jim owns

You heard Jim laughing downstairs and you were curious. 

JM: [Y/N]!  [Y/N]! You won’t believe this! Come here!

[Y/N]: What.

JM: Look at this. I just found these so called “fan fictions” on the internet and printed them out. They are apparently “shipping” me with Sebastian, Sherlock, and Molly. Why haven’t I discovered these sooner?


That time when Jim Moriarty broke into 221b…. and filmed it

(Bonus: at one point he goddamn purrs his words..)

Jim Hates Strickler (for reasons he wouldn’t have expected)

My headcanon for Strickler and Jim began as a pretty obscure, but rational thing. Jim hates Walt Strickler. Walt Strickler did his very best to ruin his life. The life of his own mother temporarily put into the hands (and heart) of the changeling was near ended because of love that Jim had convinced himself was impossible.

Jim has a plethora of reasons to hate Walt Strickler.

And yet, above all else, he hates him because he gives what Jim couldn’t have.

Strickler marries Barbara. Their wedding is a small one on the steps of the courthouse. She dresses in a white slip of a dress with her uniform tucked into the bottom of her purse -her shift would begin a few hours after- and he’d managed to dig up a proper suit from the back of his (hers) (their) closet. The wedding would be quick, Jim would be a silent witness, and things for Jim’s mother would be good.

So, so good.

Laughter at the breakfast nook, settled in one another’s arms, tea before them and the paper shared.

Dinner would be ready by the time Jim got home, exhausted. Calling out, “mom, I’m going to make dinner I’m so sorry it’s late-” before he’s greeted with the nonchalance of his former history teacher pushing a plate into his hands. Of his mother telling him not to worry about it.

Of his mother falling asleep over her patient files, and Strickler swooping in before he can to take off her glasses and rouse her enough to trip her way up the stairs.

Jim watches as he becomes…


And then the baby arrives. And Jim prepares to hate Strickler for bringing a half changeling into the world. Prepares himself to hate Strickler for trying to go about his revenge in the form of a babbling little girl with his mother’s hair and Strickler’s (not his father, not ever his father) eyes.

And Jim is prepared to hate Strickler for being what Jim expects.

Strickler is not what Jim expects.

He’s there every moment- sharing the exhausting and taxing work as a parent with the babe’s mother as often and as much as he can. Jim finds that his own sleep schedule can finally be rectified once Strickler’s becomes scarcer, taking care of a mewling babe. That Strickler is so annoyingly present. That he’s there to feed, to change, to play, to coddle.

That weekends are spent taking the child to museums and to concerts in the park. The picnic blanket that had stayed in their attic for so long, untouched since Jim had been four years old, now has fresh grass stains and the smell of bread pudding cloying to it.

That Strickler still turns round before he and the babe are out the door to ask in that awful and concerned voice- “you’re sure you don’t want to join, Jim?” And Jim grinds his teeth and responds with something cordial, but a denial all the same. “Very well.” Strickler will kiss the new child’s fat cheeks. “Are you ready to see the fish!” It was an aquarium visit that day while Barbara pulled her third double shift of the week.

Jim hates Strickler for all the wrong reasons.

What started out as a festering hate for his invasion of Jim and his mother’s life (they were fine, they were always going to be fine) had turned into something else.

Jim never got a father.

So why does this child get a better one than he did.

cue amazing and adorably villainous father/son bonding time. Jim needs to get over himself and Strickler needs to woman up and be a dad.

For Now, Forever, For Always

Pairing: Jim x Reader

Word Count: 1646

Warnings: A little angst. Mostly fun banter and fluff

A/N: To the anon who requested the Bones angst and the anon that requested a sequel to Seeing Double, I promise I’m working on both of those!!! I haven’t forgotten about you guys and they’ll both be coming up soon. Also look who made a fancy header image for this fic instead of doing homework B) 

If there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your ability to give the perfect gift, moving people to tears with your thoughtfulness on more than one occasion. Even Spock got misty-eyed when you gave him a handmade terrarium replica of Old Vulcan with his mother’s initials engraved on the bottom. The one person you could never figure out, though, was James Tiberius Kirk.

You thought he’d be the easiest, settling for an antique remote-controlled motorcycle he could drive around the bridge. You were almost shaking with excitement when you gave it to him for Christmas but two years had passed and it had yet to leave the shelf in his quarters. You switched up your game for his birthday, opting for a classier holoframe that displayed pictures you’d collected over your time on the Enterprise. His eyes lit up when you gave it to him, but three months later when he finally invited you to his quarters for dinner for the first time, you noticed the batteries had died and he hadn’t replaced them.

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