fanfic

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

greenbergsays:

Okay but.

Steve needs to have a Swear Jar and every time someone says a profanity in front of him, he just holds it out. The especially bad ones cost two dollars, don’t think Steve will let you get away with that. And this goes on for months and months and when Bucky starts coming around, he notices it. And he also notices how Steve doesn’t swear in front of any of the Avengers.

And when he gets Steve alone, he’s like, “what gives, you’ve got the worst mouth out of anyone I know.”

And Steve, with a perfectly innocent expression, says, “they made assumptions, Buck. I think those assumptions should at least buy a new bike, don’t you?”

And Bucky just stares at him, awed, like, “I forgot how fucking devious you are.”

Tags:

#Avengers #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

last-snowfall:

defectivevorta:

ppl on ds9 angrily blogging about problems with the plumbing, the electricity, that one corridor that’s always full of debris because it’s the first to go whenever the station is attacked. “@staff you can move the fucking space station closer to the wormhole by somehow making it lighter but my bathroom still has a cardassian toilet”

“@staff i just want to be able to use a replicator without it destroying my ability to process language is that so much to ask”

“@staff i just found a pocket of anti-gravity in the habitat ring??? bug or feature?”

“@staff-”

“I AM WORKING ON IT” types Miles O’Brien, his communicator blowing up with notification after notification. so many notifications. Miles O’Brien thought he knew what he was getting into when he joined @staff. Miles O’Brien just wants to sleep. “I LIVE HERE TOO YOU KNOW”

Sisko assigning the account to that one Vulcan intern, who writes a program that assesses the messages, current repairs status, and fakes replying.

At first everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Six months later the program has created itself a holographic form and can be found drinking heavily with Vic.

Tags:

#Star Trek #DS9 #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #oh look an update

{{next post in sequence}}

Fic: A Wrench in the Works (Jensen, Lopez)

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

eponymous-rose:

Katie Jensen, mechanic extraordinaire, meets her counterpart on Red Team. Some things don’t need translation.

Minor spoilers for 13×02. Written for this week’s rvb60min challenge.

[AO3 | FFN | 2015 Fic | 2014 Fic]

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Lopez. Apparently I’m supposed to help you with the warped axle on this Warthog.”

Okay, no, what he actually says is more along the lines of “Hi, I’m Lopez, something something something me something something car something-that-maybe-means-pencil,” because Katie Jensen failed miserably every time she tried to learn another language and Spanish class back in high school was no exception.

“Um,” she says. She recognizes him as one of the Reds and Blues, but doesn’t know him, which means he was probably one of the people on the Fed side of the fence. She’s been so busy the past few weeks that introductions have been kinda low on the priority list. “Hi, Lopez. I’m Katie. Sorry. I don’t speak Spanish.”

He grunts, folds his arms, mutters something.

“But you understand English, huh?” She brightens. “Wait, no, hang on a sec!” It takes her a moment to shuffle out from under the Warthog and dig up her pack, but right at the bottom is the ancient little datapad, and she crows victoriously when she finds it still has a bit of charge. “Hah! Got it!”

Lopez is still watching her, arms folded.

“Translator,” she says. “If you speak real slow and clear, it’s usually pretty good.”

Lopez jolts, takes a step closer. He says something that the translator picks up; she shows him the word Seriously? as it prints across the screen.

Read More

Tags:

#Red vs Blue #rvb13 #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #fanfic

Image ~ ~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

thelethifoldwitch:

Question: Why can one not Finite Incantatem death when it has been magically caused?

Finite works on most things, does it not? Undoes a Transfiguration, undoes enchantments, charms, hexes, jinxes, at least to a point. Where Finite does not work there is a counter curse, counter jinx, counter spell in some form.

Question: Why is there no such thing for Avada Kedavra?

Because, you see, if there was, it would not truly be death. Death is not an effect, it is a state of being. To kill the soul must be torn from the body, and how can that be undone? A soul torn free must pass on, or linger as a fragmented ghost of memory, and a soul  torn free cannot return to the body.

Death, you see, is not an effect. It is a state of being. It can be held off, but when it arrives, and we each of us shuffle off this mortal coil, it is final.

— Excerpt from Revised Dark Arts: Theory of the Dark by Oscar Jefferson.

(Image Source)

Ah, wizard separatism. Dude needs to talk to some Muggles about resuscitation.

(Well, I suppose this might be set in a time before Muggles started figuring out some of the more basic death-reversals, but this is the sort of thing that even a modern-day wizard separatist might say.)

Tags:

#Harry Potter #my father was dead once #he got better

onetobeamup asked: tell me ur headcanons about the klingon food stall owner tell me right now

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

agatharights:

capriceandwhimsy:

agatharights:

His name is KOGA and he is an HONORABLE WARRIOR of the kitchen. He started his business as a competitive chef, and his family has long since worked in food procurement/services. He’s from a long and noble line of chefs and hunters, they have served emperors and traveled along war-ridden lines to deliver much-needed food!

He has five children, who live on Quo’nos and four of them are also chefs (his youngest daughter is a true warrior) and his operates his restaurant with his wife and some cousins, as well as young klingons training to be NOBLE CHEFS.

He likes getting competitive with other restaurants, and he has a fierce aggression towards a vulcan restaurant nearby. They go back and forth, but secretly will totally get take-out so that they can enjoy Klingon/Vulcan food.

“Why do you express surprise that a Klingon has chosen the path of fine cuisine? Why are you so shocked at my cultured palate?

“Warriors must eat, and a warrior who has eaten well will fight all the better for it. A true Klingon chef knows that any meal he prepares may be the last meal that a warrior may ever eat. Does not every fine warrior deserve to go into battle with a good meal in his belly? Should not a chef do his utmost to ensure that every nuance of that meal is prepared to perfection?

“My grandfather was chef to Admiral Koros. A fine warrior, the Admiral, a man who loved fine food. My grandfather was there when the Admiral died. He was there for the songs sung in the mess hall on the eve of battle against the Romulans. When the battle began, my grandfather put down apron and knife and took up his duty as damage control officer.

“Long did the battle rage. Many Klingon and Romulan ships burned in the void of space. In the end, the sons of Kahless were victorious, but at great cost to ships and men.

“My grandfather was one of the men who found the Admiral on the bridge of his ship, surrounded by his dead and dying men, half of his body burned in disruptor fire. The Admiral spoke of glory, and honor, and expressed no regret for his own death. And yet, the Admiral said, he would have liked one more taste of my grandfather’s Rokheg Blood Pie.

“My grandfather returned to his kitchen. Among the wreckage of his burned ingredients and damaged stoves, he gathered together what few supplies remained unspoiled. Using all of his skill and strength, he prepared, with his hands, one last small Rokheg Blood Pie, as the Admiral lay dying 

“The men served their admiral one last meal. They put the fork to his mouth. The Admiral tasted my grandfather’s Rokheg Blood Pie and smiled. And, without another word, the Admiral went to Sto’Vo’Kor.

“This story is memorable, not not unusual. Countless such stories have been written down in my family history. I come from over two dozen generations of chefs who have served great warriors, and all of us have given their all to provide the best meals possible to these men, always knowing it may be their last.

“SO I WILL KNOW IF YOU EVER ATTEMPT TO PASS OFF CARDASSIAN LILY STAMENS AS GENUINE Q’ONOS SAFFRON AGAIN, AND IF YOU EVER ATTEMPT SUCH TREACHERY, I SHALL GUT YOU WITH MY CHEF’S KNIFE AND USE YOUR INTESTINES AS SAUSAGE CASINGS!”

i like you

Tags:

#Star Trek #DS9 #death tw #headcanon accepted

Image ~ ~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

{{previous post in sequence}}

hchlns:

 

universallyemma:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?
Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.
Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.

Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.

Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).

Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.

Read More

Tags:

#Harry Potter #fanfic #oh look an update #I don’t remember whether I reblogged the earlier version of this or not #but anyway here’s a version with a fic attached

akisawana asked: Tucker wished, suddenly and desperately, for his father.

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

eponymous-rose:

See, the thing about Wash was that the guy would probably live out the rest of his days eating nothing but military-issue ration bars. Given the chance, he’d stoically chew his way to the eventual heat-death of the universe. And Caboose might have a sweet tooth big enough to bore down to the center of the planet, but put him anywhere near an oven and just, you know. Fire. Death. Explosions. Screaming. All that good stuff.

So basically what this all boiled down to was that Tucker was currently the only person in Blue Base who, as the son of a moderately famous pastry chef, had the first idea how to bake a cake.

“Listen up, fuckers,” he said. Caboose blinked at him. The rest of the room echoed emptily  “Fucker,“ he amended. “I’m sick of what passes for food around here, so I am gonna bake a cake, I am gonna do it once, it is gonna be fucking incredible, and we are never gonna speak of it again.”

Caboose’s voice rose to a deafening stage-whisper. “Is it Agent Wash’s birthday?”

“Sure,” Tucker said. “That works. Fuck it. Happy birthday, Agent Asshole. And what I need from you, Caboose, is—”

“To be as far away from the kitchen as humanly possible,” Caboose intoned.

“Farther,” said Tucker, checking one of the base’s cupboards for something he could use as a substitute for eggs. “Why are all the cupboards full of beef jerky?”

He glanced up. The kitchen counter was, impossibly, on a whole lot of fire. “Tucker did it,” Caboose said.

Tucker sighed and rested his forehead against the cheap plastic of the wall, trying to drag back childhood memories of a warm kitchen and raised, laughing voices. The smell of fresh dough. The smell of burning sugar. He wondered, vaguely, whether the Sangheili had pasty chefs.

Then he sighed and reached out for the extinguisher, which was, of course, already on fire.

Tags:

#Red vs Blue #fanfic #food #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

catolynwrites:

onemuseleft:

I want to write a fic where Lilo goes to college and her roommate is Boo from Monsters Inc. Boo is the first person to think Stitch is adorable and cuddly, and Lilo is the first person not to act like “Mike Wazowski” was a weird name for a goldfish. They get on like a house on fire which is kind of bad for Nani’s blood pressure.

But then one night they wake up in the middle of the night because something is in their closet. And the door starts to creak open so Stitch tackles whoever (whatever) is in there. They fall back into the closet, the door slams shut… and when Lilo runs over and opens it there’s nothing but an empty closet.

Then Boo tells Lilo all about this weird thing that happened to her when she was a kid, and how no one ever believed her but she knows it was real. 

And cue Lilo and Boo busting into the Monster world to rescue Stitch and wreaking mad havoc in the process.

Oh my god. I need this like I need coffee in the morning. 

Tags:

#Lilo and Stitch #Monsters Inc #crossovers #story ideas I will never write

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

laurelhach:

El-Aurian Redesign

Originally from the Beta Quadrant, El-Aurians are a borderline humanoid race. They are eight limbed, with two main walking limbs, and they often use at least two other limbs during locomotion, though it’s not always necessary. They are extremely long-lived, often upwards of two thousand years.

El-Aurians have groups of cerata on their necks and their tail. Each ceras contains a central tube connected to three small highly vascularized lung-structures. A small pouch at the base expands to lower pressure inside the ceras and draw in air. Relatively simple organs, cerata regenerate easily when damaged. The constant inhalation/exhalation from the cerata causes them to wave gently. Non El-Aurians often find this effect calming, but others may think it unnerving.

El-Aurian listening skills are a racial personality trait, not biological, and their hearing is not exceptional among known races. Even before their homeworld’s assimilation, they were a widely-travelled species, and their cultural value of knowledge and history contributes to their listening skills. They have fantastic memories, and easily assume historian roles. Their arms contain partially separate nervous systems and do not require the concentration of the main brain to operate—this leaves the main brain freer for other functions, including the storage of memories (because El-Aurians have a lot). It also makes El-Aurians great multi-taskers. 

Their fan functions similarly to the antennae-plate on the Trill, though it is not a hearing organ—that is located dorsally to the fan. The fan has receptors for a broad range of particles, including chronitons, making El-Aurians a rare time-sensitive race. Their biological ability to detect spacial and temporal anomalies is unparalleled in known species.  As they have a limited skeleton and much of their body is supported by hydrostatics, they are also sensitive to pressure changes (and they like less gravity than Fed Standard—Guinan keeps Ten Forward a little light, it’s fun)

El-Aurians have at least two distinct phenotypes—-given their rarity, we don’t know whether or not there are more.

(yay for the chickensquids)

Tags:

#Star Trek #…huh #interesting