#stargate humour

[inthractus]

Yeah.

[sun-ni-day]

Some new guy at SGC: who's office is this?

Walter: it's Dr. Jackson's

New guy: I don't remember him being mentioned at onboarding...

Walter: he's currently dead

New guy: then why isn't his office packed away? Also, did you just say "currently?...

Walter: coz he's gonna need it when he gets back

New guy: back... from the dead?...

Walter: I said what I said.

[stargatesg-1obsessed]

My mums at it again.. everytime there’s a slight Sam/jack moment my mum had something to say, we were watching evolution (both parts) and it was the bit where Jack went to Sam’s lab and told her he’s going to find Daniel. And my mum no word of a lie said “Just a quick kiss before you go, you know you want to.”

And then at the end of evolution part 2 when Jack asked if they missed him and blah blah blah, my mum just kept going on in a singsong voice like;

“They love each otherrr, they want to marry each other.” “And have babies” “and they want to kiss each otherr”

I swear she has no chill, she also said something about tongues but I had tuned her out by then and I’m not sure if I should be concerned about what she said or not..

But yeah she says the same damn things every time with a slightly different twist of words, or the exact same things and some things slightly more disturbing.

My mother ladies and gentleman.

[buckevantommy]

i'm watching Columbo for the first time ever

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

i love how rodney keeps calling john "kirk" when hes very clearly tom paris

[cassiope25]

Of Housewarmings and Prickles

Read it on AO3 for @doMAYstic 2023

Of Housewarmings and Prickles

"Oh my God, I thought we'd never be left alone!" Rodney steps back from the door after Katie's retreat, scowling at the cactus sitting on their entryway table. "Whose groundbreaking idea of a housewarming party was this anyway? Why is it that everyone thinks we would have time to spare for social platitudes like this? It's way beneath our—"

"Hey, hey Rodney, slow down a bit. I'm glad we're finally alone, too."

John reaches for Rodney, pulls him close, and kisses him tenderly on the lips.

"I'm certain we can put our valuable time to good use now that everyone has taken their leave," he says, smiling cheekily. "And don't hold it against me, what I said to Katie. It was too good an opportunity to tease you a little."

Rodney's features, which had been tense just a moment ago, soften and he looks up into John's loving eyes. "Um, I think you're right. We earned a bit of alone time to ourselves."

He lets himself be held tightly by John, snuggling his face into John's neck, and rubbing his cheek to John's.

"Ow!" Rodney pulls out of their embrace with a yelp, "Just for the record, it's you who are prickly like our precious cactus."

And with a crooked, lascivious smile he adds: "So, then, now would be the time to check for bulbous protrusions, wouldn't it?"

John grins mischieviously. "Whatever you say, Rodney, whatever you say!" He takes Rodney lovingly in his arms. "I give you full access!"

[logicgunn]

Hit The Deck

Written for giggles and for SGA Saturday's prompt #376-379 "note".

On AO3.

“McKay! What the hell?!”  

Rodney's surprise at John’s sudden and vengeful appearance causes him to fumble with the tablet in his hands, and if it wasn’t for John’s quick reflexes it would have fallen to the floor. John’s mouth is a tight, angry line; not Doranda angry, thank god, but pissed enough that Rodney's thank you dies on the tip of his tongue.  

John drops the tablet on the table—a little harder than Rodney's comfortable with, but under the circumstances, he figures it prudent not to complain.  

“What brings you—”  

“What are you playing at?” interrupts John, and when he crosses his arms, Rodney notices that they are smeared with dirt. As is his uniform. And his face. And his...huh, is that a leaf in his hair?  

“Yeah, McKay, it’s a leaf. In fact, it’s probably a whole goddamned tree branch.”  

Rodney peers at the foliage poking out of John’s cowlicks. “It’s very...botanical.”  

“What were you thinking?!”  

“I don’t know,” says Rodney, resisting the urge to start grooming John right here in the labs, “but no doubt it was something profound. If you narrow it down a little I’m sure I can figure it out.”  

“Cadman!” hisses John, somewhat nonsensically. “C4! Explosives? Ring a bell?”  

Ah. “Yes, of course it does.”  

“Explain.”  

“There’s not much to tell. She came to the lab a few days ago asking for help with a project. Blast yields. Chemical bonding. Shock waves. Simply put, she wanted to know if my physics know-how could improve her proclivity for hazardous chemical explosives.”  

“Oh, it improved her explosives all right,” sneers John.   

“Did it work? How much C4 did she use? How powerful was the blast?”  

"Yes, it worked. Do you want that in ounces or grams? Powerful enough to blow a five-thousand-year-old tree into splinters.”  

“What? That’s great!”  

“Mmmhmm.”   

“John, this is...well it’s not Nobel-level science, but it’s certainly worthy of an accolade or two. And, it’s something I can actually publish.”  

“How nice for you,” says John, and Rodney gets the feeling that nice isn’t the word John wants to use, but he’s having trouble connecting the dots.  

“Um. So. Your hair?” he says, hoping to redirect John’s ire.  

“Funny thing that. You remember I told you I was arranging a field exercise on the mainland with Lorne?”  

“Yes, yes, of course I do. What does that have to do with Cadman’s blast yields?”  

“And you remember I said it was going to be a live fire exercise?”  

“Oh.”  

“Oh is right.”  

“So she...”  

“Introduced us to her new and improved C4 during the exercise, yes.”  

“And it was somewhat of a trial by fire, I take it?”  

“Yup.”  

“Uh...anyone injured?”  

“Just the tree.”  

“And your hair.”  

John reaches up to run his fingers through his hair, eyes wide and face pinched and—  

“Oh, no,” says Rodney quickly, “no permanent damage.”  

But John looks sceptical, so Rodney offers to give his hair a thorough inspection.  

“I could be persuaded,” says John, recovering from his panic like a cat fumbling a landing. He’s still a little rattled, so Rodney ups the ante.  

“And, you know, since we’ll be defoliating you anyway, maybe I could take a look at any other...uh...bumps and bruises?”  

“I’m listening...”  

“Maybe also kiss them better?”  

“I do have a scrape,” says John, agreeably. “On my knee.”  

“Well, you know, since I’ll be down there...”  

John grins, for real, and punches Rodney on the bicep. “Deal.”  

Rodney’s so relieved by the change in mood, he doesn’t even think to complain about the work he’s already lost from John’s interruption, nor the afternoon he set aside for Zed-P-M research while John was supposed to be wiping the floor with Cadman’s team.  

"I take it you..." Says Rodney as they head out of the lab, but there’s no safe way to finish that sentence. Had your ass handed to you?   

“Lost,” says John. “Yes. Spectacularly.”  

“Just out of curiosity, how did you know it was me who helped her?”  

“Found a note in the explosives crate.” John pulls a scrap of paper out of his breast pocket and hands it to Rodney. “Your handwriting and hers waxing lyrical about shockwave velocity and rapid bond dissolution.”  

“Oh, this is good stuff.”  

“Yeah, well.”  

“You’re sure no one was hurt?” asks Rodney, just making sure. He really doesn't want John to get called to the infirmary mid-inspection .    

John lets Rodney into the transporter first, one hand holding the door. “No one, Rodney. Just my score.” 

[basingstokemercury]

Bashir: You shot me!

Kira: Yes, Julian, I shot you, and I said I was sorry!

Worf: You shot me, too.

Kira: I'm sorry for shooting everyone!

[enigmatic-mystery-777]

IT'S NOT FUNNY

(but it really is 🤣🤣)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Link 1, Link 2 :)

Digital Good Omens 2 Sountrack is coming out in 4 days! 🥳 CD version in October! :) ❤ Coming soon on vinyl…

Out to Stream/Download from 25th August. Out on CD 13th October. Coming soon on vinyl…

David Arnold’s ‘end of the world’ complex and multi-genre soundtrack.

From the Award-winning composer of Sherlock and Casino Royale comes a follow up to the hugely successful, Emmy nominated Good Omens soundtrack.

Good Omens series 2 premiered on Prime Video on 28th July. The series follows the odd couple, angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) and demon Crowley (David Tennant) in their quest to sabotage the end of the World. The six-episode sequel to the popular adaptation of the novel by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, concerns the Archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm) arriving without his memories to Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to find out what happened to Gabriel, whilst hiding him from Heaven and Hell, both eager to find him.

The Soundtrack

David Arnold’s soundtrack to Good Omens was first released in 2019 to favourable reviews, with BBC Music Magazine calling it “a rollicking trip to hell and back”. Blueprint Magazine described it as “a great listen” and Sci Fi Bulletin commented on “plenty of memorable themes” to conclude that “This is another work of art from Arnold”. At times nostalgic and eerie but always varied, beautiful and full of excitement, the Good Omens 2 soundtrack showcases Arnold’s every skill from his composer arsenal. Featured here are orchestral arrangements with sprinkling of Sugar Plum Fairy pizzicato and percussion, jaunty strings and mighty choral sweeps from Crouch End Festival Chorus. Added to the mix are rock guitar riffs, and psychedelic 70s sounds and all together they create a haunting otherworldly feel, complementing the fantasy and the quirky humour of the show. The spirited Waltz of the opening theme is also present in the second series and it wonderfully sets the scene for fantastical mayhem. In series 2, this robust, evocative, and funny music entity, becomes yet again another character in the story. Award-winning composer David Arnold is well known for his blockbuster scores, including Stargate, The Chronicles of Narnia: the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Hot Fuzz, Paul, Independence Day, 2 Fast 2 Furious and Casino Royale as well as for his TV work such as Sherlock and Dracula. Also available: The original soundtrack to the first series of Good Omens >

Tracklist

– Disc 1 – Chapter 1: The Arrival 1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells Chapter 2: The Clue 10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel Chapter 3: I Know Where I’m Going 19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy – Disc 2 – Chapter 4: The Hitchhiker 33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room Chapter 5: The Ball 40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle Chapter 6: Every Day 48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

[sun-ni-day]

Jack + Tumblr slang

from this brilliant ask exchange with @fighting-naturalist and @stardustandtwilight

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[raven-6-10]

@ertrunkenerwassergeist

Oh yeah, O'Neill for sure has Opinions, and not just about monarchy.

In fact, one of the things that could be explored here is the Culture Clash between the SGC and Eos.

Because on one side we have Eos - Insomnia and Galahd in particular - which I'm headcanoning as very tolerant on various issues re: gender and sexuality - Galahd a bit more than Insomnia, though it's mostly the Mors' generation and those between him and Regis there that are still very old-fashioned.

And then we have US of A. Or rather, the military thereof, from the turn of century. With all the sexism, racism, homophobia and all other isms and phobias that are there. Which, even if I like SG-1 as characters, I do acknowledge that Jack is a '50s guy and a lifelong military i.e. he has his prejudices. Same with Carter, really. Sure, she's younger but she's also a military kid through and through.

Daniel and Teal'c would have an easier time, I think. Daniel is an anthropologist, so even if he specialises in predynastic Egypt, he would be familiar with different cultural norms from different civilizations and times. While Teal'c probably dealt with different peoples on different planets and how they might differ between each other.

(Plus you know, the Goa'uld. Do you want to be the one to tell, say, Ba'al or Osiris, that they should use female pronouns just because their current host happens to be biologically female? Even tho they themselves are biologically agender snakes? Yeah, I don't either.)

***

Daniel certainly has an interesting time trying to act as a translator. Same with whoever got snatched from the original mission at that base.

Though I will be adopting the "translator nanites" thing from Stargate lore. So once there are enough Eosians around, the protocols would be updated and the next group to got through the 'gate would have some rudimentary understanding of the local language.

Enough to ask who, what and why.

But it still leaves room for misinterpretation and Misunderstandings :)

***

Regarding Sol, I currently have no idea what to do about it.

Alteran is canonically Latin with serial numbers filled off (or in-universe, Latin has evolved from post-Atlantis Alteran).

But we have nothing about Sol that's canon and I know people have a lot of headcanons about it. Starting with Latin and ending at constructing their own conlag, because why not!

I'm not Tolkien. I'm not doing my own conlag.

If I include Sol and assume Lucian and Galahdian are derivatives, I will either use phonetic symbols to write it down or I will snag a fictional language from another series for my use.

***

@cactusprisms

Regarding independent worlds - there are some but the ones seen in earlier seasons are generally pre-industrialisation. With the exception of Tollan who were in only one episode at that point and their world was literally blowing up around them when the SGC found them.

Orban and Langar, and Hebridan and others are from later seasons. So right now Eos is the most technologically advanced human civilisation they've seen. And they still haven't been to any of the cities.

This will definitely colour the interactions there.

@hamelin-born @aniseandspearmint @charlottedabookworm @starofthemourning

Prev

(I need a tag for this au)

(I'm taking suggestions)

@hamelin-born @moonraisedsunchild @ertrunkenerwassergeist @cactusprisms @aniseandspearmint @charlottedabookworm

So like. SG-1 is scouting around and they see a herd of weird animals that look like a cross between a unicorn and a gazelle of all things, except kind of weird. But also not the weirdest they have ever seen. And they try to keep their distance, really, they're not stupid enough to approach unknown animals.

Except suddenly the entire herd starts running right at them, so of course they also start running to try to get out of the way. Only it turns out the Space Unicorns are running from a bunch of predators that look like really really big cats. Like, big honkin' space cats.

And oh shit, the Cats decided that humans actually offend them on a personal level, so now the team is really hauling ass to get away. And maybe taking some potshots at the Cats, who basically just shrug it off what the hell, and also they can zap you like their grandma was an electric eel, seriously what the hell, and maybe the team is running in the wrong direction, Daniel! the base is the other way! except is kind of too late to change that.

So they make it to the shore and are running along the beach, at least it's rocky and not sandy that would have been really bad to run along. And it looks like the cats are bored of the chase because they all stopped further back and now are only growling and hissing in their direction and backing away.

. . .

. . .

. . . something is growling real loud behind them.

[wonkyelk]

20 questions game

thanks very much for tagging me @massharp1971!

How many works do you have on AO3?

323

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,223,777. Which might be slipping into writing addiction territory.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stargate Atlantis, primarily, with a couple for The Magnus Archives, because I recently fell for it headlong.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Merging Stars

A Marriage of Least Resistance

Falling Upright

Breaking Bonds

Coming to an Understanding

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, always. I love comments, they show that people are engaging with the work and I understand and appreciate the effort that it takes to make them. They deserve a thank you. Also, sometimes comments have sparked off an interesting train of ideas, which I love.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably The nightingale with fethers new depending on which angle you look at it. Or A Short Space of Fair Weather, which is pretty sad.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty impossible to tell as most of my fics end happily. But There and Back Again has positive outcomes, not just for the protagonists, but for two whole galaxies, so I’m voting that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Fortunately not, so far at least.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Occasionally. It tends to be awkward and laced with humour.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have one sort of crossover comic, which is SGA meets Lord of the Rings: Of Rings and Ill-Advised Succumbing to Curiosity

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

It seems unlikely

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but would be very happy for anyone to do so.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes, wrote a couple with @trainofcommand from just having a little fun back and forth on Discord.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

McShep.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

My WIPs tend to be either an aimless few sentences or paragraphs which trail off and lose my interest, or they get finished. I rarely have a plot in mind beforehand, so I don’t really have anything that’s itching to come out.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Humour, I think. I enjoy writing dialogue and having fun with language.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Too many to mention, but I’ll go with plotting. Unless it’s a very short and complete idea, I can’t plot until I’ve written half of something and kind of have to work out a possible direction and wriggle the words around to fit. Often this takes a few goes and lots of reversing and trying a different fork.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it works for the fic and you have reasonable confidence in the accuracy, go for it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

SGA. My Rodney McKay addiction tipped me over the edge from reader to writer and that just kept going. And going.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This one is impossible and very much depends on mood, so I’m going to cheat and list three that come to mind:

A Ragdoll, Badly Stitched: death and grief is a recurring theme in my stuff and this is one of the first which helped me successfully articulate some things about it

How Death Came for Rodney McKay (and why it won’t be doing that again): Death again, but very much in humour mode. I’m pleased with the framing structure.

The Bakery in the Woods I love Fairy tale style stories, both just in themselves and how you can use them in relation to real world issues. This one came together in a way I’m happy with.

no pressure tagging: @trainofcommand, @sga-owns-my-soul, @dedkake,@hero-in-waiting, @sparrowsarus, @spurious and anyone else who wants to do this, please do. It was a lot of fun!

[ffxvficrec]

by Kma16202 Welcome to the Crossroads Café, the only place in the multiverse where heroes, villains, and everything in between gather for a much-needed break—and a gourmet meal they didn’t know they were craving. Run by none other than Gordon Ramsay himself, this out-of-time, out-of-space restaurant is a haven (and sometimes a battlefield) for patrons ranging from Jedi Knights to wizards, superspies to hobbits. Whether they’re here to enjoy the food, debate the meaning of heroism, or begrudgingly sit through Ramsay’s no-nonsense scoldings, every visitor leaves with something more than they bargained for…if they can survive the house rules. A slice-of-life series of random encounters, surprising friendships, philosophical debates, and food critiques you never thought you needed—served up in a world where everyone could use a break. No fights. No menus off-limits. Just memorable meals, chaotic company, and a chef who won’t take anyone’s nonsense. Words: 4921, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types , Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling , Marvel Cinematic Universe , DC Extended Universe , Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997) , Final Fantasy VIII , Final Fantasy IX , Final Fantasy X , Final Fantasy XV , The Hobbit - All Media Types , The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types , どうぶつの森 | Animal Crossing Series , Half-Life (Video Games) , 9-1-1 (TV) , Grey's Anatomy , Red Dwarf (UK TV) , Alien Series , Austin Powers (Movies) , Deadpool - All Media Types , X-Men - All Media Types , Despicable Me (Movies) , Minions (2015) , Die Hard (Movies) , How to Train Your Dragon (Movies) , The Matrix (Movies) , Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies) , Shrek (Movies) , Transformers - All Media Types , Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) , BoJack Horseman , Farscape , Stargate - All Media Types , Breaking Bad , Indiana Jones Series , Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) , Ghostbusters (1984-1989; 2021) , Men in Black (Movies) , Hunger Games Series - All Media Types , Discworld - Terry Pratchett Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Ramsay Additional Tags: Fandom crossover , Interdimensional Cafe , Gordon Ramsay as Background Character , Hero & Villain Shenanigans , Slice of Life , Humourous Conversations , Unlikely Friendships , Food Critiques , Everyone needs a break , Serious Meets Ridiculous , Gordon Ramsay Deserves His Own Tag , Humour , Multiverse , AI-Generated Text , I mean it when I say this is AI generated , Don't complain about it being AI

[deadheaddaisy]

❄️🏜️🦴

Plz 😁

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

Oh lordie. Well, I have a gazillion plots and would never be able to choose just one as a favourite, so let's go with my OTP and add the ensemble. It'd be very much an action-adventure with plenty of fight scenes, a ton of angst and whump, loads of snark and sass, more than a little smut, and all the found family vibes that could be crammed in. In fact, might as well make it a series and add some crossovers.

Who would write it best? It'd have to be a collaborative effort. I can't name every single writer because I'd be sure to leave someone out, and also not everyone is still writing in this fandom; but there are writers whose takes I love on my OTP, the ensemble, and the larger cast, including my rarepair and your OCs; some who are excellent at intrigue, angst and whump; some who specialise in psychoanalysis; and a boatload of writers who do humour and sass really well. I'd write the smut and some of the action because I like to think I'm pretty good at it (well, for my OTP, at any rate).

Outside of fandom? I'll take a collab between Rachel Aaron/Bach, Becky Chambers, Shelley Laurenston, Selene Kallan, Cat Valente, Courtney Milan, and Victoria Dannan, please and thank you.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love any and all comments, but ones that give me an insight into what the reader felt or their take on *my* take - and that possibly lead to further conversations, especially about headcanons - are especially good.

And if you point out a favourite sentence (or two)? I call down the blessings of a thousand baby animals on your soul and writing.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Aside from the media in which my fics are set (Enterprise, in case anyone wasn't paying attention), I get a ton of inspiration from all sorts of media. There will always be room for Stargate, natch; Eureka, Leverage, Wynonna Earp, Aliens, Terminator 2, Firefly/Serenity, and My Name, to name but a few, have featured in my recent WIP ideas. And a bunch of epic and industrial and action music. Books by the authors named above. And I just watched the trailer for the original V from the 1980s so guess what - brain tingles!

Thanks for the ask!