@fireinmywoods / fireinmywoods.tumblr.com
A collection of moments that never happened in the smoke in every lane verse.
McKirk, teen, ~13,000 words. Warnings listed in the beginning notes of each part. Now complete!
TREMENDOUS spoilers for smoke in every lane - please, please read the main story first before even poking your nose into this one.
Also, please check out this incredible art by @handwrittenhello and show it the love it deserves. (Spoilers for Part 1.)
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
One last moment that never happened. Teen, ~4k.
MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SMOKE IN EVERY LANE. Please read the main story first.
Part 3: [read on AO3]
Or start at the beginning: [read on AO3]
“Enterprise to Kirk,” Scotty repeats. “Do you copy? Captain?”
A different moment that never happened. Teen, ~4k.
MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SMOKE IN EVERY LANE. Please read the main story first.
Part 2: [read on AO3]
Or start with Part 1: [read on AO3]
“Where the hell are you?”
“Kinda busy right now,” Jim says, his voice tinny over the comm channel, crackling with static. “Can we save the yelling for later? Pretty sure it’ll keep till after none of us are being hunted for sport.”
The moments that never happened. Teen, ~5k.
MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SMOKE IN EVERY LANE. Please read the main story first.
It’s deep into gamma; he hardly saw a soul on his trek up from the shuttlebay. Jim must have forgotten to order the lights off when he headed to bed.
In which Leonard comes home. Teen, ~5k words.
As always, spoilers for palimpsest. Please please please read that first!
His head hurts. Everything hurts, one single uninterrupted ache of tension locking him up all the way from his clenched jaw to his cramping feet.
An interlude between Chapters 4 and 5 of smoke in every lane, for which this fic contains huge whopping story-ruining spoilers. I’m BEGGING you to read the main fic first if you haven’t already.
The fourth of seven short(...ish) fics in the palimpsest verse. As usual, these stories jump all over the timeline and contain spoilers for palimpsest, so please PLEASE read that first.
PART 4: It’s been nearly an hour. He should be here by now. In which Jim is late and Leonard has had a bad day. Mature, ~13k words.
[PART 4]
Here Jim’s spent years assuming that he must have gotten the short end of the karmic stick, when it turns out the trade-off for slogging through all that shit was hitting the existential jackpot with Bones.
In which Jim has never been happier - so, obviously, he’s freaking out. Mature, ~18.5k words.
Massive, massive spoilers for palimpsest. PLEASE READ PALIMPSEST FIRST.
Do Jim and Bones bother making New Year resolutions? And who breaks them first? 😆
They actually prefer to draft New Year’s resolutions on each other’s behalf. Like so:
I resolve to stop interrupting punches aimed at other people with my face.
I resolve to let my husband who is a grown adult and also my BOSS decide for himself how much pizza is appropriate to eat.
I resolve not to rupture any internal organs.
I resolve to stop siccing Lieutenant Chapel and her ice robot hands on innocent patients just because they’re a little tiny barely noticeable seven-and-a-half-months late for their annual.
I resolve to keep all my teeth firmly rooted in my jaws where they belong.
I resolve to wear that green sweater more.
Whenever you (gleefully) describe Jim's octopus-like sleeping preferences, we often see Bones complaining about how hard it is to escape when he has to pee. But how often is he getting up to pee in the night? Does he need to get this checked out, or is he really just an old man in body AND spirit?
I actually went back and fact-checked myself on this, wondering what exactly I’ve been communicating about poor Leonard’s urological health! It is indeed established in septenary that Leonard sometimes needs to get up to pee at night and that Jim makes this exceedingly difficult, but the phrasing leaves the frequency of these incidents rather open to interpretation, so allow me to clarify that it was intended to imply that this might happen at most once a night, and not necessarily every night.
In Leonard’s defense (and, frankly, my own), it's not abnormal to sometimes need to get up to pee once during the night, especially if you’re of a certain age and keep yourself well hydrated, and especially if, like Leonard and Jim, you're in the habit of frequently having a drink or two before bed. (Alcohol is a diuretic, meaning it makes you have to pee more, and as a health professional who works on sleep hygiene I feel obligated to advise you that it also disrupts REM sleep and overall negatively impacts your sleep quality and how rested you feel the next day.)
Now, it may not seem like getting up just once per night would be such an onerous task, but consider this:
“Jim.”
Jim shifts a little, snuggling up even closer in his drink-sleepy stupor against Leonard’s back.
“Jim.”
“Hrm,” Jim says, in what could generously be interpreted as some form of answer.
Luckily for him, Leonard’s inclined to be generous tonight. But he does still need help in this final stretch of getting Jim home. “What’s your door code?”
Hey, so I’m getting ready to move across the county in about 2 weeks and I apparently am projecting my anxiety onto Bones. I’m sure we’ll both be fine. But uh…holy fuck y’all. I ain’t ready.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Bones - ”
“Don’t,” Leonard says sharply, pointing a finger in Jim’s pleading big-eyed face. The brass balls on this kid, trying to work him with those obnoxious puppy eyes and the wheedling tone he always pulls out when he’s after something Leonard’s none too inclined to give. Normally, though, it’s something fairly trivial: chicken fingers for dinner, a turn around the bass-thumping dance floor of the club he’s dragged them to, a few hours off his stay in medbay if he promises to go straight to their quarters and put himself to bed like a good little captain who’s learned a valuable lesson about disruptive camouflage among marine fauna on Plekki VII.
But this - this is beyond the goddamn pale, and Jim knows it. And yet he’s still staring imploringly at Leonard, all faux innocence and strategically fluttery lashes, his eyes going a little crossed as he switches his focus from Leonard’s face to his finger in a way that makes him look goofy and harmless and a thousand other things they both know damn well he’s not.
“Bones,” he tries again, and Leonard claps his hand right over that silver-tongued mouth to quiet it, because otherwise the next words out will be I just want to share this with you or don’t you trust me to keep you safe or some other such artfully guileless horseshit crafted to tug at Leonard’s heartstrings and dupe him into getting onto the back of Jim’s shiny purring death machine.
What he’s failed to account for, however, is how, having been effectively gagged, Jim is now free to turn his full attention to channeling pure beseeching devotion through his eyes.
“Stop that,” Leonard snaps.
Jim blinks, slow and calculated. He’s obnoxiously pretty in this light, his skin warmed to a rosy peach by the setting sun, his eyes as blue and boundless as the wide darkening sky behind him. Leonard should look away, at the ground or the corn or the idling motorcycle that Jim is so keen on using to deliver their organs to the nearest trauma ward, at anything other than the sunlit lashes and radiantly adoring face of the man who loves him so wholly and utterly and without the slightest hint of reserve - this man who loves him wildly, insanely, because it’s the only way he knows how to do anything, because all those years he spent chasing an early end around this placid empty countryside on a bike like this one he could never outrun his desperate aching hunger to be going toward someone, with someone -
“One ride,” he says, and feels Jim’s lips curve into a smile under his hand. “Back roads only. Nice and slow - don’t even think about breaking 50. No daredevil shit. And if you get your fool self killed, you’d damn well better take me with you, you understand me?”
“Mrflrgle,” Jim promises, unintelligible and sincere, and kisses sweetly into Leonard’s palm before tugging away and shifting his weight to brace the bike so that Leonard can - God help him - climb on behind.
Even with Leonard’s head start, Jim is the one who goes visibly gray first.
In which Jim ages gracefully, for the most part. (A.K.A., another response to the remarkably efficacious anon prompt of how Leonard and Jim react to seeing their first gray hairs.) Teen, 1000 words on the nose.
No real spoilers for palimpsest this time, but as always, I recommend starting there.
When a diplomatic mission goes to hell on some stormy backwater of a non-Federation planet, Leonard is left searching for answers.
McKirk, mature, ~88,000 words. Warnings listed in the beginning notes of each chapter where relevant. Now complete!
And some amazing art!
Christine and Leonard by @animetrashmuffin (spoilers for Chapter 1)
Leonard at the xyrta by @jimbotkirk (spoilers for Chapter 1)
A whole-ass gorgeous BOOK made by @excavatinglizard with their own hands!!!!
This SPOILERY and absolutely stunning piece by @storietellers (spoilers for the whole fic - please don’t peek until you’ve finished Chapter 13, at which time you should look at it IMMEDIATELY!)
When a diplomatic mission goes to hell on some stormy backwater of a non-Federation planet, Leonard is left searching for answers.
Chapter warnings are in the beginning notes on AO3. Mature,~14,000 words.
Masterpost coming shortly!
Just joining us? [start from the beginning]
When a diplomatic mission goes to hell on some stormy backwater of a non-Federation planet, Leonard is left searching for answers.
Chapter warnings are in the beginning notes on AO3. Mature,~5,300 words.
This fic is complete on my end and will be updated every weekend.
Just joining us? [start from the beginning]
When a diplomatic mission goes to hell on some stormy backwater of a non-Federation planet, Leonard is left searching for answers.
Chapter warnings are in the beginning notes on AO3. Mature, ~6,200 words.
This fic is complete on my end and will be updated every weekend.
Just joining us? [start from the beginning]
