#assured home inspectors

[assuredhome]

Water-quality testing. Keep your drinking water safe.

Make sure your family's water is safe and clean. Schedule an add-on water-quality insepction to test for bacteria, dissolved solids, nitrate/nitrite – and more.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

It is in the Details

He had always been meticulous, even as a child. It was his brother who taught him to observe and to keep an eye out for tiny details. 

“The more subtle, the more elegant people will find you. Whether it is your attire or your movements. That way, they will not question your ulterior motives,” Mycroft told him.

Sherlock considered this, and when Mycroft bought him the Belstaff and had added the red buttonhole, he understood. It added an eye-catching sophistication to the garment. The fact that it was one of a kind, made it even more special.

Before he attended his first official crime scene, Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, used a fair amount of his inheritance on expensive hair products, had a bespoke cologne made, purchased Italian leather shoes, and spent an agonising hour at one of Savile Row’s tailors to have his measurements taken.

“Only blue and black suits. A dozen white shirts. Two of the aubergine ones over there. Two of that shade of blue. No ties.”

The tailor didn’t even bat an eyelid when Sherlock made his order and insisted that everything should be tightly fitted.

“I need to breathe, but that’s about it.”

“Of course,” the tailor replied.

***

“Who are you, and what have you done with that high as a kite kid who turned up and solved a crime for me last year?” Greg Lestrade asked when Sherlock strode towards him.

“Gone. I’m clean as of last month. Just what you commanded, detective inspector,” Sherlock drawled. “Now, where are the bodies?”

Sally Donovan and Philip Anderson weren’t as easily dazzled by his newly invented persona, but Sherlock saw them as irrelevant, so he didn't care about being offended by their snarky comments.

***

“Just look at you,” Mrs Hudson cooed when Sherlock knocked on her door.

Her favourite colour is still purple. Recently been to the hairdresser. Didn’t get that cat after all.

“Hello, Mrs Hudson. Lovely to see you again. Are you still renting out the upstairs flat?”

“I take it you are interested,” the elderly woman said and winked. “Don’t you think it’s a bit big for just you. A flatmate would be nice. What do you say?”

“Who would tolerate living with me?” Sherlock answered with a grimace.

“Oh, come now, Sherlock. Deep down you’re as fluffy as a plushie,” she stated.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and went upstairs to take a proper look at 221B.

It was cluttered, but the atmosphere was cosy, even though it hadn’t been inhabited for several months. 

It feels like a proper home, but do I want to share it with another man? I’ve never lived with other people than my family before. None of my peers tolerated me for more than a few minutes at a time. I find it hard to believe that somewhere out in the London streets, a man walks around willing to share this flat with a pompous and infuriating git as myself. It would be nothing short of a miracle if that was the case.

***

“Sherlock, meet an old friend of mine, John Watson,” Mike called out when he walked into the lab.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the fair-haired man. To Sherlock’s astonishment this John Watson offered to let him borrow his phone when Sherlock asked Mike for his, even though he knew it was safely tucked into his coat pocket.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

The awe in the man’s eyes, made Sherlock look away quickly to hide his own confusion. No one had ever gazed at him like that.

“Who said anything about a flatmate?” John asked when he’d gathered himself after Sherlock’s rapid deductions about his career, family, and wound.

“Mike did,” Sherlock explained and put on his coat and scarf with deliberate movements.

Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at my hands and neck, John Watson.

***

“Will you be needing the upstairs bedroom?” Mrs Hudson asked when she followed him and John into 221B the next day.

John blushed but didn’t answer, which was quite promising.

“We’ll let you know,” Sherlock mumbled.

“We have all sort around here,” she assured them before she went down to her own flat.

John placed his cane by the red chair and wandered around to look at all the eccentricities the flat had to offer. The more he walked around, the less he limped, much to Sherlock’s satisfaction.

“Yes, I think this will do just fine,” John said and made himself comfortable in the upholstery chair.

***

“How did you get glitter in your hair?” John asked two days before Christmas later that year.

“I went to Liberty’s to buy some decorations for our tree,” Sherlock said.

“What happened to the Grinch I moved in with in February?”

“He fell in love with an ex-army doctor with a psychosomatic limp,” Sherlock quipped.

“Did he, now,” John murmured and circled his arms around Sherlock’s waist.

Sherlock hummed and bent down to kiss John softly.

“Noticed anything else?” he asked innocently and a bit breathless when they parted.

“I did actually. You’ve been to your tailor,” John said with a broad smile.

“Tell me,” Sherlock purred and sucked John’s bottom lip into his mouth.

“Just spotted some small things. Your shirt isn’t tucked into your trousers in its usually way, one button is only half buttoned, and your left trouser leg has a – “

Sherlock interrupted John’s deductions with a passionate kiss. He looked down into the blue eyes and it felt like he was drowning in a sea of adoration.

“You are a marvel, John Watson,” he whispered.

“Just paying attention to the details that are out of order,” John shrugged, a bit embarrassed by such praise.

“A shame you only catch such details when it comes to me and not at crime scenes.”

John slapped Sherlock’s arse, called him a brat, and went to make tea, while Sherlock decorated the tree.

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[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

Who the hell are you?

Megumi can't shake the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stares down at you. He watches as you quickly compose yourself, pulling your expression into something a little less shocked, a strained smile appearing on your face instead. You can't quite meet his eyes.

You're shaking a little bit, with a windbreaker wrapped around you that's much too big for your frame—the logos and insignia on the coat belong to the police precinct Nanami works at, and he suspects he must have loaned it to you. You're soaked through beneath it, just like Kota was when he showed up earlier, and Megumi wonders how long you were out in the rain looking for him.

"Thank you for taking care of him," you say quietly, your hand still on Kota's back. He watches as your eyes trail across Kota's sleeping face, a glimmer of something distinctly sad behind your eyes. You move to take him from Megumi's arms, and without thinking his grip tightens on the little boy's frame. You look up at him curiously. "I can take him now."

Megumi swallows and nods, handing the child over with a quiet, unnecessary "Careful."

Kota looks completely at peace in your arms, nuzzling his little face into your neck the moment you take hold of him. He doesn't wake at all. Doesn't even stir.

It makes Megumi sad for a moment, that he won't get to say a proper goodbye.

He shakes that sudden, unwarranted thought from his mind as quickly as it appears. But there's something else lingering in the back of his mind, more distantly, that begs for him to pay it attention. To acknowledge it.

You turn your back to Megumi.

"I'll take you two home," Nanami says, nodding down towards you. He's still in his uniform, still on duty as far as Megumi knows, having come from the police station when Yuuji called him. This seems a fairly low-priority task given Nanami's rank as an Inspector with the prefectural police, but given that Yuuji was the one who contacted him it doesn't altogether surprise Megumi that the man took it upon himself to see the job through.

Yuuji fetches Kota's rain jacket from the coat rack, laying it over the sleeping boy's shoulders to keep him dry in the quick walk from the clinic to the police cruiser. Then Megumi watches as he carefully slips his little yellow rain boots back onto his feet. You face him once he's done, bowing as deeply as you can with your son in your arms.

"Thank you so much for all your help, I'm so grateful to you," you say to him, still bowing. You stand, glancing over to Megumi next, though you don't let your eyes linger for long before looking away again. "To both of you."

"He's a really sweet kid," Yuuji assures you. "Don't get too mad at him for taking off like that, he was just trying to do what he thought was right."

You smile a little, looking down at Kota's sleeping face. You brush a tendril of his dark, unruly hair away from his eyes.

"I know," you murmur. "I'm just happy to have him in my arms again."

"You should keep a closer eye on him."

Everyone freezes when Megumi speaks, his tone fairly flat.

You don't meet his eyes. You nod. "Sorry, Fushiguro-san."

"We should go," Nanami says, cutting into the conversation and shooting Megumi a look that makes him feel like a misbehaving child.

You nod towards Nanami, and allow him to lead you out through the sliding front door of the veterinary clinic.

It's still raining outside, though not quite as heavily as it had been earlier in the evening. Yuuji and Megumi stand in the doorway watching as you leave, Yuuji waving one hand up over his head when Nanami casts one last look back before slipping into the driver's seat.

It's only once the car finally pulls away, that feeling of molten lead still churning in the pit of his stomach, that Megumi comes to a realization.

He turns to Yuuji, and his friend looks at him a little bit strangely at the abrupt movement. His brow furrows when he sees the bewildered look on Megumi's face.

"Did you tell her my name?"

[arek-ian]

Knowing that both of Dongsik's parents had dementia when they grew old, mostly due to the amount of grief they had been through, makes me wonder what Dongsik's future will be like.

He will likely end up like his mother when the long-hidden effects of his grief finally surface — the way he keeps staring distantly and blankly, probably imagining his twin sister. He might even ask why she stopped coming home. Juwoon says nothing, which makes Dongsik start to blame himself for not reaching out to her first. Then, Juwoon would take him to visit her on their birthday, maybe. Dongsik then falls silent because, even though he didn't say it, he hates to remember that he forgot she isn't here anymore. But Juwoon knows.

In fact, unintentionally, Dongsik becomes more and more quiet as he grows older. Juwoon realizes their roles have changed. He is the one who keeps talking about unremarkable things or important ones just so the man won't get lost in some other world. He would peel him fruit and wait patiently for him to assure him it’s sweet. And when those cold nights linger, bringing with them some unpleasant silence, they remain cuddled, sharing the same air and letting the silence engulf them thoroughly. Until Dongsik pulls out of his distant thoughts and quietly starts brushing the now-gray hair from Juwoon's forehead, his hand becoming slower bit by bit until he falls asleep.

Juwoon, too, grows old with him. When he sees the first visible wrinkle on his face, his frown deepens — not because he longs to be the young and handsome inspector again, but because he fears he will start to look more like Han Kihwan. However, all of those doubts would fade away with the air once Dongsik traces with his fingers the crow's feet on Juwoon's face or the small faint wrinkles on his hands. The ones that always felt so soft and smooth now feel the same as his own hands. And he then remembers, because Dongsik never forgets this handsome face.

"Juwoon-ah, have you eaten?"

Juwoon remains between his hands, waiting for his smile to reach his eyes as the recognition flickers in them. He is capable of waiting.

"No. We will eat together."

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Dear Magisowo, id like some legal advice if you have any.

I’m a wizard and have recently acquired and renovated my home into a proper wizard tower. However problem is I’ve been getting harrased by the local HOA, them complaining that my tower is an “eyesore” and “disturbing” their neighborhoods image. My tower was built perfectly legally, I’ve got all the proper building permits and followed all local county tower laws. That still isn’t enough for them as they’ve sent countless “inspectors” who’ve found nothing, and have been sending threats of legal action. Is there any way to get them to stop and do their threats actually hold weight?

Good morning!

That sounds like a horrid situation and let us assure you: this so-called Homeowner Association hasn't got a leg to stand on. Of course neighbours are always free to band together for purposes of mutual support - like establishing a feral griffin watch or communal herb garden - but legal rights are only granted in the case a HOA of owners that share communal real estate. As is the case with apartment complexes where one buys an apartment instead of renting it.

If your home is a detached building and you obtained the proper planning permission, your tower construction is perfectly legal. I imagine these people are threatening to report your building to the urban aesthetics commission, but if you have your papers in order the municipality will have ran your plans by them already. Besides, wizard towers are protected under the Occult Habitat Provision, as studies have shown they are a requirement for performing certain types of magic and frequently attract endangered magical species.

We advise passing this information on to the individuals that are bothering you, asking them politely to stop, and if need be warn them that you will treat their actions as intentional harassment if they continue. We will send you an example of how to keep a log to build a harassment case, if worst comes to worst.

We absolutely can not recommend contacting the Wizard Orb Assistance Helpline (WOAH) and inquiring after the latest neighbour-repelling wards that they have on file under Occult Commons. That would be irresponsible from a community building perspective and as such we would under no circumstances advise you do such a thing.

All the best,

~ the MagISoWo Team  

[thepromptswhisperer]

Train Prompts

1. A has taken this train so many times by now that the scenic route has lost (some of) its grandeur. Watching B admire it, however,… (A could do that until the day they die and never get bored of it.)

2. A rests their head on B’s shoulder/lap as they travel home/etc. (They fall asleep right there.)

3. When the train abruptly comes to a stop/takes a turn, A tumbles into B(‘s lap).

4. A usually walks past the musicians performing at the train station. This time, however, they stop and listen.

5. A dreads reaching their destination (– a feeling that only intensifies when they see B taking the same train.)

6. A holds onto the train handle, and B holds onto them.

7. A suffers from motion sickness, and B tries their best to help them. (e.g. by proposing to switch seats with them)

8. A fire/fallen tree/etc. prevents the train from going any further, which leads to A and B getting stranded in the middle of nowhere/etc.

9. A and B reunite/say goodbye to one another at the train station.

10. A intensely studies the train map as they attempt to figure out where to go and how to get there. B, who stands next to them, helps them/is equally lost.

11. A unexpectedly runs into their ex (friend)/etc. on the train – with no possibility to hide from them (or the (unpleasant) conversation that they know will follow).

12. A, a (street) musician, performs at the train station/in a train. The performance goes viral.

13. A realizes too late that they are on the wrong train.

14. A draws something on the window. (e.g. tic-tac-toe, a heart)

15. A has desperately tried to keep some distance between themselves and B. Yet they can’t deny that the feeling of their arms/legs pressed against theirs – as they sit/stand next to each other (in a crowded train) – makes their heart flutter.

16. A and B sit at the train station and make up stories for the people that walk past them. 

17. A and B are alone on the train. A enjoys it, but B is panicking. Isn’t this how horror movies usually start?

18. A and B share a kiss on the train steps/as they lean over the row of chairs separating them.

19. A and B, two strangers who oftentimes take the same train (e.g. to work), have established eye contact a few days back. That day, A is determined to strike up a conversation with them.

20. The incoming train messes up A’s hair. B assures them that they look great.

21. A lends one of their earbuds to B so that they can listen to music/etc. together while traveling home/etc. 

22. A is waiting for their train when the platform fills with people coming from/going to a concert/sports event. (They sing/chant and dance, entertaining/annoying everyone else.)

23. A adores the art decorating the walls of a train station they frequent, and are delighted when they meet the artist.

24. A misses their train (e.g. because they were too caught up in B).

25. A surprises their partner/crush/friend/etc. B, a ticket inspector/train driver/etc., at work.

26. A cannot stand when people listen to loud music on the train (or when it’s so loud one can hear it despite them wearing headphones/etc.). Yet, their anger lessens when they hear what stranger B listens to.

27. A and B (, as well as everyone else on the train,) overhear a stranger’s/a group of strangers’ entertaining/etc. (phone) conversation.

28. Someone steals A’s bag/etc. while they look out of the window/stand at the train station/etc. B attempts to help them and catch the thief.

29. A and B talk to/shout at one another across different platforms as they each wait for their respective train to arrive.

30. A didn’t anticipate the next stop coming up so soon. Therefore, they barely make it out of the train in time/sit on the train’s toilet when it does – the window offering a nice view of the train station/etc.

31. A and B’s fingers (nearly) touch as they hold on to the train handle.

32. A handful of times now, A has seen B behave poorly. When their “train enemy” acts up once more, they speak up.

33. A panics when a ticket inspector boards the train. Stranger B unexpectedly helps them.

34. A draws sketches of strangers that sit on the train with them. Usually, they keep their art to themselves, but something about B makes them want to gift them the sketch.

35. A sits behind B and is able to read the text messages they send to a shared friend/etc. They know they shouldn’t look, but they can’t help themselves (– especially not when they see their name being mentioned).

[themalhambird]

The world is not real: Charlotte cannot touch it. This -news-, this tragedy  is not real either, and it cannot touch her. There’s too much cotton in her ears, there’s an endless, keening chime slowly boring through her skull- in at one temple, out at the other- a continuous line, all the way through…

She is sitting on the sofa. There’s a cup and saucer cradled in her hands. She doesn’t remember picking it up, but the steam is ghosting over her face. It’s fresh. (Her husband is dead). Polly must have given it to her. (Her husband died at his own hand.) They have a visitor, she ought to be showing more hospitality. She wonders if there’s any of that fruitcake left. (Alfred confessed to murder. Alfred confessed to murder,  and then Alfred murdered himself)

“Mama?”

Polly’s voice, soft and tentative as it is, makes her jump. Tea sloshes, spills over, pools in the delicate saucer. She shakes herself and focuses her gaze on Sir Julian. “That’s not,” she tries, but the sound barely forms. Charlotte pauses, swallows, tries again. “That’s not right,” she says, unsure if she’s really addressing Sir Julian Harker or merely facing his direction whilst trying to bargain with a Higher Power. “That’s not- none of this is right, Alfred wouldn’t- he wouldn’t do any of it, any of this…” But he has. He has, he has, he has, and when he comes home she’s going to skin him alive. “What will we do?” she asks, as the first beginnings of fear worm their way through the numbness of shock. “The disgrace of it-”

“Mama!” Polly cries, indignant. “At this moment, of all moments, your thoughts cannot be of what other people will think- what does that matter, what do any of them matter!”

It matters because they have never been reckless with money, but savings will not last forever and Charlotte doesn’t know if the widows of Police Inspectors who confess to capital offences and then take their own lives qualify for any sort of pension. It matters because the disapprobation of society in any circumstances can be death by a thousand cuts, whereas the widow who has the sympathies of her community has a better chance at maintaining a somewhat genteel situation. It matters because the infamy of the father will cast a shadow over the life and the character of the daughter- the best chance for Polly, now, is marriage, but what respectable, decent man would want a father- in- law six feet deep in unconsecrated ground?

“Mrs Hillinghead,” Sir Julian says solemnly, “I wish to assure you that you and your daughter will have the fullness of my protection. The events of the last twenty four hours- they will not reflect on you, nor on your daughter. You have my word.”

She acknowledges his words without really understanding- it will not be until much later, lying in a too-empty bed and staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep- that Charlotte will consider that Harker told Polly about Alfred’s death before he told her, that he stood as close to Polly’s chair as proprietary allows for, that he has seemed- these past few weeks- to admire Polly: her beauty, her music. And perhaps nothing will come of it but friendship- , but the friendship of a man that powerful is not an asset to be scorned. And if it turns into anything more…

They were nineteen, she and Alfred, when they married- they had been friends their whole lives before that. And she had known about him:  years before they had married, she had known that  his desires steered his eyes not towards the ranks of giggling, frivolous girls who batted their eyelashes at his well built figure and handsome face, but to other members of his own sex. And she had ignored it, because she knew him: he was too good a man to act on those desires. And he was kind, and gentle, and they were friends, and a husband who would be perfectly happy to conduct a marriage with minimal activity in the matrimonial bed suited Charlotte. She had courted him as much as he had courted her, really, although whether he ever realised that…

And he’s dead. Her best friend of nearly forty years. The murder confession, she has already written off- she neither knows nor cares about the details. If it was a false confession, then he confessed to try and protect someone- probably that journalist, given the confession it prompted to her, and she is furious at him. She is furious at him for not protecting his wife and child, and for not letting the journalist face whatever justice he merited- unless, of course, the man threatened to reveal Alfred’s inclinations, and take the Inspector who had detected his crimes down along with him. That seems, to Charlotte, the most likely explanation. And if the confession is- was- true, then Alfred must have had good reason for taking another man’s life: she has seen him carry spiders in the palm of his hand to release them outside, rather than squash them underfoot; she has listened to him vent his frustrations about officers being too heavy handed with their arrests at more dinners than she can remember. Taking another human life…it must have broken something in his mind, which would explain being in such a state that he would…. It does not matter. Alfred is dead, either way- she is a widow, either way. And she will encourage Julian Harker’s friendship, because if Polly can catch him she will have a comfortable home, and a husband who seems a good hearted and generous man. And she, Charlotte, will grieve Alfred Hillinghead. But if his death unravels into the scandal she fears, then she will take care to grieve him quietly. She will survive this. She has to. She has to survive this so that there’s someone who remembers that Alfred Hillinghead played cricket as a boy and took two sugars in his tea.

[wordsarelife]

—the last time

pairing: anthony lockwood x sibling!reader

summary: you always throw yourself in harms way to save your friends and especially your brother, this one might've been too far

warnings: mentions of dying and getting hurt

"what the heck happened, lockwood?" barnes was folding his arms "we talked about this"

lockwoods eyes wandered from the ambulance and lucy and you back to barnes. he almost couldn't look him in the eyes. barnes was right. this wasn't the first time this had happened. actually, they had a few conversations about it already and lockwood could see that barnes was at his final point.

"this is exactly the reason every other agency has supervisors"

"we aren't like the other agencies" lockwood quickly argued

"believe me, i know" barnes was massaging the top of his nose "the other agency aren't causing me headaches"

"i'm sorry, inspector"

"this isn't the first time i heard that, lockwood" barnes sighed

"i know" lockwoods eyes wandered back to your shivering form "but it will be the last" he assured "i promise"

"i will take you up on that" barnes nodded, before his eyes turned softer "i'm really sorry for what almost happened today" he patted the boys shoulder

"i know" lockwood nodded, biting his lip as to stop the tears from flowing. barnes pity didn't make it any easier.

the inspector send lockwood another brave smile, before he raised his hand to wave at lucy and you, finally walking off to his car to leave the scene.

later in the evening when you were all home and you were laying in bed, lockwood came to talk to you.

"hey" he muttered softly, sitting down on the edge of your bed

"hi" the guilt was already crawling up your neck

you were a bit stunned when he got straight to the point. "you realize that this was extremely stupid, right?"

your eyes wandered to your hands that were playing with your book.

"what was is this time, y/n?" lockwood continued after your lack of an answer "you fell out of a window" he reminded "just a few metres more and you would be dead right now"

"i'm sorry" you muttered

"why do you always do that? why do you throw yourself in that kind of danger? why don't you never think before you jump?"

you shrugged your shoulders

"we talk about this a million times and you never change the way you behave on cases" he closed his eyes shortly, trying to keep his cool "i pull you out for a month, you come back, behave for like two days and then everything starts all over again. you nearly die every second, barnes is waiting to ban us from the job and the bills pile up more and more. i don't know what do to, y/n. i don't know how to fix it"

you weren't used to see your brother like this. his brown teary eyes stared at you and you felt like crying too. never before had he let you know anything about the struggles he was facing. he was your older brother after all, he was supposed to solve everything on his own. or at least that was what he always thought his job was.

"i don't know how to help you"

"help me?" you repeated "you don't need to. there's nothing wrong with me"

lockwood sighed. more exhausted than ever before. "stop pretending you're okay for a second, alright?"

"i'm not" you protested weakly. you could see in his eyes that heknew you were lying

"you don't have to prove anything. not to me and not to anyone else" he assured. then he leaned forward, inspecting you closely "why do you always save our lives at the expense of yours?"

"i don't"

"yes, you do" he nodded "that is why we are having this conversation now and the last hundred times it happened"

you sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to just leave it

"i'm trying to pay you back, anthony" you said, finally giving in

"what?" he asked stunned "pay me back for what?"

"for saving me and sacrifing so much to take care of me"

he almost looked angry at that "what are you talking about?" he asked "you don't owe me anything, alright? there's nothing you would need to pay back! and when it comes to a dangerous situation i'd rather get hurt than have you in the crossfire"

"no" you shook your head in protest "when it comes down to it, there's one of us that needs to survive and it's not me"

you could see the surprise in his face, before he had even said anything to that. his eyes welled up with tears again. the question he asked next would've probably been deemed silly by you, if it weren't for the seriousness of the conversation and his voice breaking while muttering the words. "y/n" he said softly "do you even want to be alive?"

you gasped, taking a moment to comprehend the weight of that question. "yes" you answered, truthfully "but i could never let something happen to you, don't you understand that? you're all i have left and i couldn't live without you, it's pretty selfish probably" you shrugged your shoulders "i didn't know what would happen to george and lucy as well. none of us is qualified to lead an agency, so they would probably lose their jobs. you're important to all of us, anthony and in comparison no one would care if i suddenly disappeared"

"i would" his voice made you look up "i will always care about what happens to you and though i understand your reasoning i cannot accept it. i wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you and george and lucy wouldn't either, you're as important as everyone in this house and we won't tolerate you acting like your life doesn't matter"

"but i-"

"no buts, young lady" you giggled at that "i'm your older brother and as long as you're living under my roof, you're going to follow my rules. that includes not jumping out of windows before knowing for sure that there is water underneath them or better not until i told you to jump or it is the safest option to survive, you hear me? survive"

"okay" you nodded

"we will work on this together" lockwood assured "and i will try to not get myself in any situation that would even make it necessary to be saved, alright?"

"sounds good"

"but you're still grounded"

"fine"

he hugged you, happy that you had been honest and that you accepted what he had told you. he kissed your forhead. "after all you're all i have left as well, don't you forget that"

"i won't" you said, looking into his eyes and feeling a bit of the guilt disappear into thin air "i promise"

[jeeyuns]

an odd morning in the life of teenie

y'alllll i'm just minding my business working from home today, on the couch. laptop out with docs and sheets open, tv on with 911 4x13 and 4x14 on because TODAY is the hiatus rewatch EPIC DAY.

i get a text from the neighbor in the the downstairs condo asking if i could kindly open our unit door so that Billy and Jim (remember them, teenie? they're coming to measure something since neighbor is a little paranoid about the smell rising up from the gas vents when the weather changes) can get through downstairs to the neighbor's unit.

neighbor's not home, but we agreed they will leave their back kitchen door open so these inspectors can get in and do their work through ours. the appointed time comes, the doorbell rings. i get up and make sure i have pants on. my hair's a lost cause but whatevs, i'm presentable. i hop down the stairs to open the door for Billy and Jim and LO AND BEHOLD neighbor had called the local firefighters.

they're greeting me and i robotically go through the social graces. the whole time i'm screaming internally because WHY are they in full turnouts. goddd i hate how uniforms are such a weakness for me. they apologize for not taking off their heavy work boots. i stutter that's uhhh that's no problem at all and snap my damn mouth closed before i can get worse.

they're nice, they chit chat as they walk through my house and down the back connecting doors down to the neighbor's. they've come here straight after another call, they said! wow, okay, i'm standing like 🧍🏻‍♀️in my kitchen waiting for them to come back up all awkward. head empty. they finish measuring pretty quickly and thump up the tiny narrow back stairs. i apologize for my cat binx army crawling past them in shock. me too buddy, me too.

they assure me the scent is normal and that they'll inform the neighbor themselves with a report. i nod and hold the door for them, trying to hold eye contact and failing because my ability to function in high capacity is INCAPACITATED BY HOT MEN IN UNIFORM WHO ARE FIREFIGHTERS.

they glance over at the tv as they walk out the door and Jim (? i think) turns to Billy and chuckles oh hey isn't that the buddy cop show? the rookie or something, right? i'm behind them spluttering because I FORGOT WHAT I PAUSED HOLY SHIT. Billy, oh, informed Billy, said: nah Jim, I think you mean Buddie. That's that 9-1-1 firefighters, right, miss? They turn to me as they step out onto the front porch. i have lost my mind. i nod frantically, mute. i shut the door.

this was the still my tv was paused on.

[assuredhome]

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[myemuisemo]

In the second part of "The Lauriston Garden Mystery," in Letters from Watson, the animal comparisons with people continue. The prior "simian" description of the victim now appears to be in the land of general Victorian biases about looks indicating character, rather than of specific dog whistles. (It's still an idea I'm glad isn't encouraged today.)

Inspector Lestrade, for instance, is given no description beyond "lean and ferret-like," implying he's a wiry, sneaky guy who's good at catching rats. Holmes, by contrast, is compared to a hound -- a classier and more morally noble catcher of vermin.

What the victim has in his pocketses is fascinating.

A Barraud watch is a high-quality pocket watch from the Barraud family watchmaker firm, which operated in the London area from 1727 to 1880 (so, retiring shortly before the story happens), per the British Museum. Holmes reads a serial number -- 97163 -- that may be made up without regard for Barraud's actual serial numbering (watch afficionados get very into Barraud details). Being five digits likely is meant to imply that the watch is newer rather than older.

Gold Albert chain is the style of chain that has a T-bar that slips into the button hole of a vest pocket and a swivel hook that attaches to the pocket watch. They were, unsurprisingly, popularized by Prince Albert, who died in 1861. I can't easily find a source that's specific about how long these specific chains really stayed fashionable, other than that pocket watches in general faded once men's wristwatches caught on in the early 20th century. Having a heavy gold chain at minimum implies the victim is a prosperous and outwardly respectable gentleman who might lean a titch conservative and practical.

Gold ring with Masonic device -- now this raises the BIG question. Are we talking Masons like "Moose Lodge but classier" or Masons like "conspiracy theories"? Even in the 1880s, it could have gone either way. Being a Mason was a gentlemanly thing to do, assuring business connections and a reliable social network when traveling. We're back in an era when everything respectable required an introduction -- gentlefolk who were moving to a new city took letters of introductions with them! -- and simply being a fellow Mason counted. So our victim has upper-middle-class social connections.

At the same time, Arthur Conan Doyle himself joined the Masons at about this time (possibly a bit after the story was written) as part of his exploration of spiritualism and self-improvement. So our victim's being a Mason isn't not a sign he might have deep secrets. (This interview with John Dickie, who wrote a book on Freemasonry, is particularly lively.)

Gold pin -- bull dog's head, with rubies as eyes. Bulldog stickpins or cravat pins were apparently quite popular! This one puzzles me, as the bulldog is ordinarily a symbol for England, but the victim is supposed to be American. And a gold pin is not a cheap souvenir! My next thought is that it's a Yale bulldog, but I'm reaching.

Russian leather card case -- Russian leather was popular for some years before the story because it was durable and resistant to water- and insect-damage. Our victim is willing to pay for quality and/or is taking his card case places where it has a rough life. If the cards only say "Enoch J. Drebber" and "Cleveland," these are his social cards, left when paying calls. (Paying calls was the Victorian equivalent of sending memes to the group chat. You'd go round dropping off your cards at the homes of friends and acquaintances, and a few might be "at home" to invite you in for tea and cakes. Not paying calls was a good way to fall out of contact with society.)

I keep wondering -- why Cleveland? It's a Doylistic question: the American has to be from somewhere, but why Cleveland? An Englishman in the 1880s would have heard of New York, Philadelphia, San Francisco, and Chicago, surely, but Cleveland?

Well. I had forgotten that President James A. Garfield, elected in 1880 and assassinated in 1881, was from Cleveland. Cleveland was in the news. The city was also an industrial powerhouse from the Civil War into the early 20th century, so if the idea is to convey a large, wealthy American city, where society is perhaps less refined than in New York, but not so rough-and-tumble as in "the West," then Cleveland fits the bill brilliantly. Best yet, it was ethnically diverse, with large German and Hungarian populations.

Pocket edition of Boccaccio's Decameron -- it's an era when a man who traveled would carry a pocket edition of some classic book, to while away train trips and nights in hotels. The choice of book should be an indicator of character.

This is probably the 1872 revision of Charles Balguy's 1741 translation, which kept the more ribald bits in Italian. I'm leaning toward thinking that we're supposed to see the victim as a man who liked a bit of the salacious, as no matter how the Decameron is bowdlerized, everyone knows the spicy bits are there (though why is someone else's name in the book? well, someone likes a spicy read).

Letters from the Guion Steamship Company sent me down a rabbit hole of steamship history. This is not a made-up company. This is the JetBlue of steamship lines. Per my plunge into Wikipedia, White Star was known for comfort, Cunard and Inman were known for speed, and Guion was known for transporting immigrants in steerage.

Right around the time of the story, Guion commissioned new ships to try to compete based on speed. This went badly for them, including stranding a couple ships.

Our victim could be sailing Guion as an indicator that he's pinching some pennies, or that he simply doesn't care about White Star-type comforts. Alternately, this could be Chekov's steamship and someone important will later be on a ship that sinks.

Seven pounds 13 is about $300 in today's money. Without ATMs and credit cards, and without a bank book or other financial instruments for a UK bank, this is the money that has to get the victim to Liverpool on the train (there's no train ticket) and cover any incidentals until he embarks. (Or perhaps there's more wherever he was staying?) Depending what he's got to do before leaving, he's decently prosperous.

Whatever point Holmes expected Lestrade to see as "crucial" in wiring to Cleveland (presumably to the police department), I have no idea what it might be.

Holmes' deductions about the murderer are a mix of explainable and mysterious.

Height and shoes are derived from Holmes' painstaking measurements, and Holmes is an expert at identifying cigar ash. (Trichinopoly is an Indian cigar, popular for its mild flavor.) The details of the taxi are from Holmes' examination of the mud outside. (This is definitely not a Playfair mystery where the reader sees the actual clues.)

"Florid face" likely means the murderer drinks, though he could be outdoorsy or have a choleric temperament. The long fingernails must be deduced from the writing in blood, but why were they long?

Victorian nails were kept very short by modern standards, even for women. So "remarkably long" nails might only be half an inch -- but it's a vulgar and exotic detail. I have driven myself into a frenzy in trying to find a fraternal group, religion, criminal activity, or skilled trade where it was normal, symbolic, or practically useful to have long nails on one hand.

In an era with serialized novels and no Wikipedia, readers must have been frantic with asking their friends about tantalizing details. Making all those required calls was doubtless a lot more fun if everyone had read the latest chapter.

So we have a victim who is prosperous and at least surface-respectable, but not quite "nice" and a murderer who sought revenge, has some odd trade, and is likely upset about whatever's to do with the wedding ring.

And what is to do with it? Is it intended for a future bride, taken from a dead one, or left by a runaway?

I'm on tenterhooks to hear what Constable Rance has to say next week.

[m-jelly]

Can you do a Levi x vampire reader where Levi acts all tough and intimidating but is a totally subby simp for the reader both in and out of the bedroom and no one knows that the reader holds the reigns in the relationship except the other vets and every time she drinks his blood he turns into a completely sub mess. Maybe some sexy time?

@kenkopanda-art <3

Dedication and loyalty

Pairing: Levi x Vamp!Fem!Levi

Genre and tags: Romance, fluff, modern AU, established couple, alternative AU, vampire, mentions of blood, suggestive themes.

Concept: Levi is protective and puts his foot down with others when you're out and about enjoying your day, but when you get home after a long day Levi seeks your attention, love and approval.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, blood-drinking and suggestive themes.

Taglist: @ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @skittlelover69 @li-anne @nyxiieluna @nbinairyn @youre-ackermine @strawberrybunny123 @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @demonsimp6

Levi inspected the bottles of blood in front of the light. He slammed it down and growled. "Tch, this is disgusting! This stuff has clearly been mixed badly. I won't let my girlfriend touch this stuff!"

The worker looked nervous. "I can assure you this blood we made is fine! It's the best mix of fake blood we've made."

"My girl has nothing but the best."

Another worker smirked before whispering. "Fang banger whore."

Levi glared at them. "Wanna say that to my face? I could rip your dick off and shove it down your throat seeing as you love sucking yourself off so much. Dumb fuck." He turned to the worker. "If you think this blood is okay, then you drink it."

The worker shook on the spot. "Okay, okay, I'll confess! It's been making vampires sick. The mixing is bad!"

Levi tapped on his phone. "Fucking knew it." He called up Erwin. "Erwin, I need a team at my location. There's illegal material being mixed into fake blood for vampires. Tch, thanks." He ended the call and sighed. "Ridiculous."

You smiled softly as Levi ordered people around when they arrived and investigated. He finished up and led you outside as he talked to Erwin. He put up an umbrella and held it above you as he got very passionate.

You could go out into the sun due to the type of vampire you were, but it did make you a bit weak so having shade was nice. You were born a vampire, therefore you were considered more powerful than those who have been turned.

You smiled more at Levi as he guided you along to the car. You sat down and let him drive you to the next spot. You followed him inside as he inspected the fake blood. He used his testing kits and then nodded in approaval.

Levi was the best thing in your life. You used to be so alone, but when you were buying fake blood one day you met Levi. Levi is an inspector and officer of the law. Levi would ensure order was in place. He part of the vampire unit, in which he would protect humans and vampires. He would ensure the selling of fake blood was not tampered with and that there were no vampire blood farms, which were vampers being bled for their healing blood. He was loved by both sides.

You'd both fallen hopelessly in love with each other. You were always around each other and the man made you laugh so much. He knew all the ways to make blood into something you could eat or drink. Levi made you the best blood tea that you adored so much. He was your world and you loved him so much. You were hoping one day you could turn him and spend eternity with him.

Levi bought a few cases of fake blood. "I'll take these to the car."

You picked up the stack of boxes. "I've got this."

Levi admired your vampiric strength. "Okay."

You walked to the car and put everything in the boot. "Do you have anything else to do today?"

Levi tapped on his phone and sighed. "No. You need to get home though. Your vitals are flagging up on my app. We need to get you blood."

You lightly touched the bracelet on your arm. You liked that you could wear it so you could keep an eye on your health. The app would also tell you or Levi if you'd had toxic blood so you could fix it as soon as possible.

You nodded and looked back at Levi. "Home then."

Levi drove you both home as he kept glancing over at you. "You feeling okay?"

You hummed. "Just a little tired."

He reached over and placed his hand on his thigh. "I'll fix it."

You placed your hand on Levi's and squeezed. "I know you will. You're a good boy."

Levi's hair stood up on end as he felt a rush of pleasure. "G-good boy...yes, that's me."

You hummed a little laugh. "I'm thirsty. I'm gonna get a drink."

"Wait." He pulled up to the parking spot. "Wait until we get into our apartment."

You grabbed all the boxes and smiled. "Sure. Let's head up." You stood in the lift and rode it to the penthouse. You walked out and placed the boxes down in the kitchen. You pulled your phone out and hummed. "Looks like my zone of vampires is behaving." You released a long sigh. "Damn, they always pester me for something. Sorry Levi, give me a moment."

Levi watched you talk on the phone and give orders to people and approve of other things. He perked up when you were finished. "Are you done?"

You nodded. "All done for the day."

Levi whined and moved closer to you. "Was I a good boy today?"

You reached over and caressed his cheek. "You were a very good boy." You held his chin and smiled showing your fangs. "You always are."

"I just want you to be happy. You're so perfect and wonderful." He placed his hands on your hips. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

You kissed the end of his nose. "Well, I am a little thirsty. I'm going to get a drink."

Levi hugged you tightly. "No. No, you only drink from me."

You played with his hair as you hummed a laugh. "Well then, does my handsome man want me to drink from him?"

Levi pulled back from you with a sparkle in his eyes. "Yes, yes please."

You kissed him before releasing him and walking to the sofa. "Come with me."

He hurried after you and stopped by the sofa. "How do you want me?"

"Just take a seat. I'll be with you in a bit."

Levi sat down and whined. "My love."

You walked over and straddled him. "Hush, I'm here."

He pouted a little. "Don't leave me, my sweet."

"I never will." You slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "You're such a good boy for me and so sweet. I could never leave you." You crashed your lips against his and hummed in happiness. "I love you."

"I love you too."

You leaned closer and dragged your lips across his sensitive skin. You hummed a laugh as Levi moaned. You opened your mouth a little and let your fangs scrape over Levi's skin. You smirked as he flinched and whined at you. You flicked his skin with your tongue and pulled back to look at Levi.

Levi panted with a blush on his cheeks. "Please. Please drink from me."

You held his neck lightly before turning his head to the side. "Of course." You kissed his skin before sucking on it and playfully nipping. "So soft." You inhaled his scent and purred. "You smell so delicious."

Levi moaned your name. "Please."

You shifted on his lip and smiled when you felt Levi getting hard. "Forgive my teasing, but it does make you so delicious for me."

"Mm."

You opened your mouth and sank your teeth into Levi's skin. You felt the pop of his skin giving way to your fangs. You hummed as his divine nectar flooded into your mouth. Your gulped and licked at his wound as you were fed his delicious blood.

You pulled back and panted. "Yummy."

Levi panted and whimpered at you. "S-So good. M-More. T-Take m-more."

You smiled and kissed him. "I will, my love." You dragged your tongue up his skin to gather the leaking blood. "Mm." You sucked on the wound and felt a fire burn inside you. You pulled back and gasped. "Time to heal, my love."

Levi gazed at you and whined. "Y-Yes."

You ran your thumb over his bottom lip. "Be a good boy and open your mouth for me." You smiled as Levi did as you asked. "Good boy."

You cut your tongue on your fang releasing your blood. You leaned closer and pushed your tongue into Levi's mouth and kissed him as he drank your blood. You rolled your hips against him and grinded against the bulge in his trousers. You smiled against Levi's lips when he gripped you hard and moaned in response.

You pulled back and lightly kissed him. "Do you want to drink something else?"

Levi's eyes lit up in delight. He flicked his gaze down to your crotch, then back up to your face. "I-I can eat you out?"

You pushed your thumb into his mouth and hummed. "Would you like that?"

He sucked your thumb and nodded. "Mm, yes."

"Then you may eat."

[lilyvandersteen]

Home Away From Home by @lilyvandersteen

This story was written for the Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang, and is dedicated to @justgleekout, who made art for this prompt, and to my faithful beta @hkvoyage. Thank you so much!

Summary:

Cooper buys a hotel sight unseen and asks Blaine to run it for him over the summer. Only, the hotel is a health and safety hazard and Inspectors Hummel and Abrams are hell-bent on closing it down. Can Blaine spruce the hotel up in time and save Cooper's investment?

Rated M. Warning for the use of a rape drug in the story. No actual rape, though, I assure you.

You can also read this story on AO3.

~~~~~~

Prologue

Thump!

Blaine woke with a start as he fell out of bed.

“Oops!” said his roommate, wincing sympathetically. “Didn’t mean to push you that hard, but you just wouldn’t wake up.”

Blaine groaned and rubbed his sore bottom as he got up, squinting at his alarm clock. “Tina! It’s three o’clock in the morning! Why would you wake me up at this hour?”

“So you could answer your phone. Or silence it. It’s been blaring off and on for at least ten minutes. You’re lucky I haven’t smashed it to bits yet!”

Right on cue, Blaine’s phone went off again. He grabbed it and tapped the Answer button.

“Hey squirt!” Cooper boomed.

“Don’t call me… Coop, why on EARTH are you waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“What? It’s not… Oh, hang on, time difference. Right. Didn’t think of that, squirt, sorry.”

Blaine sighed. “Don’t call me squirt. And okay, I guess you’re filming somewhere at the other side of the world again?”

“Yes, we’re working on that fantasy series for Netflix that I told you about. I’m in Thailand right now. Flying to New Zealand tomorrow. I’m having a total blast.”

“That’s great. Now tell me, what was so important you had to tell me right this minute?”

“Oh! Oh, just you wait, you’re going to LOVE this!”

“Uh-oh,” Blaine mumbled between gritted teeth. “What now?”

Cooper either didn’t hear him, or pretended not to.

“You know how you’re always telling me to stop spending my money on stuff like cars and tech, right?”

Blaine huffed. “And with good reason. You spend an obscene amount on gadgets. And that Bugatti is SO over the top.”

“Exactly!” said Cooper. “Well, now I’ve made a ‘sound investment’, as you call it. Real estate, as you advised.”

Blaine’s heart leapt. “Really? You bought a place in New York? And you’re calling me to ask me if I will move in with you? The answer’s yes!”

Tina put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“Nah… No. Not exactly.”

Blaine’s sense of misgiving tingled.

“I didn’t buy a house. I bought a hotel. It was a steal, I’m telling you. I couldn’t pass it up!”

“A hotel? Where? Why?”

“Well, I won’t be this pretty forever, you know,” Cooper explained. “And then I might not get booked as an actor anymore. So I needed to find a back-up plan for when I stop being in demand. Talked about it with the guys here over lunch, and Sebastian Smythe, who plays my younger brother in the series we’re filming, said he had a hotel he could sell me. I kind of like the thought of offering people a nice vacation, you know. A home away from home. Maybe I could do a one-man show after dinner. Like they do on cruises. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

“Yes, yes, that’s all very well, but you’re still filming now. So who’s going to run the hotel?”

“Well, that’s where you come in,” Cooper announced cheerfully. “You’re done with your exams, right? And now you’ve got several months off. So you can go check out the hotel for me. See if the staff that’s in place is okay or needs to be replaced.”

“Coop, are you insane?”

“Think of it as a free vacation, squirt. I’m sure the staff will pamper you once they find out you’re the brother of the new owner!”

Blaine shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Have you even SEEN the place before you bought it?”

“On the website, yes. It looks great!”

“Ugh, Coop! So you saw a couple of pretty pictures on a website and shelled out a fortune sight unseen? How can you be sure the place even exists?”

Cooper chuckled. “Well, of course it exists! The previous owner sent me an Excel spreadsheet with the bookings. It’s booked solid for the rest of the year already! Just think what a fortune I’m going to make!”

Blaine tugged at his curls in frustration, repressing an ungodly urge to strangle his brother. “UN-BE-LIEVE-A-BLE. You are unbelievable! Okay, not everyone has a head for business, but I can’t believe you are THIS much of an idiot! Are you sure you’re actually my brother and George Anderson’s son? Our father would have a conniption if he found out about this!”

“I thought you’d be happy I’d followed your advice.”

Blaine could almost hear his brother’s pout.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair again.

“I know you meant well. But… Buying a place without even visiting it first is not a good idea, and that’s putting it mildly. There could be all sorts of things wrong with it. If you say you didn’t pay much, that’s quite likely, in fact. This ‘investment’ of yours may be just as useless as that Nintendo Wii Supreme you just had to have.”

“Hey! It’s not useless! I’ve used it a lot!” Cooper protested. “And I’m sure it’s all on the up and up. As I said, the pics on the website look fantastic!”

Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed another sigh. Talking to Cooper was very much like talking to a toddler, sometimes.

“Coop … Anyone can copy-paste a couple of nice pictures onto a website. That doesn’t prove anything. Did the realtor give you a virtual tour?”

“Uhm… No.”

“Did you pay someone to do a thorough inspection of the property before you bought it?”

“No.”

“Please tell me that the offer you made had a home inspection contingency, at least?”

“Uhm… No idea.”

Blaine’s voice rose an octave. “A title contingency, to make sure no-one else can claim the property?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you even so much as look the hotel up on TripAdvisor to see if it had good reviews?”

“Nope, didn’t think of that.”

“Oh, Coop…” Blaine groaned. “What a mess! You need to go there, stat, and check the property from top to bottom. You actually bought it already, right? It’s not just an offer you can withdraw?”

“It’s mine, yes. I signed a contract. But you know I can’t go check the property right now. I’m heading to New Zealand tomorrow, and I’m needed there for at least six more weeks.”

Blaine let his head down, overwhelmed. “Ugh… I’m not awake enough for this. Coop, send me all the info, and the contract, by e-mail. I’ll look it over and see what our options are.”

“I knew I could count on you, squirt. Thanks a lot. I’ll send you everything. And now I’ll let you sleep. Sorry again for waking you up, and talk to you later!”

Cooper rang off, and Blaine was left staring at the phone in his hands in bewilderment.

Tina cocked her head to the side. “So… Your brother bought a hotel? Just like that?”

Blaine nodded. “Just like that. And then recruited me to sort everything out for him. Oh, this is going to be a disaster!”

“Why are you in such a panic about this, Blainey Days? Surely, your brother wouldn’t let himself be duped?”

Blaine groaned. “Oh, yes, he would!”

He patted Tina on the arm. “But that’s my problem, not yours. You can go back to bed, and I’m sorry my idiot brother woke you up like that. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning to make up for it, okay?”

“Okay. G’night.”

Blaine wearily shuffled back to his bed, and was out like a light.

By six a.m., though, he was awake again, worrying.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, he got up quietly and started up his computer.

Cooper had sent the files, as requested.

The contract did not have a home inspection contingency nor a title contingency, as Blaine had feared.

The hotel wasn’t in a nice touristy location. It was in the middle of nowhere. A place called Lima, Ohio.

Also, the hotel had certainly not been a “steal”. Cooper must have sunk a lot of capital into it.

The photos on the website did look good, yes, but as soon as Blaine checked the reviews about the hotel on TripAdvisor, he knew they had to be fake.

All of the reviews were negative. And it was bad. Worse even than Blaine had feared.

The mildest complaint was one about the lack of free Wi-Fi. It went steadily downhill from there.

Guests complained about the hotel being overbooked. About dirty and stinky rooms. About a faulty outlet that fried their shaver. About bed bugs and cockroaches. About leaking taps that kept them up all night. About wanting a nice hot shower and only getting freezing cold water. About noisy neighbours that kept them up all night because the walls were so flimsy you could hear everything through them. About beds that creaked with every move they made and mattresses so old and thin their back was in knots. About sweltering heat in summer and bone-deep cold in winter, because the air conditioning units didn’t work. About the stale bread and lukewarm coffee they got for breakfast. About seeing mice in the restaurant. About rude staff that would come into their room without even knocking or that were accused of stealing money and a phone charger. About the lack of elevators and ramps for wheelchairs. And a blind person complained about their assistance dog not being let in.

When he’d read all of the scathing reviews, Blaine let out his breath in a big woosh.

 Oh, Cooper, what have you done now?

Blaine felt like banging his head on the table in frustration, but refrained, choosing to get started on the pancakes instead.

When Tina emerged from her bedroom and saw how unhappy her roommate looked, she steered him towards a kitchen chair to give him a shoulder massage, saying, “Tell me all about it, Bee.”

So Blaine told her everything.

She whistled low. “I know the place. I grew up in Lima. And that hotel was where I lost my virginity after prom.”

Blaine shuddered. “TMI!”

Tina laughed. “Oh please! That’s something everyone does in high school. Get over yourself!”

Blaine wouldn’t meet her eyes, thinking of the only school dance he’d ever been to and how that had ended.

“Not everyone,” he mumbled.

“Well, anyway,” said Tina, “the place was a dump even then. I’d say sell it again immediately. But who’s going to want it? And even if someone does, they’ll pay a lot less than your brother did, so he’ll lose a lot of money.”

“Yep.”

“Can he afford to lose that much money?”

“Nope.”

Tina clacked her tongue. “Then we’ll have to do what we can to save the situation.”

“We?”

Tina put her hands on her hips. “Yes, well, unlike SOME people, I believe in roommate solidarity. Don’t think I didn’t hear you, telling Cooper you’d move in with him!”

“I meant for you to come with me, of course,” Blaine tried weakly, but Tina wasn’t having it, sending him a fierce glare.

Blaine looked down and swallowed, remembering how happy he’d been for a moment before Cooper had dashed his hopes. “Sorry. I just… I saw myself living in one of those pretty brownstones, and I jumped the gun. Sorry. As it happens, you don’t need to be scared I’ll leave you in the lurch. If I want a brownstone, I’ll have to buy one with my own money one day. Cooper’s proved once again that I shouldn’t count on him. And I was a fool to think I could, even for a split second. He’s an idiot, and all he ever does is make my life difficult. I should know that by now. He’s proved it so many times.”

“Aww, don’t be so hard on him.”

Blaine put a pancake on his plate and drowned it in syrup. Then he started shovelling big bites into his mouth, chewing with vigour and determinedly not looking at Tina.

“Blaine, don’t be like that. He made a mistake. We all do that, don’t we?”

Blaine swallowed a piece of pancake and retorted, “Our mistakes don’t cost millions of dollars. That’s the difference.”

“Well, he’ll make more millions, won’t he? How much does he get for that acting job he’s doing now?”

Blaine shrugged. “Dunno. But it had better be a lot, if we’re to renovate the hotel he bought. Let me first check with Monique if we can get that contract voided, though. I don’t think we’ll be that lucky, but it won’t hurt to check.”

“Who’s Monique?”

“She works for my father,” Blaine clarified. “Has done so for years. She’s like part of the family. I’ve known her since I was very little. Played with her daughter in my father’s office.”

“Hmm, so how could she help you? And why would she?”

“Monique has a soft spot for me,” Blaine smiled, thinking of all the scrapes with his father she’d gotten him out of. “And she knows this stuff like the back of her hand. She does everything that’s to do with real estate for my father. Buying, selling, finding contractors for renovation works, buying furniture for buildings, you name it, she does it.”

Tina cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t Cooper contact her then, if he wanted to buy a hotel?”

“Coop’s more of a split-second decision kind of guy,” Blaine told her. “Never looks before he leaps. And then he looks to me to solve the problems he’s created. It’s exhausting.”

“You’d think he were the younger brother,” Tina giggled.

“Yep. He’s almost forty, but he still has the impulse control of a four-year-old.”

After breakfast and doing the dishes, Blaine called Monique and explained the situation, sending her all the documents. She confirmed what he thought – there was no backing out of the contract anymore.

Ugh.

“Could you check if the place is Cooper’s outright, please?” Blaine asked. “Seeing as there’s no title contingency, there’s no knowing who else might have a claim on it.”

“I’ll look into it,” Monique said, “but I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Oh, and please don’t tell our father about this, Monique, okay?” Blaine implored her. “He’d go ballistic, and even though Coop is a moron, I don’t want him dead.”

Monique laughed and promised not to breathe a word about it to Mr. Anderson. “And if you need any help fixing the place up, you know who to call. Glad to help, whatever you need!”

“Well, the first thing we’re going to need is pest control. So if you know a good pest control firm over there in Ohio?”

Monique hummed and click-clacked on her keyboard for a minute or two. Then she said, “We’ve worked with Orkin, based in Cincinnati, Ohio. Did the job well. I’ll e-mail you their contact information. What else?”

“An HAVC specialist, a handyman and an electrician to fix all sorts of stuff, and a reliable plumber. Oh, and another thing… You buy loads of office furniture and supplies cheap in auctions, right? When companies go bust and their assets are sold to pay the debts?”

“That’s right. Want me to look for hotel stuff for you?”

“Yes, please. Furniture, mattresses, quality linens, you name it, we’re going to need it. Thanks, Monique!”

Monique chuckled. “It’s your brother who should say thank you. The things we do for that boy, right?”

“Right,” Blaine sighed. “Looks like I’m heading to Ohio for the summer. I’ll keep you posted, Monique, and thanks again!”

[forensicated]

01x02 - A Friend In Need

This episode (and the one after) was shown out of sequence when it first aired (unless you lived in London). This is because of a Technician's strike against Thames TV. It was shown after The Sweet Smell Of Failure (London aired a Minder repeat in the same time slot for those 2 weeks)

(This appears to be before they used the Isle Of Dogs area as Canley when showing maps.)

Superintendent Brownlow asks Roy for his opinion on 3 recent bomb hoax phone calls. Roy believes they're pranks, however, the Commissioner and Home Office are both applying pressure on Charles to treat them as potential terrorism; especially as two of them were made to Jewish restaurants.

Roy is reluctant to step on Bob's toes as he has been investigating them since they began. Charles assures him it's no reflection on Bob, it just needs to be seen - by the higher-ups - like it's being taken seriously hence a Detective Inspector over a Uniform Sgt. Charles is also aware Bob has had a heavy workload of late and that he has a graduate probationer, PC Higgins, attached to him. 

Roy smirks and is told off by Charles for his refusal to have Higgins in CID for a few weeks, warning him that Higgins could be his governor in 10 years given the accelerated promotion his 'type' are getting. ('Type' being university graduates but the obvious disdain in both men to this thought is wonderful!). "I don't care how you do it but get it done."

Also unimpressed with the graduate is probationer Jim who tells him he just had to watch and listen in his first week. "But with you of course it'll be different. Work experience I suppose." The well-spoken Higgins agrees, telling the gathered officers that he'll be attached to an outer division for the next week and then to Police College for a few years. "And then come back as Sgt I suppose" June drawls. "Destined for high places are we?" Taffy laughs. "That's the theory."

Jim tells Higgins that he's lucky he's been placed with June as she's a good copper and 'one of the best'. June is visibly unsettled by her ex Dave Litten approaching them. She tells him to go and "park his arse" at Ted Roach's table rather than squeeze onto theirs. Taffy and Jim tell Higgins that it's something he's going to have to get used to. "If it's not Ackland Vs Litten it's Galloway Vs The Rest Of The World." 

Unmoved, Dave asks "Henry Higgins." ("It's Derek actually...") what he thinks of Sun Hill. He thinks it's quiet for an East End station and he expected more to be going on 'outside'. The officers explain it's not always like this and to treat it as the lull before the storm. They joke that they wouldn't be surprised if Roy had made the hoax calls himself to keep them on their toes. Dave tells them he's already had a run-in with him that morning, muttering about something. Higgins asks if that's what Roy is usually like and, sensing a wind-up, Taffy tells him: "No, not really. Nice quiet chap when you get to know him. You can always knock on his door and ask for a quiet cosy little chat. Very accessible. Especially towards the uniform branch. Father figure you might say."

"Father Figure" Roy is tearing into Bob after reading the file on the hoax calls and accuses him of cocking it up. "You don't bloody listen, do you? You're as pigheaded as ever!" Bob shouts back, warning him they need to be tactful and can't just crash bang wallop into it. Ted and Mike are hilariously making no secret that they're enjoying the show when Roy slams the door to his office. Roy snaps that it's just a prank and claims Bob has inflamed the situation by treating it with kid gloves and in doing so Bob has got no MO and no leads. Bob points out that he's been rostered on the early turn when none of the owners are available. He's bound by procedure and he has to treat each call as real and can't take shortcuts. He reminds Roy that Uniform don't have the luxury of getting cases passed up half worked on with evidence and lines of inquiry found like Roy and CID do. "Don't worry Sarge, the CID - as usual - will sort it all out. Know what I mean?" Bob warns him that when he falls from his high horse and needs help, no one will lift a finger, least of all him. "Get the violins, Robert." He snaps before the men place a bet on Roy cracking the case within 2 weeks.

A fourth call has come through, this time to a Greek restaurant. Tom Penny speaks to the owner and asks him if he's positive it's a hoax. The caller says they've cleared the restaurant and searched it. Tom tells him to double-check thoroughly to make sure. (Cor, imagine doing that now! I was even surprised when they had staff involved in searching the cinema with them in episode 143 but I can imagine that was partly due to having the person who was placing bombs involved in the search). He warns them not to touch anything suspicious and that they'll send the bomb car over. He then arranges for CID to be informed.

Mike tries his hardest to speak to men who mostly only understand Greek and want to go home that Roy is on his way and that no one can leave. Ted is... Ted. ❤ He only stops eating when Roy appears.

Ted tells him it's the same as all the others and that nothing has been found. Roy tells him he can leave and take Mike and uniform with him as he and Dimitri - an old friend - are going to go over everything. "Even if it takes all night."

"Your public is waiting for you out there, God help them!" Bob dismisses uniform from the briefing, placing Higgins and Jim together. Jim hasn't learnt all the bad habits of the others yet so he is partnering them together despite Jim being a probationer himself.

Mike and Ted are in bright and early to continue working on their cases. They're very amused that, come 9.20am, there's still no sign of Roy, nor did he write anything in the book about the case. He finally makes an appearance a few minutes later - paler than usual which is quite some doing.

Mike goes to make him a black coffee whilst Ted finishes dressing him, warns him to take water with his Ouzo and the boys try to find their boss some aspirin to dull his whimpers.

"The things I do for this job." Roy pouts before telling Ted he's found the specific phone box the calls came from as there are roadworks audible in all the phone calls and it's the only one that has had roadworks happening nearby all week. He suspects it's a way for 2 men to avoid paying their bills when eating out by getting a friend to ring and make a bomb threat. Through his investigation, Roy has found 2 men in particular who requested the bill at each restaurant just before the threats came in and they had to evacuate. Being the 80's, there's no one at BT to speak to over the weekend so Roy tells Mike and Ted to visit every local eatery to ask them to keep their eye out for 2 men making large orders and behaving suspiciously. He wants them to call the station so that officers can catch those responsible.

Roy tries to relieve his hangover by dunking his face in cold water much to Bob's amusement. Bob mocks him and his 'for the sake of the job' excuse and says he has no sympathy for him. He does however help him locate the towel dispenser when Roy misses it by a mile and almost faceplants into the wall... even if it is empty!

Mr Rutherford arrives at the station and insists on speaking to Roy about the bomb hoaxes. He gets riled when Rutherford implies that the police aren't doing much and directs him to "the thirteenth hole at the golf club" to speak to Brownlow.

The two men [one being Perry Fenwick] in question for the bomb hoaxes speak to their 'friend', a gullible magazine seller on the high street. He is oblivious that he's being set up to take the wrap should the police become involved. They slip him a few quid and ask him to make a call to a Chinese restaurant at approximately 2.30pm.

Roy takes his mood out on uniform by reading through the report book, first bollocking Taffy to redo his crime reports, then telling Bob he wants to see Hollis. As he does, a frequent flyer drunk called Lampton tries to make a donation to the police widows and orphans. "Charity, Dear Sgt, begins at home. And I'm beginning to feel like I live here." "I think I'll stick to vimto..." Higgins remarks after seeing Lampton out. "Me too!" Jim adds - if only you did, Jim!

Lampton finishes his bottle and places it in the gutter. Jim asks Taffy if he's nearly finished as there's only 5 minutes left. Taffy says he'll be 15 minutes and to get him a drink and he'll meet him at the pub. (The barmaid, Sadie, guests in several episodes over series 1 to 4. Cheryl Hall who goes on to play Smithy's mum. If only she'd been called Sadie and not Pauline it could have been a nice nod 😉) By the time Sadie serves Jim, they've already been paid for by Lampton. When he arrives, Taffy is horrified that Lampton brought them drinks and tells Jim they're leaving. Sadie asks Jim to remove Lampton, claiming he's his responsibility as he's drinking with him. Taffy explains it's a disciplinary offense to associate with a criminal on bail and they need to leave before the drink is misconstrued as a bribe. Jim feels bad but Taffy says Jim can do what he wants but he's not losing his job for a drunk. Jim wrestles Lampton out and tries to take him home.

At the Chinese restaurant, the suspects have arrived and work their way through the menu. At 2.15pm the older one asks for the menu again. The younger one groans and says he only wants a coffee as he's full up. Just after half 2, their friend makes it to the call box but the phone line has been cut. He hurries into a nearby shop to make a call. The shop assistant asks what he's doing, startling him. He runs off before he can end the call, leading to the assistant speaking to the person on the other end. Now sure of what is happening, the owner of the restaurant gestures to a waiter who alerts the other staff. Panicking, the older suspect shouts out that there's a bomb and there's a stampede of people to leave the restaurant, causing people to get hurt. The chefs leave the kitchen, entering the main room with huge machetes, looking for the suspects!

Outside Jim is trying to escort Lampton home as people scream and run from the restaurant. He has to leave Lampton - who drops his wallet in the confusion and runs over to take charge. At the station Tom and Reg are sorting the ambulance and police response to the restaurant. "[The staff] have caught the bomb hoax pair..." Reg smirks when he's asked for another ambulance. Roy hurries to the scene and congratulates Jim, telling him the two suspects will live - just - after their run in with the staff.

The next morning, Bob asks for volunteers to take Higgins out for his final shift...

No one volunteers so Bob asks Higgins who he wants to go out with and he replies, "With the hero of the moment, Sergeant. Carver." Unfortunately for Jim however, Lampton is in the front office to make a complaint, alleging that Jim has stolen his wallet.

Roy is in a buoyant mood which doesn't dim even when catching up on station gossip. "All that good work gone to waste." he sighs before laughing at Bob calling the Chief Super in on a Sunday. Bob explains he's hoping Lampton will come to his senses when he realises the importance of what he's accusing Jim of before it can go any further. Roy tells Bob that he knows where he is if there's anything he can do. "Esprit de corps." (Team moral) Bob sighs.

Brownlow reminds Lampton he was "under the weather' when he left the station and that he could have misplaced the wallet. Lampton insists he had it when he left and in the pub only for it to be gone when he returned home. "Who else could it have been? He took me home - why should he do that?" No good deed goes unpunished, JimJim. Lampton asks Charles what happens now - will the police sub him as he needs 'groceries' (ha!) Charles tells him he's jumping the gun and that he needs to speak to Jim and uniform. If he's satisfied there's a crime then he'll call in CIB.

No one believes Jim is guilty other than Lampton but it has to be looked into. Bob gives Jim a subtle heads-up whilst Taffy speaks to Brownlow. "It's not what you've done, it's what they think you've done!" Bob is more disappointed than anything, telling Jim he keeps making stupid mistakes and that he's a policeman, not a social worker. Jim is near tears, telling Bob that he's never taken anything from anyone in his life. He admits he felt sorry for Lampton because he has a problem. Bob tells him he's not the only one with a problem and sighs, telling him he's stupid enough to do it again.

Ted and Mike discuss Jim and they watch Taffy enter the canteen. Ted tells Mike that Taffy might be up for disciplinary if the Chief Super sticks to the book. Ted teases Taffy by calling him a 'Scab' (Taffy had swerved the uniform group staring silently at him and moved to sit alone before Ted spoke) and asks what happened. Taffy sighs and admits that each time he opened his mouth he seemed to drop Jim further in it. Charles had asked if Jim had ever mentioned being short of money. "Oh god..." Mike sighs.

Higgins is annoyed at being called in too as he wants nothing to do with it. "It's not going to do my career any good." "Right born leader of men you are." June drawls. Roy asks Bob how things are going and Bob admits the Super thinks Lampton is trying it on. As they chat an elderly lady makes a fuss at the front desk. Bob asks her to wait and then when she continues to complain he asks Higgins to deal with her. Lucky for Jim she's very honest. She's handing in Lampton's wallet! Bob has to pay up on the bet after Roy cracked the case in well under a fortnight. However, instead of keeping the money, Roy hands it to Jim and tells him to create a hamper of food for the lady who handed the wallet in. "She won't get a reward from Lampton will she and she's not got two pennies to rub together." Bob is absolutely gobsmacked at Roy's generosity. "I never thought I'd see the day, Detective Inspector Roy Galloway - Social Worker?" "Oh piss off!" Roy scoffs and hurries to the safety of his office.

[avid-miscellanea]

Local farm haul featuring Merlin, our quality assurance inspector! Two ears of corn, a jar of house-made blackberry jam, radishes, one plum, one heirloom tomato, one peach, one nectarine, raspberries (that literally taste like fresh air and sunshine), and strawberries. (We also got an avocado but that's not in the pic because we're in zone 6 so it was obviously not local lol). $29 for all of that and the food miles from where everything but the avocado was grown to our home was about 4. Anyway support your local farms and farmers markets

[artzychic27]

Morning! And I love Mom!Bustier. But consider this; Caline is Nathanial’s mom, but in the SB&IB AU.

Got any ideas or scenarios for that?

Let's see...

We're not killing off the lesbian and pansexual, because there have been enough queer deaths in this lifetime.

Let's make Nathaniel a bullying target at school

Here, Caline Kurtzberg-Bustier is trying her hardest to help her son, but with that asshole in office threatening to get her fired and blacklisted through Damocles, she can't do much because she loves teaching

And it's her only job experience

Nathaniel's been Chloé's bullying target since they were three because she saw him as easier to mess with than Marinette

And because of his antisocial nature, this makes him bait for other bullies, mainly the kids with influential parents who threaten his mother's job by complaining to Damocles about her physically abusing them in class

To them, it's easy to pick on someone who won't/can't do or say anything... Bastard cowards.

His classmates don't do anything because they don't feel like fighting with those students and he assures them that it's okay, and they believe him.

They don't feel like terrible, horrible people every time he comes in looking like hell because he didn't get enough sleep because some asshole jock forced him to do his math homework

And Alix and Marinette aren't there to help out because Chloé pulled some strings to get them sent to a dormitory school for troubled teenagers after they assaulted her for pouring juice on Nathaniel when they were ten

Now no one has the courage to stand up for Nathaniel, not even going so far as to talk to him. He just blends into the back drawing, and when he gets home, he cries into his pillow

Then one weekend, he's out shopping for art supplies when he spies two things in the display window of a thrift store. They are simple brooches. Still, he buys them

He puts them on, Nooroo and Duusu appear and gives the run-down once Nathaniel has stopped panicking

Nathaniel is thrilled because finally, something good in his life has happened, now he has friends to talk to, and he has powers... However, good things don't last

On Monday, Mme. Bustier, sleep deprived and stressed admonishes Chloé in front of the entire school for having Sabrina do her homework, and in turn, Chloé has Damocles fire her. However, many of the teachers threaten to quit, so Damocles suspends her for a month without pay

And to make matters worse, some assholes post bad reviews about Aya's diner and it causes a health inspector to come. It's going to take a while before people can trust the food again

Finally having enough, Nathaniel snaps and disregards the Kwamis words about how the Miraculous is not to be used for evil. Nathaniel, still angry, forces them to stay silent as he transforms into Blue Emperor

Nathaniel is quick to create a senticreature to destroy the home of one of his tormentors, and when the deed is done, he can't bare the thought of destroying his creation, so he stores it in his fan

The sentimonster catches the attention of one Wang Fu, so he passes the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous along to... Let's say... Reshma and Ismael, cuz why not? Plus, no love square.

Blue Emperor only becomes more brutal with his attacks when Spotted Threat and Catra make their appearance. Also, he needs to take his anger from school out on something

Keep in mind, Blue Emperor doesn't hurt anyone younger than him (15)

And while his mothers are still temporarily out of work, Nathaniel decides to be of some assistance and has his senticreatures rob Chloé. He tells his moms the money came from art commissions, and he just loves how that put smiles on their faces. But he's only just getting started

He sends his previous senticreatures and an Akuma to storm city hall (I know, poor choice of words) and gives the mayor an ultimatum. Resign, or he will burn the building to the ground

Spotted Threat and Catra arrive on the scene and purify his Akuma, but in the process of Blue Emperor getting his senticreaures to safety, they purify one in the process, basically killing it in his eyes

So, now it's personal

Ever since the death of his senticreature, Nathaniel's been more withdrawn than usual, worrying his mothers. At school, his mood becomes worse when one of his bullies decides to take his anger out on him after he was targeted by a senticreature

And once again, Nathaniel snapped, gave the guy a verbal lashing that was like a psychological attack, and got detention. Little did he know, this got the attention of one impressed writer

So, after serving out his detention, Blue Emperor decides to have a sentimonster pay Damocles a visit. And if people are suspicious, he'll just put on a meek demeanor like, "But how could I have done that? I don't have powers or the money to pay anyone."

One day, when he hears Nathaniel didn't come to school today, Marc offers to drop off his homework. It'll give them a chance to talk, and maybe he can apologize for being a bystander for so many years

But when he walks into Nathaniel's room, he doesn't expect to find him talking to two colorful sprites about him being Blue Emperor!

Marc panics and is about to run and tell someone, but,

Nathaniel: Marc... I am nothing but a loving son trying to help his mothers while also teaching certain people a lesson or two. Besides, you know they deserve what I've done- The Mayor, Damocles, Chloé, all of them.

Marc: ... You're hurting people.

Nathaniel: It's best not to think of them as people. Besides, I make sure my Akumas and senticreatures don't hurt any civilians. They've done nothing to wrong me, so I have no reason to harm them. So... You can run out that door, tell people what I'm doing, and leave my mothers sobbing and wondering where they went wrong as the city treats them as pariahs. Or, we can make this our little secret. Besides, I could use some help taking care of my senticreatures... So?

Marc: ... Nobody needs to know.

It was close to the middle of the school year when Marc, Nooroo, and Duusu start to become more concerned about Nathaniel. The Kwamis explain that overuse of the Miraculous combined with Nathaniel's mental state has corrupted him

He becomes braver, fights back more, physically stronger, and even his appearance as Blue Emperor changes a bit. He uses his abilities to read people's emotions to his advantage and tortures his bullies so they're too scared to report him

Having seen enough, Marc resorts to taking the Kwamis and running but only manages to get Duusu before Nathaniel transforms, this time into his fully corrupted form and he proceeds to make an army of Akumas to ravage Paris

... Did I just make a whole-ass au?... I did.