#BH Fanfic

[mandareeboo]

Unfinished Work #60: "Untitled" (Finished)

I never felt up to publishing this, but I've been rewatching BoJack and felt it'd be good to put here! A little goodbye to an old friend between Hollyhock and Diane.

Title: N/A

Summary: N/A

"Sorry about this," the horse said. "You're probably really busy with writer things."

"You wanna know what I was going to do before coming out on the porch to have a smoke and chat with you?" Diane asked dryly. "I was about ten seconds away from telling my husband I was going out onto the porch to have a smoke. It's not even half the inconvenience you think it is."

"Oh," she responded, and fell silent.

Diane let out a gust of lung cancer in a long, drawn-out sigh. Texas is pretty in postcards but hotter than the sun in person, with the added bonus of all sorts of creepy crawlies straight out of the official nightmare catalogue, but it's kind of nice? There's trees everywhere. Lots of open, bumpy land. The spider currently weaving its web a few feet from her isn't even venomous- it's an orb weaver of some sort. All in all, better than death.

It'd be nicer if her company talked, though.

"Let me guess," Diane prompted, making her jump. "You're Hollyhock, right?"

"Bojack told you about me?" Hollyhock asked, ignoring her question.

"He told all his friends about you. He was really excited to have family he didn't loathe with all his being."

"Oh," she repeated, softer this time.

"Relax, you're not gonna end up on his wiki page or anything. And, for what it's worth, I'm really happy to meet you in person. You're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Hollyhock looked at her hands, where her phone was situated, then back at Diane. "Bojack's told me about you, too. He talked a lot about a lot of things, but you especially."

"And that made you think I had answers?"

She shrugged helplessly.

Diane took another drag. "You want the truth? He's an asshole. Whatever you feel or suspect about him is absolutely vindicated."

"Yeah." she said. "But I miss him anyway. Isn't that... awful?"

"No? I don't think it is. I mean, the part that sucks about people is that they're more than just one thing. Sure, Bojack is a sleezy, emotionally-abusive jerk who's slept with almost every woman he's ever met, but he also sends stupid little text messages about stuff he saw on his drive home, and one time when he got drunk he sang the lollipop song and it was actually the prettiest thing ever, and he helps you pack even though he complains the whole time. He's all that shit."

"He once threw his mom's doll out a window."

"I know. He told me."

"He did?"

"He's always drunk-dialed me. Fifteen years now, and I'm his drunk-dial SOS." Diane considered her cigarette a moment. It was her first one of the day. A new record low. "I never met her, but I spoke to Beatrice twice- for his book."

"Oh, yeah, that thing. I never read it?"

"It sold alright, but it wasn't the next great American novel. Anyway, I called the retirement home to get a statement- got the phone number off of Bojack's long-time manager and friend Princess Carolyn- and called. This was before the dementia really ate up her brain- think, I dunno, almost nine years before you knew her- and she was still pretty sharp. I said, 'hi, this is Diane Nyguyen, I'm ghost-writing a novel about your son, Bojack' and she said, 'what, is he too lazy to write it himself'?"

Hollyhock winced. "Woof."

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Diane flicked some ash away. "We went in circles a bit, but eventually I laid it out for her. 'Mrs. Horseman', I said, 'I'm writing about your son's life, and as such I have called to see if you had any note-worthy stories or quotes you'd like to add'. She was pretty quiet for a minute. Then she said, 'sure, why not, I'm dying anyway. Might as well debase myself even more.' She told me all about her husband, Butterscotch-"

"Bojack never said much about him."

"There wasn't much to say, honestly. Bojack took after him and he always hated himself for it. Beatrice despised her husband for being unfaithful, bitter, and sexist. And she told me, 'now, put this in your little book, girl, and put it word-for-word. Bojack took after him, but he had the sense to be a bit quieter about it; which is a bit like saying the hissing roach is less disturbing to the eyes than the American one because it eats leaves instead of garbage. They're both insects, and they're both a waste of the paper their books were written on'." She paused. "Gotta say, she was damn eloquent."

Hollyhock winced again. "Double woof."

"It's the one story I never put into One Trick Pony. Not because I thought she'd regret saying it, or because it wouldn't fit the tone of the book, but because I knew it'd rip Bojack apart. Even back then, I was putting him above my own job. He has a way of worming into things like that." Diane stamped out the rest of the smoke, then pulled out another one. "I used to smoke like a freight train, but now it's only when I get worked up. Sorry about the second-hand."

Hollyhock was quiet again, but this time it was more pensive than anything else. "I... wrote him a letter. I actually don't even know if he read it, because he kept sending me voicemails telling me he would, but he never told me he did before I changed my number. I thought it'd be over. I thought I was moving on, but..."

"Moving on isn't the same as moving away," Diane said. "Trust me. I've packed houses before. But even now, I still find myself looking for him in the news, or thinking back to the good times we had."

"Mhmm. He tried to learn sports for me, you know? Because he wanted to cheer me on. And that still means a lot to me. But then I remember that interview, and I just... I just can't do it. I can't talk to someone who's done stuff like that."

"That's completely in your right! I know you're a grown-up, but you're still pretty young, you know? Bojack's in his fifties. His problems shouldn't be on anyone, but they especially shouldn't be on you."

"You won't tell him I came, will you? I know you're friends, but..."

"I think your definition of friendship is a bit different from us, kiddo. I mean, we haven't spoken in almost a year now. I just go see his movies, and he sends me long rambling reviews about my books, and we follow each other on social media."

"That feels like friendship," she concurred. "Mrs. Nyguyen?"

"God, don't. Diane."

"Diane. Did you and Bojack….?"

"Nope. But not because he didn't want to. I was dating when we first met, and married a good chunk of the time I lived in L.A. Now I'm married again. If I hadn't been... well, he would've tried, if nothing else."

"And you?"

She pursed her lips. "There was a time where I lived in his house and spent every day getting shitfaced drunk, and nothing skeevy happened. He'd come home, I'd be drunk and when was Bojack not drunk? We'd drink more and we'd watch reruns of Horsin' Around. I liked that. It wasn't healthy, but I liked it. And I liked him. I try not to think too hard about it, but... I dunno, honestly."

Hollyhock pulled her knees to her chest. "I came here hoping to find a way to stop missing him. Now I just miss him even more? I hate emotions."

Diane smiled. It was bittersweet. "Now you sound like a true Horseman."

[paintedpatroclus]

“so, sokka clings to him, and sighs contentedly when zuko clings back.” from breakable heaven, chapter 10 by @sokkalore

how’s everyone holding up zukka nation …

[fictionalsownme]

"Whump" | connor rk800 x reader | WIP BLURB

I don't post him all the time, but the connor brain rot is pretty bad lol I also really like whump and I saw this pin on pinterest and that's how this was born hehe. again, not really finished! abrupt ending but you can guess where it goes, established friendship, in my head the reader is a secretary at the DPD but it's not referenced. female reader, reader uses she/her pronouns.

disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!

"Connor!"

You found his body slumped on the floor against the wall, his head hanging at an awkward angle.

There was blue blood… his blood everywhere. It was so bright against the blackness of the dirty floor that it almost seemed to glow.

"Oh my god--"

You ran to kneel at his side, nearly slipping on the thirium under your shoes. His legs were straight out like a broken doll's, you could see patches of his plating where his skin had retracted in the damage. Trying to manage your breathing, you gingerly cradled his head, lifting his face to meet your gaze. It was worse than you thought.

Retracted skin revealed massive damage to his white under-plating. Scratched and dented and caved-in. Blue blood was splattered across his face, it poured from his nose and over his lips to drip off his chin. It was immediately clear he wasn't conscious, with glazed over eyes and a slack jaw.

Whether he was in a sort-of standby or already dead you had no way of knowing.

You peeled open his jacket to reveal the center of his chest where thirium pooled the thickest in a gaping, mangled crater. Down to his lap and spilling over the dusty cement. You had no idea what his inner wiring was supposed to look like, but you knew it wasn't this.

"Fuck-- Connor?" You held his cheeks, your crying already starting up fresh once again. "Connor, can you hear me? I don't-- I don't know how to fix you! Connor?"

No signs. No light from his LED, no flickering of his irises, nothing.

You were sobbing in earnest now. Hiccupping and shaking and breathing in harsh, shuddering breaths. You grabbed your phone, trying not to scream when your realized your hands were covered in blue blood. Connor's blood. Your best friend's blood. It took you too long to use your phone, with multiple pauses to wipe your sticky hands on your jeans.

When it finally began to ring, you cradled it between your ear and shoulder. You weren't sure what your hands could do, so you started wiping the blood from Connor's face. Away from his eyes, off his cheeks.

"This is Markus."

"Markus! It's me, you gave me your number in case of emergencies-- It's Connor, he's-- Connor's hurt, he's not awake and there's blue blood e-everywhere and I don't know what to do, I don't even know if he's--"

"Wait, wait-- slow down, where are you?"

"I-I don't know! Some random abandoned building off of— fuck— Riverbank Drive? Connor's been missing all day since he picked up this case by himself and I retraced his steps and I-- fuck, Markus-- I don't even know if he's alive!"

"I need you to tell me his condition so I can get some biocomponents for him-- can you tell anything from what you see?"

You balled the fabric of his jacket in your fist. You swallowed hard, "His chest looks really bad-- it’s all m-mangled and, and empty? He… He's lost a lot of blood— God, Markus, tell me he's not dead."

"I'm on my way with some help, alright? Send me your location and stay with him. If he wakes up, keep him still until we can get there, you got it?"

You sobbed again and nodded, covering your face with a blood-drenched hand. "I'll be here, I promise."

After Markus hung up and you sent him your location, he assured you he was coming as fast as he could.

You kneeled there, clutching the material of Connor's sleeves and crying. You were so useless. For all you knew, Connor was already dead, and you were here, holding his empty body. Androids were more resilient than humans, sure, but all living things had a limit. You'd never stopped to consider Connor was anything other than indestructible.

You heard Markus' footsteps echo through the empty structure some minutes later. You had managed to reel back your hysterical sobbing down to silent tears with some measured breathing but your resolve was… precarious.

"Markus! Over here!”

You didn't see him until he rounded the corner, Simon in step behind him.

"Jesus Connor--" He hissed as he ran to join you at his side. He had a case with him, which Simon got to work opening. Parts and tools, packs of blue blood.

"What happened?" Markus asked you as his eyes flickered over Connor's form, no doubt scanning his injuries.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the tears streaking down your cheeks and the blood on your hands, legs, face. You couldn't take your eyes off of Connor. "I don't know."

"Someone must've taken him by surprise--" Simon began, beginning to dig through his supplies. "Could've been some kind of electrical signal, got the jump on his hardware, lagged him out before the fight even started."

"Is he gonna' be okay?" You asked, now just holding onto the edge of Connor's jacket sleeve while Markus and Simon got to work.

"I don't know. Could depend on how long he was shut down."

Markus' hand reached deep into the cavern at the center of Connor's torso. He pulled out what must've been a biocomponent, mangled beyond your recognition. He passed it to Simon, before grabbing what you hoped was a new one from the case.

He swapped out a few pieces like that, all unrecognizable to your untrained eyes. Until finally Simon was holding one you knew. You'd forgotten it's name, but it belonged in the center of Connor's torso and regulated his heartbeat. That's how Connor had explained it anyway.

Before he situated the final part inside his chest, Markus spent some time repairing Connor's plating and wiring. Adjusting placements, bending pieces back into place, sometimes welding seams just enough to function. You stayed quiet, staring blankly at Connor's limp hand resting on the floor next to yours.

Useless.

You were utterly useless.

You started when Markus kur-chunk-ed the regulator into place in the center of Connor's chest, his hands angling back and forth to ensure the connection.

The faint sound of machinery blossomed out from his center. Quiet humming and whirring, like a computer booting up.

His face was mostly angled toward you but you couldn't see his LED. Markus and Simon were still at work. Connor's eyes still looked glazed over and empty.

You eyes caught on some movement toward the cement. His fingers twitching.

"He's awake," said Simon suddenly. "Keep him calm."

You looked back to his face, and while he still had that unfocused expression, there was something in his eyes. A clue that he could see you. Well, maybe sort of see you.

"Connor?" You tried softly. Your throat was tight with the promise of more tears. That familiar tingling in your nose, the watering of your eyes. "It's me, I'm here with Markus and Simon. You… You're safe."

"What…" His voice came out staticky and metallic. Like it was passing through an old radio. He blinked, slow. "What happened…?"

You swept a hair away from his brow. You hoped in his state he couldn't feel your trembling. As scared as you were, you didn't want to frighten him any further. His head turned just that little bit more towards you. His LED was a dim crimson.

"You got hurt. But you're gonna be fine. We're gonna take care of you."

His eyes fluttered, and he was that little bit clearer.

"You found me?"

You wanted to say 'barely', wanted to say 'by sheer dumb luck', wanted to say 'I almost didn't. I almost killed you'.

"Always."

"Alright, Connor, you're going to start to stabilize a bit,” said Markus finally as he seemed to finish up the last of what work he could do.

He slowly, slowly, turned his head to meet Markus' eye. Like a ghost.

"When you can stand, let us know. We need to get you back to Jericho for more repairs."

"Is he going to be okay?" You couldn't help asking again.

"Now that he's awake, as long as we get him to Jericho soon, he should be fine," Simon reassured. "You're going to be fine, Connor."

“Someone attacked me… I didn’t see their face… don’t remember…”

“It’s okay,” you added gently. “Take it slow.”

“They could still be here.” And his hand took yours in a staggering motion. Weak and slow and disjointed.

“We’re here, Connor.” Markus put his hand on his arm. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”

Even like this… Even with all this pain he was still worried about you.

“I can stand.”

You wanted him to take it slower, to not push himself too hard, but the sooner he got to Jericho the better.

You stumbled back, dropping his hand as Markus and Simon went to either side of him.

They slotted their arms under his and behind his back, helping him to his feet. He actually groaned a bit at the effort. It was a deep, staticky sound you’d never heard from him before.

You walked with them like that, trying not to start crying again. You went a few paces ahead of them to open doors and check around corners as the four of you made your way out.

Every time you glanced in Connor’s direction, he was already watching you with a clouded expression. The look was only made more intense by the smeared blue blood across his face and in his hair. You prayed you’d never see him this hurt again in your life.

“What’d you get yourself into now, my friend?” Markus’ voice carried a slightly teasing tone.

“Bad day at the… office… what can I say?”

When you made it outside to the crisp Detroit air, a car was waiting. You practically jumped in, punching in the destination to Jericho while the two men helped Connor into the car as delicately as they could. You eased him in from your side, bracing him against you. Another strained sound fell from his lips. He was still bleeding, and his lap quickly started to pool with blue blood once again.

“Fuck, Connor…” The whisper escaped you before you could stop it, your hand bracing against his dented plating where the thirium seeped from the seams.

“I’ll be alright… please, just… stay close…”

You pressed your lips together to stop more tears from surfacing. “I will, I promise.”

In some weird way, you’d never felt so close to him before. The two of you were just friends obviously, maybe even best friends, but right now… You felt like he could ask you anything— anything in the world— and you’d do it.

You thought about helping him sit up straighter, but instead kept him held against you. And he leaned into the hold.

The ride to New Jericho couldn’t go fast enough. It wasn’t a boat anymore, so at least you didn’t have to go as far as the docks. The now embassy-style building was closer to the heart of Detroit, and fully fitted with an android hospital, outreach programs, offices for the new android officials (the most prominent, of course, being Markus). A base of operations of sorts.

You’d been once before with Connor, hence how you got Markus’ number. You would never be able to thank him enough.

[fyther]

Conmer

And some sketches

And knight connor, definitely gonna tweak the design abit more

[gayalanwake]

but please, you know you’re just like me

[stefbaker]

I WROTE SOMETHING NEWWW

.. I had already published it but I had to correct it because it was written wrong (I will never publish sleepy again)

[just-a-funny-little-brain]

No "Guilt" in "Team"

Critical Role: Bells Hells, Orym & Ashton, 1k words

Summary: After the encounter with the creature at the bottom of the lake, Ashton can't sleep, and apparently neither can Orym. Ashton gives him a pep talk, in their own way.

tw: Ashton-typical swearing, Orym-typical guilt

Read it on ao3

---------

Ashton hated sleeping on the ground. It had been manageable when he was younger, but The Accident made every pebble, every ridge dig in to every sore and aching joint of gold. To be fair, the Shard had improved things marginally. The amplified bit of Titan blood seemed to encourage a few of those rocks and ridges to smooth out, just a bit. But it wasn’t exactly comfortable.

They sighed and adjusted the pack under his head. The Hells, dripping wet, had been too tired to try making a fire, so the only light in the alcove came from Mister’s flame and Imogen’s barely-glowing Ruidus tattoos. 

Ashton closed their eyes and willed sleep to come through their bone-deep exhaustion, but the adrenaline of the fight hadn’t fully worn off and still had him keyed into the surrounding sounds. Fearne’s soft snores, Chet’s louder ones, Laudna’s quiet “I’m on watch” humming, Orym’s — 

With a frown, Ashton shifted so he could see the halfling. He was, as usual, curled in the crook of Fearne’s knees, blanket around his shoulders, and sword not too far away. But Orym’s normal deep, even breathing was gone. Instead, Ashton could see him tensed, shoulders shuddering with each breath.

Ashton glanced at Laudna, but she was off in her own world, cleaning Sashimi intently. He sighed. Sleep was being evasive, and, well… misery loves company, right?

With a muffled grunt, they shifted a bit closer to Fearne’s heat. Carefully he reached out a hand, before noticing that the halfling wasn’t asleep at all. Instead, he was curled tightly into a ball, clutching something in his hands, and… crying.

Shit.

Ashton stifled a groan. They barely knew how to help people with normal-ass emotions, much less all the ridiculous shit the Hells have had to deal with in the last few months. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, doing their best to not wake their companions who have managed to sleep.

Orym froze. After a moment, he forced a breath and looked up at Ashton, face silently asking a question.

Ashton shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep and it seemed neither could you. Asking if you’re okay is stupid because none of us are fucking okay right now. But… shit i don’t know, do you wanna talk about it or anything?” 

He sighed and looked at the ground. After a long moment, Orym nodded nearly imperceptibly. 

“Oh. Uh, okay.” He hadn’t quite thought about what would happen next. “Do you wanna move? Or just stay here? Or…?”

Orym huffed something that could almost be called a laugh before slowly sitting up and extracting himself from Fearne’s legs. Pulling the blanket close around his shoulders as he left the druid’s circle of heat, he surveyed the crumbling ruins, before heading for a suitable place.

Pulling their own tattered blanket from their bedroll, Ashton followed. The air in the ruins was mostly comfortable, but no sense in getting any colder than necessary.

Soon, Ashton joined Orym sitting against a nearby partially-collapsed column. The halfling had his knees up and the blanket pulled tightly around his shoulders like a second skin. Despite having suggested the move, Ashton felt large and unweildy next to him.

Finally, the halfling spoke. “I talked to Dorian. At Dorian.” He took a steadying breath. “While we were in the village. Sending was working again, so after Imogen finished talking to people, I…” 

The engravings on the stone had left angry red imprints in Orym’s palm. 

“That’s... good?”

Orym curled, somehow, tighter. “I thought he was there, Ash. It makes absolutely no sense, how could he have been there? But I was convinced. And I... left. I was fully ready to abandon the rest of you and just go to him. Anything could have happened, anything could have attacked, and it did attack, and I was too caught up in wanting to see Dorian that I didn’t recognize it.” Orym forced a shaking breath.

Ashton rolled their neck as they tried to think of how the fuck to respond to that. Finally, he settled on:

“You’re really fucking good at this guilt thing.”

Orym blinked. “What?”

“You’re really. Fucking good. At feeling guilty. None of this was your fault. We all decided together to stay in the town. We were all exhausted, it’s pure fucking luck that it didn’t manage to get all of us.”

“But--”

“You act like you’re the only thing standing between the world and us all falling over dead. We’re a fucking team. It’s not all on you.”

Orym turned the sending stone over and over in his hand. Finally, he said quietly, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be heard, “I don’t know what to do if I’m not protecting someone.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Ashton winced as his ribs complained. “Look,” they said gently, “I’m not saying you can’t protect people. But don’t guilt yourself to hell and back and get yourself killed in the process.” They smirked. “Besides, if you get yourself killed, who’s going to protect us?”

Orym rolled his eyes and bumped gently against Ashton’s side, carefully avoiding the worst of the tentacle marks. “You give shit pep talks,” he said, any venom undercut by the release of tension from his shoulders.

“Can’t be that shit if it helped,” they retorted. 

Orym huffed a laugh, then sighed. “We should really try to get some sleep,” he said quietly.

Ashton groaned. “Yeah.”

Standing, Orym offered a hand up to the genasi.

“I-- sure. Thanks.”

It was awkward, but eventually, stiffly, Ashton got to their feet and immediately regretted how long they had been sitting still in that alcove.

Orym peered at him. “You okay?”

Ashton grunted noncommittally. “Good as any other week of sleeping on the ground.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

We’re a team.  

They sighed at their own words. “Unless you snuck an actual fucking bed into the Hole in the last two days, I don’t think so.”

“At least put my blanket on the ground. I’m next to my own personal furnace, I’m not getting cold,” he said with a small smile.

TEAM.

“Yeah fine, okay. Can’t make it worse.”

Slowly, doing their best to not wake the rest of the Hells, they both made their way back to their sleeping spots. 

As Ashton was finding the least uncomfortable arrangements of blankets and rocks, he paused as Orym spoke. 

“Hey Ash?”

“Mm.”

“Thanks.”

A small smile crossed their face. “‘Course. Anytime.”

[frost-queen]

When androids love (Reader!Anderson x Connor/RK800)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: After a fight with your father Hank, you leave the house. Connor takes it upon him to find you. He finds you at the carnival where you ask for him to join you on the Ferris Wheel. Once at it, you ask Connor if androids can love? After some hesitation he tells you they can't. Having obviously lied since he has deep feelings for you, he makes it clear with a kiss.

The door slammed loudly. Storming through the house like a hazard. Your father right behind you. – “Get back here!” – he called out with a stern finger. – “No!” – you shouted, looking briefly at him. – “It is always the same with you!” – you made clear, making your way through the kitchen. The loud noises made Sumo lift his head up. – “Y/n get back here!” – Hank insisted upon, chasing after you. You spun around roughly. – “Don’t give me that bullshit! You aren’t going to change, you never are!” – Groaning loud, you made your way to the living room.

“It… Y/n!” – he started going round the table to catch up on you. In the hallway, he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you to a stop. Out of breath he spoke. – “It were a couple of drinks.” – you pulled your hand out of his grip. – “That is what it always is. A couple of drinks, Dad!” – you shouted at him. – “You never stop! You just keep saddling yourself up with that kind of shit!” – you outed in so many frustrations.

They had been bottling up and tonight was the final drop. – “I…I am trying!” – he pleaded. Sumo approaching nearer behind him. You shook your head with a clenched expression. – “Not enough dad.” – your words making him cower.

“You are losing everything in the process, and you can’t even see it!” – you told him seeing how he was turning to himself. Shoulders slumped with shame. Avoiding of eye contact. The subtle turn of his posture away from you. – “I’m just going to say it!” – you pushed on, having so enough of his troubles. – “You are a drunk!” – you cursed out, throwing the front door open. Hank fell to his knees, clutching onto his chest. Shaking his head in misery.

You stormed out of the house into the cold night. The door opening further by the wind. Hank sat himself down against the wall, letting his face fall into the palms of his hand. Sumo barking into the night, hoping to call you back. Sumo sat himself down in the doorway, silently barking for you to come home. The doorway had caught some snow by the time Connor came into the street. Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t been answering his calls.

He decided to have a look for himself, knowing for sure he would be a home. Just a few more houses and he’d be there. His LED started to flicker a bright yellow at the thought of you. Smiling, he hoped you’d be home as well. Aware of his own thoughts, he put them to a stop. His LED settling for blue once more. It was against his program to experience this. Whatever the humans liked to call it. Affection? love? It was something an android was not taught.

He arrived at the driveway, coming to a sudden stop. The door wide open, Sumo sitting guardingly in the doorway. Connor’s LED switched to a vibrant red as he ran up to the driveway. – “Y/n!” – he shouted firstly. He didn’t know why. Something instinctively inside of him wanted to call out to you first. – “Lieutenant Anderson!” – he then shouted coming up the steps. Sumo barked loud as Connor came to a sudden stop before him.

With his hand, he pushed the moving door all the way open. His eyes falling immediately on Hank sitting on the ground. Sumo moved back, allowing Connor to enter. – “Lieutenant! Lieutenant!” – he called out, kneeling in front of him. – “Has anyone broken in?” – Connor asked, looking around while he scanned the room for any signs of a burglary. His LED still raging with red, he grabbed Hank by his shirt. – “Where is Y/n? Is she save? Did they take her?” – he called out, glaring at Hank.

Hank started crying at the mention of your name, making Connor let go of him. He sank down to his bottom with worry. If something had happened to you, he wouldn’t know what it would do to him. Lately he had been feeling himself drift away from the program installed in him. Acting on his own decisions and ignoring direct orders. Perhaps he was becoming a deviant? He wasn’t sure.

“She’s gone…” – Hank spoke ashamed. – “Walked right out of that door.” – he motioned to the door. Connor widened his eyes with hope. If you simply walked out, it meant you were not taken… right? – “I messed up again Connor…” – Hank sighed, sitting pitiful. Connor turned his attention to him, taking a good examine of him. He concluded that Hank had been drinking again. – “Lieutenant…” – Connor spoke. – “I know… I know…” – Hank answered, waving his hand sloppy. – “I shouldn’t have… it is just…” – he took a deep breath.

“She’s not coming back… is she?” – he asked Connor. Connor got on his knee, moving closer to him. – “She will. Y/n loves you very much.” – he told him. Hank chuckled saddened. – “She called me a drunk.” – he said wanting to laugh about it, but it only brought him sorrow. Connor got up, looking out of the door. – “I’ll find her and bring her home Lieutenant.” – Hank looked hopeful up to the android.

“I suggest you get a bath and clean yourself up before I return with Y/n.” – Connor insisted upon. Hank nodded helping himself up to his feet. Hank dragged himself to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Sumo caught Connor’s eye. – “Don’t worry Sumo. I’ll find her.” – he leaned down to scratch the dog behind his ear. Sumo barked once making Connor smile. Connor closed the door behind him, starting his search for you.

You took a deep breath, sitting on top of a picnic bench. Watching the bright lights all around you. From your right you heard a loud bell sign. Two girls cheering loudly at their win. The man behind the counter handing them their prize. A large stuffed animal. They seemed so happy; they couldn’t wait to take a selfie with the stuffed animal. It made you smile faintly.

Right in front of you was a booth that sells popcorn and balloons. A father was walking past, holding his daughters hand. She was hopping around joyfully, holding a blue balloon. The scenery punched you in the gut, reminding you of your own dad. Perhaps you have been too harsh on this this time?  It was just always the same. Him telling you he was going to change and him never able to keep his promise.

Sighing loud, you looked up to the night sky. The screams of people on the rollercoaster on the other side of the pier filling the noise. You were just so angry because you cared. You didn’t want to lose your dad to a drinking problem. He should know that. Sighing again you stared down, trying your best not to cry.

Connor pushed gently some people aside. Pace quickening as he tried to make his way through the approaching crowd. – “Y/n!” – he called out. – “Y/n!” – he said loudly, pushing himself past a man. You furrowed your brows, hearing your name being called out. Looking up, you frowned as Connor made his way through to you. – “Connor? What are you doing here?” – you asked once he was near. He smiled relieved.

“Looking for you.” – he answered. – “So you heard…” – you said holding your knees. Connor took of his jacket, placing it over you. He then came sitting beside you. You moved his jacket better around you, taking a deep breath to inhale his sweetness. – “Y/n…” – Connor started. – “Please don’t.” – you cut through making him frown. – “If you are here to tell me to forgive him… I’m sorry but I just can’t…” – you told him. Connor turned his posture towards you.

“Come home.” – he said grabbing your hand. Shaking your head, you got up. His hand slipping off yours. – “I can’t… I…you wouldn’t understand.” – you answered. Connor couldn’t help but feel a bit sucker punched at your words. How he loved to understand. He got up as well, not caring if some people were turning their heads at the android getting closer to the human. He took your hand, holding it up near his waist. – “Then we do not leave yet.”

You smiled glad Connor understood. You took a deep breath, looking around. Your gaze fell upon the Ferris wheel. The bright lights looking so romantic in the night while it slowly spun around. – “How about the Ferris wheel?” – you suggested, taking his hand better. Connor looked past you, up to the large spinning wheel. – “Don’t tell me you are afraid of heights?” – you asked chuckling. – “How could I?” – Connor answered.

Connor felt himself slightly blush when you kept holding his hand, guiding him to the entrance. He stood in the waiting line with you. He suddenly froze as an order reached him. He stared back at you seeing you look up to the Ferris wheel. In this moment he had a choice to make. React to the order and leave or ignore it and remain here. His LED flickered yellow. How was it that he was even considering this option. It should normally be clear. React to the order and leave. Yet everything inside of him wanted to stay.

Connor closed his eyes briefly. – “Connor the line is moving.” – you said making him open his eyes once more. You furrowed your brows slightly at his expression. Connor smiled walking closer to you. He came joining your side, moving further up the line. It seemed he had made up his mind. Perhaps he was indeed going rogue. Turning into a deviant… just to be with you.

It was your turn to get on as Connor allowed you to go first. He sat beside you, waiting for the Ferris wheel to move. The sudden movement made him grab the bar in front of him. You laughed silly. Connor laughed for himself, easing up by just seeing you smile. The Ferris wheel started to spin as it brought you higher. The view was breathtaking from up here. You could see so many bright lights of the carnival down below. In the distance the skyline of Detroit. Connor was rather looking at the mechanics, scanning them for safety.

You caught it, nudging him hard. – “It’s not going to break.” – you teased. Connor nodded turning his gaze to the front. The wheel kept turning as you slowly came to a stop at the top. You moved his jacket tighter around your body to shut the cold out. Up here the breeze was colder than below. – “Connor…” – you said making him hum loud. There had always been this burning question on your lips. Perhaps now was the time to ask it. Out of ear and view of everyone else.

You turned more towards him, Connor doing the same, eager to listen. – “I was just wondering… can…can androids…” – you swallowed nervously, almost afraid to ask it. – “Love?” – you added. Connor paused, processing your words. What should he answer? – “No they can’t.” – he answered making you quirk your eyebrow up. Something inside of you told you he was lying, but you decided to ignore it. Your gaze drifted away from him, back to your surroundings.

Connor slid a bit closer to you, catching your attention. You furrowed your brows when he grabbed a hold of his jacket around you. He pulled at it, turning your posture more towards him. He tugged hard at his jacket so that you fell a bit forwards with your upper body. He closed his eyes, receiving your lips against his.

They felt cold at first, but once you got used to it, they felt warmer. Connor pulled back, staring lovingly at you. – “I lied.” – he whispered making you smile. – “For I can feel it for you so it must be real.” – he added eying your lips. Without thinking, you grabbed him by the neck, kissing him again.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[mikejudge]

content warning haterism ⚠️ i don't get why you would read the wiki, read fanfics, and watch video essays about a show but not want to actually watch the source material itself?? just watch it at that point its not gonna bite you 😭

[crypticjuniizz]

[multi-fandomedfreak]

Im curious, do you write for female characters? If so, can i request dating headcanons for kara and chloe from detroit become human? I love them and they are so underrated :(

Authors note: I usually don't write for female characters since I'm not attracted to women but I was thinking, yknow what? I don’t need to be attracted to them to write about them lol. Kara and Chloe have a special place in my heart and they deserve love too! I also got a request similar to this a while back and maybe I'll answer that one too

Characters: Chloe x reader and Kara x reader

⚠️Warnings⚠️: pure fluff

☀️ Chloe ☀️

-She’s a little awkward here and there at the start of your relationship

-She’ll often tell you facts about whatever it is you guys are talking about bc she thinks you’d like them

-Probably has cut you off mid sentence to tell you and feels really guilty afterwards

-If you’re fine with it, boy, you better be ready to get info dumped

-If you don’t like being interrupted, she’ll try her best to hold back but would probably slip up here and then

-It’s so painful to see her try to hold back from interrupting you 😭

-She’s trying her best tho

-I feel as if she’s the type of person to remember tiny details about you

-And get you something/ do stuff for you based on that detail

-For example, if you fleetingly mentioned how you miss something about your childhood

-She’ll buy and/or do something based on that fact

-If your telling a story or talking about something, she’s hanging onto ever word

-If you don’t like talking you don’t have to worry because she loves talking

-I also feel as if you’ll often find her lost in thought, she likes thinking about things

-For Chloe, late night conversations are >>>>

-And soft conversations on a quiet morning???? Literally her favorite thing to do

-Oh she’s definitely the type of person to just go into a looooong conversation about a movie after seeing it

-Expect this if you guys ever have movie dates

-Oh btw she doesn’t like making eye contact for long lol

-ESPECIALLY after kissing you, gets her very flustered

🧸 Kara 🧸

-Protective mode: activated

-Like seriously, she is SOOOO protective of you

-Probably doesn’t get jealous bc she trusts you

-But doesn’t trust other people very easily (for obvious reasons)

-Sooo that’s why she always feels a need to protect you

-If your ever feeling stressed out or just feeling down, she likes to tell you stories to take your mind off of it

-Loooves to call you endearing nicknames

-Especially ones that you respond more positively to (I mean…obviously)

-She loves cooking for you a lot

-But she will literally shine with happiness if you surprise her by cooking for her

(let’s just pretend Androids can eat)

-Loves loves loves lovesss giving you a goodnight kiss

-on the forehead, on the cheek, on the nose literally anywhere on your face

-I feel like she would love to be gifted stuff

-She loves doing stuff for you and all but being given gifts just means so much for her

-Morning cuddle sessions are her drug

-Can’t go a day without em

-Such a family oriented gal and would absolutely be head over heels if you treat Alice like your own

[deryuj]

Follow the curves

You wish you could focus on your case but truth be told, Connor is far too distracting.

(Or Connor is helping you with your case while you sketch him in your notebook instead)

Rating: General audience

Ship: Connor x gn!reader

I started my summer job and realized I have a lot of free time so I actually wrote a fanfic because I was bored. Enjoy!

p.s. Last time i wrote a fanfic was in 2017 and english isn't my first language, lol.

It's been three hours since you stepped your foot into the squeaky clean department. Also, it's been two hours and fifty-five minutes (minus ten minutes you spent making yourself a coffee and five minutes you took for a bathroom break, which was an excuse to just get up from your workspace and do something different) since you made yourself comfortable by your desk and started working again with the weird writings and drawings you found last night at the apartment, left by what you suspected was a deviant. Looking at the same set of lines for hours turned them into uncomprehensive scribbles and doodles at this point so you couldn't make anything out of them anyway. You needed to do something else rather than stare absent-mindedly at the same page for the next five hours until your shift is done.

You wish you could say you were going in circles with this investigation but honestly, there was no circle you could even walk in in the first place.

How frustrating.

With a soft sigh, you turned your gaze to your right where Connor sat way before you even arrived, his blue LED shining and flickering as his brown eyes stayed glued to the screen. It was funny that for an android he insisted to use computers to scroll through information like the rest of the DPD did. He didn't have to, it was probably more time-consuming and less efficient to do so, but somehow it was so endearing that he makes sure to act as human as possible and blend with the rest of his coworkers.

You haven't really spoken to him today though, he was assigned to you strictly because of the notes you discovered, it was the longest you have been in his presence, which is a bummer. Usually, you would see him casually follow Hank like a puppy, hand folded behind him, long legs easily matching his anger, quick steps, and a soft smile that was always plastered on his face. You weren't sure if he was designed to always smile or chose to do so, but you decided to believe that he wants it that way. Now though you could see that soft smile and adorable chocolate cowlick up close with him working mere centimeters away from you and you couldn't help but smile yourself.

Cyberlife sure did a great job designing him.

Connor was the newest addition to the team, assigned to help the lieutenant in his cases, which definitely did not make him happy since he oh so loved his broody and lone wolf reputation. You were pleased though, you never had a chance to work with an android (and you kinda never exactly did until now). You liked Connor, maybe more than you'd like to admit, and you found yourself doubting the whole 'friendship' if you could even call it that. Yes, he was an android and he definitely wasn't programmed to like everyone (based on his previous interactions with Gavin) but somehow you found yourself hoping that after all the small conversations you shared he, at least, considered you a friend because he liked you, not because his program told him so. Were you even making sense at this point?

You let out a soft sigh, reaching out to grab a half-empty cup of stale coffee before your eyes glided back to working Connor. He hasn't moved from his stiff position since morning, his warm eyes fixated on the computer screen, subtle nose twitches, jaw tightened, smooth hand gripping the notes you wrote down yesterday as he silently analyzed the same set of information written in your handwriting over and over again before looking up at the computer screen, trying to find some kind of clue on what exactly the deviant was trying to write down or show.

As if it was that easy to understand the maniacal scribbles they left behind before running away.

He looked so focused, so eager to prove himself and his skills to everyone that he completely shut himself off from the whole department and new information from his surroundings for now so nothing will take him out of the process of decoding the messages. You were almost curious if by any chance he knows you're watching him so shamelessly or if he even realized that you joined him by your desk to help almost three hours ago.

He was cute, really cute, and in some way you felt a little weird with choosing this word to describe a grown man, or more specifically someone designed to hunt down deviants and do it without any hesitation.

You'd rather keep your observations to yourself rather than get embarrassed though that's what you told yourself with your inner voice.

You comfortably leaned against your palm, letting your gaze dance across all the soft and sharp edges of his profile. His small, pretty nose, freckled artificial skin, pursed, plush lips, and extremely long lashes. Someone put all these details down into this single design just to make fun of you and your silly little crush on an android, that you were almost sure has no algorithm that could by any chance make him like you back. It was stupid, really, but God was he too pretty to not like.

Never mind your earlier praises, you hated Cyberlife for this design.

You felt your cheeks heat up just from thinking about this, definitely not your smartest thought of the day.

You tilted your head to the side, your hair moving with your move as you glanced at him from a slightly different angle. Still pretty. Dang.

One line, second line, join these two with another line.

Without thinking much your hand danced across your handy notebook, your pen leaving gentle lines and curves as you tried to memorize his pretty features. You weren't an amazing artist but you could at least make it resemble him. That's all you needed to do. You needed to convey his pretty profile somewhere where it won't disappear, somewhere you'll be able to look at whenever you'd feel like it, and not when Hank would get up from his desk to go to your communal kitchen with his partner in hand.

You poked the thin paper with the tip of your pen, spreading small, inked dots across his sketched cheek, dragged curled lines from his eye down to his cheek to mimic his long curtain of eyelashes, and made sure that the curve of his lips was the curviest, kissable line you ever drew on paper.

Your silly attempts caused you to let out a quiet snort. I mean the sketch wasn't bad… it's just that you finally caught up with what you were doing that caused you to realize that you were acting like a lovestruck teen if not worse than that.

Stupid- said your more sober side.

You still proudly looked down at the small sketch of Connor that popped up in the corner of your notebook, it was no longer accurate though since the model decided to finally rise his honey-filled eyes away from the screen and face you instead, clearly curious about what made you laugh during a long, boring investigation.

"What's wrong detective?" Your eyes snapped back up at his seeking expression, right in the middle of him tilting his head to the side as he would usually do whenever asking a question and being actually curious about it.

Now what?

"Ah" passed your lips before you could catch yourself. What exactly are you going to tell him and make it sound not weird?

"You draw a lot?" He took your silence as an answer and leaned in to trail his eyes along all the sketched lines, his lips curling into a soft smile to your dismay, a soft whir erupting from his chest.

You silently flipped your notebook to the next page, lips pursed as you turned your face away from him to hopefully regain your ability to say something smart rather than babble while looking at his handsome face. And yet he still watched you, or more like observed you, analyzing your mouth twitch, gaze shift, and muscle tense. Clearly, he was getting what we would call 'nervous' at his seemingly failed attempt at making a small talk and you couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Sometimes, helps me think or get myself to reboot" He could somehow understand the concept, maybe because you used a techy word he had some experience with.

He hummed in response, shifting comfortably in his seat, almost like he could feel his muscles sore from staying in one position, and looked down at the blank page, as if the drawing was still there and he was still taking in every single stroke of your pen.

"You are quite talented" He seemed honest, maybe there was a hint of something else, and you couldn't help but chuckle. There was something so innocent behind his words, he almost sounded excited to face a new quirk humans had.

He always liked those. The quirks. Things that made people unique and so interesting.

"I guess once I retire I'll move out somewhere quiet and spend the rest of my life painting landscapes" You mumbled sarcastically, your eyes rolling as you tried to get Connor off his path to compliment you more. He would always be painfully nice to get people to like him and accept him in the department. It worked, sure but you don't need him to get you flustered at work where people can see. Especially where that asshole Gavin can see and use it to make you annoyed.

He let out another soft, vibrating hum at your small joke, leaning down to comfortably lean against his smooth hand. He was thinking, processing and rinsing your words to find a suitable answer to your lighthearted response and hopefully match your tone.

"That sounds nice, I'm glad that for now, I can enjoy your work here at the department." He replied and you let your lips form a smile at his response. I mean you could interpret it as if he wanted to work with you more. You wouldn't complain, your work quality would suffer though. Or maybe you're looking too hard into it.

"Have you tried drawing Hank before?" You let out a sharp exhale from your mouth, your laugh stuck somewhere in your throat, safe from being let out to the world. You weren't sure if it was a joke or not, if it was it was funny, if it wasn't then it was cute but still, you don't want him to feel bad for laughing at him.

Connor didn't mind, in return, his plushy lips quirked up into a bigger smile, doe eyes narrowing as the smile finally reached them while he happily watched you light up after working with papers.

"Don't know, I guess I'll ask him if he wants to model, sounds like a cute date" You wanted to continue the banter, it was somehow of an anomaly to see Connor try to joke like this, hopefully, you weren't expecting too much of him. On the other hand, hopefully, Hank didn't hear that because even though you two are friends he'll scold you for joking around at his expense and giving 'the android weird ideas'.

In return he let out a quick, soft chuckle before clearing his throat to get back to his professional self, his pale cheeks dusted with a soft, blueish color. Seems like he doesn't want to make you feel bad for laughing at you as well.

"Sounds like a lovely evening" He admitted before falling silent once again, his brown, gooey eyes now staring deep into yours, analyzing you. In moments like this, you were always envious of how he can pretty much see through you and see what you think while you're left with his pretty face and zero ideas on what might be going on through his head.

"Let's… check the notes again and work through it together" You finally suggested, trying to put the awkward conversation (on your part) behind the door and focus back again on your actual job. You let Connor shift closer to you, his shoulder bumping against yours as you flipped pages back onto the one with your infamous little drawing.

Seeing the real deal up this close made you realize how much longer his lashes actually are, how his lips are far more softer than what you left on the paper and how many freckles you haven't even put down on your drawing.

You should probably try again, maybe at home.

Maybe with him in your apartment.

[slushie2awesome6969]

UHHH

GUYS SHOULD I READ IT OR IS IT TOO RISKY???

[pastawhore69]

gay aliens find each other cute ‼️‼️

bring motivation to me !!!!!

[gayalanwake]

I think I might have a mental issue

[tiredassmage]

"six" sentence sunday

It's close this time, I swear. >.>

anyway. @hyrohkaah made the "mistake(?)" of getting me on about tyr and the traitor arc again and tyr's complex about meaning it when he says I'll do anything for you wouldn't leave me alone again, so I had to (finally) write something about it. tyr traitor arc haunting me threateningly from beneath the floorboards waiting to grip the ankles of my unsuspecting mutuals with claws i mean what?

smth smth past meets present. smth smth tyr honey do you want to talk about seeing your ex-girlfriend again when you thought she'd finally escaped the Game?

The uniform has changed, but still designated rank. It would be almost a decade, wouldn’t it..? Their eyes part briefly to assess those around them. Others of the Order are filing out, unloading crates of fractured past lives, of plans to start anew. Maybe they were lucky to have something material. Her lips nearly jump at the corner - and her ducked head isn’t quite hiding it. When he steps closer, she finally gives him a once over, head to toe - healed, but new to her scarring, more tired eyes, a look a little more rugged and a bit less military. “You’ve been busy, Cipher,” she breathes - somewhere between stern and teasing, like both are wrestling to try to crack her voice. Tyr hums, quirking a brow. “Retirement’s too quiet when there’s a war or three on.” Her eyes narrow slightly, but there’s toy at the edge of her lips again, “And yet I’d heard you did retire.”