oh so this is jim the fish


I’m doing a part 2 to this imagine because the request was kind of long. Sorry it’s taken so long!

Requested by Anon #222

Jim: Y/N, did you get the reports I asked for on Mooney?
Y/N: Yeah I did, are you sure you want to go after her? She’s a powerful woman.
Jim: She needs to be told she can’t do whatever she wants.
Y/N: You’re funeral Jim. *hands him the report*
Ed: *walks over* Hello Y/N.
Y/N: Oh hi Ed.
Jim: I assume you have something for me?
Ed: Yes Jim. I found something on the body that indicates when the next meeting is with Fish Mooney.
Jim: Great! When is it?
Ed: What is it that no man…
Harvey: *walks over* Enough with the riddles Nygma.
Y/N: Harvey! I like Ed’s riddles and I really want to guess this one.
Harvey: Seriously?
Ed; Seriously?
Y/N: Yes, Ed please continue.
Ed: Al..alright Y/N. *clears his throat* What is it that no man ever yet did see, which never was, but always is to be?
Y/N: Oh easy! Tomorrow. The meeting is tomorrow!
Ed: Well done Y/N.
Y/N: I have one for you now Ed. What did the paper clip say to the magnet?
Ed: *blushes* That’s the oldest one in the book.
Y/N: Well it’s true. Anyways my shift has ended so see you tomorrow boys. *walks away*
Harvey: What was the answer?
Ed: The answer was, I find you very attractive. *smiles and walks away*
Harvey: Ew.
Jim: We need to get them together.

Part 2

The Muppets attend Jim Henson’s funeral

and there is not a vacant seat in the room.

Everyone arrives on time,
dressed in the appropriate garb - for once.
Even Lew’s fish are painted mournful black.

The bear gives the opening eulogy.
No one knew he was capable
of such a straight face - not a bad joke in sight, and

the hecklers lay down their heckles,
the dynamite goes unexploded,
the pig does not steal the show.

Muppet after Muppet takes the podium,
each speaking of the gravitas of beards,
the contained insanity
that birthed them oh so beautifully.

The dog does not attend.
This goes unnoticed for years.

The Mayhem play a sober set,
solemn and respect,
only a single cymbal is devoured by the drummer.

The room fills with butterflies
as the chief - at long last - takes the stage.

There is a frog in the frog’s throat
as he sees the number of held paws,
fur soaked from tears,
eyes asking, “What now?”

He stands uncertain,
usually so comfortable in the spotlight,
and opens his mouth for the first time in months.

A voice erupts, not the same
but just as sweet, just as familiar,
just as much begging a sense of home,

saying: “We go on.

anonymous asked:

3 Word Prompt: Jim, Castle, Fishing



He was nervous. 

Jim understood that, and in fact, maybe he wanted it that way. Maybe the man of twenty-something bestsellers who had somehow convinced his stubborn daughter to take a chance on happiness deserved to be nervous for once. 

Jim simply tied the lure on his hook that much more slowly, letting the silence of the lake and the four a.m. wake-up call do the work for him.

And truly, he forgot.

Jim forgot Rick Castle was sitting hunched in the boat with him looking a little miserable and maybe also a little green. He forgot the coffee was black as he liked it and that Rick hadn’t touched the thermos after that first sip (he’d be driven back to it when the caffeine headache kicked in). Jim even forgot that the lures had gotten trickier to tie now that he was another year older.

He let himself sink into the cool lake morning, the rock of rippling water against the hull of the boat, and his own slow breathing.

He watched his balsa wood float bob in the water before settling again. No tugs on the line yet, but that was fine. He had all day if need be, and the wide-brimmed floppy hat to keep the rising sun off his face. His nose was a little pink and tender from yesterday.

“Uh, sir?”

Jim startled so hard the boat rocked and the fish scared off, for sure, but there was his almost son-in-law sitting like a too-big boy in the prow of the boat.

“What is it, son?”

Rick blinked, hands folded around his fishing rod. “Uh, I don’t know how to do this thing.”

Jim’s gaze traveled down to the pole propped between the man’s feet. “You’re doing just fine. Might want to not hold it like that around the reel, should you get a bite and it get to-”

“Oh, shit,” Rick breathed, practically jumping as he rearranged his hands.

It was funny. It held some unsubtle symbology, a rod between his legs, gripping it too tight, lessons on how to hold it, but Jim wouldn’t bring that up now. Later, maybe, when they were more like family and less like the guy having sex with Jim’s daughter.

Give it two or five years and it would be a funny story. 

“What about this?” Rick said, his gaze intent and guileless despite everything.

Jim had to give it to him; the man wanted to do it right. Not for himself, of course, because what could a millionaire bestseller with a family of his own possibly need from Jim Beckett? 

For Katie. He was trying to do it right for Kate’s sake, who wanted them to get along.

“That’s good, just like that,” Jim answered quietly. “And now we sit here and we wait. That’s all. No talking, no awkward questions with even more awkward answers. No trying to prove something or needing to be defensive. You understand, Rick?”

The man blew out a breath and bobbed his head, entirely silent.

Good. Then he got it.

“We’ll have a couple fish, maybe a funny story when you try to land one, and Kate thinks the best of both of us.”

Rick’s shoulders went down with a tangible relief. “Yes, sir.”

Jim nodded.

And then he got back to the fishing.


Gothamites' Ideal First Date With You.

REQUEST: Preference: (with Jerome and others pls) where they would take you on your first date

Jerome: He would drag you along with him to terrorize the city, committing crime and murder and stuff. But then you wouldn’t find it relaxing or calm or anything as a first date (maybe to Jerome but probably not you) so others would help him set up a date to the circus or a candle lit dinner either in Theo’s mansion.

Originally posted by zakuroblog

Jim: The circus, a movie or a dinner date at a fancy restaurant. Jim is such a busy guy that he would be kinda stressed on where to take you out. He doesn’t want to let you down.

Originally posted by gothamfox

Harvey: A dinner date, if not: the bar/pub or Fish Mooney’s club. I imagine him taking you home to his or your place to have some time alone.

Originally posted by photoshopahistory

Barbara: Oh, lovely, Stabby Babs. She would rather stay home with you and eat take out and watch a movie. Later on, a steamy make out session.

Originally posted by itberice

Oswald: He would cook you dinner at his mansion. I don’t think Oswald would go too overboard and take you somewhere. He’d rather show off his cooking skills.

Originally posted by kvintessenciya

Edward: He would be so, so awkward but it would be worth it. He would take you to a science centre or a museum where history, science and math takes all forms.

Originally posted by gothamfox

River’s big confession on the “Harmony and Redemption.”

(This has been rattling around in my brain since Friday, and while I haven’t really found the words to express the pinball machine of my brain and heart, I wanted to spit it out before it devolved further or slipped away entirely.)

To start,there are two ways River Song could’ve used the diary the Eleventh Doctor gave her. The first: cold, practical, simple accounts that divulge just enough information to keep their timelines straight whenever the two of them cross paths and avoid spoilers. The practical path a scientist or archaeologist or historian may take when documenting events. However, the diary of River Song is not a collection of facts compiled by an archaeologist, but rather detailed accounts of their adventures and her love for the Doctor that a woman turns to when alone and reads them like fairy tales to keep her company. It’s a collection of her vulnerabilities compartmentalized, contained, and physically separated from her body.

The diary is old, battered, loved… And of the utmost importance to River not only because of spoilers or because it is a potentially dangerous exposure of the Doctor, but because it is a physical manifestation of her vulnerabilities. Of her love. The diary is her soft underbelly; the vulnerable side she keeps well-hidden. Just look at her reaction when her Diary is snatched away: her impulse is to physically tackle Flemming overrides her ever-present logic telling her to stay level-headed.

And what does Flemming do? Grabs that reaction and runs with it. He reads the subjects of several diary entries aloud so every criminal and murderer – people River would want to keep a certain front with – in the room can hear, gleefully mocking her entries: 

“The Pandorica Opens. Woo, that sounds exciting! And goodness me,a picnic as Asgard – some people really know how to snack, don’t they? … The crash of the Byzantium. Didn’t they make a movie of that? [laughing] Oh, Jim the Fish! [laughs, then more seriously] Well we all know Jim the Fish. … And you’ve just been to Manhattan. What planet is that?”

All of this is interspersed with River growling threats at Flemming, explaining the longer he goes on the longer it will take her to kill him, and the more she will revel in the act. He’s taking some of the most important, cherished moments in her life (or in the case of Jim the Fish, he lets her know all of this is completely ordinary and foolish to cherish) and using them to humiliate her in front of a crowd as he holds her prisoner, but all it does is fuel her rage. That is until her cracks begin to show…

Kingston’s eyes soften as River discovers Nardole’s fate. She’s sad over that loss even as Nardole confirms that she is a “known consort of the Doctor,” making her position with her captors more precarious. Seeing this moment of softness, Flemming knows he hasn’t quite hit the button yet but it confirms he’s making progress. River continues to simmer as Flemming keeps questioning her – she even becomes her typical, flippant self when she says she doesn’t know where the Doctor is. But then Flemming finds a nerve with “You’re the woman he loves.” 

She denies it, of course. (You can see Kingston trying to put up River’s defenses.)

He calls her a liar. It becomes a slowly-escalating argument to prove which of them is correct.

Flemming: “My information is correct! You are the woman who loves the Doctor.”

River: “Yes I am, I’ve never denied it. But whoever said he loved me back? He’s the Doctor, he doesn’t go around falling in love with people. And if you think he’s anything that small or that ordinary, then you haven’t the first idea of what you’re dealing with.”

It continues…

Flemming: “I assure you, this she is the perfect bait. When this woman is in danger, the Doctor will always come.”

(and this is where she really starts to crack…)

River: “Oh you are a moron, no he won’t! … God knows where he is right now, but I promise you he’s doing whatever the hell he wants and not giving a damn about me! And I’m just fine with that! When you love the Doctor, it’s like loving the stars themselves; you don’t expect a sunset to admire you back! And if I happen to find myself in danger, let me tell you: the Doctor is not stupid enough or sentimental enough, and he is certainly not in love enough to find himself standing in it with me.”

Here we really get to see what Steven Moffat meant when he said “I can write it as badass as I like, knowing that Alex will add heart.” (DWM, issue 494) Her entire monologue here could easily be played as bitter and angry; all teeth no tenderness. But it’s not. It’s meant to sound both on the page and to the ears on that ship like she doesn’t care about the Doctor, she doesn’t need him and she certainly cannot be used as bait because the Doctor isn’t so stupid or ordinary as to fall into that sort of trap, not with her anyway

Of course, that’s not 100% the way it goes with Kingston’s performance. She takes the words and uses them to reveal what River thinks about herself: small, ordinary, stupid, sentimental… Because River did fall in love, because River does come whenever the Doctor calls, and because her love – her love that she would never expect to have returned because she’s selfless (even if she won’t admit it) and independent and guarded – for the Doctor is her weakness and that weakness is being put on parade. She even tries to reassure herself with “And I’m just fine with that!” but it’s clear she’s not particularly “fine” at all. The words bite and claw and deny and push away, but on screen, between those words, River – Kingston – is scrambling to keep the tears back and hold up her defenses even as her voice threatens to falter. It’s both badass and tender.

And Flemming has succeeded, in a way, by exploiting her weakness before a crowd of known criminals and murderers. But River being River – and because it’s Moffat who sketches her out but Kingston who breathes life into her – throws his attack back in his face and tells him that what he sees as foolishness in her diary isn’t anything she didn’t already know about herself. 

So yes, the speech with all of the sunsets and the stars is about doubt and insecurity and unconditional love, but it’s also the much deeper confession that she is a vulnerable, sentimental idiot who would absolutely find herself “standing in it” with him. It’s an incredibly complex scene that can be interpreted in a number of ways because all of us have life experiences, of course. And I think it’s a scene is vastly important to understanding River and her constantly shifting relationship with the Doctor. But find it’s especially important when it comes to understanding not only what River keeps behind her bravado and bravery and ruthlessness, but how River sees herself. 

(Not that these things are always weaknesses, but… In the context of River and her life…)

Season 2 finale summary
  • Harvey: glad you're back jimboroonie what happened anyways
  • Jim 2.0: hOLY FUCK shit hARVey it was balling there hot DAMN
  • Harvey: ... ok jim
  • ...
  • Ed: hello naughty children let's play a game
  • Bruce: ???????
  • Lucius: Nani the fuck???
  • Ed: Incorrect *gases both of them*
  • ...
  • Hugo: ha you're a guilty man
  • Jim: wtf is with this camera focussing am I have a stroke???? oh yeah it was all my fault I suck
  • Hugo: damn straight boi
  • ...
  • Fish: I wanna go
  • Ms. P: no
  • Fish: pls????
  • Ms. P: no just lemme stick this needle in your arm
  • Fish: *touches Ms. P* Nah we cool remember?
  • Ms. P: oh yeah
  • Hugo: oh fuck
  • Owl Lady: um Hugo wtf??
  • ...
  • Frieze: I'm having catsicles tonight
  • Selina: oh shit
  • Firefly: it's ok I got u
  • Hugo: NO I TOLD YOU NOT TO CROSS THE BEAMS- *gets shot x2*
  • ...
  • Jim: Hey Lucius u know how to deactivate a bomb
  • Lucius: no
  • Jim: fuck
  • Ms. P: *wakes up* please im so thirsty,, water please
  • Jim: *deactivates bomb with water*
  • Ms. P: water...?
  • Jim: shut up we're celebrating
  • ...
  • Fish: *crashes bus*
  • Ozzy: hugo~ theo got an umbrella down his throat, but guess where your's is going!
  • Fish: surprise bitch
  • Ozzy: HOLY TITS- *faints*
  • Butch: shit fam we gotta skidaddle
  • ...
  • Harvey: hey jim ur alive yay
  • Jim: love you too dude btw I'm taking your car
  • Harvey: shit I was so wor- WAIT NO. JIM
  • ...
  • Bruce clone: Are you ready for Not Brucey?

queeriarty  asked:

Also I'd really love to see your take on Richard and Jim, if you're up for it. Maybe Seb's reaction to finding out Jim has an actor twin he keeps tucked away somewhere?

Richard fell to his knees and peeked underneath the sofa. Keys, keys… He’d had them when he’d come in earlier, right? So they should be here somewhere

He stood up again and patted his pockets for what felt like the hundredth time. Nope. Just his phone and his wallet, but no keys.

He chewed his lip and looked around the flat. He was already late, he’d miss his bus, but he couldn’t just leave the flat open, Jim would kill him if, when he’d find out, safety first and all that rubbish…

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torchwood1701  asked:


[A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?]

Jim’s entire body ached.

He could barely see at this point—not that there was much to see anyway, just a long, dark, blue-gray expanse of deep water, unforgiving and ominous, with no end in sight.

Jim closed his eyes, tried to steady his ragged breathing, tried to focus on anything besides the burning in his back and his wings as they flapped frantically, but he wasn’t sure how long he could continue to fly like this, over the ocean, without the thermals that so often lifted him to the sky.  He wasn’t built like this, for continuous flapping, but as of now he had no choice.

It had been this, or risk being strung up by the crew of the ship on which he had stowed away.

He had hoped to avoid the side-eyes that tended to be reserved for his kind—if he could have even found passage for someone with wings in the first place, given how superstitious sailors were—but that had backfired, and now…

Now he was stranded out in the middle of the ocean, who knew how many days away from land, and drowning was looking like a very real possibility.

He opened his eyes.  The ocean was closer now, looming and ominous, the spray now starting to fleck his face and soak his wings.  He was half-certain that he was about to fall to pieces—

And then something seemed to snap, a will and determination that could no longer simply power through the pain.  He tried, he did, but they gave one last attempt at a flap, and then—

He was plummeting, the ocean flying towards him until it crashed into his face, the pain from the impact driving the breath from his lungs.

That was very bad.  He needed that.

He struggled feebly, but the water had soaked his feathers.  His head broke the surface for a moment, and he managed to gasp in a breath of air, but the weight of his wings dragged him under again.

Jim struggled, trying to get back to the surface, but he could barely move, let alone haul his entire body back up.  He could see the bubbles escaping his mouth, floating to the surface where he could still see a blurry outline of the sun…

And then a shadow passed in front of it, and everything went dark.

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