#jim has his priorities straight

[guy-in-a-scarf]

Screenshot redraw? reimagining?

#star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #james t kirk #jim kirk #screenshot redraw but i make it even more bi #out of context screenshots my beloved #jim has his priorities straight

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

dad on a saturday

annie's dad dropped by as he often did on saturday morning. robbie was out -- he'd been out with jim last night and they'd gone back to julia's parents' house in the suburbs to double-team her. annie answered the door in a bra and panties -- she'd been to another fundraiser with richard last night, and they'd fucked in his limo on the way back. annie had bounced on richard's cock with her panties pulled aside in full view of the driver. it had been really hot. she could still feel richard's dried cum in her bush.

he asked where robbie was, and so annie pulled up a picture jim had sent of his cock in julia's ass and robbie's cock in julia's mouth.

"it doesn't bother you to see pictures of your brother like that?" he asked.

"of course not, he has a nice cock," annie said. "apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"sorry about that," he said. "a little too much scotch."

"don't apologize for that," annie said. "i really appreciate the intimacy."

"i know you value that," he said. "but maybe a little too much."

"nah, i have my priorities straight," she said. "did mom get you off this morning?"

"yes," he said. "gave me a blowjob."

"good girl," annie said. "come talk to me while i shower, i have to get the cum out of my bush."

annie left the shower curtain open so she could chat with her father and stand fully naked in front of him. she literally put shampoo in her bush, which was kind of funny, but it worked.

when she got out, and as she was toweling off, she was surprised that he reached out to touch her pubic hair. "nice and soft now," he said approvingly. "sorry for touching," he said.

"you can touch me anywhere you want," annie said, not even in a flirty way, just a frank admission of the truth.

"you're a little hairier than you mom at this point," he said. "she's practically shaved."

"i really like having a bush right now," annie said. "i like it as a cum target."

he laughed. "yeah, that's always fun."

"where is your favorite place to cum on mom?" annie asked.

"her tits," he said.

"i'd like to see that," she said.

"your mother films us all the time," he said. "i'm sure she has some video."

"i can't ask her for that," annie said. they were in her bedroom now. she had pulled on white panties. her bush was still wet and left a damp triangle in the front.

"i think you two could bond over being so horny all the time lately," he laughed.

"i've always been horny all the time," annie said. "i didn't always think to act on it."

"what helped you learn that you could?"

"my mentor, at school," she said. "dr. lawrence, remember him?"

"sure," her dad said.

"well, he sort of told me i wasn't sexually adventurous enough to handle what some of my patients were gonna throw at me because i was a pretty woman and so i'd attract people who wanted to talk about sex."

"i suppose you were not very sexually adventurous in college."

"no, i'd been with like three guys. so i started fooling around with julia and a bunch of my other friends, and i fucked dr. lawrence, and i turned it around."

"you fucked dr. lawrence, your mentor?"

"yeah," annie said. "it was very cathartic."

he laughed.

after her dad left, robbie came home mid-morning. annie was horny, so he ate her pussy with her panties pulled aside on the couch, and then told her he had a story.

it was 2am at julia's house and he'd gone to the bathroom, naked, after falling asleep in bed with julia and jim. julia's stepmom had walked in on him pissing, and apologized, but just stood there in a tank top and panties. so he'd just looked at her with his cock out and said, "you gonna take those off for me or what?" and she pulled her panties down and said "i thought you'd never ask." he said she was shaved, and he fucked her bent over the sink and she asked him how her pussy compared to her stepdaughter's.

"that's fucking hot," annie said.

"i know right?"

"what did you tell her?"

"i told her to shut up and she started to cum."

"good boy," annie said.

he told her he went back to the bedroom and told julia he'd just fucked her stepmom and julia went down on his flaccid cock so she could taste her mother's pussy.

later that day, julia sent annie a screenshot from one of her brothers' snapchat accounts. it was a picture, shot through an ajar door, of julia getting spitroasted in bed by jim and robbie, and it was captioned "tfw your slut older sister moves back home."

"LOL," annie replied.

"It's not funny!" Julia replied.

"You're right it's not funny, it's hot."

"It's a LITTLE hot," Julia admitted.

annie asked jim what the dynamic was like at julia's parents' house. he said julia and her stepmom are both always walking around in their underwear. he told her he asked the brothers if they ever spy on their mom and they showed him footage of a secret camera they'd set up in the bathroom, video of her getting naked and getting in the shower.

[hugheses]

Have you ever read anything about why Jack decided not to go to college? I know he was projected to go first for a while and his goal was to make the team right away, but Quinn and Luke committed to Michigan at like 14. So when jack was 14 too it was kind of a long ways off from him knowing he’d go first overall. I wonder what his parents thought since their dad has said multiple times that their kids all playing college hockey was their dream

this is a kind of long answer so buckle up. first of all, as kids, jack was very different from luke and quinn. obviously all 3 are elite players now, but both jim and ellen have said that jack’s trajectory differed from a young age. so while quinn went 8th round in the ohl draft, the plan for him was always college and it wasnt until he was at the program that he started to be seen as a top player. but jack as a player was so elite so young that people were talking about him going first overall before he was in high school. he applied for exceptional status for the ohl so he could play as an underager but was denied (bc he was so physically immature and would have been playing against men) but had he played in the ohl, he would have not been eligible for the ncaa. so for a while that was the reason. and then he went to the program and after his first year a lot of michigan fans had hoped that he would graduate HS early to go play with quinn at umich, but he said that he wanted to stay where he was for his development. and at this point he's been the presumptive first overall pick for years, it wasn't until the year of the draft that kakko was seen as a serious challenger. most first overalls go into the nhl their draft year, with some exceptions like owen power obviously, but for the most part, 1st overalls who play in college either have earlier birthdays than jack (so would age out of the ntdp etc before their draft year like auston matthews) or graduate early on purpose to play in college. quinn's birthday actually falls in the weird category of spending 2 years at the ntdp and still needing to graduate early to go straight to college. to sum things up, college hockey was yes the dream for quinn and luke, but jack was always different and their parents have said as much. they wont explicitly say it, but they knew jack was going into the nhl long before 14. and i don't know how close it actually got to happening, but in summer 2018 jack was (allegedly) stopped by the admissions department from going to umich where sometimes they will fudge stuff for elite athletes. but i kind of doubt he would have gone anyway, because he loved the program and it was hockeyhockeyhockey 24/7 in a way college just isn't, and he lived close enough that he saw quinn all the time.

from earlier that year,

And Quinn said he'd be happy if Jack played for the Wolverines next season. “Playing with my brother would be a dream come true,” Quinn said. “He’s gotta make his own decision.”

and

Jack and the Hughes family has options. Along with U-M, the Mississauga Steelheads drafted him with the eighth overall pick in the 2017 Ontario Hockey League Priority Selection. Or he could stay at NTDP for the second year. “It could be a perfect scenario,” Jim said of Jack going to U-M. “But they’re not there yet. The beauty is Jack is in a really great spot right now. He values the development he’s getting with Seth and Wrobo.” Quinn said he and his brother haven’t talked about next year's possibilities yet. They’re focused on what they still can accomplish this season, on their respective teams.

and then here's an article on him choosing to stay at the ntdp that year. so the reasons he didnt commit young were mostly that he didnt know if he even could go to college, and then he almost did go as a 17 year old but ultimately did not. every school in the country would have tripped over themselves to try to nab him, but it was assumed by umich and everyone else that if he went to college, it would be there. but pretty much everyone at the time expected him to make the jump to the nhl immediately in 2019, including himself, he was very vocal about wanting to do so.

#this is long and rambly i hope it makes enough sense and answers your question #i should have a tag for these things #answered

[prapaiwife]

No matter how old u are u can never stop learning uncle Jim at this age where u would think he has his life figured out he's still unsure of a lot in his life and is learning from his 18 year old nephew who seems to have some of his priorities straight and he's proud and even envious of him when he talks to wen later that he seems to be this carefree and sure of who he is and that's inspiring to him he's still getting there in all due time.

#moonlight chicken #earth pirapat #earthmix #mix sahaphap

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

I have a theory on why WFA comic is so well written and has so much care put behind it and canonical mainline comics are… like that.

Basically I think mainline comics are full of cutthroat, nepotistic, misogynistic white manbabies who have been there since the 70s and refuse to leave. They only hire their enabler friends who, it turns out, are also incredibly shitty, misogynistic people/writers and who either kiss their ass or share their opinions on things upfront. Since people’s position in mainline comic writing is pretty much guaranteed due to the whole my-best-friend-hired-me sort of thing, they don’t feel the need to reread things or do even the most bare minimum research and instead just write fan fiction of whatever they want the characters to do/be. So TLDR mainline comics is just full of a bunch of inflated egos and narcissistic writers.

HOWEVER I think the reason WFA has escaped this curse is because the most toxic of DC personalities simply didn’t think it mattered that much and so it escaped their radar/endless editorial meddling or what have you.

Idk this was just some random thoughts I had lol. Sorry to bother!

Funnily enough the two people in charge of DC right now are not white men. Jim Lee is a Korean American and Marie Javins is obviously a woman. Dan Didio the previous co-editor in chief, someone I made more than one negative post about was and destroyed so many things during his tenure in charge. Barbara Gordon definitely being a character ruined by his decisions. Making her Batgirl again in new 52 was a terrible decision not just for her but for other characters around her. Since he not only completely and utterly disrespected her disability by making her Batgirl again, he erased the two characters who should be Batgirl from existence to because he had extreme hatred for them for some reason.

Now the fact that he's gone and she's still being written like this is a huge problem. DC writers seem to have this weird nostalgia for the way things used to be that they can't let go of. They also make her act and seem like way younger than she should be. Same with a lot of their female characters. But yes Tom Taylor should be blamed for her state currently too since he's writing Nightwing and ignores all fan complaints, and blames it all on DickKory shippers of all things. Still can't believe he blamed fans complaining about racism, and ableism on "angry Dickkory fans who were targeting him"

I think DC as a company needs to get their priorities straight. It's like they start to push Barbara to the front of Batgirls since the book isn't selling. When the book sold well at first and then fell down in sales once people saw how bad Stephanie and Cass were being written. Pushing an ableist verion of Barbara to the front instead of listening to fans and trying to write the characters properly to boost sales is just like a lot of the shit they've been doing lately. Especially since Barbara can very easily co-exist with the two of them and not be a detriment to their character, all of post crisis era comics showed us this. Yet DC keeps writing her in a way that's disrespectful not to just her but to Stephanie and Cassandra as well.

Also did you know DC doesn't have character bibles right now? And that the archivist never had any previous library experience before being put in charge of this. I think that's a huge part of why characters are being written so horribly OOC right now. I also know people usually hate executive meddling but I think the Editors need to do their jobs properly. They need to be more of top of writers, and fix mistakes in the comics. It's just every recent interview I hear it's pretty much, yeah they said I could do what I wanted essentially. Which no sometimes writers should very much not be able to do what they want.

Also yes DC definitely needs to hire more female writers. The comic industry is dominated by male writers and it so clearly shows. I can think of maybe 5 ongoing series that have a female writer right now. But with the Webtoon it actually has nothing to do with who DC as a company hires. Since the Webtoon is a licensed property, and the company hired their own creators to work on it. Think of like the equivalent of some shoe company licensing Batman and making Batman slippers, who can then make the slippers look how they want and will use their own facilities to do so, not like DC movies which are all connected through the same parent companies. Which is entirely my point in the first place people who don't even work for DC are doing a better job with her currently than the people who actually do.

#long post

[news4usonline]

Jim Harbaugh is new Chargers coach

The Los Angeles Chargers needed desperately to make a game-changing move in the franchise’s first offseason since firing Brandon Staley late in the 2023 season. The Chargers took that step of going bold with the hiring of Jim Harbaugh, who used to play quarterback for the team.  “Jim Harbaugh is football personified, and I can think of no one better to lead the Chargers forward,” said team owner and Chairman of the Board Dean Spanos. “The son of a coach, brother of a coach and father of a coach who himself was coached by names like Schembechler and Ditka, for the past two decades Jim has led hundreds of men to success everywhere he’s been — as their coach. And today, Jim Harbaugh returns to the Chargers, this time as our coach. Who has it better than us?”

Jim Harbaugh led Michigan to a 15-0 record and a College Football Playoff National Championship. Harbaugh led the Wolverines to a victory in the 2024 Rose Bowl Game against Alabama. Photo credit: Dennis J. Freeman/News4usonline.com The hiring of Harbaugh removes the stench of the Chargers being afraid to go big and go after a well-known name in the coaching world. It also marks a significant progressive step towards the team to stay relevant even in their backyard with the Los Angeles Rams and USC Trojans owning the lion’s share of football fans and adoration.   That very well could change dramatically with Harbaugh coming back home to Southern California. Things haven’t gone too well in the Chargers head coaching carousel. The last three head coaches under former general manager Tom Telesco flamed out.  With a boatload of talent around them, Mike McCoy, Anthony Lynn, and Staley, just weren’t able to elevate the Chargers to NFL elite status. Instead, mediocrity set in over the last decade. That’s about to change with Harbaugh, who played for the Chargers during the 1999 and 2000 seasons.  “The only job you start at the top is digging a hole, so we know we’ve got to earn our way. Be better today than yesterday,” Harbaugh said. “Be better tomorrow than today. My priorities are faith, family and football, and we are going to attack each with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind. This organization is putting in the work — investing capital, building infrastructure and doing everything within its power to win. Great effort equals great results, and we’re just getting started.” Harbaugh is fresh off of leading the Michigan Wolverines to the national championship. During his tenure at Michigan, Harbaugh guided the Wolverines to three Big Ten titles and three straight College Football Playoff appearances. Before he became a successful coach within the college ranks, Harbaugh was already carving out his legacy at the NFL level. As head coach of the San Francisco 49ers, Harbaugh took his team to the Super Bowl (Super Bowl XLVII) and made three trips to the NFC Championship Game. In his previous stint as an NFL head coach, Harbaugh’s record was 49-22-1. 

Jim Harbaugh posted a 49-22-1 record as a head coach in the NFL before he went into the college ranks to coach at the University of Michigan. Photo credit: Dennis J. Freeman/News4usonline.com “You don’t build a resume like Jim’s by accident, and you don’t do it by yourself,” said President of Football Operations John Spanos. “You need a team. And nobody has built a team more successfully, and repeatedly, in recent history than Jim Harbaugh. His former players swear by him, and his opponents swear at him. Jim is one of one, and we couldn’t be more excited to have him back in the Chargers organization as our head coach.”    Harbaugh basked in the nostalgia of coming back to a franchise he once played for. The memories are good ones. This time around, Harbaugh will be running the show instead of being a participant.  “When I played for the Chargers, the Spanos family could not have been more gracious or more welcoming. Being back here feels like home, and it’s great to see that those things haven’t changed,” Harbaugh said.   Harbaugh is the brother of Baltimore Ravens head coach John Harbaugh.    Read the full article

#Chargers #headcoach #JimHarbaugh #Michigan #NFL

[alheria]

Fresh wind on a hot day (5/9)

For the first time in his life, Buck didn't feel like going to work.

After suffering those mild injuries, he was forcefully awarded two days of medical leave in addition to scheduled two days off. He spent all of them at home, lazily plastered to the couch with a remote in hand, while being absolutely spoiled by Jim whenever the older man wasn't at work. Which included eating nice takeaway since his right hand was wounded and Street could not cook for his dear life, laughing at silly reality TV shows Chris has recommended and having lots of hot sex because their relationship was still fairly new, therefore they were constantly horny for each-other.

It felt a little weird receiving care instead of solely providing it, as he should by nature, but Buck quickly realised there is no need to hide his true, needy self around his unbothered boyfriend who apparently immensely loved being "in charge". He has never met an Omega like that before: independent, strong, dominant. Every time they went somewhere public, Jim made sure everyone around unmistakably knew the handsome Alpha is already taken. Usually, their arms were hooked together as they walked, in bars Street's hand possessively lied on the firefighter's back, in stores, the officer liked to hold onto his partner’s clothes to prevent him from wandering off whenever he got sidetracked by something random that piqued his interest. This whole authoritative attitude was actually very appealing to Buck, who kept getting an instant hard-on whenever the officer effortlessly picked him up to either sit him on the counter for better blowjob access or to carry upstairs, throw him on the bed and then fuck senseless.

And yet, this tough on the outside man would still happily let his partner shower him with adoration and soft touches, wear his Alpha's scented clothes, demand full attention and seek comfort after a particularly hard day at work. Allow himself a moment of vulnerability.

Like right now, when he was comfortably, safely tucked between the firefighter's muscular arms, peacefully sleeping on the steadily rising, naked chest.

Buck couldn't stress enough how much it meant to him to finally have an opportunity to share with someone all those bottled up, tender feelings and receive exactly the same treatment in return, without going out of his way to make the other person happy. In all the previous, failed, relationships the Alpha hopelessly went the extra mile to keep the object of his adoration around, but this time? Last week, Street randomly brought him some beautiful orange flowers, nonchalantly said he saw them briefly in the flower shop before a raid and they instantly made him think of the bright, cheerful firefighter, thus he had to get them. It was a simple, completely spontaneous gesture, however melted his big heart on the spot because he always craved being thought about in such a considerate way.

Looking at his oblivious, visibly cosy in the loose embrace boyfriend, Buck couldn't believe this is real, that he now has a reliable partner who is there to stay longer. Possibly forever. He could already see himself spending his whole life alongside Jim, learning every detail about each-other, growing old together, having kids. Their current, shared priority was obviously career, although they both yearned for a happy, relatively normal family they never had once the timing is right.

Brushing through the soft, short strands, the Alpha wondered what would've happened if the unlucky SWAT officer didn't fall through the ceiling on that memorable day. If they never met.

He would most likely be still waiting for Eddie, hoping someday he says “I’m ready”, and they can properly express their deep, overwhelming love. Because they were in love, no doubt there, it was clear to everyone around that these two way-too-close firefighters at some point became more than just friends. Except they didn’t. One wanted more, the other couldn’t move on. The straight path suddenly split, and they went different ways. Away from their destiny. Maybe Eddie being stuck in the past was a sign whatever they had was not it. Perhaps they actually weren’t meant to be.

Buck sighed loudly to disperse those depressing thoughts. He was already stressed enough about the unavoidable confrontation with Hen and the rest of the team. Including Eddie. To calm down a bit, he buried his nose into the ruffled hair, inhaled that utterly relaxing scent resonating from the peaceful Omega.

-Baby, I'm sorry, but I need you to let go. -Buck whispered, pressing soft kisses to the top of his boyfriend's pleasantly smelling head. The vigilant cop instantly reacted, being a naturally light sleeper, shifted himself slightly to show he’s somewhat awake but didn't open his eyes to avoid waking up fully.

-Why?! -he whined, annoyed by the idea of having to move from his favourite spot.

-Work, Jim. You know, that place you go to when you are an adult and need to pay bills. -responded quietly the firefighter with a wide, fond smile. As it turned out after quite a few shared “sleepovers”, because they weren’t ready to move in together just yet, morning Street was not a happy Street, rather grumpy and particularly irritable.

-Stupid bullshit. -the Omega groaned, but obediently rolled aside. -Go. -he huffed before pressing the exhausted face into his abandoned, nicely cold pillow and adding in a muffled voice: -Don't die please, thank you.

-I'll try my best. -the Alpha chuckled as he carefully got up, trying not to disturb the cop any further, considering it was his first day off after six days straight, therefore deserved to sleep as much as he wanted.

One more time the firefighter looked at his probably already back asleep boyfriend. There was a particularly prominent bite on the bruised neck, right where the inactive now bonding gland is placed, and it kind of made him wonder…does he even deserve to put that anticipated, permanent mark on this seemingly perfect man? Does he really deserve Jim? 

---

All the way to the station, Buck could feel growing anxiety flood his tense body. He was not ready to talk with his team about Street, thus being put in such a choiceless situation was just awful. 

The firefighter parked in his usual spot, but didn't leave the car right away, needing a few minutes to mentally prepare for a confrontation. As he got out of the vehicle, a thought crossed his mind that maybe he should just run away and never come back. But aware bills won’t pay themselves, he took a deep breath, and bravely walked inside.

There was luckily no one from his shift in sight, so per usual, he went to get changed before doing anything else, in the meantime kind of praying for a complicated call to delay the inevitable. Once ready to roll, he climbed the stairs and found himself in a real life trap.

The whole crew was gathered around the kitchen island, evidently waiting for his arrival because the second he approached, every single one of them looked at him in the “spill the tea” kind of way.

Dammit.

-Alright. Let's do it. -Buck clapped his hands in a sudden influx of readiness to deal with the obvious elephant in the room. -Y'all most likely remember that day we almost died laughing in the truck after seeing a SWAT officer in full gear dangle from a hole in the ceiling. His name is Jim Street, and he happens to be my new boyfriend. We’ve been dating for two months now. -he outlined vaguely, knowing well-enough to fully satisfy the gossip thirsty sharks, one must give them a chance to ask whatever they wanna know. -Questions?

-How did that happen? -Hen started the interrogation. The curiosity has been eating her alive ever since she caught the familiar looking cop and Buck casually holding hands in the hospital after his accident, thus she couldn’t wait to get some clear answers. -Like I don't remember you two talking unsupervised at any point, unless you asked him out while cutting him off, which is a little too much even for you. Although not unheard of.

-Ha ha, very funny. -Buck rolled his eyes. There was no need to refer to his rather shameful phase when he tried to flirt with anyone remotely his type at any given opportunity. -My neighbour forgot to give me his spare key, so I could take care of his pet rabbit while he’s out of town for a conference. I dropped by the bar he owns to pick it up and that’s where I bumped into Jim again, on the very same day we met. And we clicked. From there it just…moved further. We went on a date, decided to try being in a relationship, and we’ve been together ever since.

-I thought you weren’t into fellow male Alphas. -pointed out Chim.

-That's not a question. -sighed the interviewed firefighter. -And Street is not an Alpha.

-Seriously? I had an impression that everyone in that crew was an Alpha. -Chimney frowned. His jaw fell all the way down to the ground upon learning only three members of 20-David were, in fact, of that specific sex.

-Why didn't you tell us before? -wondered Hen, a trace of disappointment lingering in her voice. And Buck couldn’t blame her, they were a team, there should be no secrets between them.

-We weren't really sure if we would work, so I didn't want to say anything in case we broke up soon after. -he clarified somewhat honestly. It wasn’t a lie by any means, but also not the full truth. Deep down, he simply didn’t have the courage to tell Eddie whatever they could have was over. That he doesn’t want him anymore.

-Does he make you happy? -asked Bobby, who without saying understood the reason behind Buck being so secretive about his boyfriend. This noisy bunch could truly be a pain in the ass sometimes, minding everyone’s business but their own.

Does Jim make him happy?

Street was notoriously the big spoon, he religiously wore only the scent marked hoodies whenever he went somewhere alone, from time to time would bring some random, incredibly thoughtful gift and not once complained about those never ending monologues on niche subjects Buck loved to perform on a pretty much daily basis. All that, plus many other things that no one has ever done for him. 

-Yes, he does. Definitely does.

-When do we get to meet him then? -Ravi wished to know.

-Dunno, next "family function"? -Buck grinned. -If I survive meeting his team this Saturday, that is. They are apparently not all thrilled that some firefighter started dating their Omega without prior permiss…

-He’s an Omega?! -exclaimed simultaneously the particularly noisy trio.

-Yeah, he is. -the blonde firefighter shrugged nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just get rudely interrupted mid-sentence.

-No way! -Chim shouted in utter surprise. -I thought our Ravi was a freak of nature with his height, but that guy? And he's SWAT? The fuck?!

-Crazy, I know. Was surprised myself when I realised. -Buck chuckled, remembering how shocked he was when he kissed Street for the first time and noticed that the intimidating man was neither an Alpha nor a Beta. -Can we please drop the subject? It's pretty new, there is not much to say.

For now, they agreed before engaging in a heated exchange about their teammate’s love life intertwined with Chim being scolded for casually calling their precious probie a “freak of nature”. The only person who was not involved in any part of both conversations was Eddie, who quietly listened from a safe distance, and once the questioning was over, silently left the kitchen. Buck instantly followed him downstairs to the locker room, aware that under the seemingly calm expression, intense emotions were surely raging.

He wasn’t wrong.

-I can understand not informing the rest of the team, but why didn’t you tell me?! -Eddie barked once they were alone. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t happy that the most important person in his life after his son, who he happened to have feelings for, not only started dating some stranger but also didn’t mention a word about it. -I thought we…we were working out stuff. -he whispered, voice now calmer, pained.

-Eddie…not changing a thing is not “working out stuff”. -Buck sighed heavily. Ever since he confessed, and his partner concurred, they were at a full standstill, kept acting like they were nothing more than close friends. There was zero progress. -I understood when you said you're not ready, even though I was. So I respectfully waited, and waited, and waited. Because I thought if in the end I get to be with you, then all that suffocating patience is worth the end prize. I was wrong. Do you remember when a few months ago I suggested going on a date, and you still weren't ready to move any further? It broke my heart, Eddie, 'cause how long can one wait? I couldn't stand it anymore, not being able to express my overflowing feelings, so I decided it's time to let go, and give them to someone else. Someone who wants them. -he explained. But wished he didn’t have to.

-...Buck. Is that why you started seeing that cop? To push me into changing my mind? -Eddie asked quietly, visibly devastated by what his best friend had just said. He was clearly unaware until now how much he was hurting Buck all this time by avoiding dealing with his own, fixable issues.

-No! Of course not! I'd never do such a selfish thing. -the other firefighter shook his head at the quite rude implication. -Jim…he makes me feel special, cares about me in a way no one has ever cared, and I think I want to start a family with him. It might be my Alpha nature speaking, but after spending that one night together, I immediately wanted to keep him. And I wouldn't be able to if you interfered, told me you changed your mind when I was still susceptible. That's why I kept the relationship a secret. -he revealed, even though those words barely managed to escape past the clenched throat. It was hard to admit he sacrificed his chance with Eddie over an Omega he barely knew, although that was the harsh truth, thus had to be said. -Eddie…I really hope you can find someone who'll give you the world once you're ready. We, however, can only stay friends, work colleagues, if friendship doesn't work for you. I'm sorry it has to end this way. -Buck concluded, his heart horribly heavy at the realisation everything they built over years was now most likely ruined.

Eddie didn't say a word. There was no need. He only nodded in acknowledgement, and left the room.

---

It was the worst shift in Buck’s life, worse even than the one when his leg got smashed by a firetruck, and it was not an exaggeration.

The overpowering cloud of unhealthy tension between him and Eddie could not only be cut with a knife, it seemed to affect everyone in the team since no one dared to mention anything about the most exciting discovery of the year so far. For the entire twelve hours they indulged in avoidance, small talk and picked up mostly work related subjects, which was not easy considering they got barely three simple calls the whole day. So once this nightmare was over, Buck literally rushed home, wanting to see his boyfriend and forget the awkward situation for at least a short while.

The man in question was upstairs, lying on a bed with phone in hands, busy texting someone from the looks of it, most likely Chris since those two officers were somewhat inseparable, in constant contact even when apart. He obviously was aware of his partner’s arrival but did not take his eyes off the device until the Alpha shamelessly climbed over him and took it away because he needed his uninterrupted attention for something quite important.

-Jim...I need you to fuck me. -he said very seriously, and Street’s pupils instantly went wide.

-Rough day? -the officer asked, his arms already reaching up to wrap themselves around the muscular back as a mischievous smile rose on the pleasantly surprised face.

-Rough day. -confirmed the firefighter before leaning down right into a heated kiss. He absolutely loved that Jim was able to read him like an open book, but also knew when not to ask follow-up questions.

His mind instantly turned foggy when the Omega locked them in a tight embrace, held their warming-up bodies closely while they explored each-other’s mouth. Street’s hands quickly slid under the thin material, and began to caress the tense spine. This specific gesture never failed to relax Buck, he eagerly leaned into the touch, feeling all the stress magically disappear. When the cop’s greedy fingers moved towards the belt, his hips instinctively raised to give Jim some space to free the growing erection. But instead of removing those already unzipped pants, the older man started rubbing the semi-hardened shaft with the back of his palm through the underwear, driving the firefighter absolutely crazy.

-Stop teasing me! -Buck whined as he pulled away from his boyfriend's swollen lips. A loud moan escaped him at the sudden increase in pressure on the strained penis. -Asshole! -he huffed, seeing how proud of himself Street was, a grin wide on his flushed face. The Omega only snorted in response, once more tightly wrapped himself around the taller man and swiftly rolled them over, so he could sit on his hips. From that position, Buck could now see the prominent hardness obvious in the stretched sweatpants, and damn, what a delicious sight it was.

-So impatient. -Jim chuckled, noticing the unsubtle writhing in search of any friction. He then took off his shirt in one smooth move, revealing all those chiselled muscles that always made the firefighter insanely horny. The Alpha's shirt followed shortly after, but the bottom layers stayed on, which was slightly annoying, although he was aware, in their relationship, patience never fails to be rewarded. As predicted, Street finally freed the aroused cock, pushed himself backwards to get better access and licked the sensitive flesh, causing the younger man to violently shiver at the ecstatic wave rapidly flowing through him. The tip promptly disappeared between the soft lips, paralysing the Alpha's ability to think for what seemed like hours, however was barely a few seconds before the cop stopped sucking the sensitive flesh.

-Turn around. -he demanded, and Buck obediently fulfilled the order, pressed his face into the pillow and waited for his partner to make him feel divine. Soon enough, the horribly problematic pants landed on the floor, followed by the underwear, and a juicy slap to one of the cheeks that caused them both to laugh. Jim then reached over the burning body to the nightstand to quickly grab some necessary supplies, placed a rushed kiss on the fragrant nape on the way back. It felt amazing, being taken care of while he simply lied there and enjoyed himself, because for the very first time he didn't have to prove anything to anyone.

When Street popped open a bottle, spread the stinging butt apart and began preparing the eager hole, all Buck could think about were those strong fingers skillfully working him open. His mind started to spin, muscles melted into the mattress, muffled moans filled the room as the Omega showered his spine with kisses while getting set to enter the needy insides.

-More. -he whimpered, more than ready for Jim's pleasantly big dick. They usually adhered to transitional "bed roles" although the firefighter could not stress enough how good it felt to be on the receiving side from time to time, especially with his current boyfriend who was exceptionally gifted.

-More, huh? -the officer hummed quietly, lining himself up and putting delicate pressure on the stretched entrance. He then confidently pushed forward, easily slid all the way in, completely overwhelming Buck's senses when the hard shaft grazed his prostate. -Fuck, babe, this slutty ass of yours is driving me absolutely fucking crazy. -Jim groaned, withdrawing a little before thrusting back in, slowly picking up a steady rhythm that soon turned quite brutal. The cop’s hand reached under his partner, pulled the hips high up to get a better angle, the other palm firmly pressed onto the arching spine. It was a rather painful position, but that’s exactly what the firefighter needed - being overwhelmed by strong, conflicting sensations. His mind quickly went numb, there was nothing in the world anymore, just an insanely attractive man silently fucking into him like if he was some toy, not a living creature. Which felt absolutely amazing, especially once the Omega bent over him, changed the pace to slow, long thrusts hitting the deepest parts. One hand shifted from the back to the neglected penis, wrapped around it tightly and began jerking the erected shaft.

Buck was close, moaning and squirming like crazy below his loudly breathing boyfriend, waiting for the blissful release to flood his burning body. Street must've been almost there too, throwing quiet curses while he penetrated the contracting insides. And then, out of nowhere, he bit hard into his exposed neck. Orgasm hit him full force instantly, blinded all his senses and filled to the brim with euphoric joy. Regardless of being clouded by arousal, he could feel the officer tremble as he spilled deep inside, which was so erotic, he nearly blacked out from the overstimulation. Fucking incredible.

They didn't leave bed straight after, despite being all sweaty and sticky. The Alpha comfortably laid himself on Jim's flushed chest, listened to the increased heartbeat while awaiting strength to return to his pleasantly limp limbs, unable to go shower just yet.

-You talked to Eddie. -observed the Omega, fondly grazing his partner's spine.

-I did. -the firefighter confirmed, feeling himself relax further as he leaned into the touch. Being in an excellent mood, he didn't mind bringing up the delicate subject to feed Jim's curiosity.

-He wasn't happy. -the cop deducted, making the younger man snort.

-Of course not.

-Please don't leave me. -Street whispered, so quietly Buck almost didn’t hear it.

And oh, that nearly silent plea broke his heart in half.

-Why would I?! -he exclaimed, utterly shocked by what his boyfriend had just implied. Leave him? The most amazing, one of a kind partner he wanted to spend his whole life with? Not. Happening. The firefighter swiftly pulled himself up onto his knees to tower over his distressed Omega. He then firmly cupped the tense face and looking deep into those saddened brown eyes said:

-Jim, sweetheart, I need you to know that I'd never enter a relationship if I wasn't ready to move on. I am not dating you to make Eddie change his mind or whatever. I'll not leave you for him. No matter what. Do you understand?

It stung, learning that all this time, fear of abandonment lingered in his boyfriend's mind. He was always the one dreading being dumped…except with Street, ever since they became an item, not once he felt in such a way. Thus didn't think the other half would.

-Okay. -the officer nodded weakly, clearly relieved by the reassurance. -So…I get to keep you then? -he clarified, even though he surely knew the answer already.

Upon hearing this absolutely adorable question, a wide, bright smile instantly creeped up onto Buck's face. 

-Babe, you are totally stuck with me.

#ao3fic #m/m #m/m smut #9 1 1 fanfiction #SWAT fanfiction #Buck x Jim #omegaverse fanfiction #omegaverse

[fundiebabynamebible]

Absolutely incredible that Anna left the Ms at the Duggars to shack up with her pig of a husband. Disgusting.

She needs to get her priorities straight. Josh isn’t worth her time of day but as her helpmeet she unfortunately ‘had’ to do what he said. Jana is probably overwhelmed as it is and if Maryella did escape then Anna is just as reponsible as Jana in my opinion. I doubt Anna ever saw the kids the entire week of the trial. Madyson probably didn’t know who she was by the time she saw her Mom again.

For those who don’t know; the story (provided by WOACB) is that Anna wanted the Ms to stay at the Reber house. Josh refused because if the authorities found out, he and his godly receding hairline would’ve been dumped in jail until the trial. Anna left the Ms in Jana’s care. Whilst babysitting the kids in September, Jana fell asleep and one (possibly Maryella) escaped and was found outside TTH. A child abandonment Investigation has been opened against Anna. I have so many questions. Why hasn’t Anna been charged? Where were Jim Bob and Michelle? Why is the security at the house so crap? Surely you’d have an automatic lock a small child can’t reach if the house is full of toddlers. Not blaming Jana, it’s just a question I have for her parents. I know toddlers are clever and you have to be super careful.

I don’t think this would be the first time Anna has left her kids with Jana for Josh’s sake. James and Jason seem to be supporting their sister so I think there’s more to it. I think Anna is a bit of a shitty mom.

#fundie #duggar family #anna duggar #josh and anna #ask #anon #jana duggar

[aevyk-ing]

Why Claire’s “last” phrase was wrong

“Don’t give up on me. Don’t stop trying until I love you.”

In any other scenario, this would be a heart-breaking phrase. Not with Jlaire. Especially not with Jlaire.

First, it’s creepy as heck. Young people (and not so young) out there: NO means NO. Rom-coms have taught us that if someone doesn’t love you, just insist. That’s not how love works. Maybe the other person has doubts but you always have to respect their decision. Don’t ghost them, don’t stalk them. If you really love them, you’ll respect what they say. Don’t be a creep.

Second, this makes everything look like it Jim actively chased Claire. Which he never did. He spent several weeks until the Amulet gave him the strength to actually go and talk to Claire. Then, she made the next move. Yep, Jlaire didn’t start happening until Claire congratulated Jim after the audition and invited him over her house for an Algebra lesson. She even cooked guacamole and tried to make him talk about his problems. After that, Jim was really busy so, once again, she was the one who tried to know more about him, to find out what he was hiding. Things got better when she discovered the hidden world of Trolls, with Jim (we think) doing his best so she can visit Trollmarket. Saving Claire’s brother becomes his number one priority, with the side effect he’ll have to fight Gunmar too. But then it’s time for the Spring Fling and, once again, Claire is the one who straight up asks Jim to go to the dance. We all know how that ended, with Jim taking iniciative more and more, creating an unforgettable first dance for the two of them and even going to the Darklands alone. It’s during the sepparation when they both realize their feelings.

Jim never had to decide if he should give up on Claire. Jim never had to try harder and harder so Claire would love him. That was Strickler with Barbara and only after he disappeared! Claire and Jim were infatuated with each other since they met and it took them a while to develop some deeper feelings, each own at their own pace. If so, it was Claire who had to decide if she should give up on that strange boy, but she didn’t have to chase him either. Their relationship developed in a nuanced way, slowly but steady. They are destined to be together. And if they knew that, none of them would have ever said that phrase.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters rise of the titans #rise of the titans #jlaire #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #ramblings

[theinternetphantom]

Okay so I’m not the biggest fan of the show Spirit: Riding Free, but with the movie that recently dropped and the backlash and opinions circling around the show as a whole I wanted to throw in my two cents on a major issue that I, personally, found with the show that I haven’t seen anyone else talk about.

And it all starts with this bitch right here:

Now if you’re a Kate fan I recommend not reading the rest of this because it’s about to get very not nice. But for the rest of us let me lay in some truth real quick.

Before I get into it let me say that have never actually sat down and watched the show closely. I caught bits and pieces from when a relative of mine watched it over the course of a few years, but I watched enough to understand the plot and dynamics of the characters.

And from the moment we met her I absolutely hated Kate. Kate (Miss Flores) is introduced as Lucky’s school teacher. But over the course of the first and second seasons labels Lucky as a ‘trouble kid’ and looks for every opportunity to knock her down. To give some perspective, remember that Lucky has just moved to a whole new town with all new people. She’s twelve, a child. And Lucky may get herself into trouble, but she’s always got the best intentions. Except that Kate never takes the time to really get to know Lucky or listen to her side of the story. She always looks through an incredibly biased lens and punishes her whenever she can. Throughout the first few seasons, she is nothing but awful.

I can’t remember specifically what the original misunderstanding was that made Lucky (rightfully) hate Kate, but I remember the candle mishap. Lucky tries to fix Pru’s candles after another girl ruins them, resulting in her staying at the school all night. And she does, she fixes the candles! But she accidentally falls asleep and reruins them. When Kate finds her in the morning, she instantly accuses Lucky of sabotage. Instead of reading the situation (because Lucky and Pru are literally friends it makes no sense for Lucky to ruin them on purpose) or asking for her side of the story, she instantly throws Lucky out and sends her home.

My real hate stems from the circus episodes, where the circus where Lucky’s mother was from comes back to the town where Lucky currently lives. The entire arc tries to drum up sympathy for Kate, trying to make it seem like she is being ‘left out’ and ostracized.

But, y’all, THIS ISNT ABOUT KATE. It was NEVER about Kate. This entire arc is supposed to be about Lucky and her connection to her past, which up until this point was almost entirely told to her secondhand. This is an amazing opportunity for Lucky to really learn about her mother and her culture. And of course her father is going to be focused on that! It’s part of his past too! But instead of taking the opportunity to admire how much Lucky comes into her own skin here, Kate spends the whole arc JEALOUS OF A DEAD WOMAN.

She decides to make a big scene where she takes a job offer in the city and leave without saying a word. And why is that again? BECAUSE HER BOYFRIEND IS SUPPORTING HIS DAUGHTER IN CLAIMING SOME OF HER IDENTITY. Kate straight up tries to leave without communicating ANYTHING because she’s not the center of attention anymore?? Because they have family in town that SHE feels like she isn’t apart of? Even when they try to make her feel as welcome as possible?? Pathetic. Lucky’s grandparents are literally thrilled that Jim has someone new in his life, and even make the suggestion to include her more!

Kate, if you want to be a part of Jim’s life, then you have to accept the fact that he’s had a life before you. And part of that life includes a daughter that has a DEAD MOTHER. A dead mother who’s picture you PUT IN A DRAWER WHEN HER FAMILY COMES TO THE HOUSE. I’m sorry, respect for the dead much? And her excuse?? “With all of the commotion I didn’t want it to get broken.” Like sis, seriously? I understand that you were trying to do something good, but I highly doubt the family of the woman in the frame would be careless enough to break it. They know who that is, they wouldn’t throw themselves around a picture of their DEAD family member and break it. They have respect.

Not to mention, if Kate REALLY wanted to try to love and get along with Lucky, wouldn’t she WANT to watch Lucky perform in the show? Instead, you make her father come chase after you so that you BOTH miss the performance entirely. Lucky SHOULD HAVE HAD HER FATHER THERE. That creates such a huge riff in their relationship, and rightfully so!

I’m sorry, but Kate spends the ENTIRE arc JEALOUS OF A DEAD WOMAN. I will never get over that. And to make all of this worse, Lucky’s father knows how much Lucky hates this woman. She complains about her CONSTANTLY. And I understand that sometimes parents date a partner that their child hates, but instead of scold her for being jealous of Lucky’s dead MOTHER, he PROPOSES TO HER. While the circus is still in town. WITHOUT COMMUNICATING ANYTHING TO LUCKY. What. A. Train. Wreck. And, rightfully, Lucky’s pissed.

So, Lucky runs away with the circus. Good. Great! Lucky deserves that. After her father clearly choose Kate over her, she deserves to go with the circus to follow in her mother’s footsteps. I think that that would be a fine way to end the show. With Lucky happy in the circus and Kate and Jim back in that town… except the show paints Lucky as the bad guy here. Everyone shuns her for running away and being immature. Instead of understanding her side (which is the right one, btw) they all get mad at her for going with the circus??? Sis what???? That’s her family! If she wants to go with them, let her! They clearly have her interests at heart (they give her trick riding lessons and teach her about her culture) and she’s happy! But what happens instead? Pru and Abigail decide to follow her and convince her to come back, treating her like a bad person for wanting to be with the circus. They guilt trip her into accepting Kate and in the end she comes back, which isn’t fair! When Lucky finally gets treated like a top priority y’all have to rip her away from that? Gross.

Conclusion: Kate is a horrible character with a weak development that never gets held accountable for treating a little girl like garbage.

#spirit riding free #free spirit #spirit stallion of the cimarron #horseshow #spirit horse #lucky #spirit riding free show #Netflix #small rant #salt

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Another double feature, because it's been another hard day.

--

Part 7 of Jimercury Kid series

‘Those bastards!’

Freddie’s exclamation from the next room didn’t alarm Jim; it was something that happened quite often, though the cursing had lessened considerably since they had adopted Khaleel. Whatever it was that had angered Freddie, it had to be something bad.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as he entered the kitchen, finding Freddie and Phoebe at the table, Freddie clutching a newspaper in his shaking hands.

‘Look at this!’ Freddie yelled, practically shoving the paper under Jim’s nose. ‘Look at this absolute trash they’ve printed!’

Jim took a moment to smooth out the paper, before running his eyes over the article that had upset his husband so greatly. The headline read – MERCURY’S SECRET LOVE CHILD? – with the tagline below reading: AIDS survivor rumoured to have fathered child with former girlfriend. Below was an image of Jim in a playground with Khaleel, holding his son protectively in his arms and shielding his face from the camera.

Jim sighed; he had warned Freddie that it was a bad idea for him to take Khaleel to the park that day. He understood why Freddie wanted him to go; he wanted their child to be able to have as normal a life as possible and be able to visit a playground just like any other kid. But the reality was, the press was always sniffing around. Jim had been pushing Khaleel on the swings when he noticed a photographer lurking in the distance, and he quickly grabbed his son before the bastard could snap a photo of his face.

He continued reading the article: Mercury’s gardener, Jim Hutton [pictured above] was seen with the child rumoured to be Mercury’s son in a local playground. The unnamed infant is believed to be the result of an on-and-off again relationship with the singer’s ex-girlfriend, Mary Austin, who he previously described as “the love of his life”-

‘Absolute drivel!’ Freddie grabbed the paper back before Jim could read any more, crumpling it in his hands. ‘Love child. Can you believe them? And I never called Mary the “love of my life,” who the fuck came up with that? “On-and-off again relationship”? We broke up nearly twenty years ago, for God’s sake-’

‘Freddie.’ Jim interrupted calmly. ‘It’s just another shitty tabloid. They make a living off printing lies. You know that.’

Freddie simmered quietly, while Phoebe took the hint and excused himself to put the kettle on, leaving the couple to talk. Jim sat down at the table and took hold on Freddie’s hand, thumb gently stroking his knuckles until Freddie was calm enough to talk.

‘Khaleel is our son.’ He growled between clenched teeth. ‘Mine and yours. No one else’s. I’m sick of them making up lies.’

‘It doesn’t matter what they think.’ Jim replied softly. ‘Weknow the truth. Khaleel is ours and he always will be. So what if the public think he’s Mary’s? Hell, some of them actually believe you’re straight!’

At this, Freddie snorted with laughter.

‘People are going to believe what they want to believe.’ Jim went on. ‘Like you said, that’s the way it is when you’re famous. Fuck them!’ He smiled when Freddie chuckled again. ‘Our little boy knows who his parents are, and I value his opinion much more than some rag of a paper.’

On cue, Khaleel scampered into the kitchen, a large piece of paper clutched in his little hands that he immediately shoved under Freddie’s nose. ‘Look, Baba! I drew you and Daddy and me!’

Freddie looked at the clumsy, crayoned drawing Khaleel had made. The three of them were standing in what he assumed was the garden, Khaleel in the middle while Freddie and Jim stood on either side of him, holding a hand each. There was a little square drawn in the background (which he assumed was the house) a few weirdly shaped cats (all of them with their names spelled wrong) and a round circle with arms and legs and a big smiley face squeezed into the corner with “Uncle Feebee” scrawled beneath it. Freddie’s front teeth were comically large, like a rabbit’s and Jim’s moustache took up half his face.

The sight almost made Freddie burst out crying.

‘It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.’ He said in a tight voice and leaned down to give their son a kiss.

Khaleel knew exactly who his family was. Fuck everyone else.

Ahhh they finally face the real world! It's as if they were living in their own little bubble till now, away from the vicious society that they live in. You expressed Freddie's anger beautifully, I feel. And oof, the comments about Mary. I want to tattoo those words lol because yes, they're relevant in our reality too. And I am sure Freddie would be upset if he saw the disregard his chosen family has faced since his passing.

But in this universe, I am glad that he has Jim and their son to support him and love him. Speaking of Khaleel, I am so in love with this baby boy. Him making a family portrait with his papas and uncle feebee and his feline brothers and sisters is the cutest thing ever💙

I hope you know how much we're all loving your writings, anon. A lot of us genuinely wait for your daily updates, and you have been receiving prompts from other anons too. However, if you ever feel you need to take a break, please don't hesitate to take one. Your priority should be your well being. Also, the offer to talk privately will always stand, so if you ever feel ready to contact me personally, you are most welcome to do so💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #phoebe freestone #freddie and jim and their baby #anon writing

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

4x12 - GSR fix-it fic

(A/N:  What the motherfuck- TUMBLR HAS A TEXT BLOCK LIMIT?!!!! UUUGGGHHH!!!! I guess this is gonna have to be in two parts. But, I guess...this whole thing is pushing 9000 words, so I'll split it 4500-4500. Yeah. I'm as tired as Gil now. I'm gonna go sleep with him. I was inspired to write this after watching that video.  Anyways, they're actually together in this one.  Aka when Gil FINALLY goes home, he can rest his forehead on Sara's and reassure himself that she's actually still okay, and that she's actually still right there, with him.  Because I crave this for them.  So, there are many and heavy contextual changes. Fyi, I'm not writing out every single piece of dialogue/action, hell no.  I'm just writing whatever's relevant to GSR. Oh and, warning - canon-typical ns/fw

{I'm sorry about the formatting but I would like to give} Special thanks to @addictedtostorytelling for...basically saving my ass with all the details of this fic. Thank you for answering my questions, no matter how inane, dumb, unnecessary, or worse. And of course @stokes-theorem got me out of a panic attack; it is much appreciated 🙏)

Gil walked through the house of the 419 of the night, having had to put protective coverings over his shoes so that he did not disturb any evidence he might accidentally step on. He had to keep his back to the wall and walk sideways as well. (The sound of his footsteps were adorable.) As he passed the spare bedroom, he noticed that the victim possessed a collection of butterfly-resembling trinkets, all displayed nicely on her shelf. He made it to the area of event at last, squatting down to take a closer look at the body.

His eyebrows jumped up in shock - the victim had a strong resemblance to Sara. For a few moments longer, he stared at his (secret) girlfriend's image, a dozen thoughts swirling around in his head but never aligning themselves. It was his unfailing sense of duty that allowed him to literally get his head upright and get back to his team, who was waiting outside. But when he opened the door, the very person in his line of sight was Sara; again he stared, this time at her actual self. Inside, there was a dead body, who looked so like her, but here she was, living, breathing and- turning her head to stare right back at him. But the one's gaze held such a different meaning from the other's.

Jim, who was past Sara in Grissom's line of sight, thought that he was the one the team leader wanted to see, so he stepped between the scientists. "Ready for us?"

"For now, no one enters this house except CSI."

[CUE THE INTRO]

Gil assigned Warrick to the car, but he assigned Sara to the perimeter, to which she shook her head in disbelief and questioned, "What? You just did a one hour walk-through. The perimeter cannot be a priority." On 'not', she shrugged and laughed wryly.

His gaze immediately turned beseeching. "I need you to work the outside. Catherine and I will be inside." He momentarily shifted his eyes in the direction of the door at the last bit but immediately looked back at her, his eyes even more pleading. Sara gave him an 'alright, fine' smile and went to do as he said.

Gil did not examine the car, but there was a fair chance that it would yield a fair amount of evidence. However, he had, as Sara remarked, gone over the perimeter, so he knew that Sara's scouring of it would bear no fruit. He deliberately did this; he wanted to dissociate Sara from the case as much as possible, in his own little way.

While Catherine went to interrogate the victim's friend, Gil took the opportunity to go back and stare the body for a bit longer.  He was (understandably) haunted that the 419 looked like the love of his life.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear Catherine walk in behind him; his head flinched to the side when she spoke, "One thing I can never get over with this job: anything can happen to anybody."

Gil clicked his tongue and responded, "That's why we're here," before going back to looking over the corpse.

Soon enough, Sara was let in a little more on the action when she had to crawl under the house and unscrew a pipe running from the bathroom to get the water that had been drained into it, as well as process the actual pipe.  However, Gil insisted that she was to return to the laboratory and test just those pieces of evidences as soon as she was done; his intent was that she would be occupied with something appertaining to the case but not in such a major capacity, thus satisfying her curiosity if only on a temporal basis.  Gil and Sara did not know it, but when she looked up into the pipe, Gil happened to be spraying luminol onto it on the other side.  (A/N:  Can I just take a moment to appreciate the cinematography here?  As well as the music <3)

The bugs helped the bug man out again; flies swarmed the dustbins that had pieces of corpse inside them.

After those were sent back to Al and David, Gil went back inside the house.  This time, he examined the victim's collection of synthetic butterflies.  He was turning over one that was blue, translucent, and had a base so that it could stand, a thoughtful frown on his forehead.  If Sara had been there to see him, she would have kissed it away.  He put the butterfly down and picked up a framed picture of Debbie.  With her arms straight up in the air and an open-mouthed smile that showed her top row of teeth, it was evident that she had been jubilant at the time of photography.  Gil shook his head; not because he pitied the loss of her joy, but because he was once again struck by her likeness to the greatest joy in his own life.  He tore his eyes away from the photo and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to collect himself.

But the adverse was achieved, because the bed was visible in the mirror, and he envisioned the victim sitting on it facing away from him, alive and well.  She then looked over her shoulder at him; the image was replaced with that of Sara.

Grissom clenched his jaw.  He stiffly tilted his head to one side, his gaze at himself hardening.  All in an reinforced effort to steel himself.

He was forcibly yanked out of his thoughts when his phone rang; his head flinched a little way in its direction while his eyes flickered down to it.  He picked it up and manage to announce in his normal voice, "Grissom."

"Hey!"  came the voice of the very woman who plagued him so, her voice cheery; she had dismissed any offence she had felt earlier from her mind and forgiven him, just being happy to hear from her man.

But her voice made him drop his mouth open in shock. Restraining the last of his resolve from flying out the window, he said, "Sara.  Uuuuhhh listen I'm in a bad area, I'll call you back."  He deliberately raised his voice a little to make his lie more believable.

Even though he could not see her, she gave a little nod; physical embodiment of her acknowledgment.  She responded by raising her voice just as he did when he next spoke.  "I got a skin tag off the bathroom drain pipe."

"Skin tag.  That's great.  Uh, give it to Greg."

"Yeah I did.  Hey do you want me to come over there and give you a hand?"

"No I'm-I'm-I'm fine," he stuttered, his free hand moving up then down again, as if he was physically dismissing (his emotions besides) her offer.  "I'll-i'll-i'll- uh...I'll talk to you back at the lab."  He immediately hung up after that.  He raised his head to glare at himself; he needed to force himself to push whatever emotions he had aside so that he could focus on the case.

As for Sara, she frowned in concern, but went on brushing what she put down as his typical eccentricity aside and went to help Warrick out with Michael Clark's car.  A third party would have enjoyed watching them work, especially with John M.  Keane's music.

After that, Sara and Warrick convened with Catherine in the break room to go over the course of the physical events of the murder.  Grissom joined remotely by holding his pager to his ear with one hand, while the break room's table had a speaker that his phone was tapped into; it was certainly much easier to communicate with Sara remotely and in a group where he could avoid speaking directly to her instead of communing in private where he literally had to face her.  Since Grissom was at the house, he walked through it himself in accordance with his team's narration.  When Sara spoke, he had to tilt his phone away from his ear, catching himself tripping again.  Since he was at the scene of the crime, he narrated how the deed was done.  As always, he had been envisioning the actual events, so it was difficult for him to picture such a thing happening Sara's likeness, but he pulled through; he did pause for extremely brief moments, and those could be put down perfectly as him taking time to think.

Sara, Catherine and Warrick finally went home after one and a half shifts.  As Sara approached the door to her and Gil's place, she could hear Hank scratching at it.  She smiled and opened the door. "Hey!" she called at the same time that Hank barked. Hank then stepped behind her and sniffed the air. "He's not here," Sara told him, gently pushing him inside with one hand and holding her kit with the other.  She sat on the couch and directed him to sit next to her.  She took her phone out of her pocket and showed it to him.  "We'll call him, huh?"  Hank had come to understand that that little slab of plastic with an area that would light up was something that humans used to communicate with each other.  There were frequent occasions when one of his humans was away, and the other would hold this object in between him and them.  Then, when the human pressed some things that made beeping sounds, there would be a certain tone for a while until the other human's voice could be heard from it; this was one such occasion.

Sometimes however, the other human's voice would not be heard.  In those cases, he and the human would just bark or speak into the slab by themselves.  After several hours, the slab would start up with a ringing sound, and when the human made a beep, the other human's voice could be heard.  He would always bark joyfully then and wag his tail.

So Hank smiled at Sara, tongue hanging out as he panted eagerly.  He watched and listened as she made the slab beep, and a tone followed.  Not too long after, the tone ended, and was replaced with a, "Grissom." He had had to turn away from the area of wall he was swabbing and take the phone out of his inner breast pocket.

Hank immediately started barking into the object, letting his human know that he was excited to hear from him and missed him.  Both humans giggled.  (At least Hank managed to cheer Gil up for a little bit.)  Sara absentmindedly ran her other hand down his ear as she waited for him to stop barking so that she could have her turn at speaking. The dog was aware of this, and let his mother have her turn in due time. "We miss you," she smiled.

He sounded forlorn as he answered, "I know... I miss you too...but I have to finish this." He was frowning sadly, and his shoulders were slumped. Sara thought that he was sad because he regretted not being able to come home to her. While this was true, he had another reason: that he had to deal with...this. And it was not that he had to deal with it; it was something that he had taken upon himself to. All he wanted was to protect his Sara, even if it meant hiding (fortunately minor) details of the case from her, and foregoing sleep altogether.

"Why not come home? Take a break. And you can continue tomorrow," she tried to coax him.

He shook his head even though she could not see him. "No. You go ahead without me," he said woefully.

She frowned in concern. "We gotta stop doing this." She was referring to the fact that they often stayed up for the whole day to work on cases instead of getting sleep.

"I know, I know," he sighed, his free hand squeezing his temples. "I promise I'll get more sleep after this case, okay?"

There was a period of silence when Sara nodded. "Okay," she said genially.

She heard her boyfriend huff a sigh; he dipped his head defeatedly when he did that. "Look, I-i-i'm sorry," he stuttered for the second phone call from her in a row.

She shook her head, "Don't be. It's alright. I'm guilty of the same thing." As well as she could hear that he was in dire need of sleep, she would not force him to since he did not want to. Plus, there was no way she could get Gil to come home without people questioning as to how she managed to get through to the stubborn workaholic; suspicion would be raised as to the true extent of their relationship.  He was at a loss as to what to say.  So, she rescued him as usual, "I'll see you back at the lab?"

He felt as if there were chains around his body that had just been loosened. Finally, something he could answer honestly! He felt as if he was ripping them off as he answered, "I don't think so. I still have to process the carpet-"

"The carpet?! Gil, that thing runs over every inch of floor!!!" Hank, who had been contently resting his head on Sara's lap, jerked his head up at the sudden interjection.

"I know," he groaned slightly, the vocalisation coming more naturally now that he was free. The boxer lay his head back down. "It has to be done though."

She nodded before saying, "I know. Don't run yourself into the ground, okay? I mean," here he could hear her snicker, "no more than you usually do."

For the first time in over a day, he smiled. A small but genuine smile that made the corners of his storm blue eyes crinkle endearingly; if Sara was there to see it, she would have kissed him. "I'll try not to." And, ah, how nice - she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Take care of yourself. Remember to eat at least. I love you."

"I'll try. I love you too. I love you Hank!" His head jerked up again and enthusiastic barking ensued. The humans followed suit with more giggling before they hung up. With his spirits lifted anew from his conversation with Sara, he pocketed his phone and got back to work with a little more energy than he had before.

As for Sara, she put a hand on Hank's head and said, "Well boy, let's go and eat some breakfast huh?"  He gave a cheery bark and jumped off the couch.  Sara closed and locked the door, carried her kit and followed him down the stairs.  She hurried to put her kit away and then popped back to the kitchen to set out Hank's food, and then get herself food. They ate, went for a walk, and returned. Sara took a shower, and put on Gil's shirt after. When it came time for bed, Sara asked Hank to lie on the bed with her, and cuddled him. "Since Gil isn't here, I'll hold you tonight," she smiled. He seemed to understand as he nuzzled her face and lay his head back down.

A little after the phone call, Gil did go and eat. He shed himself of his coveralls, put them in his car, got in himself, and drove to the nearest diner. He ate there and then took away a second meal for his lunch, which he ate at the appropriate time. Sara went to the laboratory at nine o' clock that night, wanting to do all she could to help her boyfriend. She went to check on Warrick's progress.  Upon finding him sifting through the contents of the victim's vacuum cleaner with a pair of tweezers and coughing profusely, she teased, "He-he-heyyy. Blacklung."

"Ah...I've been sifting through this trash for about six hours." That meant that he had been working for the entirety of the swing shift. "You come here to rescue me or make fun of me?" the poor man retorted.

"I am just looking, relax." She pointed to one of the petri dishes Warrick had set out to sort the evidence. "What are these white fibres here?"

"They must be from the spare bedroom, because all the other carpets are green."

Sara looked at the plan drawing of the house. "Spare bedroom wasn't on his entrance or exit path."

"Look, all I know is that they were near the top of the bag, so it must've been one of the last things he vacuumed." Sara gave small nods of acknowledgment.

"I did manage to find this butterfly pendant..." Warrick moved his tweezers to the petri dish where it was and picked it up, "...with some white fibres in it. Looks like it's from a necklace, or a bracelet. And it has this link, which has snapped so I'm thinking...sign of struggle?" He straightened up a little bit to raise his point.

"Killer was in that spare bedroom."

Gil's panicky obsessiveness was certainly affecting a fair few of his teammates. Catherine went to the scene of the crime at the same time as Sara returned to the laboratory.  She knew that Gil was very stressed out about the victim looking so much like their dear friend, and so she wanted to help him.

(Poor Gil...he did not realise that when he worried, his team family worried too and would do whatever they could for him; he did not realise that they could love him as much as he loved them.  He had such heavy doubt about his own lovability, so much so that he even almost rejected Sara when she first asked him out.)

Catherine walked in to see Gil processing the carpet (to the amazing soundtrack). During the conference, he had mentioned that he had processed the carpet on the threshold of the bathroom, and at present he was processing the area of carpet just beyond that.  Her work-wife face on, she said to him, "Don't tell me you never went home."

Gil looked up at her, one hand still on the carpet and the other holding his filter paper. "Okay." Since she did not want to hear anything to that effect, he decided to water it down by saying, "I just got started in here.  I haven't even got into any of the rooms yet."

"You know you lose your edge after sixteen hours, and you're into your third shift. She brought her forearms out to her sides. "I mean I'm all for overtime but, this is just plain greedy."

He shook his head tiredly before reassuring her, "My knees can't take this anymore." As fuelled as he was from his food, it still physically hurt to remain on one's knees for an extended period of time.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes."

"Ah," she nodded approvingly.  "Then, how about a shower?"  Gil shook his head.  Catherine raised an eyebrow in turn.  At Gil's look of horror, she clarified, "I mean at your place.  You need to go home."

"As soon as we find some evidence, I promise."

"With fresh eyes you won't miss it."

Her work-husband groaned as he stood up, his knees creaking.  "Just talk it through with me will ya?  What do we know?"

Catherine's eyes shifted to the side in thought.  "Alright."  She inhaled deeply before continuing, "The bathroom is where things got started. Candles, oils...steam shower...cleaned up, oiled up...sexed up."

"Let's go back to the bedroom," Gil voiced, moving his head a little way in the direction of the bedroom. They got their UV-protective goggles out of their kits, with Catherine taking the torchlight as well.  Cath shone the light on the topmost bedsheet, but nothing showed up under the fluorescence. "No, nothing on this sheet," Gil noted. He lifted that sheet to expose the one underneath, to yield the same result; he gently cocked his head to one side in acknowledgement (which was cute).

"She changed her sheets for her date; I would," Catherine remarked.

Since there was nothing to be found on the top surface of the bed, Gil let his gaze wander to the side of the bed. A ring embedded into the mattress caught his eye with a loop red cloth threaded through it with the rest stuffed under the mattress caught his eye; this time his head jerked a little to the side in vigilance. He squatted down and pulled it out, passing hand over hand.  When it was completely free and he could see what it was, he transferred it to one hand so that he could take off his goggles with the other.  He then looked up at his colleague with an uncomfortable expression and called, "Hey Cath..." When she looked at him, he held the thing up as if he was holding a dead rat and continued, "...got silk?"  His eyes shifted to the object as he asked that.  What he meant by that was if there was an identical finding on her side.

She looked down at her side of the mattress, and opened her mouth at the discovery and looked back at him.  Gil kept an inquiring gaze on her and took the opportunity to stand up.  She bent to her side while reaching an arm down and fished the cloth out.  "Why yes I do."  Gil looked back at the one in his own hand and shook it to see if anything would fall out; he was still disconcerted and frowning though.  His unease was turned into scepticism when Catherine said, "Iiii don't mean to embarrass you but um...some guys need leverage," as she stepped towards the foot of the bed and removed the sheets to uncover the barrier.

"They do?"  He was frowning a little bit harder; Sara certainly never complained.

Grinning in the hopes of finding something, Catherine gave a nod before saying, "I'll dust for prints."

While she did that, Gil's phone rang again.  He took his phone out from the same place he had when Sara called.  "Grissom."  He stuffed the hand not holding his phone comfortably into his pocket.

"It's Warrick.  I have somethin' for you - I found a butterfly link.  With some white fibres in it."

Grissom started walking to the other bedroom.  "Butterfly where?"

"In the vacuum bag.  You check all the rooms?"

"Lemme look again, and I'll get back to you."

"Alright." Grissom had reached the spare bedroom by then, so he put his phone away and got up to the shelf where the victim's butterfly collection was, a smile gracing his face at the sight of insects. He shone his (regular) torchlight on the contents of the shelf. When came across some more photos of Debbie, he drew himself back slightly, but quickly tore his gaze away from them; this was not the time to dwell on his feelings. His gaze averted to a blue jewellery box next to them, decorated with even more images of butterflies. He opened it; inside, there was an assortment of accessories, all butterfly-themed. He carefully used a finger to move them about, pushing them aside to see if there were any broken-off pieces. He did find one near the top right of the box.

In the meantime, Catherine had successfully made a print show up.  She tape-lifted it with a triumphant smile and proudly brought it to show Grissom.  "Hang one.  Toe print.  I'll have Sara compare it against both victims."

"Good."  Sara was the only unoccupied person.  "Warrick found a butterfly charm in the vacuum bag...I think I just found a piece from the same chain in this box."  He pointed to it.

"Butterfly huh?"  Catherine mused, her eyes moving to look over the rest of the trinkets.

"She had a collection." He seemed quite happy to announce that, and it was no wonder why.

"Gifts?  From her...gentleman callers?"

"Maybe the killer was taking his gift back.  As in, leave no trace.  Maybe he finally ran out of patience and got sloppy."  At the last sentence, his voice deepened, as if he was challenging the unseen and unknown perpetrator.  Upon shining his torch on the shelf below, he found a strand of hair.  Short and white, as would come from an elderly man.  He squatted, with Catherine following suit, and picked it up with his tweezers.  "And this is why I didn't leave."  His voice was soft with excitement and victory. Catherine left to bring the hair and toe print back to the laboratory, giving the print to Sara and the hair to Greg. Gil got back to Warrick and informed him of the matching butterfly.

Sara went to take the lower ten cards of both victims. Having finally gotten the chance to look at Debbie, she moved the swivel chair she was sitting on to draw herself up beside the victim's face. She stared down at it.  And suddenly, she understood.  She understood Gil's skittishness, understood why he had been reluctant to let her in on the case.  And she was, of course, haunted; it could very well have been her on Al's slab.  She glanced about, not knowing what to think; she could not articulate her emotions even in her own head. Eventually, they settled on one person: Gil. Gil, her protector; the person who had been 'protecting' her from this case at any rate.  She would speak to him to clear her head; she could always talk to him, and he would never turn her away. Well...he used to. But that was when his feelings towards her were even more of a mess than they currently were. He had progressed a lot with her help.

With that temporary comfort, she finished up and went to run the prints through AFIS. That took several hours. By the time that day shift roller around, both Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark were ruled out.  She then went to find Gil.  Or Catherine; whichever she found first. She went to the shift supervisor's office; nobody was there. And nobody was in the assistant shift supervisor's office either. But after some wandering around, she found Catherine in the locker room, sitting on a bench and changing her shoes. "Hey," Sara called, trying to seem cheery, "you seen Grissom?"

"He's still at the crime scene," Catherine responded, glancing at her as she did.

Sara nodded to signify her acknowledgment before reporting, "I eliminated both victims from the print you pulled off the bed."

"Well we know she was fishing off the company pier..." Sara responded with a look and a nod. "You uh, seen Debbie?" Catherine looked at her properly, wanting to gauge her reaction.

"Yeah," she said laconically, not wanting to give anything away.

"And?" Catherine enquired.

"Yeah I compared her...toe prints," she avoided still, her expression hardening.

Seeing as that would lead nowhere, Catherine decided to comment, "If I didn't know better I'd think that it was you on that table."

"I didn't really...look at her face," Sara denied. Noticing Sara seemed sad somehow, Catherine relented and just gave her a knowing look. Sara let her face fall, and allowed herself to sound as pleading as she really was when she asked, "If you see Grissom will you tell him?" Catherine nodded sincerely. Sara just walked off after that. The assistant shift supervisor convened with Jim and they went to Desert Palm print samples.  They did find a match; Dr.  Tripton.  Catherine phoned Gil and informed him of it.

#Youtube #csi #gsr #4x12 #gil grissom #sara sidle #billy petersen #william petersen #jorja fox #c-v-c-e fic

[camsthisky]

Bruce crouches on the ledge, hidden by shadows, just out of Commissioner Jim Gordon’s sight. It’s easier with the bat signal lit up, and usually Bruce would play up the dramatics, try to see how long his partner could keep a straight face.

Tonight is not a usual night, though.

For one, his partner is missing. They’d split up to investigate a warehouse, but ten minutes in, Bruce had gotten a panicked, “B, they’re—”

After that, nothing but static on his comm. Bruce had searched the warehouse top to bottom three times.

No Robin.

And now this. The bat signal lit up. Bruce had no clues as to where Robin could be, and he can only hope that this interruption is connected.

He slips from the shadows just as Gordon turns to light another cigarette.

“Holy—”

Gordon startles at the abrupt sight of him, clutching at his chest. Bruce’s heart aches at the lack of Robin trying to muffle his snickers that usually accompanied the reaction.

His grief doesn’t show on his face.

“Would ya quit scaring me like that? I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Bruce says nothing. Gordon sighs, fishing something from inside his coat and holding it out for Bruce to see.

“A kid from Gotham University showed up at our front door about twenty minutes ago, absolutely scared out of his mind. He gave this to us,” Gordon lightly shakes the object—a communicator, Bruce realizes. Sleek. Small. Too well-made for any of the usual Gotham suspects. “Kid said it’s for you.”

“And the student?” Bruce asks, taking the communicator from Gordon.

Gordon stuffs his hands into his coat pockets. “Conference room downstairs. I asked one of the ladies at the front desk to watch over him and take his statement since I’m pretty short-handed tonight. She should be finishing up soon.”

“Hn.”

“You’re real talkative tonight.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to respond to that. He growls, “What else.”

“Nothing we can’t handle ourselves,” Gordon sighs. “Nothing urgent, at least.”

He sounds exasperated, and Bruce knows from talking to Gordon during the day that the GCPD is slammed with cases that the city council won’t sign off on asking for Batman’s help. Not to mention all of their internal affairs issues.

Downstairs is probably a real clusterfuck.

Still, Bruce has other priorities.

“Any leads on the sender?” Bruce asks.

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. Migraine, probably. “No. Apparently, the kid was drugged and kidnapped. He woke up a few blocks from here with a note.”

“The note?”

“Being processed as evidence,” Gordon tells him. He hands over a photograph. “Here. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

The note. Bruce doesn’t recognize the handwriting. There’s no signature, either. Just a few words: Go to GCPD. Device must go to Batman.

Vague. Bruce should get back to the Cave and analyze it right now. It may be connected to Robin. He has what he needs from the Commissioner, and usually by now, he’d have vanished off into the shadows.

But tonight’s not usual. For some reason, Bruce hesitates.

The communicator crackles to life.

“I assume that my lovely device has reached the fabled Batman’s hands,” a voice says. “That’s good. I was getting tired of babysitting.”

Bruce stiffens. Definitely connected, then. Gordon blinks at the device, his brain starting to connect dots. Unfortunately, he’s missing some of the key dots. He’ll only be working with half a picture.

Bruce doesn’t draw it for him. He stays silent.

“I’m assuming you’re listening,” the voice says, and this time, Bruce can hear a commotion in the background. “Bring the brat over.”

Gordon’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Fuck you, you bald jerk!” Bruce’s pre-teen ward yells out, and if he didn’t have the cowl on, Bruce is pretty sure he’d be heaving out a sigh, because of course Dick is antagonizing them. “I’m pretty sure I know exactly what I’m talking about. The color scheme is atrocious. No flair, or anything. What are you, second-rate kidnappers? Where’s your pizazz?!”

“Will you shut up?!” another voice cries, probably whoever was ordered to bring Dick over to the first voice.

“It’s literally illegal for me to stop running my mouth. If I’m quiet for more than thirty seconds, the world’ll explode. Now let me go so I can kick your mustached, jumpsuit wearing asses ten ways to Sunday!” Dick yells.

“Not happening,” the first voice says.

“Ow!” Bruce’s heart seizes at Dick’s short cry of pain. “Hey, Mister, I think you missed your calling as a meat tenderizer!”

“Batman’s on the line,” the first voice tells Dick, and this time, Dick does go quiet. “You wanna speak to him, then you behave.”

There’s one, two, three, four, five seconds of silence. And then—

“B?” Dick call out, sounding tentative in a way that puts Bruce’s nerves on fire. There’s static in his brain, and he’s barely able to push past the fuzziness to hear Dick ask, “Are you there?”

Somehow, Bruce manages to sound like his normal, gruff, Batman self when he says, “Robin.”

Dick exhales loudly. And this time Bruce can’t help the fond eyeroll when Dick starts chattering again.

“Good golly gosh, Batman,” Dick says, sounding ten times brighter than before, like he hadn’t just been using language that would have made Alfred wash his mouth out with soap. “You wouldn’t believe how dull this place is. I mean, you’d probably like it with how dark and dreary it is. Perfect for bat brooding.”

There’s more commotion, some angered and exasperated shouts from the background of the communicator, but Dick keeps talking.

“And holy Batman, B, when they surprise adopted me I did not think that I was gonna have to deal with more black. What’s with old guys and monotone colors? D’ya think it makes you look manly?”

“That’s enough, kid,” the first voice says. Then, to Bruce, “If you want the chatterbox traffic light back, you’re going to meet me on 32nd by the old batting cages. Oh, and you’re going to bring me a file from the GCPD.”

“File?” Gordon finally steps in.

“Ah, so the Commish was listening in. Oh well. Yeah. Jaquelyn Briggins. Her file, or you don’t see the kid again.”

“Fine,” says Bruce, before Gordon can put his foot in his mouth. “Fifteen minutes. The batting cages on 32nd.”

The line goes dead. Bruce makes sure it’s temporarily disabled for sure with an attachable EMP.

“Get the file,” Bruce demands.

Gordon sighs, exasperatedly, but walks towards the roof’s door. “I’ll get it. Meet me in my office.”

Bruce goes from roof to window in seconds, slipping into Gordon’s office before the commissioner gets there. Once he brings the file, they pour through it.

Thirteen minutes.

“What’s this guy want with Jaquelyn Briggins?” Gordon asks. “There’s barely anything in here.”

Which is better for them, Bruce thinks as he scans the two sheets of information a third time. More information would take time to sort through things that don’t matter. In this case, all the info Bruce needs is right in front of him.

Eleven minutes.

Bruce takes a picture with his cowl lenses. “I’m borrowing the file.”

Gordon doesn’t look happy. “That’s illegal, you know.”

“So are vigilantes.”

“Bring it back,” Gordon sighs.

Bruce grunts an affirmative, and then he’s off.

The journey to the meet up place is practically a blur. He’s at three minutes when he reaches 32nd street. He reaches the batting cages at two.

He perches from a nearby roof ledge, scanning the area.

Dick’s information is as accurate as always. Four men stand outside the batting cages. There are two men holding Dick, one grabbing each arm. Dick’s staring down a third man, and the last is looking around the practically abandoned street.

One is bald. Two have mustaches. All of them are wearing black jumpsuits. The one standing in front of Dick is wearing rings, which match the scratches on Dick’s cheek.

Nothing else is out of the ordinary. He double checks, sends a discreet message to Alfred to prep the first aid kit and start researching Briggins, and makes sure Superman’s frequency is on hand if things get dicey.

Then, Batman gets to work.

Dick knows he’s there. The way he squints his eyes and grits his teeth as he chatters—yells, really—at the ring-wearer is enough for Bruce to know that much. The kid is yelling louder, now, raving about the goons’ lack of fashion.

It’s agitating them enough for Bruce to slip from the rooftop, landing almost soundlessly in the shadows. He tenses, waits for one of the goons to start yelling at Dick, and then rolls out smoke pellets. They work almost immediately, and Bruce makes his move.

It’s only been a few years since he and Dick have started working together, and even less since they’ve worked together well enough to seamlessly fight half-blind. But, Bruce is careful, and soon, he has the lookout and one of Dick’s captors knocked out with well-placed blows, and as Dick takes out his other captor, Bruce catches the throat of the ring-wearer and slams him up against a chain-link face.

“Who is Jaquelyn Briggs?” Bruce growls out. He pays no attention to the fight behind him. Dick takes the last man out in less than ten seconds. The ring-wearer’s eyes are wide. Bruce slams him against the fence again. “Tell. Me. Now.”

“My—She’s my cousin, man!” the guy croaks, hands scrabbling at the glove crushing his windpipe. “The police—hrk—covered up her death! I know it!”

Bruce lets the ring-wearer fall to the ground. He starts to tie him up after he alerts Gordon to the situation.

Dick crouches down by the restrained ring-wearer, head tilted. “I don’t get why you had to surprise adopt me to find out whether or not the police covered up your cousin’s death. You could’ve just asked Commissioner Gordon and he would have helped you!”

Bruce sighs. “Robin.”

Dick looks up at him. “What? It’s true.”

“Stop using the words ‘surprise adopt’. It’s not funny.”

Dick smirks. “Au contraire, Mister Batman, sir. I think it’s hilarious.”

Bruce rolls his eyes under the cowl. He’s going to be hearing this one for a while. But, he thinks that he can probably live with it, now that his kid is back where he’s supposed to be—right next to him.

“We’re leaving, Robin.”

“’Kay! Bye, surprise adopted father who is no longer my surprise adopted father!”

“Robin.”

“Just say I’m funny and I’ll move on.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re probably right.”

Bruce rolls his eyes again, fonder and even more exasperated than the first time. He ushers Robin forward, and then they disappear into the night, the only trace that they were there the four men they’d tied up and left for the police.

Dick chatters the whole way home. Bruce wouldn’t have it any other way.

#camryn writes #bruce wayne #dick grayson #dc

[hailbop1701]

25 Days of FicMas

December 5th prompt: Stuck in a room with someone you hate on Christmas

Word Count: 3,077

Lockdown

I know this late! I'm so sorry but my laptop decided it wanted to start a stupidly long update that took the entire day! 🤦‍♀️ I don't really like what I wrote but here it is anyway! Not my best work but someday I'll make it up by writing a detailed chapter Enemies to lovers fic. I promise

-H❤🖖

It was holiday time on the Enterprise, everyone seemed to be in a mood to celebrate. Well almost everyone, the Enterprises infamous grouchy CMO was in anything but a cheerful mood. He scowled and barked at everyone, from ensign to the Captain, so most just kept out of his way. Nurse Chapel clucked her tongue disapprovingly, “I know that this is his least favorite time of year but honestly!” she said resisting the strong urge to stomp her foot in frustration. She watched as another young ensign tearfully left the medbay; the girl quickly rushed past the Captain as he entered the room. He watched as the ensign left with a look of shocked concern, “he in his office?” Jim asked almost casually. Chapel huffed, “Yes, that was his last appointment of the night. He has officially locked himself away in his office,” she said dryly. Kirk smiled his thousand-watt grin. “Good I need your help,” he said bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited child. Christine Chapel looked at the man skeptically, “and why would I do such a thing Captain?” she asked as she cleaned up the nurse’s station. Kirk leaned in as if what he was about to tell her was top secret, “It’s about Bones...and a certain engineer,” he said in a sing-song voice. 

Christine perked up and smiled wickedly, “Oh please tell me we fix what’s between them!” she groaned slapping down a padd scaring a nearby orderly. Kirk smirked, “Oh I guarantee it will fix things! They say that they hate each other, but everyone - even Spock can see that it’s a bunch of bull,” he said keeping his voice low. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the CMO’s office door open, “I’ll send you the details later,” he whispered winking. “Jim stop harassing my nurses!” McCoy snapped stalking towards them deep scowl on his face. Holding up his hand in a placating gesture Jim grinned, “Just looking for you Bones!” he said giving his friend a smile. 

Over the next few days, Jim Kirk and Christine Chapel exchanged messages and met in quiet rec rooms and corridors to finalize their plan. On the day that they were to execute, “Operation:  Lockdown,”. Christine sat at the nurse’s station, keeping a casual eye on the CMO’s office waiting for McCoy to leave for his usual lunch break. When he left she quickly sent a message to Kirk telling him to “get a move on,”  she watched as Kirk quickly jogged through Medbay’s doors into Leonard’s office; Christine watched the clock anxiously. Kirk swiftly left the office and up to the desk grinning wickedly, “part two,” he whispered before leaving to the mess hall to catch a quick meal. Christine smiled to herself as she tapped away at the most recent crew physicals. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been a hellish day for you from the moment you woke up that morning, first you slept in making you twenty minutes late for your shift. Scotty wasn’t pleased but he let it slide due to the Holiday, and as a passive-aggressive punishment he gave you grunt work. A sudden shock brought you back to the present, cursing you shook your hand hoping to rid it of the tingling pain. A chirp from your belt made you want to cry in exasperation, flipping open your communicator you grimaced at the possible next project. “(Y/L/N) here,” you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose. “Lassie I need you to head to medical, McCoy’s replicator is on the fritz. The staff would love for you to make it hasty if ye can,” Scotty said sounding almost amused. Suppressing a groan you nodded to no one in particular, “Yeah Scotty I got it,” you muttered clearly unhappy with the prospect of going to Medbay; not that going to Medbay was a problem it was just the possibility of seeing the CMO. Putting away your tools, you close up the now functioning console. Waving goodbye to the people in security you nervously scurried to the Medical Bay. Clutching your toolkit in a white knuckle grasp your mind drifted remembering exactly how you came to be on bad terms with Doctor Leonard McCoy. 

It was after the Enterprise was rebuilt; being stationed on Yorktown already, you were offered a position on her crew. Montgomery Scott came to you with the Captain in tow to ask if you personally. Surprised at first you couldn’t help but beam and be excited at the opportunity. Sometime after accepting the position as Mr. Scotts second you were informed that you had to get a general physical done; sighing at the prospect of having to deal with Yorktown medical you kept a constant mantra in your head, “Enterprise, Enterprise, Enterprise,” as if you could click your heels and you’d be right at home. Squaring your shoulders you checked in at the front desk; the receptionist smiled trying to hide a sympathetic cringe, she indicated that you should go to the twelfth floor where the Enterprises primary physician would see you. Hesitantly you said your thanks put off by the woman's attitude and moved to the elevators with a new nervousness. 

A kind nurse (who turned out to be the one and only Christine Chapel) waited for you by the elevators. Looking up from her padd she had smiled at you warmly; most likely to put you at ease. “Lieutenant, lovely to see you,” she said, tone ringing like a bell; you smiled back before following her to an empty exam room. After weighing you and taking your height she gestured for you to hop up on the exam bed, smiling she looked up from her padd, “Alright, just wait here and Doctor McCoy will be in shortly,” and you were left alone to your thoughts. You had of course heard of the infamous Doctor of the Enterprise; the stories had to be exaggerated. At least you hoped they were. The sound of a door opening made you jump slightly; turning enough to see a dark-haired man wearing medical whites reading a padd. He was quite handsome if you were being honest with yourself. The only thing that threw you off was the deep scowl darkening his face. “Lieutenant (Y/L/N), I see that you had your yearly physical last month and that you’ve recently been here for...a broken arm,” he said in a rather nice southern drawl. You nodded, “Yes sir, broke it while fixing the wiring between...nevermind,” you laughed nervously at your babbling. McCoy raised a single eyebrow and managed to keep his scowl in place, “Engineer, huh?” he asked plucking a medical tricorder from it’s charging station across the room. You nodded sitting up straighter as he came back twiddling with the controls, he ran the scanner over your body and quickly took note of what it told him. “You idiot engineers are almost in my Medbay more than security,” he said gruffly. The statement made you bristle slightly a scowl now adorning your face, “We do what we need to, to keep things running.” you muttered sitting ramrod straight.  Doctor McCoy snorted, “ you’re all reckless and have the self-preservation instincts of a rock,” he said, not caring at all if you were insulted. Gritting your teeth you fully glared at the man now, “Yeah well Doctors can be pompous egotistical assholes but you don’t see me complaining,” you said cocking your head to the side as if you were daring him to retaliate. The Doctor glared sticking a hypo sharply into your neck. You refused to flinch or complain. Doctor McCoy tossed away what seemed to be a vaccination and dismissed you with a simple, “You’re clear,” 

You stopped before you hit the Medbay doors; blinking the memory away, you square your shoulders and headed in. You’ve been on the Enterprise for a year and you still argued with the CMO. You did your best to avoid him but something about him keeps bringing you back. The verbal sparring matches were fun and pretty legendary if you paid attention to crew gossip. He wasn’t bad to look at either, but for the life of you, you couldn’t stand the man. Literally. You couldn’t really stand in his presence, your knees would go weak and you constantly felt like you needed to throw up. Uhura and Christine laughed when you told them, they would declare that “You like him!” but you refused to admit anything of the sort. Walking into Medbay, you saw Christine puttering around checking off various things on her padd; upon seeing you, she glided over with a smile on her face. “Thank you so much for making this a priority!” she said giving you a gentle hug. Hugging her back you looked around noticing that Medbay was pretty much empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked walking with Christine to McCoy’s office, “The Holiday party,” she said giving you a look; as if you were supposed to know that. And she would be right, you winced at the reminder, “Kinda glad for my punishment now,” you muttered dryly. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was empty. “Doctor McCoy is a terror this time of year and a broken replicator means no coffee, which means my life is hell until it’s fixed,” Christine said grumpily with a roll of her eyes. You snickered at the prospect of seeing the Doctor suffer through caffeine withdrawals, “I’ll do my best,” you said after taking a quick look at the machine. Christine grinned, “I’ll leave you to it,” she gushed before rushing back out into the ward. You shook your head, ‘she’s acting weirder than she usually does,’ 

Prying open the maintenance hatch you waved a hand back and forth at the smoke that emitted from the wiring. “Great,” you muttered as you pulled a little flashlight from your kit. Turning it on you peered inside careful of the now exposed wires, “what in the freaking hell,” you said mystified. Putting the flashlight between your teeth so you could use both hands you started to painstakingly pick through the circuitry. At the end of your first hour, you had almost taken apart the replicator entirely, “I’m gonna need all new parts,” you mumbled around the end of the flashlight. “I swear I’m not going to help him when he comes crawling to me tomorrow with a hangover,” a distinct southern voice grumbled from outside the door; of course you didn’t hear him until he was already in the room cursing up a storm startled by your appearance. Yelping at the sudden noise you dropped the flashlight from your mouth and wrenched your arm free of the replicator’s insides. Yelping a second time you hold your now heavily bleeding arm, “damn it!” you cursed irritated. You heard McCoy rush towards you, he quickly placed a hand towel from the nearby sink and placed it over the deep laceration. “Keep pressure on it,” he whispered sounding almost apologetic. You replaced his hand with yours wincing only a little at the burning sensation running up your arm into your shoulder. You watched as Doctor McCoy moved quickly for the door but slammed into it because it didn’t open for him. “What the hell?” he whispered and continuously hit the door control only for it to keep denying him. He looked over at you and you shrugged, “don’t look at me,” you said butt hitting the floor feeling light-headed.

Leonard cursed again; giving up on the door he pulled open multiple desk drawers looking for his mission first aid kit. After he found it he rushed to your side again, “How are you feeling?” he asked even though he was running a tricorder over you. “Today has been shitty,” you grunted tossing your wire cutters back into your tool bag. Leonard hummed in agreement as he bandaged your arm and giving you a hypo to help staunch the bleeding even further and another for the pain. “Thanks,” you sighed holding your arm protectively to your chest, Doctor McCoy huffed and sat back so he was facing you. You both looked up when the lights flickered off and into emergency lighting. “Typical,” McCoy muttered pinching the bridge of his nose, “The room is in Lockdown,” you observed mildly. Leonard scowled at your detachment, “Do you have a communicator on you?” he asked holding back his insults and sarcasm. Rolling your eyes you pulled the device from it's hiding place on your belt, flipping it open you hoped to reach Scotty. Nothing. Gritting your teeth you tried Uhura. Nothing again. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly you tried one more time; to whoever was on comm tonight. Nothing for briefest of moments before the voice of Kevin Riley filtered through, “Kevin!” you gasped relieved, “hey I have a problem. I’m stuck in the CMO’s office can you send someone to help?” you asked sweetly. There was a pause over the line and the sound different voices whispering, “Yeah sure (Y/N) but it might take a while, we’re on a skeleton crew tonight. I’ll see what I can do!” Kevin said, his voice going pitchy at the end. 

“He just lied through his teeth,” McCoy hissed irritation showing on his face and you offered your comm so he could try. “Nothing I can do; Jim is already too far gone and is probably the one who did all of this. And he most likely has an order out preventing anyone from helping us.”  you pulled out your padd, hitting a few commands you pulled up to what looks to be a timer. You bit your lip, “yeah looks like we’re in timeout,” you said carefully leaning back so you were against the wall by the broken replicator. “Means he broke your caffeine provider,” you joked half-heartedly making the doctor shake his head ruefully. “Of all the stupid things…” he sighed. You observed him for a moment wanting to say something. Deciding against it you looked down at your scuffed up boots, “This has to be a great Christmas, stuck in a room with someone you hate,” 

McCoy’s head snapped in you up at your statement, his green eyes flickered between so many emotions you couldn’t keep track. He settled on regret and shame, “I don’t hate you,” he whispered looking down at his clasped hands. You were about to laugh but he continued cautiously as if he were choosing his words with great care. “Though you are a pain in my ass, I don’t hate you. On the day we met, I got some bad news and I took it out on you. I am sorry for that.” he said taking a breath he looked up into your eyes again. “I Found out that I can’t see my daughter unless my ex allows it,” he said hoping the explanation would ease your mind as to why he had been such an ass to you. Thinning your lips you felt sympathy wash through you, knowing that’s not what he’s after you slowly crawled to sit next to him, “I’m sorry that happened, I guess that first impression made it hard for us to get along,” you said thinking about all the times you riled the man up over the past year. There was a tense silence for the next few minutes as you both tried to figure out how to mend the bridges you had burned. “I’m sorry,” you both said at the same time creating more awkwardness. Chuckling you picked at the bandages on your arm, the blood had already seeped through creating a giant red splotch, McCoy batted your hand away and gently tightened them again. “How about we start over?” he suggested after he was done. A smile crossed your lips, “Nice to meet you, I’m Lieutenant (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” you said holding out your hand. 

McCoy smiled back taking your much smaller hand into his, “Leonard McCoy,” he whispered. “You know I’m going to need help dealing with the Captain after this, you in?” Leonard’s smile turned into a grin, “Darlin’ it would be my pleasure,” he drawled. The sudden pet name made your cheeks go red, Leonard didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He loved it when you blushed, whether it was from anger or embarrassment. He listened amused as you muttered about programming an alarm to play Klingon death metal loudly in Kirk’s quarters at three in the morning. You trailed off after trying to explain how you would do it, sheepishly you looked up through your lashes seeing Leonard looking down at you with complete wonderment. “What?” you laughed and he shook his head like he was trying to shake himself out of a daze, “nothin’ I-” he broke off the sentence and looked away embarrassed. The tops of his ears turned red; at that point, you only just noticed that neither of you let go of each other’s hands. He didn’t say anything so you didn’t either. Feeling the day hit you, you yawned tiredly and rested your head on McCoy's shoulder; “(Y/N)” the sound of Leonards’s voice made you hum, eyes closing. “After we thoroughly take care of Jim, do you…” he trailed off losing courage. Leonard growled in frustration, it made you smile. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink with you,” you murmur sleepily. The doctor snorted a laugh, “typical, you couldn’t have let me finish,” he muttered referencing past arguments where he could rarely get a word in edgewise. “It’s all part of my charm,” you yawned and moved closer as Leonard pulled his arm away so he could wrap it around you. He felt warm despite the chill in his office, he was actually happy to be stuck there with you “I don’t know darlin’ I think we need to get the Captain a bottle of bourbon,” you snorted and shook your head, “No his ego will be the size of Europa,” you mumbled drifting off. It was another hour before the lights flickered back to normal and the office door became unsealed, “not a word Christine,” McCoy hissed when the head nurse peaked in mischievously. The woman chuckled, “of course not sir,” she whispered watching as her boss gently lifted you off the floor with ease.

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#star trek aos #leonard mccoy x reader #Leonard McCoy #reader insert #25 days of ficmas #Hailey the typo queen

[fantasy2739]

YES please continue the Merlin surviving Excalibur!! Maybe something about the toll that helping Merlin took on Douxie?

Hi, I’m sorry this took so long but I really wanted to nail it down properly. This defo goes through the last episode but unfortunately no Charlie. I couldn’t find a way to fit him in.

Link to part 1 if you want to read that first:

https://fantasy2739.tumblr.com/post/626333110868541440/can-you-please-do-a-fix-where-merlin-survives

So this is part 2 of the Merlin lives AU!!

I really hope you like it!!

“Our first priority has to be getting Nari away.” Merlin said firmly. They had gathered around the counter at HexTech. Hisirdoux was leaning heavily on his staff and the counter. Merlin stood next to him, ready to catch him if he passed out.

“But what about Jim?” Claire and Toby asked simultaneously.

“We cannot just abandon Master Jim.” Blinky said.

“We have to.” Merlin said. “His soul is lost.”

“It’s not.” Morgana interrupted. “Claire and I saw it in the shadow dimension.” She put a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Do not fear, I will help you save him.”

“None of it will matter if the Arcane Order gets Nari.” Merlin said bluntly. They were still outside. No doubt waiting for them to reveal themselves.

“But you said if they don’t have the Genesis thingys it’ll be fine, right?” Toby pointed out. Merlin sighed.

“True but we can’t risk that.” Merlin agreed. “If they find Nari it won’t be long until they find the seals. Even if they don’t, they could force Nari to help their schemes.”

“We’re going to help Jim.” Claire said. “Either help us or get out of here.”

“Get out? The Arcane Order will eat you alive.” Merlin said with confidence. He knew they couldn’t defeat the Order, even with him.

“Enough of this. The Arcane Order is outside. We should make our own plans.” Morgana said. Claire, Toby, Krel, Steve, Blinky and Aaargh left. Nari looked at Merlin nervously.

“Merlin.” Hisirdoux panted out. “You taught me that all life is precious. We can’t just abandon Jim. After everything he’s done.”

“Hisirdoux.” Merlin began.

“No.” Hisirdoux breathed. “You made me a Master Wizard. You have to listen to me now.”

“I know you want to save your friends.” Merlin tried again.

“It’s not about saving my friends.” Hisirdoux interrupted. “We can’t leave Jim to live the rest of his life like that. It’s not right, it’s not fair. You’re taking the easy way out.” Hisirdoux panted heavily, clinging to the counter. Merlin stepped closer but was waved off. “‘M fine.”

“You are not fine.” Merlin insisted. “I’m taking you and Nari and getting out of here.”

“I’m not going.” Hisirdoux said.

“You’re in no fit state to argue.” Merlin said, grabbing him around the waist. “Nari, we’re leaving.”

Maybe throwing himself off the the flying ship was a touch dramatic but Douxie thought it got the message across. They hadn’t even taken off, so it wasn’t like he fell far.

“Hisirdoux!” Merlin yelled. “What were you thinking?”

“That you’d listen?” Douxie replied. “I told you, I’m not going.” He sat up on soft dirt. “I’m not abandoning them.” Merlin looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

“Hisirdoux, we are leaving.” He said in frustration, helping him to his feet.

“I’m going to help Jim!” Douxie shot back.

“You are not!”

“I am!”

“I’m not letting you!”

“You can’t stop me!”

“I’m not losing you again!” Merlin practically screamed. Douxie took a step back. Merlin looked down, sighing and taking a step towards him. “Please Hisirdoux, I can’t lose you.” The hands on his shoulders felt heavy but warm. Douxie looked into the cool blue of his mentors eyes and saw something he never saw. Fear. Merlin was never afraid. Merlin never said please (or he did, but sarcastically) to him. And something ached in Douxie’s heart. Something told him to stay, run away with Merlin and everything would be fine.

“They need me.” Douxie said sadly, pulling away. “I know we need to protect Nari but I need to protect them.” He started to leave, watching as Merlin outstretched his hand with an open mouth.

Getting back to HexTech from where they’d parked the ship took a while, especially at his sedate pace. Archie walked next to him nervously.

“Are you sure you want to do this Douxie? You’re awfully exhausted.” Archie prodded. Douxie huffed as he turned the corner to see ice everywhere. “Oh dear.” Douxie clenched his fists.

“The Arcane Order.” He snarled. “At least they didn’t get Nari.” He hurried into HexTech to find Krel. After waking the young Akiridian up and finding out exactly what happened Douxie tried to think of a plan. His head was pounding and his breathing was getting more erratic. He leaned heavily against the customer service counter trying to think of anything that could help.

“They’re going to offer a deal.” Krel said. “Nari and the Genesis Seals for our friends.”

“They can’t have them.” Douxie said. “What we need is a way to trap them...” His eyes lit up as a plan formulated in his mind. “We need to get to the fallen bit of Camelot. With a shard of the Heart of Avalon we can create a time loop. And then trick them into taking it.” Krel’s eyes widened.

“Lively.” He said. “But how are we going to trick them?”

“Maybe a fake Genesis Seal.” Archie suggested. “A simple illusion spell might work if it’s only for a short while.”

“Good idea Arch.” Douxie said, attempting to stand up. He nearly keeled over, Krel catching him last minute. “Blast it, I don’t think I’m up to much more than standing right now.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I came back.” Merlin said from the doorway. Douxie’s eyes widened. “Now what reckless plan have you thought up?”

“You’re here?” Douxie asked in surprise. “I thought protecting Nari was the most important thing right now?”

“It is. But someone recently reminded me that all life is precious.” Merlin said with a smile. “And that we should do what is right, not what is easy.” Douxie had never felt so relieved in all his life. He stumbled towards Merlin, toppling into his arms for a big hug. Merlin tensed but wrapped his arms around him after a moment.

“Thank you.” Douxie said quietly. Merlin patted his head.

“Now this plan?”

The plan worked, sort of. At least, Bellroc and Skrael were fooled by the illusion of the Genesis Seals long enough for Douxie to pull an old shell game scam on them. They jumped in after the fake in seconds. Douxie was winded but managed to walk a little to where the ship picked him up. Nari stood on board, having stubbornly refused to stay behind. Douxie thought it was ironic that Merlin had possibly managed to find the most stubborn people on the planet to take into his care. Krel was steering as Merlin readied himself to fight Arthur once again. They reached the Arcane Order ship and boarded as quietly as they could. Reaching the room filled with ice was easy enough but both Jim and Arthur stood guard.

“Back for more death.” Arthur jeered. Douxie grimaced at what had become of the king. Archie breathed, freeing Aaargh to fight Jim while Merlin tried to keep Arthur occupied. Every swing of the cursed form of Excalibur at his mentor reminded Douxie that this wasn’t the Arthur he’d known. This was the Green Knight. Someone no longer caring. Something no longer human. Douxie set about freeing the others.

“You came.” Claire said, hugging him. “I knew you would.” Douxie smiled before turning to Steve and freeing him.

“Any plans on Jim?” He asked as the floor shook from Aaargh hitting Jim.

“My shadow magic might be able to get through to him. Overpower the other magic controlling him.” Claire said.

“Then let’s get him down on the ground.” Toby said, swinging his hammer. “You’ll have more room to pull out some moves.”

“We all will.” Claire agreed.

“Krel is on the ship.” Douxie said. Toby and Aaargh managed to connect a blow to Jim’s head at the same time and he was out. “Go straight down, take a right, then straight again.” Douxie winced, still feeling drained of energy. “We’ll be right behind you.” The others took off, leaving Morgana, Merlin and Douxie to face off against the Green Knight.

Something was wrong with his apprentice. Merlin could tell from the wincing and the stumbling. He knew Hisirdoux. He had large enough magic reserves, not to mention he seemed to build it back up again quickly enough. But right now it looked like he couldn’t levitate a twig. If Merlin had noticed, well it wouldn’t be long until Arthur did. Archie seemed to be trying to tug the boy away, but he was moving stiffly. Merlin saw Arthur move towards Hisirdoux before he did. It was almost like watching in slow motion. And Arthur would have killed him. Killed the closest thing he’d ever had to a child. If Morgana hadn’t thrown half the ceiling at him. Merlin was by Hisirdoux’s side in seconds.

“I’m sorry.” Hisirdoux said. “I’m still not feeling right.” Merlin put a hand on his shoulder.

“Morgana!” He called. The sorceress looked over at him. “I’m leaving Arthur to you.” Something flickered across her face. Relief? Trust? Understanding? It didn’t matter. One minute she was throwing shards at Arthur the next; she’d shoved them both out the window yelling about gravity. Merlin doubted it would kill them. He pulled Hisirdoux’s arm over his shoulder and started to help the boy walk. Something sizzled in the air.

“Look out!” Hisirdoux yelled, yanking them both down behind a pillar. The fireball seared past them leaving a smouldering crater in the wall.

“You little brat.” Bellroc snapped. “Trapping us like that.”

“Weren’t you just an errand boy?” Skrael asked with icy humour. “A little thing relying on more powerful wizards?” They were trying to get a rise out of Hisirdoux. And maybe it would have, if the boy had the energy to move half an inch.

“Wait here and don’t.”

“But master.”

“But master me.” Merlin said with a smile. “Archie keep him here.”

“Oh I will.” Archie said with a frown. No doubt something to do with Hisirdoux not telling him how rough he really felt. Merlin stood up.

“Merlin?!” The Arcane Order hissed in twin surprise.

“Still alive.” Bellroc snarled. They asked several fireballs at him but he dodged each one. The duel was fast paced and violent. Merlin managed to keep it diverted from Hisirdoux, hoping to give the boy enough time to gather his strength and run. But Bellroc and Skrael knew he was nearby and were trying to catch him defending somewhere. Merlin just prayed that Hisirdoux could at least defend himself. The battle raged. Blow for blow. Fire. Ice. Rage and violence. Screaming, howling, hateful. Never ending.

Time slowed. Merlin could not take them on alone. He was still healing from his own brush with death. Although he seemed to be doing better than Hisirdoux. The looming face of death came once more. And again Merlin was ready. Because he wasn’t just being stabbed by Arthur this time. No. He was defending his apprentice. Giving those children time to escape. Time to save their friend, even if he did not see how they could. He was slowing the Order down. And all those things were something worth dying for. He was ready. He just had to make Hisirdoux leave.

“Tenebris exilium!” Merlin yelled, taking them both on at once. “Hisirdoux. Get out of here. Protect Nari. GO!” He prayed that his apprentice would just listen for once. He needed him safe. Needed him to live. Run, Merlin begged, please run.

“Tenebris exilium!” Hisirdoux yelled, standing next to him. Archie in his dragon form, adding his own bit of power. “Not without you. Sorry Dad, but I’m disobeying you one last time.” Merlin stared at Hisirdoux. He’d just called him... why couldn’t his boy be selfish just for once? They were powerful together. But weakened by the previous battle, while Skrael and Bellroc were fit and healthy. The ship shook from the sheer might of the combined magics. Thunder howled and lightning split the skies. Blue ringed Hisirdoux’s eyes as he was sure green did his. The blasts were too powerful and Merlin felt himself being thrown. He closed his eyes as they once again tumbled through the sky.

#fanfiction #submissions #asks #toa #toa wizards #tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia wizards #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa merlin #toa morgana #toa archie #krel tarron #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #blinky #aaargh #Nari #skrael #bellroc #merlin lives au #toa green knight #toa king arthur #honestly this took ages to write #cos i loved the dragon episode #and i really wanted to shoehorn charlie in #but it didnt happen #so we get this instead #lowkey a cliffhanger #oops

[alltingfinns]

Part 2

John crestfallen at what looks like another sign of Sherlock not caring. Except Sherlock obviously sees it differently, time is of the essence and this is probably not the first kidnapping case he’s seen.

He looked through the fairy tale book probably because it was noticably out of place.

“Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment”. So close to Jim’s method.

Oh God. Sherlock telling the John mirror that they’re better off avoiding relationships since at least one attempt involved a master criminal. At this point John is avoiding relationships but will soon enough meet “Mary”. Also worried about his interest in Sherlock who has the air of menace drawn thickly around him.

Did that sentence even make sense?

The modern equivalence to ACD Sherlock knowing the origin of soil samples.

“Thank you John” “Actually I’m just his mirror”

Keeping a sharp eye on John so the mistake seems more psychological than visual.

He looks upset when she says she doesn’t count. Just because he doesn’t like her romantically it doesn’t mean he doesn’t value her as a friend. He’s just really bad at valuing his friends. But also she might be so long gone on him that his lack of reciprocation is seen as an all out rejection.

Oh God the quick shots of the kids eating the poisoned chocolate. That’s my fill of horror for the holiday.

“Not be myself.”

Collar goes down.

I wonder how Jim faked a Sherlock to traumatize the girl.

We know Anderson’s theory on that from TEH, latex perfection.

Sherlock being subjected to the “they’ll think you’re crazy or lying if you say anything” quick show of “I O U”. Also known as the dancing frog effect.

Sally fishing for a reaction because she needs a bit more than a hunch and a screaming child to go on. But keeping it subtle enough that you have to be Sherlock Holmes to fully pick up on it and deduce what she might be thinking.

John being snubbed but it’s like other times. Sherlock is going into danger and needs to keep John out of the firing line. Not the first or last time he pulls this stunt.

Next on fairy tales with Richard Brook: The Story of Sherlock and His Very Bad and Downright Awful Evening.

Wonder if being found with a dead body is going to compound his situation? I mean, obviously he didn’t have a gun and the guy was shot from a distance, but at this point it’s the rumors that matter not the facts.

Been a while since I saw TPLoSH, but wasn’t that the one where dust was part of his filing system?

“Can’t kill an idea”

The breaking point. The wrong conclusion I wrote in the last post. Here it is.

He thinks what would upset John is being duped by Sherlock into liking/praising/admiring him.

I want to write a bigger thing about it, although I can’t imagine that the subject has gone unexplored in the fandom.

Sherlock is the one doubting in this scene. Doubting that John sees him for more than the Persona.

Remove the Persona, and John’s affection goes with it.

But John isn’t just there for the clever man in The Hat. Coat collar up or down, he cares for Sherlock.

The doubt will unfortunately not die here, or The Hat wouldn’t have such a pronounced presence in future episodes.

Are English gingerbread men always that thick? Then again it’s possible we just generally bake them thinner in Sweden, judging from a couple of German cookie cutters I have that doesn’t quite work on the level of thin we usually bake.

John standing up for him throughout this scene while Sherlock just quietly accepts it.

Am I even going to make it to the rooftop?

Both John and Sherlock get such good smash cut scenes in this episode.

“A good friend bails you out of jail, a best friend sits next to you and say ‘We fucked up.’”

The way Lestrade underreacts to the situation is amazing.

Once again on Gun Safety with Sherlock Holmes.

Lestrade’s face in his hands. Sherlock’s very tired dad/babysitter.

“Now people will definitely talk”

Priorities, John!

They’re going to need to coordinate. Good thing that they at least can do that in life or death situations, because they’re terrible with it otherwise.

“A lie that is preferable to the truth.” Also known as every straight Sherlock reading, because people can’t deal with their hero being gay.

Interesting that the guy got shot just as Sherlock lowered his gun. As in after he got the information. He wasn’t shot by one of the others. This is the work of Moriarty’s shooter.

I thought from the look on Sherlock’s face when John mentioned Brook that he had an idea who it was. But apparently not.

So the money was good enough that he’d risk jail time but still not enough that he wouldn’t risk the wrath of his ex-employer, the master criminal, for what she could get him? Sherlock was right on the money in his analysis of her. Not smart or trustworthy, just hungry.

Oh her look of pity to John. Like he’s the one that was duped.

A folder with printouts. That’s her big cache of evidence?

For Christ’s sake, her character in The IT Club is smarter than this!

And to top off her character she does a pathetic repeat of Sherlock’s insult to her and then John brushes her aside.

Wrap up a lie in the truth. There are way too many good lines in this episode.

“If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, that I think I am, would you still help me?”

So close to the actual question he has for John but will never ask.

Mycroft doesn’t actually believe in the key code nonsense, does he? Both Holmes brothers can’t be this blind on matters of cyber security.

This scene was at the end of THoB, which doesn’t have to mean anything timewise, granted. But I sincerely doubt a hypothetical key code was of concern.

Are there any updated versions of M theory around? I think I saw some new idea about Mycroft being in charge rather than Moriarty, but I still get the impression that these scenes happened even if no key code was involved. So why did he really have Moriarty slapped around?

“Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, and you have given him the perfect ammunition.”

Wasn’t there a theory that Mycroft manipulated John into Sherlock’s path because he thought the doctor could save his brother?

Jim used the code to change his identity in the records. You seriously think Kitty checked the records, rather than taking him at his word and printouts?

Even then, Jim has worked with someone who knows what the record keepers like. No need for a magical key code.

Ah yes, about ten characters of binary. The ultimate key code!

“No. Friends protect people.”

People is John.

I personally love coming up with names with hidden meanings, so that’s probably what I would have picked too.

On the one hand he brought back the scary SUDDEN SHOUT he terrified me with in TGG, but on the other hand he used it to say “doofus”.

“Ordinary Sherlock”. This scene must have been fun to act.

Mrs Hudson assuming that John’s back because Sherlock did something clever and made it alright.

“Police! ...sorta”

Sherlock has already set Lazarus in motion, but the possibility of not having to leave John if he can get to Jim has to be explored.

Faked suicide like the bride. I don’t blame Sherlock for not seeing it. He’s running on no sleep, more adrenaline than blood in his veins and someone just seemingly shot himself in front of him. Not to mention the overall pressure he’s under.

The little laugh when he can’t make John doubt him.

Everything’s blurry.

“I researched you”. Subtle slam at Elementary?

Oh God their hands reaching.

“He’s my friend” with his voice breaking

“Say it now.” “I can’t.”

Mrs Hudson outangering John is the levity needed now.

“Stop this.”

Things are blurry again.

Risked being seen just to see John one last time and hear his words.

And I need to wash my face.

I also remembered that Sherlock talked of a lookalike in TEH, but I’m keeping my musing on Sherlock faking for transparency. Also I’m too lazy to go back and edit.

#rebecka’s sherlock rewatch #sherlock #johnlock #tjlc #sherlock meta #save john watson #m theory #the Holmes brothers need to learn a bit about databases and programming