#put how your ken doll died in the tags

[robotspock]

ken dolls are like the non living version of absurd hamster death stories

[marybeatriceofmodena]

hey! I was going through ur tag for the grishaverse and I was wondering if ur thoughts changed at all?

tl;dr No not really lol

Long answer: see I think the problems boil down to Le!gh Bardug0... starting this series during the Obama administration and her just essentially being a white liberal/center-left lady.

Like I see so many people dismissing any criticism of this series as "lololol shadow daddy apologists" but like. There is a basis for that "apology". I'll tell the truth and say that I don't think book!Darkling is super interesting (not talking about the TV show in this ask at all for several reasons), because he's essentially a) a cautionary tale on two legs; b) an aesthetic. One of his inspirations is Raistlin Majere, and Raistlin runs MILES around him, because he's allowed to SERIOUSLY mess up, the narrative acknowledges it, and the narrative still manages to make you kinda root for him because the narrative is allowed to be **complex**, and guess what, NOBODY DIED IN REAL LIFE

And when I say cautionary tale, it's that I REALLY hate that somehow women need to be told that rooting for Shadow Daddy makes them a dumb bitch, especially when the other option is Mal, who could honestly be based on the lady from Ballerina Farm's husband and quite frankly? Shadow Daddy ain't real. Guys like Mal sure are lmao.

(And again, I love stories where the lady gets to tell Shadow Daddy/the villain to stuff it, AND she doesn't lose her integrity. See: Christine Daaé, Liz Sharp in the Miss Sharp's Monsters series, Galadriel in the Rings of Power TV series. Heck, in some cases, they're even allowed to show compassion, they can be deceived, but it's never, EVER put on them as a mistake that puts their intelligence into question.)

But even then, if I had to be honest, I don't think Alina and the Darkling are well-suited to each other anyway, because what Alina really needs are a) hobbies; b) friends who are not Mal and who are removed from the political situation; c) self-esteem classes. And at the end of the day, Darkl!ina is more of an aesthetic. People who go all "BUT THE AGE GAP BECKY" are missing the point, and Alina is such a nothing of a character it's easy to self-insert as her, and it's easy to use the Darkling as a Ken doll, as he's also a) an aesthetic; b) a very flat cautionary tale on two legs, making it pretty easy to turn that aspect of him on its head. And mind you, I don't *actually* have a problem with that (that's what fanfic and transformative fandoms are for), and my general answer for age gaps in stories is usually the following: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKZX23fHL64

(And I know I'm going to have people replying to this video: "BUT IRINA! THE GRISHAVERSE BOOKS ARE YA!!!" Ding ding ding, correct! But YA is mostly read by adults nowadays and publishing houses are knowingly appealing to that demographic! That is also the reason why New Adult became a thing! I hate capitalism :) )

*

But like, I spent so much time talking about Darkl!ina when I don't think it's really the problem with the series, and it's more that... Le!gh Bardug0 doesn't seem to understand that she wrote about an oppressed minority, that we are not meant to see as an oppressed minority, and that aspect of her books has aged like milk in light of... pretty much everything that has happened since the end of the Obama administration.

If I had to be honest I'm honestly concerned people don't realize she wrote about an entire people that are meant to be Jewish-coded, and their leader is the... shadowy advisor who manipulates the King, and personally that makes my antisemitic alarm bells go all Kill Bill but what do I know Brenda. (And if you want to sit down with me and calmly explain to me why I'm actually wrong about this, please do, because sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy with that realization and I don't understand how no one talks about it)

And I'm honestly not mad if you decide to have your book series end with a) the monarchy still firmly in place; b) the Grisha still being an oppressed minority, because such is life and people are shitty. The issue I have is that the basic message of it seems to be: "Well the Grisha should have kept asking nicely instead of rebelling and causing havoc xox. Look at Alina, she's the Token Good Minority, her boyfriend is a Real Strong Ravkan Man and she knows her place xox". And I'm writing this as of January 2025, and to anyone reading this, all I'm gonna say is: kings and health insurance company CEOs don't give a shit if you ask nicely.

You will not convince me, not in a thousand years, that the Grisha somehow had privileges in Ravka. Because no, being recruited into the army because of who you are, no matter how well you are treated, is a violent act. It is a violation of your human rights. It is a clear statement that your life belongs to your country, and that your country can see fit to use you as cannon fodder if it is so inclined. Yes, I am aware that Ravka is a crapsack place, but seeing people IRL use the good treatment of the Grisha as an army as an argument against their grievances is ignorant AT BEST. I will also kindly point out the U.S. Army tends to recruit and target marginalized communities.

If anything, you could say that the Grishaverse books are about violent authoritarian regimes forcing more and more of a violent response from the oppressed, leading to moral compasses being thrown away, only for the oppressors to come out of it victorious because they have the privilege of foregoing moral compasses, but of still being upheld as a moral center as they present attributes of "morality". You can get away with anything as long as you keep reminding people at every turn you're a husband and father, right? RIGHT?

Like, this book series is essentially about how the ENTIRE SYSTEM is inherently violent, we have a heroine who basically caves in and upholds said system, sees those who had the nerve of rebelling against it punished one way or another (no seriously WHAT DOES LE!GH BARDUG0 HAVE AGAINST GENYA), and then she basically buzzes off to her cottagecore dream life with her shitty boyfriend who got a personality transplant, so she can be a housewife and take care of orphans (something she did not show any interest in doing prior - remember what I said about Ballerina Farm?)

But yeah sure Shadow Daddy and the BookTok girlies are the problem, I guess

ETA: Look I don't think Le!gh Bardug0 is the devil or anything, at the end of the day, she's one fantasy author, but I think that a) attitudes like hers towards fandom have made the next few generations conservative in ways that they don't even realize, with extremely poor media literacy skills - she's not THE problem, but she's part of it whether she likes it or not; b) given how Rule of Wolves turned out, I'm not really inclined to give her much grace because lecturing your readers because of themes you fumbled yourself is not a good trait to have.

Full offense but it's not normal for someone like Chappell Roan to get the backlash she got for saying that politicians are failing their voters and need to step up their game. When you're in politics, you're serving your people. You are not supposed to be dangling a carrot you can snatch away at every moment. Gen Z and Gen Alpha are conservative, partisan and lack critical thinking skills and it's honestly concerning. Whatever the girlies on BookTok are into should be at the bottom of your list of concerns.

[proper-goodnight]

On The Run Pt. 3 (Final)

Fandom: The Gray Man (2022)

Pairings: N/A

Type: Multi-Chap (3/3) (Finished)

Tags: @medievalfangirl, @biblichorr, @pyrokineticbaby, @lxvrgirl, @asiludida164, @torchbearerkyle, @jasmin7813, @comfortzonequeen, @96jnie, @ryanclutched, @the-light-of-earendil

There were plenty of people that Six didn’t have a particular fascination with–he’d learned how to deal with it for the sake of the job–and those people that he loathed would never have been the wiser. His life had followed a similar algorithm in prison, except the inmates had learned their lesson much faster. At that time of his life, undeniably, he had been just a touch more honest. 

Despite that, he’d only been with Lloyd a short few hours and couldn’t manage walking behind him without the temptation to shoot him in the back.

His finger toyed with the trigger, aiming his sights down while they trekked through who the fuck knew to some place that Lloyd had yet to mention. Lloyd walked with a swagger in his stride that told him that he knew that Six wasn’t going to do it, and seemed hellbent on strutting like a peacock to further tempt Six into doing it. 

He thought of Claire and the urge to and to not put a bullet in the back of Lloyd’s head increased tenfold. Worry was a permanent fixture on his expression, even if he’d made attempts to hide it. Unfortunately, he’d fallen for the one thing that he was advised against doing once he entered the Sierra Program: Avoid attachment.

He cared about Claire. He would burn the whole countryside down for her—he had . 

“Can you not think so fucking loud?” Lloyd scoffed several paces ahead. “You’re giving me a headache.” 

Six stifled a sigh. “How much farther?” 

“You know, you look like a Courtland.” Lloyd went on as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “It’s got just the right amount of weird and bullshittery that fits you. I wouldn’t have thought it before, but now that I’ve had time to think about it,” a pause followed by a shrug. “I can see it.” He continued. “I was going to stick with Ken, because you have the, you know, gruff Ken doll thing going on, but Courtland? I can have a lot more fun with that.”

Six didn’t answer. 

“Ken doll suits you, but Court? Courtney?” Lloyd rambled on. 

“How much farther ?” He pressed.

“Alright, your Courtship. You got somewhere else to be?” Lloyd then looked, expression feigning offense, then casually threw up a hand before Six could answer. “Don’t answer that. Of course you don’t.” He ducked underneath a hanging branch, the sun setting below the horizon basking everything in a soft glow–it would have been peaceful, had it not been the circumstances. Before long, they would hardly be able to see fuck-all, and the overgrowth and brush in the woods would be a constant hazard that they’d have to fumble through. 

Six wasn’t sure if he could handle it and Lloyd’s mouth at the same time. He was nearing the end of his patience already; had done so before they’d left the safehouse.

Lloyd only took Six’s silence as some silent verification from who-the-fuck-knew-who to keep rambling. “Here I was, right–” He scoffed, but staring at the back of his head hardly allotted Six to gauge much from his expression other than to guess. He didn’t really want to picture it, the stache that served as the centerpiece of Lloyd’s face exasperating enough in real time. “ --ecstatic to see you.” He stopped suddenly, and Six kicked up dirt in his tracks as he followed the motion. 

“Honestly, I’m a little disappointed. Court, it’s a low blow.” He turned, the barrel of his rifle making a wide arc towards Six’s face. 

Six ducked out of the way, his expression twisting into a subtle scowl. “That’s not my name anymore, Lloyd.”

“Are you always this fucking sensitive? When did you last get laid?” Lloyd’s lip curled in disgust. “Despite breaking your collar, you’re still a loyal little bitch.” He scoffed a laugh. “I’ll bet Ol’ Fitz is rolling in his grave.”

“I’m helping you for Claire.” Six reminded him. “That’s it.”

“I didn’t realize that you were part of the family’s will.” Lloyd turned, continuing back down the path. “Kinda ironic that your leash gets passed around, but I’m the one taking you for a walk, eh?” 

Six bit back any further retort, his rising frustration shoved down his throat with the reminder that his constant headache had Claire somewhere, and he was following with either blind faith or the hope that Lloyd would let her location slip by accident. 

As soon as he found out, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold his trigger finger back anymore. 

And he had a lot of self-control.

“Relax before you burn a hole in my goddamn skull. I’m fuckin’ with ya,” Lloyd chided. “We’re almost there, Princess.” 

Six’s brows relaxed, averting the glare that he hadn’t realized that he’d even had . Lloyd was testing Six’s usually stoic demeanor with every step, and the fact that he turned his back and continued through the brush without exactly telling him where there was in the first place did nothing to ease old temptations. 

There became apparent as soon as they happened upon it. The building was dilapidated, hardly anything holding its structure together besides a few extra pieces of board and old bracing. Six stopped while Lloyd ascended the stairs. He turned and looked at him with a raised brow. 

“What?” Lloyd barked.

“This is it?” Six asked.

“Of course it’s not fuckin’ it,” he scoffed. “I didn’t drag your ass all the way out here for a good time. For fuck’s sake, it’s a safehouse.”

“I get that.” Six’s brows furrowed, shoulders sinking as the frustration of this pointlessly long trek hit him full force. “What did you bring me out here for? To redecorate?”

“You got skills in manual labor?” Lloyd asked him, feigning a look of surprise. “I thought that you were just good at killing people.” When Six gave him a droll stare, he clarified: “We’re not playing house. We’ll settle here and come up with a game plan.”

“You don’t have a game plan?” 

“Come on Courtney, I make it up as I go, alright? You telling me that all your bullshit in Croatia was planned ?” 

It wasn’t, but he thought it was rather impressive that everything had worked out like it had. He didn’t know if that was by skill or pure dumb luck. He’d bank on the latter. 

He didn’t answer. 

“Right,” Lloyd said as though that were the end of it and somehow, he’d come out on top. He stepped inside.

Six hesitated by the door, reluctant to set his gun down in case Lloyd suddenly changed his mind about their fragile alliance and because he was reluctant to even admit that he was actually following him in here. Lloyd seemed content to wander across the cabin into a side room, leaving a wide crack in the door before Six heard him piss. 

With a muted sigh, the gun was leaned against the wall, and he took a quick look around the inside perimeter. It wasn’t as dilapidated on the inside compared to the poor structure of the outside, the furniture kept to the bare minimum, no electronics that he could see but a flick of a light switch told him that it had power. As far as he could tell, they were the only two there; it wasn’t like there were many rooms to check. 

Six didn’t really know what he was expecting.

Something similar to the warehouse maybe. Questionable armed individuals wandering around, and he did see the irony in that, minus the loyalty to Lloyd and mostly thinking in vulgar terms relating to getting laid or homicide. Regardless, he wasn’t ignorant enough to hope that Claire would be here. Her sarcasm was preferable to Lloyd’s though, and he never imagined that he’d have a preference. 

When Lloyd walked out of the bathroom, Six was standing in the entryway, hands in his pockets and making a slow rotation. 

“It’s just us here,” Lloyd told him. “You don’t have to constantly act like you’ve got a stick shoved up your ass.”

Six believed him, and somehow, that was more unsettling than having doubt.  

“We didn’t need to stop here,” Six said. “We could’ve kept going.” The sooner he got Lloyd’s bullshit over with, the better. Every second spent with him only made him worry more for Claire.

And his own sanity.

“Maybe what I need you for involves sitting the fuck down and chilling the fuck out.”

“You haven’t told me what you need me for,” Six quipped. 

Rather than respond, and as though to prove a point, Lloyd threw himself down on a worn leather sofa, noticeably clean as much as the rest of the cabin’s interior was. His arms crossed across his chest, legs spread out over the arm. 

There was no room for Six to sit, but that didn’t matter. He would sooner take the floor either way.

God , he was fucking losing it. This had to be some kind of prolonged fever dream.

Before Lloyd could somehow yank Six’s thoughts from his own mind, he walked out of the cabin and onto the front porch. The outside was just as quiet as the inside, the only sound besides the rustling of surrounding forest the squeaking door behind him as it pushed shut. 

He fished inside of his pocket, pulling out a small square photograph; specifically, the Polaroid that Claire had taken of him when they’d first met. It felt as sentimental as carrying an actual photo of her around, knowing that she’d been the one to take it before it’d been awkwardly plucked from her hands. She had tried on several occasions since then but shoving his hand into the middle of the frame every time had made her stop even when she’d attempted to jump into the middle beside him herself. 

You’re so paranoid. He could hear her, mocking him as she looked at another blurry, disrupted photo of his hand. Apparently, you weren’t actually supposed to shake out the photo to get them to develop–she’d taught him that, and he realized that it was a very miniscule thing to think about in the grand scheme of things. 

Bubbles and marks could form and ruin it if you’re not careful. It has something to do with the chemicals.

Six had no idea what that meant. What he did know was that he missed Claire. In the long months of considering giving her up to a life that was not this, he hadn’t actually entertained how his own psyche would react when she wasn’t around. She never did give him a moment to think, and now that he was alone in some remote cabin in the middle of the woods with Lloyd Hansen, his mind was going a million miles an hour. 

He strongly considered getting her that dog that she kept asking for whenever he got her back. Yeah, he must have missed her a lot. 

The photo was tucked back into his pocket, and he turned and walked back inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, the thing was that Lloyd had fucked up. 

Six slid on his slick soles, body jostling as he bounced against the wall and took off, descending the steps two at a time. A cough erupted from his throat, the violent nature of it throwing him off balance–he felt as if he were suffocating under the sudden intrusion of smoke, a flush of bodies once having been opening fire now laying in his wake. The exits had been blocked, fire overtaking the building in a pace that ensured it was no accident.

And it wasn’t. They had done that. They , being Six and Lloyd.

He bled. His right leg had tried to give out on him several times, a twitching, bleeding gash at his shoulder making his arm feel numb. A spot above his eye had turned his right field of vision red, but despite that, it did not deter his efforts to escape. He stumbled forward once he made it to the bottom, spitting out a thick string of bloody drool, coughing and wheezing. There was no time to assess the explosion of pain in his ribs, his leg, his face. He needed to find Lloyd and bail. Pronto. This was the kind of shit that people didn’t come back from.

And he actually had a reason to come back, and unfortunately as long as he had contemplated leaving, a reason to find Lloyd.

Six turned the corner, tripped over a body, stumbled forward, and felt his knee pop as soon as it struck the floor. A round of curses bubbled up from his chest, but he was too light-headed to shout them in any meaningful way. Nowhere to go but forward. Continuing down, down, deeper through the halls, she picked herself back up and—red. A glimpse of red, fixed on that godawful perve stache. 

He half-ran, half-dragged himself over, slumping down to sit on his good leg right next to him. A trembling hand hovered above his face, waving, before he snapped his fingers a few times. “Lloyd.” He said urgently, then, a little louder: “ Lloyd!” He pushed two fingers against his bloodsoaked neck, finding a pulse there, promising, but weak. 

Lloyd coughed, a splash of blood flying from his lips and landing on Six’s bare arm. He thought that he heard him mumble a curse, and then:

“-- Your fuckin’ fault–” he choked. 

A figure out of the corner of Six’s eye yanked his head up, just barely pulling out of the way from an incoming fist. Six grabbed his assailant’s arm, acting with every intention of merely shoving him back before he broke through the bone with one swift snap and shoved his head against the adjacent wall. 

The screaming hardly deterred him, but the next incoming assailant had stared at him as if he’d suddenly morphed into something else in front of his eyes, and with a sudden rage, raised his gun. He was on him in a second, quickly snapping the button on the side that ejected the clip before sending it sailing directly into his face. 

The gun was wrenched from his hand, the barrel snapped back to eject the remaining bullet, and it was tossed off in a puddle of darkening red somewhere beside him. 

A punch snapped the man’s head back, just as the hard soles of his shoes came down on the man’s face, once and then twice. The man wheezed and gave a high, strangled cry as he proceeded to stomp him into the floor. Warm blood spattered his shoes, the bottoms of his jeans, but he didn’t care. Unfortunately, as much as Six would love to leave Lloyd behind to face his own consequences a second time, he needed him.

Dammit.

The man’s face became a bloody mass, eyelids swelling to almost comical proportions. Teeth scattered across the ground, bones cracked in an orgasmic symphony of noise, but he ignored him even as he gradually stopped clawing at Six’s leg. 

Behind him, a creak. A crack in the tile—he turned, heard a sharp ping , and suddenly a cloud of paint chips and dust exploded next to his head, and a thin trail of light slipped through a fresh hole in the wall from an adjacent room. Another stood in the dead center of the hallway, aimed at him with a silenced handgun; his other arm had folded over his face. There was blood all over him from a cheap shot that Six had given him upstairs.

Six dove forward when he fired again, stumbling before he lunged to tackle him by the legs and bring them both to the floor. His fist flew into his jaw and another bullet grazed his temple before sailing into the ceiling above. Fireworks exploded across his vision.

A wrestle for control ensued—grunting and grappling, clawing—and they rolled into the wall. No curses or insults. No screaming. He grabbed his wrist, twisting the barrel of his gun away now that they’d flipped, now that his attacker was on top, straddling his waist so tight with his knees that he could hardly breathe. He felt a pop in his ribs. Pain flared along his side.

The attacker’s arm trembled, struggling to overpower him enough to plant the gun against his head. He fired another round, missing again, and bringing him to three more until the magazine ran out. His other hand pinned him to the floor before he released it to grab his throat instead and shove down, down, down so harsh he felt his windpipe bend against his fingers.

He gasped. Nothing filled his lungs. His face turned from red to a dense shade of violet, and his eyes bulged, and he kicked at the empty space behind him. His free hand reached to push at his face and slipped in the blood pouring out of his mouth and nose.

Six’s hand darted to the side, reaching for the gun that had been unceremoniously dropped. He sent it sailing into his opponent’s head, the full weight of him falling all at once as the body dropped to lay beside him–unconscious, and not dead. He didn’t have time to finish it. While he lay there catching his breath, he heard other steps emerging from the top of the stairs. 

The sound urged him to roll over onto his stomach, hands planted against the floor and gradually raising himself up. He stumbled over to Lloyd, pulling him into a sitting position before finally yanking him up, throwing one arm across his shoulder and dragging the majority of his body weight out a side door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lloyd didn’t wake up for another day, his shallow breaths the only sign that he hadn’t slipped over death’s threshold just yet. Even though he regained some sliver of consciousness the following night, he didn’t let out a single sound until the next–meaning he was pissed that Six had dragged him half-dead himself back to their safehouse and tied him to a chair. 

“Look, just—” Lloyd threw his head back to glare at the ceiling. “You don’t have to blackmail me, Courtney. I told you that a deal was a fuckin’ deal, didn’t I?”

Six crouched only a few feet away, arms draped over his knees, his patience having thinned out days ago and only being reignited by Lloyd’s awake and alert face. He  shook his head and rose to stand from where he’d been pivoted back on his heels, bending to search his pockets, from his pants up to his vest. Each of its buttons was popped loose before he peeled the lapels apart and scanned the interior side. 

His eyes were half-lidded, having spent the better part of the last couple days licking his own wounds. He’d had enough of the bullshit.

As expected, this was when Lloyd stopped playing nice. He shoved his feet against the hardwood to fling himself away and toppled over, hitting the floor. He had incidentally trapped himself on his back like a flipped tortoise, so without any better options, he resorted to kicking both bound legs out at Six.

“Don't,” he snarled.

Six circled him unscathed, then dropped into a crouch behind his head to lean over and search the vest’s pockets.

“I said a deal was a deal. Are you fucking deaf?!” Lloyd twisted and bucked against the chair, against the floor, veins bulging from his temples. “Goddammit! I never took the fuckin’ kid, alright? I never took her!” He thrashed again, again, again. 

Six’s expression was placid, but in his mind, he screamed, days of exhaustion and frustration ripping out of him in one booming word. FUCK!

He should’ve fucking knew. He should’ve known !

“Now let me go, and you can go back to playing house, eh?” Lloyd snapped. The duct tape wouldn’t loosen no matter how much he fought it. “Go right back to being her fucking guard dog .”

That was when Six made the decision to leave him. It did not quite ease his frustration, but there was something satisfying about turning his back and leaving Lloyd yelling strings of curses behind him and flipping his chair on every which side. He even left the door open a crack, quite literally allowing Lloyd to glimpse his back on the way out.

Six picked up a carton of Claire’s favorite ice-cream on his way back to the hospital. He’d planned to stay in a hotel across the street during her recovery period until they could head back to the states–he strongly considered Florida as their next stop–but since he’d been gone for so long, now he was nervously standing outside of her door, having lost years upon years worth of basic English trying to figure out some kind of excuse.

An excuse was somehow harder than the truth. He wondered if she thought that he’d left her. Alone .

Sometimes he saw her as one of his favorite records, having seen years of life but still vibrant and warm. Other times he saw her as a raging storm, chaotic and difficult to grasp. Other times, she was something like stars; cold, unfeeling and far away.

Sometimes, she was all three at the same time. Now, when he entered her room, catching the faint sound of some television show from a TV on an adjacent wall, she was all of those things all at once and something else. 

He felt stupid, the amount of time spent staring, jaw slack, breath caught in his throat until he wasn’t sure if he’d stopped breathing or not. There was something akin to relief, disbelief, and elation. It contorted in his chest, twisted at his heart and fell into barbs at the bottom of his stomach. 

“ Hey ,” was all he could manage, breath finally expelling into stale air and shoved out with a spotty exhale. A stutter. His eyebrows raised, then furrowed, struggling to come to grips with her being there – here –and seeing her.

Claire visibly gasped. Her blankets were thrown aside and she stumbled, knocked off balance and careening toward the side table until both hands struck its edge to stop herself; Six had darted forward to catch her, but she fixed her posture, a thousand curses on the verge of popping off her tongue like hot grease. She drew up as straight as a broomstick. Her expression softened from rage to something much stranger, much more foreign: fear.

As though her eyes were playing tricks on her. 

Tears welled in her eyes.

“This isn’t funny,” she said and lunged, sprinting full speed toward him. 

Six’s arms opened instinctually to greet her, wrapping around as soon as she barreled into him and knocked him back a few steps.

Muffled by the wool of his suit: “Six? Six, it’s you, right? It’s you?” Her glittering tears left pale streaks on his jacket that sparkled. She kept squeezing; her arms shivered, her feet nearly slipping on the floor as her legs quivered. 

She was the only person that he allowed to perform such gestures, the willingness to welcome her with open arms further cementing the fact that she was here, with him, squeezing the breath from his lungs until his answer came out as a high-pitched wheeze: 

“ Yeah. It’s me. ” 

He was overwhelmed, albeit much better at keeping such emotions at bay, continuously clearing his throat, a burning sensation rising up. He held her until his own arms had tightened to a considerable degree–her shivering form and the notion that they were together all the incentive that he needed to hold steadfast. 

Then he was shrugging his jacket off his shoulders, draping it around her instead, a smashed pint of mint chocolate chip safely tucked away inside one of the pockets. He adjusted his watch on his wrist, looking at her. He never voiced his fears because that was so unlike him, and he never doubted himself because that bred potential mistakes–death in their line of business. Impenetrable calm. He’d walked too many bullet and knife wounds to count, and reset a break in his leg without making a sound. 

Now he was about to cry seeing her again. 

“You look better,” and again he was clearing his throat, a lop-sided grin that illuminated his ken-doll face. Disarming. Rare. Somehow it worked for his roughened handsomeness, the scars without his jacket all the more prevalent. Then he removed the smashed, pint-sized carton of ice-cream, holding it out to her. “I brought your medicine. Sorry it took so long.”

Claire’s expression changed, to something vaguely surprised then to amused. Her brows softly furrowed, choking on a laugh halted by her tears. A laugh, less rough this time: more wobbly. Angered by the next wave of emotion that came crashing into her chest, she scrubbed at her bloodshot eyes. 

Managing a brief semblance of calm, she plucked the pint from his fingers and rested it in her palm to examine its sorry state. It was opened, its damaged contents exhumed for close inspection. “I’m really mad at you.” She said without a single hint of rage, her splotchy red face still sporting that sad, dimpled smile. 

But Six felt a warmth in his chest at the realization that she was happy to see him. Genuinely.

Once again, scrubbing at her eyes again with the fury of a girl deadset on peeling her own eyelids off, she threatened him through remnants of choked sobs. “I’m gonna get you back for this. You wait, and it’s going to be really bad, so you’d better have a good explanation for where you’ve been!”

Six’s eyes drifted. When his face finally relaxed, he rolled his shoulders. “You might want to sit down for this one.” He suggested with a scoff of a laugh. “So I ran into Lloyd in the elevator–”

[callsign-phoenix]

hiii! can you do a headcanon about hangman and the admirals (iceman) daughter dating?

Hello love, thank you so much for the request!

A warning, there’s some cursing in here and hinting at smut.

-you’re the Admiral’s daughter, which means you’re basically untouchable or half of the Navy will hunt down the person trying to woo you

-which is why your dad had told you Navy men or women are off limits, he wouldn’t want you to get hurt

-you’re his daughter and always will be, he can’t imagine you behaving in an adult manner, going out on dates and more

-you’re out with friends in a bar when you see a group of people in uniform enter, one of them looking like a Ken doll

-he’s too attractive so you know he’s a player, but you’re curious and want some fun

-coincidentally he spots you at the bar and picks you as his date of the evening, and the two of you shamelessly flirt with each other

-Hangman has literally met his match, you’re both incredibly flirty and you don’t back down

-he promises you the best night of your life but honestly it’s also the best night of his life, and against his rules he asks for your number

-you know exactly what you’re doing when you type your full name as your contact info, and the moment he searches for your first name in his contacts to text you the next day he’s in shock

-he needs a moment, running a hand through his hair and muttering a small ‘fuck’ as he stares at your name

-but in contrast to what you thought he texts you, and you go out again

-it’s so easy to be with Jake and you have an unspoken agreement that this is just fun, until you simultaneously start falling for each other

-neither of you talk about it either but you start becoming more loving towards each other, until you show up in public together, you meeting his friends and such

-it’s risky business because people know you, they know who you are

-everyone knows Hangman is trouble, and when they see Kazansky’s daughter with him all of them take in a breath, not believing their eyes

-but the way he grips your hips or puts his hand on your jaw to get your attention says it all, Hangman has finally found someone to come home to

-you can’t hide the fact that you’re in a relationship from your dad anymore and you tell him, his heart swelling with happiness as he sees how happy your boyfriend/girlfriend makes you

-he asks you to bring them over for dinner and you do so, not warning him that your boyfriend is in the Navy

-Jake doesn’t know what to wear but he chooses civilian clothes, nevertheless the dog tags around his neck say all that needs to be said

-your dad is civil when you introduce him but when Jake says what he does for a living the polite smile leaves your father’s face, and he even uses his voice, no matter if it hurts to speak or not

-“I specifically said no Navy men, what was so difficult to understand?!” he whisper shouts, but your mum is there to calm him down

-“Look at them, baby, look how happy they are. Just remember when we were their age, and we turned out well, didn’t we?”

-Jake instinctively pulls you closer because he’s definitely in trouble, his superior is angry at him, but he definitely won’t let you go

-the moment your dad sees Jake’s hand caressing your side in worry and his nose buried in your hair he can’t feel angry anymore

-he knows how he felt about Sarah, and he respects the bravery it took Jake to come to his superior’s door and tell them he’s in love with his daughter

-Jake has your father’s respect and blessing, and he’s there all the way for you when your father dies

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @kyramaximoff @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @thelifeofthelifeofme @midget713 @dannyramirezwife @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @shadeds-library @katesmadness @call-sign-hurricane

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[ahtsumu]

HEAVEN (IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU)

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 120

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader

tags: angst, fluff, chicken soup for the soul ; wc: 2k

synopsis: he lives.

Nanami Kento wakes up with the taste of ash in his mouth.

His fingers twitch first–– the ones on his right hand tighten their grip on the handle of his sword when they recognise the familiar object. The ones on his left feel the bumpy ridges on the floor. Tenji blocks. What?

And then his eyes open, blinking rapidly as the fluorescent-lit world comes into focus. Only when they set on the severed arm next to his head does Nanami remember where he is. Why he’s holding his sword. What he was doing before everything went dark.

Meiji-Jingumae Station.

Instantly, the blond sits up–– feeling his spine pop as he does–– and scans the empty subway station for a patchwork doll-looking spirit. The sound of his neck cracking as his razor-sharp gaze rotates left and right echoes through the station. Oddly enough, the popping joints don’t feel like byproducts of time and age. For the first time, his stiff bones feel like evidence of unuse.

Nanami Kento feels like a pair of ballet shoes that need to be broken-in before being worn. New.

He hasn’t felt like this in years.

Mahito isn’t here. Excluding the maimed bodies of ex-humans that surround Nanami’s sitting figure, the subway station is completely empty. Is it over? A sinking feeling unfolds in Nanami’s stomach as he runs through the possible outcomes of the fight. The worst case scenario is that everyone is dead, he thinks as he brushes the dust off his clothes and stands up, still on alert for any unwelcome surprises. Nanami pauses as he considers what the best case would be, then.

It’s so foolishly optimistic he’s afraid to put it in words.

But miracles happen. The fact that he’s alive is proof of that. Well… Nanami hovers a hand over his wrist and pauses. Does he really want to know? This must be how Orpheus felt bringing Eurydice back from the underworld, he muses, letting his hand drop back to his side. Afraid to have been cheated of resurrection, yet even more afraid to check.

A thought, wrapped in hazard red and flashing all over, suddenly pushes itself to the front of Nanami’s whirring mind. It’s not necessarily a question; in fact, he doesn’t even know what he needs to know about you right now.

The whole thought is just two words and it’s your name.

A second thought puts a calming hand on the first one’s shoulder. It’s alright. You’re at home. You’re probably curled up in bed right now, a book in one hand and a steaming mug of chamomile tea in another. Nanami smiles softly and imagines crawling into bed beside you, falling asleep with you in his arms. That’d be nice.

He’s done enough, hasn’t he?

It’s time to go home.

ii.

“Nanami Kento.”

His head jerks up at the sound of his name, but he fails to pinpoint where it’s coming from. Even if he could, it’s not like he’d be able to see who said it.

Everything is black.

“Am I dead?” he rasps. His voice echoes through the space, each morpheme layering over another like an endless canon.

“Yes. But you don’t have to be.”

Regardless of the events that had occurred in Shibuya, it’s still jarring to see the heart of Tokyo–– or at least, one of the hearts of Tokyo–– at a standstill, looking like a ghost town. Nanami’s sharp blue eyes dart around the intersection, noting how much worse the destruction the city has been dealt looks under daylight.

Daylight. He freezes. It was nighttime when he arrived at the station. The fight’s probably over now. How long has he been out? Frantically, Nanami feels for his phone in his trousers' pockets, muttering a string of curses when he realises that the device isn’t in any of them.

Deep in his left pocket, however, his fingers brush against a 10,000 yen note and a thin red card with the words “Pleasure Doing Business with You” engraved in gold.

Nanami hails a taxi back.

iii.

The thing about souls is that they exist before the body does.

So they also die after the body does.

And that means a soul can live without a body. (For how long is another discussion.) But the fact of the matter is that after the human body’s death, the soul remains living for a period of time. And in that time, humans are most connected to the Universe.

Some can even speak to it.

Fewer can bargain with it.

“A binding vow with the Universe itself.”

Nanami nods. “I have…” an image of your face flickers behind his eyes “…unfinished business on Earth.”

“The hero cheats death for love.”

“I’m not a hero,” he replies firmly, “I’m just a regular guy with some irregular abilities. And I’m not cheating death.” He wonders how to phrase his next words without coming off as an ingrate. “The fact that I’m here right now means you planned this all along.”

It’s 8:27 AM on November 1st. That’s the date on your phone. Nanami found it sandwiched in the crack between the sofa cushions after looking around the first floor for your familiar figure. You also have around a hundred missed calls and even more unread texts. “I’m so sorry for your loss”s and “are you okay?”s clutter the screen, all from names he recognises. As he scrolls through the notifications, it becomes clear why you’d left your phone in the sofa.

At some point, the “sorry”s become oppressive.

So you know he’s dead. Or, he quickly corrects, you think he’s still dead. Thankfully, he was only gone for a few hours. Maybe that’ll make his unexpected appearance easier to process. Nanami sets your phone down on the coffee table and silently walks up the stairs, making a beeline for the bedroom. Slowly, he pushes the half-closed door open.

The curtains are shut and messily so, like you’d just yanked the fabric once on each side towards the middle before moving on. The thinnest streams of light peek through the cracks you’d left in your haste, each seeming to stop and pool at the figure curled up on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

Nanami feels something cold reach for his heart and squeeze.

You’re asleep, curled into a ball wearing one of his old sweatshirts, your face buried into a pillow with discoloured streaks everywhere, likely the doing of your tears. Letting out a guilt-laden breath, Nanami treads carefully to your side and places a hand on your shoulder. He gently shakes you.

And your eyes, puffy from crying, flutter open.

They meet a familiar pair of thin blue ones.

For a moment, you just stare at the man in front of you. The sunlight coming through the curtains ricochets off Nanami’s golden hair, forming a soft halo around his head. A small–– slightly apologetic–– smile plays at the corner of his lips as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Ken?” you breathe, sitting up instantly.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

That can’t be him, you think as you stare up at Nanami with wide eyes and a hanging jaw.

“But Ieiri said you were burned everywhere. And your eye––” you touch your own, you don’t dare touch his “–– she said it was gone.” Ieiri had also said that there’d been a hole burnt through his chest. That Itadori saw him disintegrate with his own eyes. That he was gone forever. This can’t be Nanami.

“Yeah. I, uh, died,” the blond says, looking down at the ground. “But then I made a binding vow with the Universe and… I came back to life.”

A moment of silence passes.

“If I touch you––”

“I won’t disappear.”

“Promise?”

Nanami feels the red card in his pocket. This, he thinks, must be the reassurance Orpheus needed but never had.

“I promise.”

Your arms around his waist are a little firmer than usual but Nanami doesn’t mind. He’s just glad to be in bed beside you with the curtains drawn (properly this time), holding you closer than close, feeling your steady breath on his neck.

When your hands briefly tighten around his side as if to check that he’s still there for the tenth time that hour, Nanami grins and finally asks, “What?”

“I just… can’t believe that you’re alive,” you murmur into his chest. It’s firm–– always has been–– but the feeling of the muscle and bones pressing back against your face brings you a certain peace you never thought you’d crave. “A binding vow with the Universe… is that even possible?”

Nanami laces your fingers together. You admire how his skin buzzes against yours, each pulse of the blood pumping through his veins a reminder of his still-beating heart.

“I think it’s similar to how reality is composed of layers that show themselves depending on the viewer,” Nanami says slowly, looking up at the ceiling. “For example, humans can’t see cursed spirits. That layer only shows itself to sorcerers.”

You hum in agreement.

“And so whatever it was I made that binding vow with… I think, in that moment, it let me see through another layer of reality.”

His words hang in the air as the two of you dissect them.

“What was the deal you struck?” you ask, peering up Nanami’s face.

The weight of the red card makes itself known in his pocket. “If I tell you,” he says, shifting so that you’re at eye-level, “you can’t give me shit about it.”

You nod.

Quickly, he reveals his end of the bargain. Anticipating your disapproval right afterwards, he shifts so that his chin rests at the top of your head.

“Kento––”

“You can’t give me shit about it.”

“… Fine,” you huff with a roll of your eyes. But you’re not pleased–– and Nanami knows–– and the conversation lulls to a stop.

(Your bodies stay intertwined.)

He waits for you to speak again–– because you always do–– so he’s not surprised when, minutes later in a quiet voice, you ask, “Did you see heaven?”

Nanami pauses. Did he?

“I think I did.”

“What did it look like?”

His eyes flick down at your face before looking back up at the ceiling. And he smiles.

“Like this.”

i.

Mahito’s hand on his charred chest. Haibara. Itadori. Haibara. Itadori. Flowery words that wilt into curses. “You got it from here.” Feeling his body crumble away into dust. Blackness.

All his memories swim past his eyes. He sees his parents talking at the dinner table, his childhood friends crawling over playground equipment, the Jujutsu Tech second-years grinning as he bows in front of them, the first cursed spirit he ever exorcised, the dull-faced employees at Sachs, Itadori’s optimistic grin…

And then, you.

You with that look of concentration on your face as you sit in silence across from each other in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table and noses buried in your respective reading materials.

You with flushed cheeks and reddened lips as he pulls away from the kiss to quip how it’s completely inappropriate for you to be interrupting him while he’s working, even if it is from home with a small smirk–– despite how he tugged you onto his lap in the first place.

You, sun-drenched and beautiful, laughing your head off in the passenger seat as he drives down the Shuto Expressway with both hands on the steering wheel, complaining again about your shit taste in music and begging you to throw on some Beatles tunes but still humming under his breath when you play another Britney song.

He’ll miss you.

Death is inevitable–– this much he and all sorcerers know–– so dying has never been a big deal to Nanami. And he’s never had a specific idea about how he’d die.

But as each moment flashes by and disappears in the periphery of his mind, Nanami realises that if death is inevitable, then dying like this, with you as the last thing he sees, is the best way to go.

Not everyone gets to die with heaven already in sight.

[iliketoreadstuf]

newbie (spencer reidxOC!) part 2

a/n: i’m just going to post everything i have written rn which is a lot so hopefully none of y’all get mad at me for spamming the tag bahaha

warnings: sexual assault mention, violence and injury

part one

chapter two: 

Delaney woke with puffy eyes to her alarm at her bedside table. Shooting up from her sleeping position, she turned the loud alarm off and slipped out of the covers. She dug through her duffel bag to find her toiletries and she got in the shower, washing her hair and body with her soaps she brought from home.

She inhaled the relaxing scents of her floral soaps and stepped out when she was satisfied. Delaney looked in the mirror to find that her eyes were still slightly puffy and bloodshot. God, she looked like shit. Hurriedly, she combed and dried her hair, curling the ends. She put on minimal makeup, but enough to cover her heavy eyes.

Delaney stepped into a periwinkle pencil skirt and a fuzzy white sweater. She slipped into white heels and tied her hair back with a ribbon. Feeling like herself again, she let out a determined sigh and packed her things in her bag. Right as she was getting ready to leave, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and found Spencer standing there.

He gave her a nervous smile and held out a travel cup. It smelled like coffee, which made Delaney smile. He had on a brown sweater with a burgundy tie and a white button-up. His hair was endearingly messy and curly and his eyes were bleary with sleep. She took the cup and closed her door behind her.

“Hey, thank you.” She smiled at him, taking a sip.

“Y-yeah. Of course.” He replied, twiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Reid, I’m sorry about last night. I wasn’t in a good state of mind and it was sweet of you to come to check on me. I-I’m not used to people, um, caring enough to check on me. So, thank you.” Delaney said, looking deep into his hazel eyes.

Spencer didn’t even process what was happening until Delaney’s arms were around his middle and her head was resting on his chest. She smelled like flowers and seemed to fit so perfectly against him. He wrapped his arms around her and set his chin on top of her head. He waited for her to let go of him first. She didn’t for at least a minute.

When Delaney pulled away, she had a small smile on her face as she wrapped her arm around his. Spencer was a good guy. She didn’t want to push him away as she did to a lot of people. Like she had the night before.

“You’re a good friend.” She smiled up at him, pulling him towards the elevators.

Spencer just let her pull him with a dazed expression. He wanted to ask her about the night before but decided that she should be the one to tell him. They stood in silence as they rode down to the lobby.

“So, what are we going to be doing today? Figuring out a geographical profile? I can help you with that.” Delaney said, her demeanor changing as she shifted into work mode.

“Yeah, Hotch will probably have us working on the geographical profile and everyone else will be trying to figure out the unsub’s identity,” Spencer said as the elevator door opened.

Delaney let go of his arm and walked over to the gathered members of their team. She looked back and gestures for Spencer to come faster. He grinned and picked up his pace, standing beside her as Hotch came over to the group.

“Okay, everyone. We’re all going to the station now. Wilmer, Reid, I want you two working on the geographical profile. Morgan, Rossi, I want you two to check out the other bars the victims were found at, maybe try to get some more information on the unsub. Prentiss, JJ, and I will interview the families of the victims. Everyone clear on their assignments?” Hotch said, looking around at the group.

Everyone nodded and piled into the SUV’s. Delaney was squished between Prentiss and Spencer, Hotch and Rossi in the front.

“How was your night, Wilmer?” Emily asked from beside her.

“Pretty good. I was exhausted and fell asleep quickly. How was yours?” Delaney asked her politely.

“Oh, you know. JJ snores and was up talking to Henry until midnight. The usual.” Emily grinned playfully.

Delaney realized that everyone else probably had a roommate. Delaney was simultaneously glad that she didn’t have one but sad that she didn’t have one. She looked over at Spencer curiously.

“Who are you rooming with, Reid?” She asked curiously.

“Morgan.” He said, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

“Oh, that must be fun. Does Morgan snore, too?” Delaney asked with a smile.

“From past experience of rooming with Morgan, yes, Wilmer, he does snore,” Rossi said from the passenger seat.

Delaney laughed lightheartedly. Spencer looked over at her with a wide grin on his face. Her laugh was extremely contagious and, soon enough, everyone in the car was laughing at Morgan’s expense. Spencer enjoyed how easily Delaney seemed to be fitting in with the team. Even Hotch was cracking a smile as Delaney laughed.

“So, how are you enjoying your first case, Wilmer?” Emily asked once their laughter died down.

“I like it. I’m excited to get to work with the genius today in his element.” Delaney bumped her shoulder into Spencer’s.

Spencer just rolled his eyes as his cheeks turned pink. Prentiss didn’t miss his reaction to Delaney. She met eyes with him over Delaney’s head and smirked knowingly at him. His eyes widened as he shook his head at her. She stifled a laugh and put her hands up, vowing not to say anything to embarrass him. Rossi met her eyes in the rearview mirror, both of them looking amused.

They got to the station and split up, Spencer and Delaney spreading out a map on their evidence board while the rest of the team went their separate ways. Delaney stepped out of her heels as the two of them started working on the logistics of the map. She marked where each girl was found and the two of them examined it. Spencer’s mind seemed to be running a mile a minute, looking between the markings.

Delaney was doing the same and both of them seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time. The unsub was making his way around Atlanta in a circular shape. Delaney went to the map and circled the area that he was avoiding. He had a clear comfort zone and there were only a few bars he had left to hit before he completed the circle.

“He’s got to live in this area and if we’re right, he’s going to hit this bar next,” Delaney said, pointing at a mark on the map with her marker.

“Yeah, let’s call Hotch and see if they’ve found anything on the unsub’s identity,” Spencer said, already pulling his phone out and dialing the number.

Hotch picked up and informed them that they caught the unsub on one of the cameras in the bar. Hotch had sent the video to Garcia, who was soon talking to them through a group call. Garcia informed them that the man in the footage’s name was Damien Reynolds, who was a 27-year-old man who had a past girlfriend that he was engaged to but eventually broke up with him due to his violent behavior towards her. She’d been recently married a month ago to another man and moved away.

“She got married right around the time the killings started,” Delaney said, the case slowly starting to come together.

“And based on the geographical profile Wilmer and I came up with, this is the bar he’s going to be hitting next,” Spencer said, pointing to the spot on the map to Garcia on the screen.

“Ah, yes, pretty boy, and his address is directly in the center of the kill zone,” Garcia said, sending them the address.

“We’ll come back to the station now and discuss everything we’ve found. Good work everyone.” Hotch said and hung up.

Spencer and Delaney high-fived each other with big grins. They held onto each other’s hands for a beat too long and quickly let each other go. Both of them had flushed cheeks and Delaney cleared her throat with a small smile.

“I’m gonna go get some more coffee. You want some?” She asked him, slipping her shoes back on.

“Yeah, thank you,” Spencer said, still trying to control his flustered state.

“Wait, let me guess how you take it. Hmm, what would a genius drink with his coffee? Black? No, five tablespoons of sugar?” Delaney asked, a teasing smile coming over her face.

“Just two tablespoons, please.” He said, unable to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, doctor.” She winked and walked out of the room.

She walked over to the coffee machine and poured two cups, obliging Spencer’s request of two tablespoons to his and adding four tablespoons to hers and a splash of creamer. She didn’t like coffee all that much if she was honest, but she needed the energy. As she was stirring hers, an officer came over to her. He was probably in his 20’s, blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked like a Ken doll. He gave her a charming smile as he leaned against the counter.

“Hey, I’m Will. Delaney, right? You’re with the BAU.” The officer said, seemingly already knowing her.

“Uh, yeah. Agent Wilmer.” She said with a polite smile, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“You don’t seem old enough to be in the FBI. Tell me, Wilmer, how old are you?” He asked, holding her hand and pulling her a little closer.

She widened her eyes and gently pulled her hand away from him. This guy obviously didn’t see a lot of young women at his work, considering that most of their department were men.

“All you need to know is that I’m old enough to be in the BAU and the FBI. It was nice meeting you, Will.” She said, stepping away from him.

“Hey, do you guys ever get a break? Usually, after work, my buddies and I go out for a drink. Maybe you’d like to join us?” He asked, stepping closer to her again.

Delaney raised an unamused eyebrow at him. He didn’t seriously think she would consider going out for a drink with him and his friends, right? She had just got here and had serious work to do.

“No, I’m sorry. Unfortunately, there are women being murdered right now and my team is working hard to figure out who’s doing it. I don’t have time to get a drink.” She said sharply, grabbing the coffees and walking away from him.

She heard other officers snickering at their friend, obviously amused by her rejection. Delaney’s cheeks were flushed with frustration as she walked back into the conference room and shut the door a little too forcefully. Spencer seemed to have been watching the whole time and raised his eyebrows when she set down the coffees with a sigh.

“You okay? I saw that officer come up to you.” Spencer said, his eyes dark with seriousness.

“Men think they have the right to come up and ask women on dates whenever they please. I’ve never spoken a word to that guy and yet he thought I would just say yes to getting drinks with him and his pig friends.” Delaney said, looking down at her hands and angrily picking her nails.

“Hey, stop that. Just ignore them, alright? Considering the work we’ve accomplished today, we should only be here another day or two.” Spencer said, grabbing her hands to stop her from picking at her skin.

Delaney sighed and looked up at him. His eyes were so comforting as she stared into them that she believed anything he said. She slowly nodded and picked up her coffee. He let go of her hands and looked out the window at that cop. He was watching them in the conference room and Spencer glared harshly at him. The cop quickly looked away and seemingly got back to work.

The team got there shortly after that and they all discussed the possibilities of where and when the unsub would strike. They went over all the facts for hours until it started getting dark out. Garcia sent a picture of Damien’s ex-girlfriend, and sure enough, she was small and blonde. As all of them sat at the round table, Hotch and Rossi were talking quietly together.

Hotch cleared his throat and looked at Delaney. She shifted in her seat as her eyes widened slightly.

“Rossi and I came up with a plan that involves you, Wilmer.” He said hesitantly, obviously worried about Delaney’s reaction.

“Okay?” She asked uneasily, having a feeling of where this was going.

“We want you to be bait for the unsub tonight. You will be wired and we’ll have eyes on you the whole time. We wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.” Hotch said.

“Woah, woah. You want her to lure in the unsub?” Spencer asked incredulously. “It’s her first case!”

“Yes, but she’ll be completely safe. She will never be alone and it could be a good chance for us to catch him.” Rossi said.

“I’ll do it,” Delaney said before anyone could protest it further.

“What? Delaney—” Spencer protested.

She gave him a look and he shut his mouth. Prentiss and JJ looked at each other with wide eyes, matching grins spreading across their faces. No one had shut him up like that before. The girls were amused and pretty impressed by Delaney’s ability.

“Okay, we need to start getting you ready. Reid, you and Wilmer have the bar you think the unsub will hit next, right?” Hotch asked while waving Delaney over.

Spencer nodded and Delaney stood from her seat and walked over to Hotch. He had one of his very serious expressions, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You don’t have to do this. I know you want to prove yourself to us but you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I want to do this. If I can help us catch the unsub, why wouldn’t I do it?” Delaney said.

Hotch gave her a small grin and patted her shoulder.

“Do you have clothes that you could wear to the bar tonight? The unsub obviously likes girls who are dressed very feminine, so if you have a dress or something that would be best.”

“Yes, I can do that. Give me 20 minutes at the hotel and I’ll be ready to go.” Delaney said with determination.

“Alright, I’ll have JJ come with you and help you at the hotel,” Hotch said, waving JJ over to them.

JJ listened to Hotch’s orders and they were soon driving back to the hotel. JJ and Delaney walked into her room as she kicked her shoes off and JJ helped her look through her clothes. Rifling through her bag, JJ pulled out a tight black dress Delaney had brought in case the team went out to dinner. She always brought outfits for every occasion, she had a bad habit of overpacking. Delaney slipped it on, untangling the spaghetti straps, and pulling it down. It was shorter than something she’d usually wear at work and she felt slightly exposed in it. She slipped her feet into black heels with straps and put on some hoop earrings. Delaney quickly parted her hair down the middle and JJ helped her ruffle it around and spray it with some hairspray.

Delaney pulled out her makeup bag and leaned close to the mirror, applying smoky black eyeliner and more mascara and blush. She put on red lipstick and deemed herself ready. With a quick spritz of perfume, she packed her things back in her bag and walked back out. JJ was waiting on her bed and smiled at her as she walked out.

“Damien’s not going to be able to resist you.” She said with a sly smile.

“Thanks, JJ,” Delaney said with a smile.

The girls got in the car and made their way back to the station. As they drove, Delaney felt a question rising in her. She looked over at JJ and couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hey, JJ?” She asked quietly.

JJ looked over at her with questioning eyes.

“Do you… ever get hit on by men? Like men working with you?” She asked hesitantly.

“All the time,” JJ said with a smile.

“How do you deal with it? I mean, a police officer came over to me today and just asked me to have a drink with him tonight. Just like that.” Delaney said, still frustrated by her encounter from earlier that day.

“Delaney, you’re young and beautiful and smarter than all of those men in the police station. They’re all going to be trying to get under your skin as long as you’re here. I’ve had to deal with it my whole career and the easiest thing you can do is just beat them at their own game. Use your intelligence and your beauty to put them in their place.” JJ said, glancing over at Delaney.

Delaney nodded and thought over her words. Just put them in their place.

“Okay. Thanks, JJ.” She said as they pulled into the police station.

“Anytime, kid.” She patted Delaney’s head and they got out of the car.

The girls made their way inside and Delaney immediately saw Will sitting at his desk. His mouth fell open when he saw her and she waved at him with a smirk. Most of the police officers followed her with their eyes and she tried to hold back a smile. Hotch had told her to look ready so she had to pull all the stops.

When they walked back into the conference room, the conversation stopped. Delaney nervously walked over to the table after JJ. She locked eyes with Spencer, who blushed and looked down.

“Too much?” She said with a smile.

“Damn, girl, you look good.” Morgan whistled with a smirk on his face.

Delaney smirked back and felt confidence surge in her chest. Some of the officers came over to see what was going on and why Delaney was dressed like that.

“Here, get yourself wired and we’ll get ready to leave. Spencer, you have the bar?” Hotch said, handing Delaney her wire.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. He’s heading across the city in a circle, hitting every bar he comes across. If we’re right, he’ll be going to this one next.” Spencer pointed to a dot on his map that everyone looked at.

“Okay, everyone knows what to do. Delaney, I’ll have Reid brief you on what you need to do.” Hotch said, walking over to the officers gathered around.

Delaney walked over to Spencer, who was avoiding eye contact with her. She found it quite endearing as she sat next to him. He was fumbling with his tie as she wired herself.

“Okay, so you’re going to just act natural and sit at the bar for most of the night. Maybe get up and walk around but keep yourself visible to most people. We want the unsub to notice you and try to lure you out of the bar. You’ll need to keep us updated. I’ll be inside and most people will be outside waiting for you two to come out.” Spencer explained.

Delaney nodded and finished getting wired. She grabbed her phone and wallet, looking around at everyone. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest. If things went as planned tonight, she would be staring down a serial killer in a few hours. Possibly flirting with one.

“Ready?” Spencer asked, noticing her go off in her head.

“Yes. Ready as I’ll ever be.” Delaney said, forcing a smile on her face.

She walked out of the conference room with Emily and JJ, the officers still gawking at her as they passed. JJ gave her a look and winked, making Delaney smile. She just looked away from the officers and got in the car. Hotch and Rossi were in the front of the car as Delaney and Spencer slid in the backseat. She twiddled her fingers as they made their way to the bar. It was already dark out when they arrived and the bar was crowded.

“Okay, Wilmer, you’re going to tell the unsub that your name is Carly Harris. You’re 23 and you work as a secretary. Keep him talking for as long as possible. Remember that he’s young with dark brown hair. He’ll be charismatic and flirty.” Hotch prepped her.

“Got it.” Delaney nodded.

“Good luck, kid. You can do this.” Rossi smiled as Delaney got out of the car.

She just nodded and made her way into the bar, quickly showing her ID to the bouncer and walking in. Immediately she looked around for the unsub. No one caught her attention so she went up to the bar and sat down. She ordered a glass of wine reluctantly. She didn’t like alcohol very much and was pretty sensitive to its effects. She took small sips as she slowly looked around, trying not to look too interested.

Every once in a while she’d update the team through her wire, saying that she didn’t see anyone suspicious.

She spotted Spencer standing in a corner. He was watching her like a hawk and she hid her smile with her glass. She was too busy thinking about Spencer that she barely noticed a man come sit beside her. It was Damien Reynolds. She whispered in her wire that he was there. Hotch told her to act natural.

“Hello there.” He said with a smooth voice.

Delaney looked over at him. He had dark brown hair and a wide grin. Her heart started pounding in her chest as he looked over her body.

“Hello.” She said with a sultry smile.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

“Carly. What’s yours?” She allowed him to get closer and forced her body to face his.

“Damien. Damien Reynolds. It’s very nice to meet you, Carly.” He said, holding his hand out to her.

“You too, Mr. Reynolds.” She shook it with a smirk, knowing that the team would be on high alert right at that moment.

“Are you here with anyone, Carly?” He asked, not letting go of her hand.

“No.” She sighed and pretended to look devastated with a pout. “I’m all alone tonight.”

“Do you want to change that?” He asked with a glint in his eye.

“What did you have in mind?” Delaney asked eagerly, leaning forward on her elbows to get closer to him.

“Come with me.” He pulled her hand a little too forcefully, but she ignored it.

Her heart was pounding. Hotch said something in her ear as Damien pulled her somewhere in the bar.

“Wilmer, where is he taking you?” Hotch asked urgently in her ear.

“I’m not sure,” Delaney whispered.

Damien looked back at her curiously, wondering what she’d said. She just smiled sweetly, trying to hide her fear. He wasn’t taking her outside as he had with his previous victims. She quickly realized it was a storage closet.

“A storage closet?” She pretended to ask Damien but was really informing her team where she was.

Damien hummed in reply as he shut them in and locked the door. Delaney tried to control her breathing as he turned to her with animalistic eyes. He backed her up against a wall and started kissing down her neck. Delaney was trying to control her panicked breaths. Damien grabbed her waist and started kissing her lips. She forced herself to kiss him back when she felt one of his hands leaving her waist and coming behind his back.

Her breath was coming quickly as she was having flashbacks to that party. She saw the glint of a knife and quickly kicked her knee out to hit his groin. He doubled over with a groan and she punched out at his nose, blood quickly pouring out of it as he seethed at her.

“You bitch!” He screamed, lunging at her and hitting her over the head with the back of the knife.

Delaney cried out as she fell. He kicked her in the ribs and she groaned again. Hotch was practically yelling in her ear but she couldn’t see anything as Damien kicked her again and brought his knife up. He slashed at her arm, drawing a deep cut. She managed to scrape her nails across his arm, drawing blood and grabbing at his knife. She grabbed it and slashed all the way across his stomach. Delaney’s vision was blurring as she heard the door being kicked open. Damien’s eyes went feral when he saw FBI vests. He looked over at the window in the closet and opened it, climbing out right as Morgan and Hotch came in. His knife was still in Delaney’s hand, his blood dripping off the blade.

Morgan ran to the window and tried to shoot, but Damien was already gone. Delaney cried out in pain and Spencer came in, looking down at her with wide eyes. He quickly leaned down and helped her up, wrapping her uninjured arm around his shoulders. Delaney whimpered quietly and he looked down at her with panicked eyes.

“He got away!” Morgan said angrily.

Spencer wasn’t even paying attention to what happened with the unsub. He was looking down as Delaney seemed to be gaining strength. She let go of Spencer and rushed out of the closet, her breath moving too fast for her to properly breathe. She vaguely heard Spencer yelling at Hotch and Hotch responding.

“We need medical here now,” Hotch said urgently in his wire, his voice ringing through Delaney’s ear.

She’d made it outside and tried to control her breathing. Too much was happening. Memories were consuming her brain as she leaned against the building, sliding down in a crouched position. She didn’t even process the pain in her ribs or the blood sliding down her arm. All she could do was bury her face in her knees and try to get rid of her memories. As she sat there, she felt a hand rest on her back.

She looked up in surprise and found Spencer staring at her with worried eyes. She felt her tears slipping down her cheeks and his fingers slowly wiped them away. Delaney wasn’t sure what to do, she hadn’t had anyone do this to her before. His touch was so light and tender that it made her heart contract.

“Delaney, the ambulance is here. Can you stand so we can get you taken care of? Please?” He asked with a gentle voice.

She nodded, Spencer grabbing her hands to help her up from her crouched position. Delaney let him lead her towards the back of the ambulance where some doctors waited for her. They had her sit down as they examined her and wrapped her arm tightly in gauze. After examining her, they said she’d need to come in to get stitches and meds for her bruised ribs.

“Can’t I just take some Tylenol and get more gauze for this?” Delaney asked, not wanting to go to the hospital and stay there alone.

“Wilmer, you have a huge cut down your arm and a possible concussion. You need to go to the hospital.” Hotch said sternly.

“But we were so close. I-I want to help you get him.” Delaney said desperately.

“Kid, you’ve more than proven yourself to us. It’ll be easy now. You cut a gash through his stomach and probably broke his nose. He’s not going to get very far.” Rossi said, petting her head gently. “Do you want one of us to stay with you?”

“No, you should all be out there trying to get him. I-I’ll be fine.” She said, forcing a reassuring smile on her face.

“No way. I’ll stay with her. Everyone else should go search for Reynolds.” Spencer said, giving Delaney a look that meant she didn’t have a choice.

“Alright, thank you, Reid. Call us with updates.” Hotch said, then turned to Delaney. “You kicked his ass. Good work, Wilmer.”

Delaney tried not to beam but nodded her head at him. He squeezed her shoulder gently and walked away with Rossi. JJ and Emily came over to check that she was okay and then quickly hugged her as she was put on a gurney in the back of the ambulance. Spencer followed her and sat next to her, gently taking her hand.

“You didn’t have to come with me, Spencer. I’ll be okay.” Delaney said, feeling extremely tired as she lay on the gurney.

“Yeah, right. Be as stubborn as you want, but there was no way I was going to leave you. You don’t need to tell me whatever it is that’s been bugging you, but I do know that the unsub triggered it tonight. And I’m not leaving you alone when you’re in that state.” Spencer said sternly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Delaney gave him a soft smile, her eyelids suddenly heavy. The doctor put an IV in her arm and it felt cold as fluids pumped through her.

“You’re… a good guy, genius.” She mumbled as her eyes shut.

She faintly heard Spencer chuckle before she passed out.

[connorandersons-blog]

Family Reunion

Rating: mature

Ship: Connor/Gavin

Word count: 5,010

Chapter: 2/5

Summary: Gavin is going to a family reunion, but he doesn't have a date. Of course, he has to ask the android he's been pining for. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Trans Gavin, fake/pretend Relationship, mutal pining, bi Connor, ace connor, gay Gavin, Ken Doll Android Anatomy

--------------------------

The day comes quickly as Connor double checks his suitcase. He is bringing clothes but also supplies just in case he gets injured for some reason. Gavin had told him that they could get thirium there, and they'd already had plenty of stuff, but he brought it anyway. 

He had also stayed up all night baking things. Gavin had said they'd be leaving early in the morning and he wanted to bring something to give as a gift to Gavin's family. 

Hank knocked on his doorframe and Connor looked up with a small smile. "You sure you don't wanna back out of this, son?" 

"I'm sure. I already committed to it, and who else would Gavin be able to take, especially on such short notice." He closed up his suitcase and duffle bag, placing the suitcase on the ground. Gavin should be here any minute. 

"Hm, well I'll come get you if you need me. If you need anything actually, I don't care how long the drive is." Hank glared at the wall. He couldn't really blame him. He knew that Gavin and Hank had a strained relationship, though neither would tell him why. 

Connor smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, but I'm sure I'll be fine. Gavin may be an ass but he'll stop if I say no." He knew he would. He trusted him enough for him to. 

They both turn when they wear the knock on the door. Connor can't help the small smile as he slings the duffle bag over his shoulder and goes to the kitchen, calling out that the door is open. 

Connor grabs the goodies he's made (he was originally just going to make one, but he stress bakes) and walks towards the door.

He looks over and Hank has his arms crossed, staring Gavin down. He's never seen Gavin pull in on himself like this, making himself look small. 

Connor doesn't say anything as he watches the two stare at each other. It takes a full one minute and twenty-five seconds until Gavin looks down at the floor. 

Hank grins and nods to himself before moving away. Connor isn't really sure what just happened so he shrugs and walks over. 

He hands Gavin a cup of coffee and holds out the first tray of goodies. Inside is a mixture of donuts of different kinds, and muffins. He had blueberry, chocolate, banana, apple, and plain for the muffins. 

Gavin's eyes widen at the coffee and food, looking between Hank, Connor and the tray. Hank just rolls his eyes and shrugs. Gavin looks at each muffin and donut before taking a chocolate one. 

"Thanks," he mumbled before taking a bite. His eyes roll back and he hums happily, scarfing down the rest of it and eagerly taking a sip of the coffee. 

Connor feels pride bloom in his chest at the response. He could have learned to cook by downloading a program but has chosen to learn the human way. He was immensely glad that he had. 

"Fuck, this is good." Gavin sided, grinning just slightly. 

Connor smiled and looked to Hank who was just squinting at the two. "Hank, I left you some of the food I made, don't eat it all at once. Also, don't forget the recipes I taught you. I don't want to hear that you got take-out every night." He points an accusing finger at Hank. 

Hank sighs and puts his hands up in surrender. "Yeah, yeah. Be safe." He then turns to Gavin, "you fuck with him I cut your dick off." 

Gavin's face paled just slightly and he nodded. He had no doubt that Hank would follow through with his threat. That man may now love his job again, but Connor was like a son to him. He'd cut off anyone's dick if they hurt him. 

"Alright, I'm ready if you are," Connor said. Gavin nodded and moved back out the door. Connor gave Sumo a pat on the head before walking out. 

Hank stood at the doorway watching as Gavin opened up his trunk for Connor. Connor slid his suitcase in and placed his duffle bag in too before shutting it. 

He walked around and opened the back door and put the two trays of food in the seat. He then walked to the passenger side and opened the door. He looked back at Hank and gave him a small wave before getting in. 

Gavin slides in on the other side and starts up the car, glancing over at Connor before pulling out and into the road. 

The first thirty minutes are silent as they get onto the highway. Gavin has music playing in the back, but it wouldn't be loud enough to obstruct speaking. 

"Alright, so some more things about me. I do a morning routine that lasts about ten minutes. I also take a morning jog, feel free to come with. I normally wake up around seven." Gavin starts up randomly. 

Connor nods along, once again taking notes. The list was becoming longer and longer and he was glad once again that he had perfect memory.

"I also try to work out at least once every other day if I don't do any hard fieldwork. Again, feel free to join. By the way, I didn't tell my family who I was bringing, so it's gonna be a surprise for them too. They just know you're a dude." 

"Tina agreed to look after my cats while I'm gone. While we’re on that topic, time for you to learn about them. A friend of mine from academy had ragdolls and they had kittens, that's where I got Sig. I found Fae on the street. Sig is pretty standoffish, though I'm sure you two would get along. Fae is an attention whore. She can give you hugs, which I didn't teach by the way. She meows a lot, and can be the sweetest cat ever." 

It's adorable to picture Gavin curled up with two cats. He really hoped that he'll actually get to meet them someday soon.  

"So, what about you? Anything I should know?" Gavin asks, quickly glancing over before looking back at the rode. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the music. 

"I consider Hank a father, and as you know we have Sumo. I also really love fish. I like to bake, and clean though Hank doesn't like it if I clean too much. He said he doesn't want me to feel like a cleaning android." He found cleaning calming, so he often cleaned when Hank was asleep. 

"Right, my stepmom will adore you then. She could never get most of us to clean. My room was always a mess." Gavin snorted. "Now I have to keep everything neat." 

He had seen how sparse and organized Gavin's desk always was. It was like that even with-no, especially if- he had a big case. It was nice to see compared to other desks (cough, cough, Hank's). 

"Speaking of, family history time. Bio mom and dad were together for about three years. Then, bio mom and dad got divorced when I was uh… ten. Dad met stepmom and they got married when I was twelve." Gavin says, squinting slightly when he has to think about when it happened. 

He knew that Hank and his ex-wife had gotten a divorce before she died. Hank had said that they stayed friends even after and when she was diagnosed with cancer he did everything he could to help. 

He didn't say anything, just nodded. "Also, I use to smoke. I quit before you showed up, but you probably would have seen me struggle with that if we were actually close." 

The words actually send a pang through his heart. He knew they weren't close, far from it, but it hurt to hear. 

"If you do ever need help with that, please let me know. I've been helping Hank with his alcohol problem." Connor suggests. 

Gavin hums and nods his head. "Yeah, I did notice that. Also, thanks. Tina was the one that finally got me to quit. Said if I didn't then she'd start smoking. Then she proceeded to kick my ass until I did." 

He could imagine that. Tina was very headstrong and didn't put up with anyone's shit, including Connor's. 

They continued to talk, sharing small things about themselves. It wasn't much, but he still learned more in those three hours than he had in the year he'd known Gavin. 

He watches as his stress levels slowly climb as they get closer and closer. He learned a lot, but he still didn't know much about each family member. 

So when they arrive at the house his stress levels are at 54%.

From the outside, this house looks magnificent. It has been built with walnut wood and has red pine wooden decorations. Tall, rounded windows add to the overall style of the house and have been added to the house in a mostly symmetric way.

The building is shaped like a squared ���S’. The two extensions extend into stylish gardens to each side.

The second floor is smaller than the first, which allowed for several balconies on the sides of the house. This floor has a slightly different style than the floor below.

The roof is high and square-shaped and is covered with wood shingles. One small chimney pokes out the center of the roof. There are no windows on the roof.

The house itself is surrounded by a modest garden,mostly grass, with a few flower patches and a children's playground. He can also see a large lake in the distance behind the house. There are three cars already parked. 

There are no other houses around for at least a mile, which is impressive. The land must have been expensive to buy. Gavin shuts off the car and Connor glances over. 

His eyes seem bright but his smile is tight. He fiddles with his keys before glancing over at Connor. "You ready? It seems my oldest brother and youngest are already here." 

Connor nods and gives a reassuring smile to Gavin. If anyone should need reassurance it's Connor, but he doesn't seek it out. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the goodies first, then his bags. 

Gavin grabs his own and their hands brush just slightly. Connor quickly pulled his hand away as it tingles just slightly. 

Gavin freezes for only a second before shutting the trunk. They walk up the driveway and to the door, Gavin knocking on it once before walking it. 

Connor walks in behind and shuts the door softly. It has crisp white walls, timber floors, and high ceilings. A large staircase goes up to the second floor. Even with it being so neat and tidy it still has a sense of home to it. 

"Gav, honey, is that you?" A woman calls out. She rounds the corner and Connor scans her. She must be Gavin's stepmom. 

She has a round heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and a dominant forehead. The width around her temples is wide, with her face becoming narrower towards the chin. Her smile makes her cheekbones and nose more pronounced.   

Standing short and solidly-built, this woman has a warm feeling about her. She has alert and light brown eyes, and her hip-length, curly, black hair is styled with a fade. 

She rushes over and pulls Gavin into a hug, which he reciprocates, dropping his stuff on the ground. 

When she pulls back and looks over Connor, she doesn't seem to hesitate over his LED. He was definitely caught off guard when she wraps her arms around him. It's a bit awkward and Gavin grabs the trays from between them so she could hug him fully.

"It's so good to meet you; call me Shona. I hope you're doing well. We all saw what happened on TV and I must say- It was very impressive what you did, and I'm proud of you. I also know that that was dangerous as fuck and if you die before you two can get married I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself." She says as she steps back. 

He… honestly has no idea what to do or think. He wasn't expecting this at all. It was nice to be accepted so easily, but still shocking. 

"It's… it's a pleasure to meet you. Gavin has told me a lot about you, but I'm very glad to finally meet you in person." He says, smiling. Gavin takes a step closer to Connor and puts an arm around him. 

"Mom, can we at least put our stuff down? Also, Connor made these for you guys. If you don't eat it, I will." He said, holding out the trays. 

Shona gasps and takes them, smiling up at Connor. "Oh, you sweet boy. I like you even more. Gavin, you know where your room is. Go put your stuff down then come say hi to your siblings," she says, shooing them off. 

Gavin chuckles but does as he's told, leading them up to his room. He opens the door and lets Connor in before closing it with a small sigh. 

He has a bed with black sheets and red pillows. There is a dresser with a PS4 and a tv on it, and some NCIS and Criminal Minds FunkoPops. 

He has a framed written out copy of the Miranda rights, several Marvel posters, DPD Calendar, a picture of him and Lieutenant Fowler with signed 'See you after academy Reed!', and a rainbow flag with a burnt corner.

Connor then looked at the corner bookshelf with different trophies on it- mostly second place in track and first place in various dance competitions, and also photos from plays he was in. 

What is noticeable is that there is only one bed. That was fine with Connor as he didn't actually need to sleep, but he'd probably end up at least sitting beside Gavin. 

He places his suitcase down on the ground in front of the bed, and the duffle on it. "Alright, guess it's time for you to meet them," Gavin says. 

Gavin doesn't even look at Connor as he takes his hand, leading him out and back down the stairs. 

He leads them into a square living room that has mismatched metal furniture. He notes the seating is plush and looks very comfortable. The floor is wood and the walls are painted and decorated with a wallpaper border.

The whole room is done in warm colors and overall has an elegant look. He scans the faces and stops on one, going rigid. 

"Ah, Connor. What a pleasant surprise. It's been a while since I've seen you last. Congratulations on the successful revolution, you all exceeded my expectations." Kamski says, standing and stepping forward. 

Connor's really glad he's holding onto Gavin's hand already. If he wasn't he definitely would have grabbed it and he wouldn't have known how to explain himself 

"Kamski. I- I had no idea you were related to Gavin. He mentioned you, but never by name." He hears Gavin sigh, but he squeezes Connor's hand just slightly. 

"Well, I'm certainly glad to have been able to see your reaction. Deviants are so fascinating. I wonder what else we'll learn about each other." Kamski takes another step forward towards them. 

Gavin rolls his eyes and uses his free hand to slap the back of his brother's head. "Stop being so damn cryptic. He's here as my date. Speaking of, where the hell is Chloe?" 

There's a rustling from where he assumes is the kitchen then Chloe quickly walking in and saving. "Sorry, sorry. Was helping with some prep. Gavin, you look well." She said, stepping up to give him a half hug. 

She turns to Connor and her eyebrows raise. Connor still remembers the feel of Kamski's hand as he pointed a gun at another Chloe. She wasn't the same one, but it still brought the memory back. 

"Connor, thank you for helping free our people." She says with a warm smile. He scans her and has to blink a few times. She's the first one. She's the original Chloe. It shouldn't surprise him that much, and he looks at where Kamski has a protective arm around her and his eyebrows raise. 

So Kamski was with Chloe. He didn't know for how long, but that was definitely interesting. Had she always been deviant? Did Kamski plan for the revolution? 

He then turned when a young woman made herself known. She has a square face with a pointed chin, a small nose, small ears, and small lips. Her blue eyes are prominent, and she has thin eyebrows.

Her hair is black, dip-dyed almost the full length with shades of green is medium-length- thick and un-styled.

She also has pierced her right nostril with a shiny green gem in it. There’s also a tribal tattoo across her chest that he can see behind her strapless spring dress. 

She nodded to Connor before walking up and flipping off Gavin. Gavin just flips her off in return with a grin. "Sup, fucker. And nice to meet you, Connor, I'm Kassia but just call me Kas." She holds out her hand to shake, which Connor does. 

"Right! I'm glad you all met. Be nice to each other or else." Shona says sending a glare at each before turning away and walking back to the kitchen. 

It's slightly awkward just standing there, and thankfully Gavin takes the lead. He pulls Connor into the couch, sitting so close he's practically on top of him. 

Kamski and Chloe sit close together and Kas sits on the rocking chair, pulling out her phone. 

"So, Connor, the last time I saw you you were still denying your deviancy. Obviously, you got past that, how have you been?" Kamski asks. Chloe huffs beside him and flicks his cheek. 

Connor can't help the small smile at seeing the two interact. It was so different than how he had treated the Chloes at his house, that must have been somewhat of an act.

"I've been well. After the revolution, Gavin and I got together. He's helped me quite a lot with discovering new emotions." He smiles and glances at Gavin, giving him a wink before turning back to Kamski. 

Kamski is staring at the two of them like he's trying to solve a puzzle. 

[Probability of family finding out the truth: 47%]

"Right. Well, I'm happy for you. You did eventually find Jericho, without my help. I'd say congratulations on that, but we both know you didn't originally go there with the purest intentions." For that Chloe smacks him on the back of his head just like Gavin had done. 

Kamski rubs his head and sighs, "I didn't mean it like that. I know he wasn't in control, obviously. Just trying to make conversation." 

"Well, you’re shit at it." Gavin and Kas say at the same time. They both shot each other a glance before snickering. 

"So mean, you see what I have to deal with? Maybe now that you're here someone will finally appreciate me." Kamski sighs dramatically. Chloe just playfully glares at Kamski. "Also, call me Elijah, Connor." 

That will definitely be hard. This is the man that created him, creates his whole species. He may have even created deviancy. Calling him by his first name just seemed… odd. 

But, he would do it anyway, "alright, Elijah." 

Connor is momentarily distracted when Gavin leans his head on Connor's shoulder, playing with their intertwined fingers. Connor watches then turns and places a kiss onto Gavin's head. 

Gavin looks up, slightly surprised before smiling. He leans up and presses a quick kiss to Connor's cheek. 

He feels his core start to heat up and takes a few slow breaths. "Fucking hell, you two are sappier than Elijah and Chloe." Kas gripes from her chair. 

Connor flushed and tried to hide his face, which just brings him closer to Gavin. That definitely doesn't help his blush, at all. 

"If you two start having sex on the couch I will leave." Kas whines. 

"I would watch if you weren't fucking my brother." Another slap to the head from Chloe. 

Connor turned even more blue, trying to get smaller. He had expected a lot of things. Hearing his creator say he'd watch him have sex with someone wasn't one of them. 

"Fucking ow. He's pretty, you can't deny that. Gavin got a good one. Actually, the highest advanced model there currently is." Kamski says, pouting at Chloe. 

Gavin growled and clung to Connor even more, glaring at Kamski. "Calm down, Gavinator I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend." 

[Probability of family finding out the truth: 45%]

"Fucking koala." Kas mumbles. Gavin flips her off again and she does the same right back. 

Gavin nuzzles into the crook of Connor's neck and he has to control himself from reacting. 

He is ace, but he still would react when touched in a typically sexual manner. So he clamps his mouth shut and gently strokes Gavin's hair.  

"You're really warm," Gavin mumbles, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes. 

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "of course I am, you know that." He tries to get his point across and it seems to work. Gavin's eyes got wider and he glanced at Kamski. 

He's thankfully distracted by braiding Chloe's hair. It still shocked Connor to see Kamski so… human, as ironic as that is. 

Chloe, however, was paying attention and she just subtly tilted her head at him. 

‘He doesn't know, does he?’ He hears her voice in his head ask. 

He glances down at Gavin, then back to Chloe, shaking his head just enough for the other to see. ‘No. He lied and said he had a boyfriend, but didn't. Then asked if I would pretend to be his.’

It wasn't like he could lie now, somehow she had figured it out. That was even more frustrating than he anticipated. He was supposed to be the most advanced model, yet he was found out within the hour from the first android. 

‘You should tell him. Neither one of you is good at hiding it.’ He honestly wasn't sure what that meant. Could she see that Gavin didn't actually like him? It hurt, it hurt so much, but he had to keep a straight face. 

That completely flew out the window when Gavin pressed a quick kiss to his neck. He jolted and grabbed Gavin's hips, sending him a glare. 

Gavin just looked up at him with an innocent smile, like he hadn't done anything wrong. 

His neck and the around his thirium pump were extra sensitive, though he wasn't sure why. He did have more wires there, so maybe that was it. 

"Mom! Connor and Gavin are gonna have sex on the couch!" Kas calls out. 

Shona pokes her head around the corner and points at them with a spoon. "None of that. Want to do that, find a hotel or at least do it quietly in your room." 

"Sorry, Ma'am," Connor says right as Gavin also speaks.

"Right, sorry Mom." 

"Connor, it's Shona or Mom, don't call me that ma'am bullshit." He was slightly surprised how similar Gavin's stepmom was to Gavin. She also reminded him, somewhat, of Hank. 

Connor nodded quickly, and she smiled at him before going back into the kitchen. 

"Kas, I know a lot about Kams-Elijah, but not much about you. What do you do for a living?" He could pull up her file, but he wanted to hear it from her. 

"Lawyer. Yeah, shocking. I liked arguing so much I made it my job." Kamski snorts at that. "Shut it, Eli. Anyway, I've got my own firm and everything. I mostly work the big cases, but recently I focused on helping out androids. It's not much, but I try." 

Connor felt like hugging her. He hadn't expected any of Gavin's family to be so supportive, but he was glad to see they were. Not too surprising since Kamski was the one who made them. 

"That's very sweet of you, and if you're willing- I can tell Markus and I'm sure he'd appreciate the help." They had android lawyers, but it could help to have a human one. 

Kas smiled and nodded her head quickly. "Yes! I'd love that! Thank you." 

Connor nodded and already started writing a message to Markus. He and Markus had gotten close after the revolution, so it wasn't odd for the two of them to message each other throughout the day. 

"Gav… grandma will be here tomorrow, just wanted to warn you." Someone says. Connor jumps slightly and looks over. 

He scans him and comes back with a name: Frank L. Reed. Standing 5' 5" tall, he has a serious feel about him. He has an oval face, a narrow nose, and narrow lips. His pale grey eyes are hooded and he has thick eyebrows. He has short, greasy, brown hair and a receding hairline. 

He feels Gavin stiffen and looks down at him. He looks around and sees that Kas, Kamski, and Chloe are all sitting up straight. 

They didn't seem afraid, it seemed more like habit, though they did all scowl at the mention of their grandmother. 

"Right, thanks," Gavin says, giving a small nod to his dad. Frank looks around and Connor and see a very small smile on his face as he looks over his children. 

His smile drops when he looks at Chloe, then Connor. "Chloe, and Connor? Good for you to both come." His voice is clipped but Connor can tell he won't pick a fight. Good enough for him. 

"I'm glad to be here. It's an honor to meet you, sir." Connor says, trying to be as open as possible with Gavin clinging to him like his life depended on it. 

Frank hums, then turns his attention to Kamski, "Shona in the kitchen?" Kamski nods and the smile is back on Frank's face as he heads towards the kitchen. 

Once he's out of earshot everyone goes back to how they were before, Gavin being completely slumped against Connor. 

"He's not the fondest of androids being alive. I think it's just… well, he sees things very black and white. It's hard for him to think of a machine as alive." Kas sighs. 

Not surprising, but he did seem like a good man. He didn't have a criminal record either. "That's fine. I'm just glad he didn't kick me out," he chuckled. "Or try to shoot me," he mumbled. 

Gavin tensed but looked up with a worried expression. Connor rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. He really didn't blame Gavin for that. He was actually glad he tried to stop him as he had found it helped lead him to deviate. 

"There's definitely a story there. Gavin, did you try to actually kill Connor? I bet he used his… negotiation skills quite well." Kamski snickered. 

Chloe turned and glared at Kamski before sighing and letting it go. "I wasn't actually deviant yet, though I had tendencies. Gavin had come to stop me while I was attempting to find Jericho. It ended with him on the ground, and not in the fun way." 

Kas snorted and smiled at Connor. "Hell yeah. Sucks he had to do that, but good job at fucking him up. Wait… fuck, not like that. Ugh!" Kas dropped her phone and started scrubbing at her eyes. "I did not need that mental image."

Gavin snorted and rolled his eyes at his sister. "You're the one that said it. And yeah, he did fuck me up. And then later he very mercilessly fucked me up." 

Kas's face pulled like she just ate a lemon, which he didn't blame her for. He was blushing at the implications and he knew that if he had a brother he wouldn't want to hear about his sex life. He didn't even want to hear about his own pretend sex life. 

"Gavin!" He scolded, pinching at the skin where his arm held him. Gavin yelped then started crackling. 

It was probably one of the cutest things he's ever heard. It wasn’t soft or angelic, but gruff and unrestrained. He'd heard Gavin chuckle and scoff before, but it was never like this, so open. 

Gavin's laughter was infectious and soon Connor started snorting then full-on laughing with him. This caused him to curl slightly into himself, squeezing Gavin. 

Kas then started snickering and Kamski rolled his eyes but smiled at them. 

There was this… warm feeling in his chest. He felt it before, with Hank and Sumo, but it was still jarring. He knew nothing was wrong, and his temperature didn't even go up. So, it was an emotion. 

He'd brought it up to Markus one night after it had gotten almost overwhelming. 

Hank, him and Sumo had decided to visit Jericho. They had sat together and laughed, and surprisingly North and Hank got along well. Well, better than well. It was actually very amusing to watch. 

He had watched and felt that warmth bubble up, and at the end of the night, he had to pull Markus aside. Markus had always said that he could come to him with any questions. So he asked. 

Markus had nodded and smiled softly before pulling Connor into a hug. "Family and belonging." Was all he had said. 

It made sense, he thought of all of them as a family and he no longer feared not being accepted. The people of Jericho made it quite clear that they accepted and forgave him. 

So he currently felt that warmth and he hadn't realized he stopped laughing when he noticed Gavin's had died out. 

He knew he must look stupid with the fond stare he was giving Gavin, just holding him. He also worried that Gavin would be able to tell that this wasn't fake. Androids could do a lot of things, but they could never fake love.

[dancingalone21]

Lau’s AU Funny Quote Challenge

I hit 2,000 followers! I can’t believe it!!! Ya’ll are fucking amazing and crazy for following me. Thank you so much. It means more than you know :)

To celebrate I’m doing my first challenge. You write an AU fic using a funny quote from Supernatural! The list of quotes to choose from is below the cut.

RULES:

1. You don’t have to be following me but it would be nice ;)

2. It needs to be an AU (alternate universe).

3. Reader insert only. Dean, Sam or Cas. Whoever’s quote you pick, he will be your character.

For example: If you pick a Dean quote…then your fic will be Dean x Reader.

4. Include the funny quote in your fic. It can be smut, fluff, angst, etc.

5. Minimum word count - 1,000 and maximum - 8,000.  It can be a one shot or the beginning of a new series. Please use the Keep Reading feature.

6. Fics will be due by Friday, March 24th.

- Please put Lau’s AU Funny Quote Challenge in your first few tags so I can reblog and comment.

- Please tag me and mention the challenge in your author’s note so I don’t miss it.

 HOW TO ENTER:

Send me an ASK with:

– The number of the funny quote you choose and a backup in case it’s taken.

Please no messages or comments if you want to participate. Ask only! It’s easier to keep track. Thank you :)

1. “There’s times I wanna get slapped during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask.” Dean @sslytherinprincess

2. “Don’t make me lick your damn face.” Dean @winchesterenthusiast

3. “Oh sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.” Dean @chaos-and-the-calm67

4. “Shoulda cleaned the pipes.” Dean @daydreamingintheimpala

5. “I’d like to think it’s because of my perky nipples.” Dean @thewayward-winchester

6. “Is this like a Magic Mike moment?“ Dean @elizlyn

7. “Why do you care? You’re junkless down there, like a Ken doll.” Dean @exorcisethedemons

8. “Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s every Friday night for Sam.” Dean @pureawesomeness001

9. “Next time you want to get laid…find a girl that’s not so buckets of crazy, huh?” Dean @pureawesomeness001

10. “Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers.” Dean @whispersandwhiskerburn

11. “Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap.” Dean @huntersdomain

12. “I say we get drunk and shoot crap.” Dean @kas-not-cas

13. “Don’t objectify me.” Dean @luci-in-trenchcoats

14. “Man, I am friggin velvety smooth!” Dean @donnanoblerocks

15. “Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that.” Dean @spn-fan-girl-173

16. “Oh crap, I’m a painted whore.” Dean @deanwinchesterforpromqueen

17. “You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people and douchebags.” Dean @buckysmetallicstump

18. “I’ll man the flashlight.“ Dean @dauntlessdiva

19. “Are you having a stroke? Do you smell toast?” Dean @winchester-writes

20. “I have this code. No cash for ass.” Dean @ariannnawinchester

21. “It takes two to have, you know, hardcore sex.” Dean @scxrchy

22. “Are we gonna fight or make out? Because I’m getting some real mixed signals here.” Dean @atc74

23. “The whistle makes me their god.” Dean @supernaturalyobessed

24. “I think you could have totally hooked up some MILF action there, bud.” Dean @avasmommy224

25. “I think you pissed off my sandwich.” Dean @quick-act-supernatural

26. “That was scary!” Dean @roxy-davenport 

27. “That attitude right there. That’s why I always got the extra cookie.” Dean @torn-and-frayed

28. “Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that...” Dean @smuttymarvelousfanfics

29. “You think I want to end up in a hotel bathtub with my kidney carved out in Chechnya?“ Dean @babi-correia

30. “You know me...I’m a posse magnet. I love posse.” Dean @inmysparetime0

31. “I’m actually kind of drunk. Me likey.” Dean @daddyslittleraven

32. “Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again.” Sam @moonlitskinwalker

33. “You’re not the only one who’s dated someone bendy.” Sam @abbirae99

34. “Dude, I’m not enabling your sick habit. You’re like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies.” Sam @xfanqirlinq

35. “You’re gonna need a bigger mouth.” Sam  @sebastainstantrash (xsavanah)

36. “And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland.” Sam @mrsbatesmotel53

37. “I lost my shoe.” Sam @assbutts-and-impalas

38. “Can you even get drunk anymore? It’s sort of like drinking a vitamin for you, right?” Sam @frickfracklesackles

39. “So which one are you? Grumpy, Sleepy or Douchy?” Sam @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel

40. “You’re bossy...and short.” Sam @shannon-kind

41. “I would love to have the sex with you.” Sam @isis278

42. “It’s a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean.” Sam @paigeinastory

43. “Dude, you’re not gonna poke her with a stick!” Sam @assbutting-everything

44. “I found a liquor store…and I drank it.” Cas @billcosbystears

45. “Please accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity.” Cas @megafrontliner311

46. “If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear?” Cas @melonshino 

47. “I need you to let me touch it.” Cas @cantchoosejustonefandom

48. “You seem troubled. Course that’s a primary aspect of your personality so I sometimes ignore it.” Cas @just-another-busy-fangirl

49. “This isnt funny, Dean. The voice says I’m almost out of minutes.” Cas @mysteriouslyme81

50. “Why are you squeezing me with your body?” Cas @fangirl-faye

Have Fun!!!