#or when graham goes 'or is it downstairs?'

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

why are like the last bits of previous adventures or throwaway lines about previous adventures always the most interesting parts of episodes

[so-much-for-stardust6]

I Will Never Forget You- Graham Coxon

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summary: it’s the last day before graham goes on tour so you spend the day together.

lowercase intended

warnings: none

a/n: this feels so rushed and quick and i kinda hate it but 😭😭

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today was the day i dreaded, the last day before graham leaves for tour. it’s his band’s tour and the thought of him being gone for so long leaves a hollow pain in my chest. i want to stay inside and sulk all day but graham and i have plans. we were going out around town and just do whatever we see. i get up and saunter around my room, grabbing my clothes and putting them on. i knew i couldn’t be in a grumpy mood when hanging out with graham, so i grabbed the picture book he gave me for our 2 year anniversary and flipped through the pages. i smile at the memories, remembering each one so clearly. my eyes land on a certain photo, our prom photo. he stood there in his light blue suit, matching my blue dress of course, awkwardly side hugging me. i wore a bright smile on my face, so happy that he was my prom date.

it was our first prom together, our first date you would say. he was pushed by his friends to finally ask me to prom, a week before the dance. he was a nervous wreck, very prominently showing in the picture. i giggle at the memory of the rest of the night, slow dancing and breaking him out his shell. my eyes then look at the next picture, a picture i took of him. he was smiling with his teeth, sitting on a picnic blanket with all sorts of food sorted out in front of him. it was our 1 year anniversary and we decided to have a little picnic.

~flashback~

“come on, graham!” i laugh out, running up the hill.

“we’ve been searching for the perfect spot forever, love!” he groaned out.

“it’s only been 5 minutes, gra.”

“that’s 5 minutes too long.”

i finally reach the top of the hill, placing down the blanket i brought smoothly on the ground.

graham eventually reached me at the hill. he dropped the basket on the ground and flopped onto the blanket.

“this feels so good.” the sun shining softly onto his face.

“you’ll feel so good in a second, love.” i say, rubbing his arm.

“oh yeah? what’d you have in mind.” he smirks.

“i’m talking about eating, graham!” i exclaim at his dirty mind.

“yeah, yeah! that’s-that’s what i’m totally thinking about!”

i pull out all the foods i prepared, mostly sweet treats and such. graham dipped some strawberries into the homemade chocolate dip.

“you look so cute, dear! let me take a picture!” i squeal out, standing up with my camera.

“wait until i’m done chewing, love!” he mumbles out, hiding his face with his hand.

“say cheese!”

he gulps his food before smiling bright. i snap the pic, blushing at his beautiful face.

“you’re so pretty, my love.” i sit next to him.

“why thank you, baby.” he kisses my cheek.

“i really mean it, gra.” i start kissing all over his face.

my lipstick staining his soft skin. he starts to giggle, trying to get me off of him. once i was done attacking him in kisses, i pull out my camera once again to snap a pic.

~end of flashback~

i slightly jumped at the ring of a doorbell. i smile knowing it’s graham. i shut the book and place it back in my drawer. i grab my coat and rush downstairs, swinging the door open to see my lovely boyfriend. he was holding a bouquet of flowers, nervously shuffling as i looked at him.

“oh graham, these are absolutely lovely!” i grab them, sniffing them.

i motion him to follow me inside as i put them in a vase.

“i was thinking we would go to the shops, look around and possibly get some lunch out there.” he speaks up.

“i’d love that. anything with you is the best.” i go up to him, kissing his lips.

“you ready? let’s go.” i take his hand and lead us outside.

he drives towards the busy-ish streets as people walked with bags in their hands.

“let’s hit the record store first, i’ve been meaning to get my hands on a queen album.”

“anything for you.” he places his hand on my thigh, squeezing it gently.

after finding a parking spot and getting out, we walked into the record store. the smell was something i’d always love, having a special place in my heart. i walk towards the section where queen would be, looking for news of the world.

“do you see what you’re looking for, darling?”

“not at all, which is weird.”

“what album is it, i’ll help look.”

“news of the world.”

he nods his head and takes off to look for the album. i kept searching for 5 more minutes until graham approaches me, bag in hand.

“found it, love.” he smiles, handing me the bag.

“graham, i was gonna buy it. you didn’t need to pay.”

“today i get to spoil you, love.” he goes to hug me.

i accept his hug, taking in his warm scent.

“you hungry, dear?” i ask in a small whisper.

“mhm.” he nods.

“let’s go find something, my treat.”

“what did i say?”

“no no, i get to spoil you too.” i pull away from the hug, grabbing his hand to take him out the store.

we find this small and cozy lunch spot, not waiting long to get seated.

“what are you thinking of getting?” he asks, looking at the menu.

“hmm, maybe a burger. what about you?”

“i’m craving some soup. obviously your soup, but this can do.”

“i’ll make you some soup soon, love! whenever we go on our date.” i smile.

“oh, that’ll be a long time.”

my smile falls as i remember that he’s leaving tomorrow.

“hey, don’t be sad. i’ll call you whenever i can and i’ll send letters all the time.” he grabs my hands, rubbing them for reassurance.

“i know, i know but-i’ll miss you. i know it’s silly for me to be sad but i-i love you so much.” i say, voice cracking.

“please don’t cry, love. i’ll miss you so much too. you could always come with us, but i understand you have work.”

i nod and sniffle, wiping my eyes once i see the waitress heading our way. after lunch, we decided to catch a random movie to kill time.

~fast forwards to back home~

“do you wanna come inside?”

“yeah, of course.”

we make our way to my room, a place he’s very familiar with. we change into something more comfortable, sitting on my bed.

“so, i was looking at our photo album earlier. we should take photos more often, love.”

“we need to buy you a new camera first.” he chuckled.

“damon owes me one! dummy broke it while trying to ‘fix’ it.”

“i’ll remind him tomorrow. can you bring out the book?”

“it’s in my drawer, dear.”

he reaches over and pulls it out, smiling at the little pictures littered on the cover.

“oh god, this picture is horrible!” he points out the prom picture.

“no it’s not!”

“i’m gonna miss being around you.” he blurts out, voice quivering.

“oh gra, don’t cry.” i pull him close, resting his head on my shoulder.

“i might just stay back. i-i can’t go.” he mumbles.

“what? you’re crazy, graham. you’re going.”

“you want me to?”

“i’ll miss you like crazy but this is a dream for you. you’ll be playing music for so many people who love your music. i’m so proud of what you’ve done, so you have to go.” i kiss his nose.

“i have to get used to this, i’ll be touring lots more.” he pulls away, looking at me.

“do me one thing though.” he says.

“what’s that, baby?”

“please don’t forget me.”

his words break my heart, tears immediately welling up in my eyes.

“oh gra, i will NEVER forget you. i love you too much to ever forget you. i’ll always answer your calls and always write back. you’ll forever be in my heart and on my mind.”

he sadly smiles, going back to hug me.

“i will never forget you.” i whisper again.

[littlespacereader]

Caregiver! Will Graham Headcannons (SFW)

After writing my Hannibal Lector Headcannon I couldn’t resist writing a Will Graham one. Next will be one for the both of them as a Caregiver couple! And possibly another fic👀

Mentions - bottles, pacifiers, diapers, anxiety, and nightmares.

Will isn’t really a social person, he’s a bit more reserved with his little one and would rather do activities in and around his house than to go out to parties and such.

Will LOVES to play in the backyard of his house with his little one, whether that be a game of tag, hide and seek or the two of them running around with his dogs.

Will and his little one go on long walks in the woods around his house. They play a game called explorer where he’s the leader of their expedition and his little one will find different things in the forest (rocks, sticks, etc) and hand them to him. He always makes the biggest deal when they “discover” something. “Wow you found this rock? This looks to me to be a very rare type of rock. Great good explorer! I’m so proud!”

Will is all for make believe games! You want to play restaurant? Will is your waiter! You want to play cops and robbers? Well now he’s a police officer chasing after you! He adores your imagination.

He loves to go fishing at the stream. Fishing might not be his little one’s favorite activity, but he doesn’t mind them splashing in the lake next to him.

Similar to Hannibal, Will is completely open with whatever his little one wants or needs to regress. Whether that be pacifiers, diapers or bottles. He is completely fine with anything and everything. Anything and everything to make sure his little one is happy and comfortable.

On the weekend they have a special movie night traditional of making a pillow fort with the couch cushions. Will sets the whole thing up, putting sheets over the top as a roof and setting their sleeping bags underneath. Then Will, his little one and all their dogs crawl under and watch movies till they all fall asleep.

On normal nights, Will prefers to sleep with his little one right next to him. He struggles with anxiety and abandonment. The thought of something happening to his little one if they were sleeping upstairs scares him tremendously. So he lets his little one sleep downstairs in his bed with him.

He makes a them a warm bottle and cuddles them under one arm as he reads a bedtime story. His little one always rest their head on his shoulder watching the pages turn and turn…… until they eventually fall asleep cuddling close to Will.

Will is SUCH a cuddly guy! He loves to cuddle up with his little one all the time. Whether it be sitting together he’s got his arm around their shoulders, or sleeping at night he’s got one arms wrapped around them for protection or even just playing tag he will pick his little one up and throw them over his shoulder. “Huh…where did Y/N go? I thought I grab them but now I don’t see them?” All while you’re giggling away on his shoulder.

He LOVES to hold his little ones hand. It goes back to his overprotectiveness over his little one. It’s security to make sure they’re okay and security for him knowing you’re always right beside him incase anything goes wrong.

If you have a nightmare Will is extremely compassionate and comforting. As someone who goes through terrible nightmares himself he knows just how to calm them down and comfort them. He picks them up and walks around the room rubbing their back and rocking them in his arms. All while his dogs look on worried.

Will barley has any rules. He prefers a free spirited little one running around the house with his dogs.

Since your stuffies mean a lot to you, they mean a lot to Will. He knows all their names and he always talk to them as if they’re a person. “Y/N do you want a snack? Okay, what about fluffy? Does he want a snack too?”

Will is the type of Caregiver to answer a fake phone if his little one hands it to him. “Please excuse me one second. *picks up fake phone little one hands him* Hello? What?! Really? But…but how did this happen?! Well I’ll have to let you talk to a professional about this. *hands the phone back* I think you’re best suited to handle this Y/N.”

While Will is a bit reserved with his little one meeting anyone, he does participates in “bring your little one to work day”. So Will dons his Professor jacket, glasses and brief cases and brings you along to the FBI academy. (Definitely writing a fic on this😁) Everyone makes the biggest deal over you!

When Will starts dating Hannibal it takes a while before he invites him to meet his little one. Will wants to make sure he trust him enough to be around his little one. (Hannibal adores Will’s little one just as much as he adores Will)

Jack and Alana are two of the few people (besides Hannibal) that Will is comfortable hanging out with along with his little one. Uncle Jack is so much fun!! He always sneaks you candy when Will’s back is to you both. And Aunt Alana always plays along with any game you’re playing.

When Hannibal takes Will and his little one to fancy dinner parties and museums it starts to get to his free spirited little one. So Will turns it into a game, playing eye spy or can you spot it. That way they aren’t restless. Hannibal adores the game too and will often join in the fun.

At the end of the day, Will’s little one does just as much for him as he does for them. He’s a bit of a loner but that all changes when he has a little one in his life. They open his lonely heart up and show him he’s truly meant to be a Caregiver. They become his world. 

[desired-misery]

RE4R WIP | Leon POV

...

His skin crawls a fraction of a second before the man staggers down the stairs— head still twisted on a broken neck, hands clawing at the air—

“No fucking way!” He backpedals for space and time, heart jumping in his chest. 

Leon’s first shot flies high as the man— the thing— lurches with an unnatural gait. Adrenaline makes his hands shake. He retreats. He needs a second to steady himself; his second shot lands central mass, but the man keeps advancing. Cursing himself for allowing panic to control him, Leon sucks in a breath and follows up with a headshot. The man stumbles. Leon shoots until it goes down— swearing when it collapses after taking too many shots to the head.

He forces himself to slow down his breathing. He cannot afford an unsteady aim with only four shots left. Leon looks down at the man. Dread crawls up his spine as he observes the pulpy mess the .45 rounds made of the man's skull and brain. Blood oozes from everywhere, the planes of the man's face broken and shattered, teeth blown to bits, features punched with holes. 

“This just keeps getting worse,” he mutters and nudges it with his toe.  But the bleeding stops without a beating heart, which Leon fucking hopes to god means it won't be getting up for a third time. He only has five rounds left after spending six on one opponent. He scolds himself for freaking out. He is damn lucky it didn't get him killed—

Voices yelling down the hallway upstairs prompts Leon to crouch. He inches the basement door open in time to see the shadow of a man pass. A voice deeper inside the house yells something that Leon is pretty sure means 'where is he?’ to his friends. Shit.

If these men are the same as the first guy, Leon doesn't have enough rounds to kill them. He needs to contact Hunnigan as soon as he is clear of imminent danger. He sneaks to the second floor, thankful the old wooden floor doesn't squeak too loudly under his weight. The men downstairs are louder as they talk to one another and pace through the house. Leon quickens his steps and enters the only room up here. Armed with his knife in one hand and gun in the other.

Empty. He straightens and locks the door behind him with an old fashioned bolt. When his eyes flicker around the room again, he is drawn to papers plastered above a desk. He takes in the hand drawn map of a village on the lake with a quick scan, until he recognizes the orange jacket in the photograph pinned above the lake.

Ashley Graham, lying on the floor, hands and face obscured. Leon taps his earpiece.

...

[saints-who-never-existed]

Episode Three: Random Rewatch Observations

1. Sergeant Bryant mocks George Chambers for being startled by the sound of the ice when he himself is shown in his hammock in Episode One looking visibly disturbed by the same sounds. Bloody hypocrite.

2. Hartnell actually looks quite wary and unsure to me when he comes to collect Silna’s father’s things – does he just feel guilty for what’s happened, I wonder, or is he perhaps uncomfortable with death-related things after losing his brother? Or am I just reading too much into things?

3. There’s what looks like a rope ladder going down into the fire hole in the ice when they put Silna’s father down there, but it’s gone when Sir John goes down. Fitting and likely symbolic, given the episode title, I suppose - something about hubris and entering somewhere you can’t get back from.

4. An obvious one but they still set out a plate for Lt. Gore. Heart-breaking stuff!

5. Honestly, I’m here for Sir John most in the scene when he’s berating Crozier. Crozier’s first instinct when it starts seems to be to advance into Franklin’s little office nook, almost as if he’s trying to intimidate him, but Franklin drives him straight back out again. There’s a toughness to him that you don’t see anywhere else and everything he’s saying about Crozier is right. Even when Sir John and Fitzjames are alone together he still puts on the guise of benevolent father figure – it’s so interesting to me that Crozier seems to be the only one that gets to see that other side of him, that Crozier is the only one we see Sir John drop the act for. They truly see one another for who they really are.

7. “Our boy, Graham”. God he really does look on him as a son, doesn’t he?

8. Lovely little upstairs-downstairs scene between Messrs Diggle and Wall, echoing Crozier and Franklin. One man identifying an issue and wanting to find a solution, the other stonewalling him in response.

9. That line about the ship’s cat being more use as a small pillow is objectively hilarious to me.

[bitter69uk]

“A man from nowhere … a woman with nowhere to go … try to forget their pasts in exciting, exotic Macao, port of sin and shady dealings!” 

On 16 February the Lobotomy Room film club (motto: Bad Movies for Bad People) whisks you away to the steamy Portuguese colony of Macao for this sordid noir thriller! Sure, the Times’ critic reportedly dismissed Macao as “melodramatic junk”, but I side with deviant queer film scholar Boyd McDonald, who concluded “Macao is, arguably, perfect.” 

Macao’s major selling point is the sullen dream duo of Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell, who effortlessly match other for tough wry humour and torpid impudence. As McDonald notes in his volume of essays Cruising the Movies (2015), “out of habit rather than anything in the script, the stars of Macao – and under their spell, the supporting players and extras – loiter about leering and sneering at each other, giving attitude. The attitude is one of contempt mixed with lust – an insolent craving, a concupiscent scorn … the players look as though they can’t stand the sight of each other, yet want to suck each other off … Russell, gifted with articulate nostrils and some slight imperfection in the nerves or muscles about her lips, is especially good at competitive sneering.” Seriously – how can you resist? 

Adding to the intrigue: temperamental veteran filmmaker Josef von Sternberg (the visionary behind all those great 1930s Marlene Dietrich films) was exhumed from semi-retirement to direct Macao but when preview audiences grumbled the film was too art-y and weird, an uncredited Nicholas Ray (of Johnny Guitar (1954) and Rebel without a Cause (1955) fame) was assigned to shoot additional scenes! Watch as well for bad girl Gloria Grahame in a supporting role! 

Lobotomy Room Goes to the Movies is the FREE monthly film club devoted to cinematic perversity! Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s bar in Dalston! Two drink minimum (inquire about the special offer £6 cocktail menu!). Numbers are limited, so reserving in advance via Fontaine’s website is essential. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar to avoid disappointment! The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered in time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest. Facebook event page. 

[mongoose-bite]

Lightning Country Chapter Sixteen

Grahame preceded Rath through the penthouse, leading her back downstairs. She cast one last glance at the chaos outside, ships scattering in all directions and the Evericus vanishing in the distance. Maybe they’d take Savona home by hearse.

To her disappointment, Grahame made no move to start searching Cromwell’s office then and there. Still stinging from his rebuke and feeling bad about the bruises she’d given him, she meekly followed him to the elevator without raising any objections.

He waited at the elevator door, his hands clasped behind his back.

It took Rath a few moments to realise what was expected of her, and she opened the elevator door for him and they both stepped inside. The controls were simple enough and Rath successfully took them down a floor to the office, the atmosphere between them strained and strange.

Read here.

What is Lightning Country? Rath is just kid from Lightning Country who grew up and made good as a professional assassin. When her boss goes rogue and makes off with a lightning-powered airship, she takes it upon herself to hunt him down, despite his fearsome skill and her little crush on the charismatic bastard.

Lightning Country is an enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, 1930′s-ish lightningpunk webnovel about feuding assassins. It updates on the first Monday of every month and can be read for free on Patreon, as can my entire original back catalogue.

[san-fics]

Felinette Drabbles

Feels Right

AVAILABLE in patreon.com/san_fics

COMING SOON (~2 month) on Ao3/Wattpad

Summary:

He gets dressed and goes downstairs, where the pleasant smell of fresh pastries and coffee wafts, and where his mother is already waiting for him in the dining room. He greets her and sits down at the table, closing his eyes for a moment and concentrating on the smell.

Marinette usually smells like this, but not every morning when she sits on her seat in front of him, chatting about something with Cesaire, but only on those days when she runs into the classroom at the last moment before the bell, and her face looks tired and exhausted after a sleepless night, and when he barely keeps himself from lecturing her about the importance of good sleep and the dangers of coffee for the nervous system at their age.

___

Felinette Felinette Fluff Felix Fathom Felix Feels Fluff Friends to Lovers Félix (PV) Félix Graham de Vanily Marinette Dupain-Cheng Miraculous Ladybug Oblivious Felix Pining Felix Pre-Relationship

Felinette Tag list (ask me to join)

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[anonofseasons]

Hey!! Can you do 1 and 5 for Vivian and 8 for El?

Sure! 1. What is the character’s go-to drink order? Vivian doesn't drink liquor much. He might be persuaded to share a single glass of wine with his husband, but he learned early on that alcohol and magic--as a precaution--are better off not mixed. So he's a tea drinker instead. He mostly goes for herbal blends, but he likes matcha green tea too. As for the herbal stuff, there's always chamomile tea in the house. It helps the boys sleep, and Viv is partial to it. He also likes any citrus ones, like lemon and orange spice. 5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

Oooh, this is a good one and requires some thinking. Especially when Viv doesn't like to publicly cry and he holds back even in private. There is a point where he cries in a future chapter (a little bit), but before that? Hmmm... So Graham can get sick, and occasionally, he hasn't fared well. I imagine there was a point where he was bedridden years before the current events of the story--some illness that seemed worse than usual. It probably required antibiotics and allowing a doctor into the house. He cried at his husband's bedside and held his hand. He does love him, even if he's rubbish at showing it sometimes. 8. Describe the place where they sleep. This is such a cute thought, thank you for asking this one! El has a double bed. Graham designed it alongside El. It has been painted robin's egg blue! He has a quilt made of various white and pastel colors, most of his cotton and linen sheet sets are light blue or pink, and he has a few wool blankets that are either green or yellow. He sleeps with a polar bear. It's been through a few washings and isn't quite white anymore, and Vivian has had to add some patches where it is worn down. It is missing an eye (Viv gave it surgery so that it won't lose stuffing, although he did plump it up with more before mending it), and has a light blue eyepatch. His set of nightstands matches the bed, as does the dresser. He got the whole bedroom set custom made by his daddy, and Graham loves going the extra mile. The bookcase is painted to match, but it has a basic design because it is buried in books. The nightstands have matching lamps with blue bases and cream shades. He has a little wooden box he made--with a wood stain--that has a sliding lid, and he puts a cotton handkerchief in there for cleaning his glasses, which are also stored inside. It has silly little patterns engraved on it. Swirls and the like. His bookcase holds only his favorites. Everything else goes downstairs in the main library. Little trinkets he has collected over the years decorate the shelves in front of the books. That includes an ammonite fossil he collected, as well as little presents his family has made him. His rug is blues and cream with fractal patterns. He has a desk for reading and studying, and it's basic much like the bookshelf. It's fairly small. It has another lamp, this one silver with a blue lampshade. He has collected lots of little boxes to sort out his pens and pencils neatly inside the desk drawers. The chair that goes with it is also made by Graham, who went a bit fancier and painted it to match the room. It has an upholstered seat (blue) that has had to be patched a few times and also reupholstered entirely once. I keep imagining he has a few old stuffed animals on the bookshelf's top, along with a few on the dresser--places Beau can't reach, or he'd steal them. Most of them don't match any actual animals... For some reason, I imagine him as a small child, drawing his own weird monsters and Vivian making the plushies to match the images. El has a closet, unlike Howie and Beau, who both have wardrobes. (They had a choice, and both of them decided that small wardrobes packed with clothes couldn't possibly hold monsters, but closets? No thank you! They'll pass on the monster den.) El doesn't have anything under his bed, for that matter. The same cannot be said of his brothers. :')

[hanajay769]

Adrien as a sentimonster evidenced in Season 5 episode 19 “pretention”

Spoiler warning for those who haven’t seen it yet!

So everyone is already in agreement that the sentimonsters (Adrien and Félix) are controlled by the Graham de Vanily twin rings right? Which is why Félix wanted the ring so bad in the first place. Oh you’re caught up already? Then good let’s continue!

Ok so basically this episode or this specific part that I want to focus on is about Marionette going to talk to Gabriel about her relationship with Adrien. So they walk into the kitchen and Gabriel starts doing his manipulation tactic, using pancakes as a representation of Marionettes future. But before that he asks Adrien to leave the room. When Adrien rejects this Gabriel doubles down and says this⬇️.

The scene focuses on Gabriels hand tightening in the spatula. Which shouldn’t really mean anything other than “oh I’m getting angry but my voice won’t reveal anything to the viewers but my actions will”. Except for the fact that the hand that’s focused in the middle of it all is his left hand that holds his wedding ring or the Graham de Vanily ring. Which we’ve already established that may or may not be controlling Adrien since he’s a sentimonster.

Then it moves to Adrien reaction to the order and his and Marionettes face. The girl is shocked beyond belief rn, and Adrien just looks angry or concentrated(?)

And then to focus on his hand leaving hers like this was such a dramatic moment. Like I know absolutely nothing about film and movies but little actions showing things like these have to be the creators telling us to “pay attention” or to purposely draw our attention. But moving past the little things and into the biggest point I wanted to make here.

Adrien goes to his room and just.. stands by the door for a good while. And only when Plagg notices do we see Adrian’s face. Completely different than the angry/concentrated expression he had earlier.

The man looks to be distraught and his words make him out to be conflicted. Plagg literally asks “what’s stopping you?” When Adrien says what he wants to be downstairs. And his answer is “I can’t disobey my father”?? Like that’s a plausible argument for the fact that you’re literally stuck in place between your wants and an order.

Then when Marionette ends the conversation between her and Gabriel and as a last resort decides to run up to Adrien and tell him how she feels. Adrien is seen still standing in front of the door when she opens it.

Like he was still torn between his decision.

So anyway. Adrien is a sentimonster and was given a direct order to go to his room. Which that order left him to be extremely conflicted and left him literally stuck in place as he mentally decided what to do.

Yup and that’s All I wanted to bring to attention. It’s 3am and despite this probably being the worst analysis/theory post you’ve ever seen. Please leave your opinions and or thoughts as a comment, I definitely want to dive more into this theory. As I also have more obvious evidence as to why Félix is a sentimonster as well.

[jockifyme]

how about a nerdy british exchange student becomes an all american jock after he goes to a 4th july party

"Happy fourth, ya Redcoat!"

I roll over in my bed to see my roommate, David, dressed in an American flag vest and only his underwear. He's retreated back into the bathroom to do his hair, and I watch as he brings his muscular arms up to arrange his damp hair in a messy updo. The adjustment to living with another guy so confident in his body was huge when I moved in with my exchange program family. I’m living here with the Petersons in North Carolina for Year 12 of school, which makes me a junior—same as David—in American high school. I got here at the end of the school year in May, so I haven’t gotten the chance yet to actually go to American school yet, just experience the summer and “acclimate.” Although David has been nothing but nice to me, I know we are as different as can be. He’s a linebacker for the school’s American football team, sporting huge, broad shoulders and arms, and solid tree trunk legs. Meanwhile, I’ve never felt comfortable in my own skin, with my pale complexion and lanky figure. My father back home tried to get me into rugby like he was when I was little, but both him and my mum quickly realized I was not the athletic type.

I toss my sheets back and get out of bed, looking at the alarm to see it's only 8 a.m.

"Wait, why are you getting me up this early,” I ask. David flips the light off in the bathroom and takes me by the shoulders, shaking me with what I think is a faux seriousness.

"Because this is probably the last time you'll ever be in the U.S. during the Fourth of July, so I'm making sure it's epic."

He tells me to get dressed as he goes to put on a pair of American flag swim trunks. I lack the American flag apparel that he has, so I just grab a regular pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt. I stop by the bathroom to swipe my hair to the side across my forehead and brush my teeth. After that, we go downstairs together and I see Mrs. Peterson sticking miniature American flags into the ground around the back yard. Mr. Peterson meanwhile is cleaning the grill in preparation for later in the day.

"Good morning, boys!" Mrs. Peterson stands up from sticking one of the flags into the ground and walks towards us. "I've got a little shopping list here if you two wouldn't mind going down and picking them up?"

“Sure thing, Mom!” David grabs the list from her and we go back inside to grab a quick breakfast before heading to the store.

-

Arriving at the city’s Wal-Mart, it was incredible just how gung-ho the store had gone for the holiday. There were massive stacks of soda boxes that depicted an American flag, and there were red, white, and blue decorations scattered everywhere. In the clothing section, dozens of cheesy, patriotic T-shirts and vests were on display, while closer to the food, holiday staples like crisps and burger buns were gathered in one area.

“Ok, let’s see here…” David fishes the shopping list out of his pocket and holds it up for both of us to see. “All-beef hot dogs, burgers , hot dog buns, barbecue chips, garlic powder, and some soda cans. Let’s divide and conquer, Will.”

I choose to go fetch the chips and sodas, while David makes his way to the hot dogs and burgers. Making my way to the large American flag display made out of soda boxes, I start grabbing a few cokes from the front of the structure. As I place them into my shopping cart, a group of guys about my age walk into the store. They’re dressed similarly to David—vests and shorts all emblazoned with the flag. As they continue walking, one of them makes eye contact with me.

“Wait a second, are you… Will? The exchange student that’s with the Petersons?”

“Yeah, that’s me. And you are?”

“Ah, sorry to jump that on you.” He extends his hand out to me, “I’m Tanner, and these are Graham and Ryan. We’re all on the football team with David.” I shake their hands before hearing a call from behind me.

“What’s up y’all?” David, with hot dogs and burgers in-hand, trots up from behind. He dumps the food into the cart and begins dapping each of the guys up. After greeting each of them, he places one of his hands on my shoulder and says, “Will here has only been here since May, so I want to make sure he gets the full experience while he’s here with us, ya know? And the fourth is the best time to really get his time in America started!”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Tanner says. “Well, we’ve all got shopping lists, too, so we’ll let y’all go. It was nice to meet you, Will!” He lightly punches me in the chest and smiles at me, but I could’ve sworn I saw some kind of glint in his eye as he passes me.

“Back to the list, I guess,” David says. “Uhhh, did you get the chips?”

-

Pulling into the driveway, I see Mrs. Peterson has added some more decorations to the front of the house as well. There are some more flags planted into the ground, and some Fourth of July garland has been hung in between the houses’s columns. David and I grab the grocery bags from the trunk and make our way up to the front door. Holding only a few bags of crisps and hot dogs, I set them down and open the door. Walking into the kitchen, Mrs. Peterson is fetching bowls and platters from the cabinets and setting them onto the kitchen island.

“Ah, thank you two so much. David, sweetie, can you put the meat into the fridge and start filling up the cooler with ice?”

“Mmhm,” David says as he starts packing hot dogs and burgers into the fridge.

“And Will, one of our neighbors, Mrs. Cobb, brought by a pair of swim trunks and a shirt for you to wear for the Fourth! She’s one of David’s teammates, Tanner’s, mom. I don’t know if you’ve gotten a chance to meet him yet.”

“Yeah, we ran into him, Graham, and Ryan at the store,” David says as he shuts the fridge. “I also invited them three to come over if they can get away from their parents’ parties for a bit. Maybe we can all throw the football around or something.”

Although that thought sounds terrible to me, I smile and nod.

“Alright Will, go get changed and then you can help David lug this cooler of ice outside.”

I turn to go upstairs and make my way into David and I’s shared bedroom. On my bed, I spot a pair of American flag swim trunks, very similar to David’s and his friends’ pairs, and a blue vest. My eyes widen at the vest: Does Mrs. Peterson seriously think I can wear this confidently? The vest sports a design of an eagle with an American flag shirt with the word “CAW” below it.

“I guess I can just wear the shorts with my T-shirt,” I think to myself.

I drop my shorts to my feet and grab the trunks from my bed. Placing my feet into them, I pull them up to my waist and fasten the waistband. I turn to face the full-length mirror attached to the bathroom door and laugh at how ridiculous I, a Brit, look in these American flag trunks. I turn to leave and head back downstairs, but my eyes once again catch sight of the vest.

“Just try it on,” my mind says to itself out of nowhere. Seemingly of its own accord, my arms reach up and begin taking off my T-shirt. With it now on the ground, I reach for the vest. Taking it in my hands, I toss it over my head and stick my arms through the holes. The fabric drapes over my body loosely, and I again look at myself in the mirror. If I were muscular and not so pale, I could easily fit in as one of David’s teammates. Imagining myself as an American football player, with muscles and confidence in myself, my dick begins to poke at the swim trunks.

“He’s almost there, dude.” Startled, I turn to the doorway to see David and Tanner looking at me.

“What-what are y’all doing?” I ask, my mind glossing over my first-time use of y’all.

“Remember how I said today was the perfect time to get your time in America really started? Well, that’s what we’re doing: You’re becoming an American.” David walks in with Tanner and shuts the door.

“And not just any American,” Tanner chimes in, “One of us, an all-American jock. I hope you’re ready for 7 a.m. weightlifting all summer long, dude.”

David guides me back to my bed and continues, “Bro, did you really think I was gonna spend my junior year of high school sharing a room with some British nerd that’s too shy to even go shirtless around me? Nah, I’m making you like me. Don’t worry, you can change back whenever you go back to the U.K., if you want.”

As I lay on the bed, weird prickling sensations begin dancing around my body. Staring up at the ceiling, I can’t see as my pecs inflate beneath the tank top, pressing out from chest, and my abs ripple before forming into a visible six-pack.

“Bro’s got a six-pack,” Tanner says as I feel him lifting the tank top up and inspecting my abdomen. I try to lift my head to look, but immediately my neck flashes with aches—my traps grow slightly, making me resemble David and his teammates more and more, while my face tickles and shifts. My jaw squares a bit and my lips plump, while my eyes transition from blue to dark brown. The skin above my lips itch as facial hair grows in a messy stache. Simultaneously, my thin blond hair darkens to a brunette color and elongates, becoming wavy as it grows to cover my ears and develops into a flow that covers most of the back of my neck. I groan and am shocked that my voice has deepened, more closely resembling the sound of David and his friends. Next my skin begins to change color, spreading from the area covered by the tank top outward. The pallid color is overcome by a dark tan, darker than even David and Ryan, and with this my muscles begin to grow, too, my shoulders pack on muscle, followed quickly by the rest of my arms: Once lanky, now my delts, biceps, and triceps can stop the opposing team from reaching the quarterback. My eyes flash with confusion from where that thought came from, and the two seem to notice.

“Football on your mind,” David asks with a laugh. “We made sure you’re gonna be the best linebacker possible.” The changes continue to my hands, which I feel grow meatier and larger, like David’s. The tingling dissipates at the end of my fingers and restarts at my waist. Moving down my thighs and calves, I feel an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched, like something is pulling on my feet.

“Where we at,” I hear Tanner ask. “6’1?”

“Looks about, yeah,” David replies.

The stretching feeling subsides and the tingling concentrated at my feet. With my neck and arms now feeling normal, I prop myself up and look as my feet grow at least three sizes. I wiggle my toes and look in wonder at David and Tanner as they smile at each other and then turn to me.

“How you feel, bro?” David extends his hand toward me and I take it, sliding off the bed and onto my feet. I look in the mirror and take in myself. Three American jocks look back at me, all wearing tank tops and American flag swimsuits. The tank top sits comfortably on my shoulders, showing off my guns. My tree trunk legs match the two dudes beside me, a necessity for linebackers.

“I feel great, bro,” I say without a smidge of a British accent.

I look closer at my new face. My hair has rearranged itself into a part with each side having thick waves that frame my square face. My facial hair being characteristic of a jock that’s growing it out for the hell of it, and my dark eyes complementing my tanner features. I trace a finger down my arm following a vein as David and Tanner open the door.

“Let’s go, bro. Coach is gonna be here soon and he’s gonna want to meet you,” David says to me as he gestures for me to follow.

Going outside, I see Mr. and Mrs. Peterson attending the grill, Graham and Ryan tossing a football back and forth, a group of other Petersons lounging around a table adorned with an American flag tablecloth, and kids enjoying a Slip-n-Slide.

“Yo, bro!” Graham calls out to me as he launches the football across the yard. Instinctively, I position myself and catch the ball in my chest with a solid thump. The two run up to me and dap me up, a gesture that feels natural. As we start chatting about the summer’s weightlifting schedule, I toss the football around in my hands contentedly—enjoying my first Fourth of July as an American.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nat and the House: Jameson

CW: Pet whump survivor, collar mentions, references to past pet whump, referenced ptsd flashbacks

Jake Gets Stabbed: First Second Third Fourth

“Okay, well. Here we are.” Nat opens the door for him, swinging back the heavy wood and stepping inside. The sun is warm on his back, but it drops away into a chill as he steps inside. His eyes shift back and forth, trying to bury his curiosity under a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.

The house is big, although not as big as Jake Stanton’s. It’s old, and creaky, and feels alive in a way that newer houses don’t. It’s a place that has seen so many lives move through its halls, felt so many hands on doorknobs and walls, that it’s taken in some of each person who has slept here. They’ve left something behind, and it’s the breath inside the house.

It’s the whisper of air against the back of his neck, slightly chilled, that tells him that a hundred voices have bounced off these walls, with their own pain and fear, long before his added to the chorus. 

Jameson swallows, lingering in the doorway and staring ahead at a carpeted staircase that winds up and disappears around a 90-degree turn, at the coat closet just beside it. There’s a built-in shelf on the landing he can see the bottom half of, lined with photographs in small cheap dollar-store frames. 

Off to one side of the entryway, there’s a big double-door-sized opening into a gigantic living room - to the other side, a dining room with a large table covered in boxes, paperwork, books, and some flannels hung from an empty china cabinet, looking still damp, drying. Beyond that, a small kitchen, he can just see the corner of the oven.

This is a house with breath. This is a house with a voice.

The house tastes like a crackling fire, the mix of heated air and chilled, melted marshmallows inside s’mores, the crunch of graham cracker and chocolate bar underneath. 

This is a good house.

“Sorry,” Natalie Yoder says over one shoulder, moving ahead of him to flick a light switch. Jameson flinches, just a little, when a warm yellow bulb inside a false chandelier lights above his head. Her braid thumps against her back, a deep chocolate brown with strips of silvery white running through it. “I haven’t had anyone here in a long time, so the house is a mess. Just me these days.”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. Natalie Yoder has a good voice, too, it’s full and warm, it tastes like hot chocolate, the kind that goes light on the sugar and is just a little bitter and spiced with cinnamon. Her voice feels smooth on his tongue. He can trust people who taste like this, he thinks, and he takes another step inside.

“H-How… how long?” His voice croaks a little, it rasps. Long-term damage to his vocal chords, they said, from screaming so often for so long. 

She stops and looks back at him, and there’s a gentleness in her tempered by the steel he’s already seen. She gives him a slight smile. “Long enough to speak to Dr. Berger, get you on your meds, and give them time to settle in your system. Could be a month or two to figure out exactly what’s going to work for you. Then see what happens with a couple of controlled interactions.”

He nods again. She speaks like an expert - she is the expert, he guesses, because she’s seen a hundred people like him in her life and Jameson has only ever known himself. 

Not that he’s even sure he knows himself that well, most days.

He has his collar on, buckled tightly around his neck, a comfortable constriction. A reminder that he isn’t in control, someone else is, and what happens from here isn’t his fault. It’s not his responsibility, because a pet can’t be responsible for anything.

He left Jake Stanton lying on a couch’s pull-out bed because he can’t go up the stairs, pale and unconscious, and he left Allyn crying in their shared room, curled up in the closet, running their fingers over the names that Jameson carved into the wall there.

He lost control, for just a minute, of where he was and who was with him, and now…

He’s safer with the collar on.

He’s safer, controlled.

They were right - he can’t do this on his own, and he never could. 

“You can choose whichever room you like, except that I keep Chris’s room for when he stays over just the same, so not that one. But there’s another three bedrooms you can use.” Nat smiles at him, moving to the stairs and gesturing for him to follow.

They creak under his feet, and the house is speaking to him, whispering here, you’re here, you’re here now in bursts of smoke on his tongue and sweet just after. He licks at his lips, looking down at ancient brown carpeting there, almost long enough to be shag.

For just a second, he sees a flicker of a bright red shag carpet in a large shared loft bedroom, a face very like his own but older, laughing as they threw balled up pieces of paper at each other. Sparkling brown eyes-

Gone-

Jameson shivers and the moment is lost, and he lets it go happily. Whatever happened to him, he has too many other problems right now to dwell on something he’s already chosen to leave behind. 

“I’ll take, uh, whichever-... whichever room is closest to the bathroom,” He says, seeing an open door with the telltale tile floor and pale painted walls. She nods, gesturing to a closed door on her left. He pushes open the bathroom door and just stares, for a few long beats. “You have-... dinosaur shower curtains?”

“Oh, Chris loved that,” Nat says, looking over his shoulder briefly. She’s as short as he is, more or less, and somehow her leaning over behind him doesn’t feel quite as unsettling as when Jake Stanton does it, or anyone else.

Shit, maybe they’re all right. Maybe he’ll be safe here… and everyone else will be safe from him.

“I just kept them after he moved out. We can get new ones if they bother you, it’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, no, they’re… they’re fine. I’m going to-... put my stuff down now.” Jameson backs up and she moves away to give him space. The floor creaks softly underfoot as he moves along the hardwood in the hallway, to the closed door of the room he’s chosen sight-unseen.

When he opens it, it’s plain. Just pale walls and two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, side tables with lamps, blankets and pillows. A single framed portrait of a bird on one wall. 

He looks out the window to the branches of a tree outside.

“I’m going to go downstairs and make some coffee. Want me to call for you when it’s ready?” She speaks from the doorway, calm and quiet. He loves her hot chocolate voice.

“Sure. I could… I could use some fucking coffee,” He whispers, without looking back.

“No doubt. We’ll figure this out, Jameson, I promise.” 

Before she can close the door, he asks, all at once in a rush, “What if I do it again?”

She’s quiet, for a minute. Quiet for long enough his heart starts to pound, he starts to wonder if she’ll lock him in the room, or even kick him back out and tell him to start walking and figure it out on his own. He can’t go back - the last time he was on the streets, he got picked up by Robert, the time before that by Brute. His pulse beats against his collar, and he’s safe with the collar, but only if he’s kept by someone who takes care of him, who won’t hurt him worse. “To Jake?”

“Or… or Allyn. Or you, or-... fuck, anybody. What if they-... made me so I’ll do it again?”

More quiet. He hates the quiet. He wants her hot chocolate voice back. He turns, finally, to see her looking him over with a calm that goes so far beyond his own anxiety and fear, a steady surety that makes her seem more like she’s part of the house than someone who simply lives here.

She’s seen a hundred hands, too, learning not to hurt or be hurt. She’s heard a hundred voices learning to speak up, remembering how to do something other than beg for it to stop. Maybe she is the safehouse, and the building is just… an extension.

He can kind of see why the big guy likes her so fucking much.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to give you the tools you need to keep yourself and everyone around you safe.” She smiles at him, a little, lifting the corner of her mouth just the slightest bit on one side. “It won’t be easy. And it won’t be simple, or immediate. But you aren’t irredeemable, Jameson. Even if you fucked up. Does it help if I tell you I’ve had others hit me, or grab at me, when they’re in a panic and forget where they are?”

He breathes, shallow but slow. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. A half-dozen or so. I caught Chris lost in a nightmare once and he cracked me across the face with his forehead so hard I had a bruise for a week. I’ve been kicked, I’ve been hit.” She exhales, not quite a sigh, and steps inside the bedroom, moving over to one of the beds and sitting down, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back, resting her weight on her hands. “I ended up in the ER with a concussion once, early on. One of the ones I lost.” She looks away from him, and he sees the wrinkles in her face suddenly settle deeper, as if the weight of that old grief ages her even now. “He didn’t mean to, the poor guy. He was so scared, but I couldn’t-... I couldn’t keep him. He was so scared of himself he went back to his captor. Never saw him again.”

Jameson takes one step towards her, and then another. It’s unconscious, and he tells himself not to, but he can’t help it. “I’m-... I’m sorry for him.”

“Yeah, me too. I hope he’s doing all right, but… I suspect not. It’s… it’s hard, Jameson, to do this, and sometimes the hard feels like it’s never going to end. Sometimes, they think there’s no choice, no other way.” She looks up at him, and he sees the faintest glimmer of tears that don’t show in her voice, don’t fall down her face. “You’re thinking that, too. That maybe you were better off kept.”

The echo of his own thoughts in her low husky voice sends him reeling, and he can’t find his voice to speak at first. Finally, he manages, “Y-yeah.”

“It’s a lie. I understand why it feels like-... it’s inevitable. But I want you to know... I’ve seen this before. And you’re still better off healing than being sent back to shatter. We’re going to help you, and Kauri-... Kauri’s right, I think. You’ll be safer here for a while, and then you’ll go back and be safe there, too.”

“What if I’m not? Safer there?”

Nat Yoder’s smile softens, and she holds out her hands. She must expect him to sit next to her, because she jumps in surprise when he drops to his knees instead, and lays his head on her thighs, across her lap, feeling the rough denim of her blue jeans against his cheek.

Her hands hover, and then slowly she lowers one, and rests it, gently, over his hair. 

“Then you’ll be safe here,” She says, and her voice pours over him, honeyed, deep, the hint of cinnamon and the texture of the thick liquid of his grandmother’s hot chocolate, made always with whole milk and a touch of cream.

Jameson doesn’t question the knowledge of how his grandmother made hot chocolate, and he doesn’t push it away. He just lets it exist, there and then gone a moment later. 

 “For how long?” Her fingers press just slightly against his temple. Her fingertips are slightly roughened, calloused from hard work. “How l-long am I safe here?”

“The same amount of time I give everyone, Jameson,” She says. “As long as you need.”

“But you said-... you don’t take in anyone anymore-”

“I’m making an exception, and I don’t do anything halfway.” She leans over, and he feels her shadow fall over him. He turns his face to press against her leg, feeling the tears start to well, clenching his eyes shut only to have them fall without his consent, to dampen her jeans.

He shudders. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt him-... I thought he was Brute, coming b-back, I didn’t know-”

“I know. I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

“I know I sh-shouldn’t fucking cry-... I’m the ass-asshole who stabbed him, I shouldn’t c-cry about it, I shouldn’t-” He hitches back a sob, feels his collar catch on his Adam’s apple. It’s not enough to keep him safe. It was never enough to keep him safe. 

Her voice washes warm over him, and she runs her hand through his short hair, over the filled-in bald spots shorter than the rest. “You should, if you need to. Go ahead.”

Somehow, once she says he can, he can’t stop himself at all. 

Jameson kneels on the floor in a house that has seen a hundred or more people exactly like him, his body wracked with guilt and horror at what he did, what they made him, and his terror that he can’t ever take it back, that he can’t become anything other than what he was made to be.

And through the tears, she keeps one hand on his head, and when he starts to talk to her, she listens. 

Outside a bird sings, a mourning dove, calling hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump @burtlederp

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

P911: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

“FBI!” Hotch yells.

Derek breaks into the house through the front door. No one is home, but you can sense that someone is upstairs. There is music blaring from the room above, but even if it wasn’t there, you’d still know someone is up there. Once you do a sweep of the downstairs, you’re first to go upstairs. The music is coming from one of the bedrooms, and you glance at your teammates before slamming the door open.

“What are you doing?” the teenage boy in the middle of the room gasps.

The curly-haired boy is tied to the chair he is sitting on, but there’s no fear or panic coming from him. In fact, he’s relatively calm about all of this.

“Where is who?”

“It's clear. It's okay. You're safe now,” Hotch says.

As soon as you walk in front of the camera, you can see everyone logging off the chat room. All those pedophiles left as soon as they see that the FBI are in the room. The boy groans and he shrugs out of his ties as if he’s the one who placed them there.

“Safe?”

“What’s your name?” you ask.

“Kevin.”

“The man who did this to you. Is he still here?” Hotch wonders.

“It’s my house.”

“Graham Rose is the owner of this house. Where is he?” Kevin moves to touch his computer, but Katie is quick to stop him. “No, no! Don't touch that. Where is he?”

“He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“He's just gone, okay?”

“Graham Rose is your father?” Gideon asks.

“Yeah, sure. You can call him that. I just call him a bastard.”

You take out your phone and text Penelope the father’s name so she can do a background check on him. You put your phone away and stare at the kid in front of you. He’s been through some shit, you can tell. He’s wearing a button down plaid shirt that’s completely open in the front, allowing you to see the scars and marks on his body. Scars that have been there for a long time. Penelope is quick to get back to you, and you get a message from her with the file on Graham Rose. You and your team step out of the room to discuss this without the prying ears of his son. Derek is still inside the room trying to figure out what’s on his computer and if Peter’s video is still online through there.

“The father's been in jail for the last eight months. In that time, Kevin's been selling the only thing he's got, which is himself,” you sigh.

“Just like a street hustler.”

“Only now, the street is the internet,” Katie says, “and his client base spans the globe.”

“This kid definitely uploaded Peter's video to the chat room because it's still on his computer. But not the live feed,” Derek says when he exits the room.

“Did he say how he got the video?”

“He said it came from one of his clients. It was a shared file. They'd gone around these chat groups.”

“It's possible that this is a buyers and sellers routine. They trade files because the act in itself is an illegal act, which proves they're not the police.”

“Let's go see what else we can find out.”

You head back into the room and make eye contact with Kevin. He immediately shrinks back into himself and looks away. He is sitting on the bed now, but his shirt is still open.

“Kid, the boy whose video you've been sending around to all the chat rooms is gonna be sold from one pedophile to another,” Derek tries.

“Boo… hoo.”

Katie is working on his computer, but she can’t get inside without a password, and the passwords she tries are wrong.

“These are dummy logs. What's the password to get me into the real transcripts of your sessions?”

“You're the FBI. You figure it out,” Kevin sasses.

“I know you don't think so, Kevin, but we are trying to help you here,” you sigh.

“Help me? What I do is consensual. No one's getting hurt.”

“Come on, Kevin, what's the password? Your birthday? Your favorite band?” Katie asks again.

“Kevin, this is prostitution,” you try again.

“But I'm a minor. I don't even really know what I'm doing. Plus I never leave this room, so no one, no one ever touches me.”

You move closer to him and kneel down to his level so he doesn’t have to look up at you anymore. There are cigarette burn scars on his body, and you get a flash of his dad putting them out on him. Kevin may be good at masking his feelings to other people, but to someone like you, he’s an open book.

“Anymore,” you correct. Kevin snaps his eyes to you, and you can see the emotion behind them very clearly. “Your father's been beating you since you can remember. It used to be when he was drunk, and then he suddenly became drunk every day. It never occurred to you why he was doing this to you. You’re his son. What could he be so angry about? You’d cry yourself to sleep every night, hoping someone would come and save you. Though, no one ever came. Peter’s feeling the exact same thing you’re feeling. Only this time, he has someone who can save him… you. You can be the one who answers him, the one who stops his pain. You can't get to your father, but you can get to the guy who's hurting this boy.”

You can see the gears turn in Kevin’s head at your words. He knows your right, and he just sighs deeply. He gets up and motions to Katie to move, and she does. He takes her place at the computer and logs in.

“This backs up all my transcripts. The screen name for the guy who sent me the file is Mehtevas.”

“How long has Mehtevas been a client of yours?” Katie asks.

“Six months.”

“Where is he located?” you wonder.

“He's a local. He's always asking to meet with me, but I don't do that.”

“Does he know where you are?”

“Just the city.”

“How do you contact him?” Gideon asks.

“He contacts me.”

“Come on, Kevin. You don't just sit around here waiting for these guys to look you up. That's no way to run a business,” Derek makes a good point.

“Right now, you're the only person who can help us find Peter.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Ask him for a face to face.”

“No. No way. I don't do that. I've never been out of this room.”

“Kevin, you have nothing to worry about. We are right here the whole time. He won’t lay a finger on you,” you say comforting. “I promise.”

“Won't he be suspicious if I suddenly want to meet with him?”

“He's a need driven offender, Kevin. If you offer to meet with him, he won't be able to resist. He can't help himself.”

“Fine,” he sighs.

Katie takes over this time, and she sets a meeting with Mehtevas. It doesn’t take him long to reply back. You’re going to get this son of a bitch.  You still don't know where this 'Mehtevas' is, so you sent Penelope a message for her to work her magic on trying to nail this guy. In the meantime, you tap back into Peter's live feed to see how he's doing. Peter is the same as you left him over an hour ago. He's inside the tiny room playing with his toys when you notice something on his jacket.

"Do you have something?" Hotch asks when he sees the look on your face.

This catches Katie's attention.

"What is it?" she asks eagerly.

"There's something familiar about Peter's jacket. I've seen that before."

You rack your brain to the time you remember seeing this image. Your photographic memory allows you to remember events and pictures as they once were without a detail left out of place. It doesn't matter how long ago something took place--you'll remember it. The shirt is dusty and dirty, but there is a faint logo on it. There are also numbers on his sleeve, but only two of them are legible. The other ones are worn out as if that shirt has been through the washing machine a thousand times.

Seeing those numbers brings you back to your childhood. You're maybe eleven years old when your dad fosters another small child. The child is small and scared, but you chalk it up to being in a new home and in a new family. The little boy has a shirt on that one would get if they were in the tadpole group in a wilderness exploration camp. That same shirt would then be used for every little boy that your dad would foster from there on out.

Instead of telling your team about it, you call Penelope to let her know what you found. If she can make out the numbers on the shirt, then you have a solid lead on who Peter really is.

"Hey, Pen, I don't know if you can do this, but the shirt on Peter is a Tadpole shirt. My little brothers used to wear that shirt.”

"It's cute you think I can't do it," she chuckles.

"Yeah, It's a wilderness group--knot tying, compass wielding, and boy stuff like that."

"Are you sure? " you hear JJ ask.

"I have four brothers, and Y/N has some too. They all had that shirt."

"She's right, JJ,” you say. “The numbers on his sleeve are four digits. It's a camp unit number. Can you find out what those numbers are? We can get a lead on who Peter is."

"Unit numbers would be registered, right?" JJ asks.

"Already on it, kitten."

Even from over the phone, you can sense JJ's smile.

"Of course, you are."

"We got an address!" Katie exclaims.

"I have to go. Let me know when you find something, please," you ask and hang up soon after.

"It's at a school."

You're not sure if Mehtevas works at the school or if he wanted to meet there, but you're going to be there when he shows up, and you know he will.

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[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

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[mongoose-bite]

Lightning Country Chapter Twenty-Four

“Grahame saw an opportunity and seized it, and you didn’t know any better and took his word for it,” Cromwell said.

“That rotten bastard!” She turned to him. “What do I do about it?”

“Apologise?” he suggested with a pointed look.

“I admit I was wrong,” Rath said stiffly. “I apologise.”

“Consider yourself lucky I was a very good Master Custodia. We don’t necessarily live long enough to retire, so I’ve always had a nominated successor. The original paperwork’s in the office safe downstairs, not left lying around for unscrupulous elevator operators to pick up, but I wrote out a copy the morning I stopped by to make things clear. As a parting gift for you.”

“Kessler’s not going to let me look in that safe if he hasn’t cleaned it out already.” Rath paced up and down the end of the dock.

“Not likely, no. Don’t bother asking the girls to open it either; they know the rules. But your hard work on my behalf was not for nothing, Rath.” He grinned. “I’ll tell you the combination, if you want.”

Read here orStart From the Beginning

What is Lightning Country? Rath is just kid from Lightning Country who grew up and made good as a professional assassin. When her boss goes rogue and makes off with a lightning-powered airship, she takes it upon herself to hunt him down, despite his fearsome skill and her little crush on the charismatic bastard.

Lightning Country is an enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, 1930′s-ish lightningpunk webnovel about feuding assassins. It updates on the first Monday of every month and can be read for free on Patreon, as can my entire original back catalogue.

[dreamescapeswriting]

One Summer In Paris ~ JJK ~ Three Little Words

WORD COUNT: 4.7 K 

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, 

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT 

The next morning you woke up early for the shop while Areum stayed in bed like she usually did whenever you opened up, instead of part-time work as you worked summers ago you were now running the shop full time and managing everything inside of the store since Grace to was far too old and busy to do any of it for herself. You carefully closed the door to your apartment before heading down the staircase to go and open the front door for Grace to come inside. 

"Morning Madame Grace, you're here early." She hummed unapprovingly at you she must have remembered who Jungkook was but she was carrying a basket in her hand.  

"I don't want any funny business with that boy, I brought this around for you and David later. He'll drop in after work," Grace stated as she looked at you disapprovingly, she made it no secret that she didn't like you and Jungkook together. Even the day he left you, she made it clear how much she hated him. You nodded taking the basket through the store and placing it into the small kitchen while Grace began making herself at home in the small shop. She still came around every day like she owned the place which was sweet since she was letting you run the place for her while only paying your rent.

"Are you staying here for the day?" You questioned her as you looked up from the basket and over at her, Grace was looking around the store before her eyes met yours. She'd been looking for any signs that Jungkook was there in the store and when she realises he wasn't there she answered your question.

"I think I'll stay here today. Watch the shop for you, Graham wants to go to the Louvre today." You nodded along with her as she began talking to you telling you what Graham - her husband - wanted to do for the day, the door to the shop opened and you glanced over your shoulder to tell whoever it was that you weren't open yet. 

"We're not open yet-" You stopped when you saw Jungkook standing in the entrance holding a brown paper bag and a tray of drinks in his hands, he held them up higher to signal what he was there for. 

"I thought I should bring some breakfast for Areum, I didn't know what she liked so I just got something of everything." Thoughts crowded your head of how sweet he was being with his daughter and you nodded slowly. Looking at Grace who was grumbling under her breath as she walked out of the shop telling you that she would be back later with David to watch over the shop for you if she and Graham were done for the day. 

"I'll just lock the door and you can come and wake her up." You spoke softly and he watched as you let Grace out, then went to the staircase with him he knew where to go but since he hadn't been here in over four years it seemed wrong to go up the staircase without you. He kept his eyes on the steps as you walked in front of him in nothing but a black shirt and some denim shorts.

"Areum?" You called out knocking on the small door that led into her room, it was originally the walk-in wardrobe since the apartment you now lived in was just a studio apartment. You'd done everything you could to make the room livable for her and she seemed to love it. 

"She's in the wardrobe?" Jungkook frowned looking at the door you were knocking on. The white door had a princess castle with her name written across it, he could already tell just how much his daughter loved the thought of being a princess.

"I decorated it to make it a bedroom, we got some dressers for our clothes instead, it's no longer a wardrobe." You told him as you slowly pushed the door open to reveal what the room looked like, he was shocked. It looked nothing like the wardrobe that used to be there, it was now a fully pink bedroom with a Princess castle bed where Areum was asleep in some Princess Pyjamas with matching sheets. The whole room had taken forever to perfect but you managed, with Grace's help as she drew out blueprints for the room to be fit for a small princess.

"She likes Princesses?" You nodded your head and smirked walking over to one of the wardrobes that were inside the room, these were all filled with her dress-up clothes and toys.

"She also loves Marvel and Star wars." You reached into the wardrobe pulling out a Kylo Ren outfit, then a baby Yoda toy that you'd recently gotten her. Jungkook smiled happy that she got his nerdy side as well and that he could bond with her on things that they liked.

"Areum, baby? Look who's here." You whispered softly going over to her and shaking her gently trying not to startle her too much from what you were sure was an amazing dream of hers, 

"Five more minutes." She grumbled tugging at the bright pink blanket and pulling it over her head but you pulled it back down and tickled her sides. The girl didn't even move an inch, she was like a rock whenever he slept.

"She's like you, so hard to wake up." You grumbled, your daughter mumbled something in her sleep before rolling over to look at you when she saw Jungkook standing there, her eyes widened as she realised he'd come back like he said he would.

"You came back?" He nodded holding up the bag of food that he'd been carrying, 

"I thought we could have some breakfast together." She immediately jumped out of the bed taking his hand in hers and began leading him towards the kitchen, telling him how she would make pancakes or something instead of whatever was in the bag. It didn't look the most appealing.

"Can we not burn our kitchen down? I have to go downstairs, Areum make sure you behave for your dad- For Jungkook." She nodded watching you walk out of the door she was making sure that you were gone before she turned back to Jungkook. She stared into his eyes taking on the confident look as she began interrogating him, 

"Why did you leave my mum?" He almost choked on the air he was breathing hearing her ask him so bluntly about something and she stared at him waiting for an answer. Tapping her foot against the floor as she placed her hands on her hips

"Do you like eggs? Pancakes?" She stared at him as he avoided her questions, she wanted answers from him 

"David makes my pancakes into the shape of Minnie Mouse...Actually, he makes them in the shape of blobs." Jungkook bubbled with anger at the thought of someone else making his daughter breakfast that wasn't him nor you. He didn't know who this man was and now he was finding out that he spent mornings with you both. His family, the love of his life and someone else was making you breakfast. His grip on the tray of drinks tightened so he placed them down so he wouldn't spill them.  

"Does David make you breakfast a lot?" She nodded her head seeing no reason to lie to Jungkook. She was only young so she didn't see the big deal with David making her food. 

"He's normally here every morning but he's busy lately." He hummed and began making pancakes for Areum making sure he was making them in the shape of Minnie Mouse for her just to prove that he was better than this David guy. Trying to push down the bubbling anger and jealously that was raising inside of him.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look!" You looked behind you on the ladder as Areum came running into the bookshop wearing a bright pink tutu, matching pink tights and a bright pink top and a tiara. You smirked as you climbed down from the ladder. 

"Did Jungkook let you pick your own outfit?" You laughed looking as she began twirling around in circles and waving a small pink wand that she had in her hand acting as though she was casting spells around the shop. 

"We're playing dress-up!" She cried out, spinning around in circles as the door to the shop opened and David walked through the shop in a pair of jeans and a white shirt holding up some flowers. Sunflowers and red roses were grouped together in a small bouquet, Areum stopped turning and looked at David giving him what you thought was a dirty look but you brushed it off, going over to David to greet him with a kiss. Areum was still giving David a dirty look but you couldn't think what her problem was, she normally loved him coming around.

"You're dressed awfully bright today, what are you doing?" He knelt down to greet Areum but she twirled away from him acting as though she wasn't bothered he was there. 

"Me and my daddy are playing dress-up together." You froze as David stared at you, you'd never told him where Areum's dad was either and not to mention who he was. David straightened as he stared at you, wondering why you hadn't told him there was another man in the apartment right now.

"Her dad?" His voice came out cold as he dropped the bouquet down onto the counter, you swallowed the lump in your throat trying to come up with something you could say that would explain it in the most basic way possible. But before you could even think of something Jungkook came into the bookshop with his sleeves rolled up exposing all of the tattoos you'd never seen before including one of an eyeball you thought looked kind of like yours. It was the same colour as yours but it was common for people to have eye's tattooed on then, you shook your head trying to stay in the moment.

"O-Oh erm, Jungkook this is David, David this is Jungkook-"

"I'm Areums father," Jungkook cut you off as he tried to establish his dominance here. They shook hands but you could tell Jungkook was squeezing David's hand just a little as they stared into one another eyes as if they were having some kind of secret men-only conversation between one another. 

"Where have you been? Y/n's been raising Areum alone for four years." David asked cockily as he tilted his head to the side. You stared at David as he said that and you stepped between them, splitting them apart so that nothing would happen. The tension in the air was thick, thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. 

"I never told him I was pregnant, not that it's down to you to know that." You told him from the start of the relationship that he wasn't going to be like a father to Areum but to David, it felt as though you were defending Jungkook.  

"What are you doing here anyway?" You questioned putting the step ladder away as Jungkook and Areum began to chase one another through the aisles of books, laughing and joking to one another. It was nice to see how close they'd grown over such a short time. You watched them both closely questioning what life would have been like if he'd stuck around with you...If he'd even have stayed if he had known you were pregnant with his child.

"Didn't Grace tell you?" Oh fuck. Your date, you'd forgotten altogether until he walked through the door. You were supposed to call in Audrey the part-timer that was working for you over the summer but you'd forgotten to when Jungkook came to the door that morning. Grace would be back later but that wasn't until later,

"I can't. Audrey isn't here and I can't leave Areum alone-" Jungkook came over after catching the end of your conversation, 

"Leave her alone where?" Jungkook questioned, raising his eyebrow at you, you shook your head, 

"David and I were supposed to go out but I was distracted and forgot to call in the part-timer or a babysitter." He shook his head looking at Areum who was now holding her head and sitting on the floor too dizzy from the spinning she had been doing. Jungkook chuckled softly looking at her and then back up to you.

"I'll watch her, shut up shop for a while. It won't hurt right?" You supposed not but you looked at Jungkook worriedly. 

"You can trust me Y/n." It wasn't the fact that you couldn't trust it, it was just that you'd heard that from his mouth before which was why you were still nervous about it but you went against your gut and nodded. 

"Thanks, you guys can sit upstairs while I go out. We won't be out late." David watched you as you walked over to Areum to tell her where you were going. He wasn't happy with the fact that you said you wouldn't be out late, he had plans he wanted to stick to with you. Jungkook took this time to look at David properly, from one look he knew he wasn't right for you in any way shape or form. David was boring, he looked like he led a boring lifestyle and had a boring job and he was clearly easily forgettable if you forgot you had a date. As soon as Jungkook saw you struggling to say no to going out he decided to offer his babysitting abilities. He would be able to tell how you feel about David when you came home from the date. 

"What do you do for a living?" It was his turn to interrogate someone this time,

"I'm an accountant, why?" David snapped, Jungkook was smirking in his mind. The guy was easily wound up which wasn't good for him, Jungkook would use that to his advantage. Jungkook shook his head and leant on the counter, he still had many questions for David but he knew he wasn't going to be able to get through all of them since you were only with Areum. 

"Do you want kids?" He began looking down at the bunch of flowers he'd brought along with him. It was a boring and plain bunch if it was Jungkook taking you out he would have brought an extravagant bunch and made sure you put them in water first.

"If you're asking if I like Areum I do, she's a wonderful girl." Jungkook stared at him and then at you as you came walking over wondering what they were talking about, David seemed tense and Jungkook was relaxed against the counter. 

"I'll go and grab the basket." You mumbled, leaving them both as you went towards the back kitchen area. 

"Where are you going?" Jungkook went back to questioning David as soon as you were out of earshot and he knew it was safe to do so again, 

"Going to take her by the Tuileries garden for a picnic," Inside Jungkook was smirking as he remembered the time he took you there for a date it was one of your favourites places to go and he wondered how many other places you'd been to together with him that you'd been with David. Then he wondered if you'd thought about him while you were out with David if you even liked him enough to keep dating him. If Jungkook still had a chance with you.

"Ready?" You asked, coming over with the basket and looking at David who was staring intently at Jungkook. You frowned watching the two of them engage in, another, silent alpha-male conversation. 

"Sure thing babe." He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, something David would never do with you. He was never big on public display's of affection, he regularly told you how disgusting he found it. That and he would never use a nickname with you like that because you told him how much you hated it. The only reason you hated it was because Jungkook was the only one you allowed to call you cute nicknames.

Sitting on the grass you looked around trying to ignore the thoughts going around in your head. You hadn't meant for this, you knew you were there with David but now Jungkook was back in your life you couldn't help but remember the last time you were here with him. The last time you'd been together here, the way you acted around one another.  

"So I told Quinn that if he was going to make it such a big deal..." You were drowning out the boring joke he always told you and stared over at the trees where you and Jungkook had carved your initials into it, part of you wanted to run over and see if it was still there but you knew that you shouldn't. Not while David was there with you at least. You knew you should have been focussing on whatever David was saying because he was now looking at you as if he'd asked you a question, 

"Sorry. I was just lost in thought, what?" He chuckled shaking his head at you and feeding you one of the grapes from the basket, it was filled with different foods. None of which you were hungry for, your brain was taking over with thoughts of Jungkook and Areum, how it would be to have a picnic with them instead. 

"I was asking when Areums dad came back?" You looked down at the blanket and shook your head not wanting to go into detail about it all. 

"Last night, he just sort showed up when I wasn't expecting it." He nodded going back to talking about himself as he always did and you stared at the blanket again remembering the last time you saw Jungkook like this. Walking hand in hand to go and put a padlock on the railings full of lovers padlocks, kissing at the top of the Effiel Tower, it had been the most romance you'd ever experienced in your life and you doubted you'd ever get that again. You only ever get one true love and for it it was Jungkook. Your gut sank as you thought about everything you'd been through together, the longer you thought about it the more David began to fade from your mind.

"We've never really spoken about us before..." You frowned at what David was saying, he'd just been walking in silence and now he was staring at you. You were walking side by side past the river near the shop together and he waited for you to ask what he meant.

"Our future." He said as he realised you weren't following along with what he was saying but as soon as the words left his mouth your heart sank. The truth was you'd never seen a future for you and David before, you weren't even sure you liked him as more than a friend and a friend was a push. He was so monotonous and uptight you thought he might crack if you ever told him about the things you and Jungkook used to do on days off. All the adventures you used to go on together. David's idea of an adventure was going to the Effiel Tower and travelling to the top.

"What do you mean?" You questioned dumbly as you tried to play it off as you didn't know what he was talking about. You didn't want to have this conversation. Not here, not now, not ever.

"Well, I mean...I have strong feelings for you Y/n and you've never put anything forward to suggest that back. We're together but we're not together." You knew what he meant, when you first started dating there had been something there but over time it just faded and now with Jungkook showing up your heart was at a crossroads. You'd never really wanted to date David it was just something Grace pushed you into. Telling you that you needed to get back into dating. 

"I love you Y/n." 

Walking into the shop later that day you found it to be silent so you walked up the stairs to the apartment, the sun was setting outside so it was too early for either of them to be asleep. It had taken you forever for you to convince David that you were tired and wanted to go back to the apartment alone. That you needed time to think over what he'd said to you and that you didn't need him to come back with you. You just needed to be away from him, all you could think about was Jungkook whenever you looked at him. Thinking about the first time Jungkook told you he loved you and how different it had made you feel. When Jungkook told you he loved you it was as if the whole world changed. You could have started floating on a cloud but when David said the same thing it was as if you were in a lead hot-air-balloon and heading straight to the floor. It was wrong to compare everything to Jungkook but it was the only example of love you had, it made you feel uneasy to be around David right now. The sad thing was that you were still madly in love with Jungkook and you knew you always would be no matter what happened, he was still the love of your life and the father of your daughter.

"I mourned for you!" Your daughter yelled out snapping you out of the daydream you seemed to be having. You frowned, walking into the living room to see them both watching Avengers on the big Tv, they were curled up on the sofa reciting lines from the first avenger's movie and you smiled at the sight of them. 

"Does mother know you weareth her drapes?" Jungkook chuckled before looking over at the door to see you, he smiled weakly as he waited to see what had happened on your date. You were alone so it was a good sign that things weren't going well.

"How was your date?" He could already tell by the look on your face that you didn't want to talk about it and it filled him with hope at the thought of the date being bad. You clearly didn't like David a lot since you kept him at arm's length but something was different now, Jungkook could sense that something had happened on the date that was making you feel weird.

"Areum go and brush your teeth baby," She walked out of the living room not questioning it. It was still light out so she sat in the bathroom waiting for the all-clear that she could come out. Jungkook continued to watch you as he paused the movie frowning when he saw how you dismissed your daughter from the room.  

"Did something happen?" You shook your head, you didn't need to tell Jungkook about the shit love life that you had when he'd probably danced in and out of relationships since being with you. It was clear over the years he'd had his fair share of women from what you'd seen in magazines, you weren't an idiot you kept up with the things he was doing in his life mostly to make sure he wasn't planning on coming back to Paris but there had been nothing about him coming this summer. 

"No, we had a nice date, he walked me home and that was it." Jungkook laughed softly as he already had it figured out by the look on your face and the way you were trying to dismiss him now. 

"He told you he loved you didn't he?" He scoffed, he knew how you felt about love. The first time you had a conversation about it with Jungkook you told Jungkook you never thought it could be real.

"Not that it's any of your business but yes-" Jungkook's blood began to boil again at the thought of you saying it back to him,

"Did you say it back?" You froze and Jungkook froze as he stared at you, realising that there was a possibility that you did love David, not that Jungkook could see any real reason why. 

"You don't love him?" He questioned, his voice coming out softly as he looked at you. His body slowly un-tensed as he realised you weren't sure how you were feeling. 

"I don't know." You mumbled, playing with your keys as you tried to avoid looking up at Jungkook.

"You don't know?" He quizzed,

"No," You answered blankly not wanting to get into this right now. 

"No you don't love him or no you don't know?" He questioned quickly as he got up from the sofa. You wanted to scream at him so you just threw your hands up in the air giving up with this conversation physically, 

"No, I don't know! I don't know if I love him," The door to the bathroom squeaked as it opened and Areum came out clutching a newspaper clipping with a clown on the front of it, you stopped being angry the second she came into the room.

"The funfair is in town tomorrow...Can we all go?" You looked at it, it was a Sunday so the shop would be closed for the day.  

"I'll take you baby-" You went to say but she shook her head, looking at the both of you.

"I want dad to come to." Dad? That was a recent development that you weren't used to hearing coming from her. You stared at her in shock and then looked at Jungkook waiting to see what he was thinking about all of this. 

"It depends on what Jungkook has planned, I doubt-" You tried to talk but Jungkook shook his head,

"I'll come, I'll go back to my hotel tonight and then meet you here in the morning." She grinned brightly hugging his leg as she got excited for going out as a family the next day. Though she would never tell you this out loud, going out as a family was something she'd always dreamt of. It would make her feel as though she had a normal childhood. 

"Can you make the pancakes again, mum loves them in the shape of Minnie just like I do." He nodded and she ran off towards her bedroom and you shouted that you'd be in after letting Jungkook out first. 

"You don't have to come back, don't feel forced about staying here." You whispered as you walked down the stairs to let him out of the shop, Jungkook knew what you were trying to do. Trying to push him away but make it seem like it was his idea instead of yours.

"I don't feel forced into staying. I want to spend time with you and my daughter...It'll be a nice day out, I haven't been to the fair since the one I took you to one." He mentioned your fifth date together and you smiled remembering how you kissed him on top of the Ferris wheel at midnight it was also the first night you'd spent together passionately. 

"Okay, come by the shop same time in the morning and I'll make sure the door is open for you." You told him as he walked out into the street smiling at you as he pulled on a baseball cap and some sunglasses to keep himself hidden.

"See you in the morning." You nodded shutting the door behind him and locking up as you walked back to the staircase and thinking about David again and those three little words. They should have meant the world to you, every person in the world was dying to hear them from someone but it wasn't David you wanted to hear, say it. You knew that it wasn't David you wanted to hear it from but from Jungkook, you shook your head. Turning off the lights in the shop and headed up to your waiting daughter, ready to question her on how her day went with her father.

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