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Blessing in Memory by JForward
Fandoms: Shoot From The Hip Sketches, The Detective v The Xmas Tree Bandits - Shoot From The Hip Sketch
01 Jan 2026
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Summary
It's Christmas.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 415
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 30
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And all I loved, I loved alone by JForward
Fandoms: Shoot From The Hip Sketches, Roll From the Hip (Web Series)
14 Dec 2025
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After losing Poe, everything gets too much for Edgar. His mind is crushing him. Hiding away, isolating himself, he falls back into... an awful habit.
Mind the tags.
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Petrichor and Vitriol by JForward
Fandoms: Shoot From The Hip Sketches, Never Give Annabelle A Gun - Shoot From The Hip Sketch
06 Dec 2025
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Mr Parker goes away to market for the day; a storm is rolling in; Annabelle lets her worries get the best of her, but maybe it's a good thing she did.
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Poe won't let him sleep. But it's fine. He's used to it.
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This is not what I stand for by JForward
Fandoms: The Creak In The Attic - Shoot From The Hip Sketch, Shoot From The Hip - Fandom, SFTH - Fandom
07 Jul 2025
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A thunderstorm wracks the house late one night. Jonathan Hobson Sr handles it about as well as he can.
Mind the tags on this one!
Technically a companion piece to Save me the Ache of Slow Decay but can absolutely be read independently. Set after Creak but not by much.
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Save Me the Ache of Slow Decay by JForward
Fandoms: Shoot From The Hip - Fandom, The Creak In The Attic - Shoot From The Hip Sketch
28 Jun 2025
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What happened in the time between Jim dying and Junior finding him in the attic.
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Let The Fireflies Come by JForward
Fandoms: Never Give Annabelle A Gun - Shoot From The Hip Sketch, SFTH - Fandom, Shoot From The Hip - Fandom
26 Jun 2025
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Summary
... we're at the stage in my life where I'm writing fanfic for a sketch done by an improv comedy group, huh?
Directly post Never Give Annabelle A Gun - some aftermath from the torture Butch went through.
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Gortash and Lordling (the Dark Urge) are not unused to each other's bodies.
Except, maybe the Lordling is hiding something more than they're letting on...
aka. dragonborn durge goes into heat and, well, the Edict of Bane is like, RIGHT THERE, so, y'know...
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A nice Chicago day. Two brothers, eating a meal at a nice café. Thinking about when they were kids. Not thinking about guns. Not thinking about the danger they were all in. Not thinking about how his chest feels tight and he can't quite breathe --
aka. Will has a panic attack in front of Jay. Set any season after 5.
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Dr Charles finds Will, curled up in the back of the doctor's lounge, struggling for air and clutching his chest. And, well, he wouldn't be doing his due dilligence if he didn't make sure there was nothing more to it, now would he?
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I can never resist writing a good werewolf fic, what can I say!
But Ted Lasso, stood in Rebecca's office, one hand pressed hard to his mouth, witnessed it. From far, far away, the squirming form missed the finer details, but it was unmistakable. The blood spattering across the field as the beast fell and twisted, Roy Kent a bubbling mass of crackling limbs, and then the fur sprouting over muscles, and finally something entirely different in his stead. Dark fur coated it's whole form, rippling into more titanium or copper colours in places. Ears at the top of it's head, a stubby tail, and mostly a shape that was so jarringly neither human nor animal that it rose a kind of bile in the back of Ted's throat.
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"Jamie? Jamie! Oh, no - Jamie - Jamie -" someone calling to him, perhaps across the great expanse, a distant island. He would get there in time, or maybe he would be swept out to the depths, carried away, with just the comfort of freedom. The whole world, available for him to drift across. Prisms of light skittered, through the glass - no - the gems - such beauty, right in front of his face, like a watch he'd never actually worn, because it had always seemed too nice. Agony exploded across his side, wrenching him from his peace, white light rushing over him, water cascading up and taking him down, down, down...
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An interlude scene from Mom City! Lots of spoilers, obviously <3
Set in that scene cut between Keeley talking to Jamie, him collapsing, and him being at the movie later.
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Title from 'Neglected Space' by Imogen Heap which is a very Jamie song.
"Mate, I just wanted to say that like... I'm well sorry. I were a huge - fuckin' prick, and like, I'm so... fuckin' useless. I've not been useful for ages, like. But I know you - you got Sam, and Dani, and you're all... you're great, they're great, wi'out me. An' thass... thass good, right? I'm... sorry I'm shit, I'm sorry I've been such a useless, fuckin' player -"
With every word, slightly slurred and off-balance, Ted felt his heart sink further and further down, past his stomach, settling somewhere in his navel. It thumped over-fast, now, as he cut Jamie off.
"Now, why would you go thinkin' a thing like that for, son? Come on, now, you've never played better -"
"Sorry, gaff, nah, that's bullshit," Jamie mumbled into the phone. "I'm just fuckin' worthless..."
"Jamie," and Ted dropped his voice, soft and concerned, desperate to keep Jamie on the line. "Have you been drinking?"
"Um, yeah, yeah, I've had a... a few..."
"Have you taken anything else?" the silence held, just the slightly thick breathing on the other end. "Jamie, buddy. Have you taken anything else?"With a soft click, the line went dead.
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"You have to maintain your weight to be at your best, Jamie, remember." she said, "If you need any help maintaining that calorie count - for any reason - you can reach out. Am I clear?"
"Yes boss, crystal." and he gives her a mock salute, waits until he's nearly out of the building, then balls them up in his fist and throws them into the bin without a glance at what they actually say.Since he's been an adult, Jamie's life is based in control. First it was just the control to do whatever he wanted, away from his dad, but now control is coming down to the smaller things. Like his portion size.
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A companion piece to my other fic, There's a burden to your energy. Can be read seperately!
Access to Jamie's doorbell camera on the night that his father assaulted him.Please read the tags.
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Title is from 'I'm Fantastic' by Paper Idol.
Inspired by the brilliant Better Angels which I re-read again today and this plot bunny stuck itself in my head. Especially the line, 'how many times has he played hurt'.He tries to hide the bruises, but there isn't much he can do against the prying eyes of people who care.
Jamie's father is determined to make his mark
By any means necessary. -
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"Get out of the fucking way!" was that Roy? The pitch was surprisingly quiet. It felt like hours had passed since he'd hit the ground, and yet everyone was still there, most of West Ham having finally stopped their argument and started sloping off towards the changing rooms - but Roy's shout froze everyone, scrambling to move as Jamie was being manouevered towards the edge of the pitch. There was this strange, high pitched squeaky, creaking noise, like a wardrobe door hinge about to snap, and it took Jamie a few long steps to realise that it was his throat making it. That was fucking embarrassing, he hoped his dad wasn't here to see this.
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TWO CAKES PHILOSOPHY BABEY
"Bringing it up now. It looks like Zenara knew he was going for a dirty tackle there, he had too much momentum to stop - or I'm sure that's what he's saying to the ref now - but Jamie took a hell of a blow."
"That'll surely effect Zevara's rating going forward, but mostly I'm worried about Tartt. Is he getting up?"
"He's not getting up. Medical staff moving onto the pitch now -" -
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I'm taking the two cakes philosophy and running with it.
Jamie's been off his game for a few days, but when he collapses on the pitch, it's all hands on deck.