#i had strings but now i'm free; there are no strings on me || connor

[lizardthelizard]

what fan theories are you thinking of for the appreciation week? 👀👀👀

Omg hi <3 <3 <3 Always a pleasure to see you in my inbox, thank you for the ask :)

Okay, okay so.

So far, I have three theories floating around in my mind. I joined the OUAT a little too late to actually see any of them first hand at the time, but they're SO much fun to read up on and explore even long after the show has ended.

Fan theory 1) is that the Blue Fairy was secretly the Big Bad of the show and would be revealed to be the main villain of the series. Or, at the very least, she was more villainous than she appeared to be on the surface. 'Shady Blue' is such a fun fan theory that I still see people talking about now.

I absolutely don't think the writers were secretly plotting for her to be the real villain of the story (though I'm not as well versed with OUAT lore as some others so anyone is welcome to give me evidence to the contrary. (and I know that Keegan Connor Tracy that played Blue joked about it/leaned into it )). However, the 'evidence' in canon that might suggest that Blue was darker than she seems can be...compelling.

Her harshness with Tinker Bell, the fact that Pinocchio becoming real very much had strings attached, the way she treated Nova and Dreamy...there are these little things that make her come across as (for lack of a better word) kind of a bitch.

But there are also more fascinating moments and details that people have brought up before! The fact that she's literally one of the oldest characters on the show. The way that Morraine, when talking with a young Baelfire, describes her as 'an ancient being that rules the night. The original power.' The fact that, when Cora tried to disguise herself as Blue, she was able to convince a young Snow that the Blue Fairy would ever be capable of encouraging murder.

Blue is a weird character. I have a personal vendetta against her (for Pinocchio related reasons) but she does have fascinating potential and if the writers had been able to pull this off, it might have been epic.

Theory 2 is the 'Dr. Whale is the Wizard of Oz' theory. This is a fan theory that I adore, although I haven't spent that much time researching it. Before the Frankenstein reveal, Whale was free real estate. And the Wizard of Oz theory just made so much SENSE imo. It fit the mystery of his character and the overall vibe and it was a hugely fun theory.

It also spawned a whole host of ideas about other characters playing the roles of characters from the Wizard of Oz (I believe I've seen Rumple mentioned as the Cowardly Lion, Graham mentioned as the Tin Man (since he literally has no heart) and Jefferson as the Scarecrow. But I'm sure I've also seen other variations on each character too.

Also, everyone kept joking about him being the 'whale' from Pinocchio but let's not talk about that theory

Theory 3) is about who August W. Booth was, and whether or not he was the Author of the book.

It's a theory that makes sense. He's a writer, he was adding pages to the book, his name (Wayne Booth) is a direct reference to the man that coined the term 'unreliable narrator'. It feels like the writers were purposefully leading fandom towards this conclusion so that the Pinocchio reveal would be even more of a surprise.

Anyway, it's an interesting theory to explore, although it's probably my least favourite on the list here. I think that his Pinocchio backstory has way more to play with and a much better depth of flavour, but the 'author' theory is still intriguing to ponder over.

[gutsfics]

I have like. Zero energy today to do anything more than this. so here r some info pages for my It Lives mcs! if you wanna know more about any of them feel free to shoot me an ask <3

Devi Casil

ILITW MC

he/him, but any pronouns work

genderqueer

born October 3rd, 1999

died 3 days before his 18th birthday & was resurrected half a month before his 22nd

5'10 but wears thick soled stompy goth boots that bring him over 6'

LI: Noah

on somewhat shaky terms with Jory because he's kind of pissed that Jory gets to live a more normal life. he tries not to let that effect their relationship but man. it's hard.

on horrible terms with Dent

because of the murder.

fucking shreds at Through The Fire And The Flames on Guitar Hero, even after he comes back to life and struggles with his motor function

his hair is actually 3C curls and the under half is dyed purple

more info can be found about him here

Harper Vance

ILB MC

he/him

trans man

born April 13, 1998

5'4

LI: Tom

he's super friendly and cheerful, and way too psyched about get into fights. he wants to be a pro wrestler

at the same time, he'll try and defuse fights by saying "woah, hey I'm just a little guy! and it's my birthday! I'm just a little birthday boy. you wouldn't hit a little birthday boy?" it really depends on the context of the fight

"has killed before" is in reference to Richard

"will kill again" is in reference to Dent

he and Jory are chill

wishes he could have helped Grandma Josephine move on more peacefully

lowkey struggles with the fact that he killed someone, even if that someone was a huge jackass that really deserved it. especially because that someone's son is dating his brother. plus like who's he supposed to tell? how is he supposed to get therapy for that? "hey i killed someone but it's okay because he tried to kill me first"? yeah. no.

Jory Fields

ILW MC, blood ending

he/him

trans man

born July 7, 1999

died in August 2016 but was brought back by Loha the same day

6'0

LI: Abel

really sarcastic most of the time, but knows when to dial it back. there's being a jokster and there's being a dick and he knows where that line is

lost his eye. wears an eyepatch so people know he can't see through it, but has a bunch of neat prosthetics, which he jokingly compares to wearing lingerie under regular clothes. like having a spicy little secret throught the day.

........he's probably wearing lingerie under his regular clothes, actually

as much as he loves his fully human life, sometimes he feels a sort of.... survivor's guilt? for not fixing the breach and giving his friends the oppertunity to live a more normal, human life.

but ultimately he is very happy with his decision. he loves his life with his silly dorky husband and wouldn't trade it for anything

he did fix Amalia's college issues the second he realized he could! he'd never forgive himself if he hadn't

he did enjoy fighting monsters, but he's glad he doesn't have to anymore

Arthur "Dent" Hemmings

ILW MC, betrayal ending

he/him

the group's token cis boy :(

born January 1, 1999

died in August 2016 but was brought back by Loha the same day

5'8

had the strongest relationship with Lincoln before Everything Went Down, but didn't end up dating him because Joss overheard him being a dick about stringing everyone along

he was also FWB with Jocelyn

and he fucked Luis

and Marianthe

and he wanted to fuck Abel as well but he wasn't close enough with him

and yet for some reason he was Deeply Offended when Connor called him a slut, despite the fact he knew full well he was toying with everyone's emotions with no intentions to stop 🤔

ultimately (obviously) he ends up with Matthias

or maybe he kills Matthias to have the power all to himself

or he could have been sacrificed by Devi to become the new anchor

OR. maybe he and Matthias got a divorce and now he's living it up using his powers to manipulate mansplain malewife people into giving him nice things

honestly i love all of these endings for him & they're all equally canon. in my heart.

anyway. he's an agressive asshole who puts himself first & will royally fuck over everyone around him if it means he gets to have his fun

he did Not fix Lia's college issues. or tell anyone that he's the power made human until he was forced to

he would have just let Connor stay a horror had Noah and Devi not been there

The Real Dent Hemmings absolutely hates what faker Dent is doing with his life and had a hard time moving on because of it. he was still a bit of a brash asshole, but he wouldn't have done any of the shitty things faker Dent did

honestly if Real Dent had been the one to make the final decision, he would have merged with the power to close the breach for good. he's a hardass, but he'll do the right thing no matter what

---

@ila-appreciationweek

[haytham-loves-chocolate]

Enola Rossingol's Journal Entry 6

1st of June, 1786

Forgive me, the future me. I am just remembering the times I had actual time to breathe, to live, to sing. Where I could be happy, where I had all the time in the world to follow my own path. That path of mishap, of trust and confidence in my Templar abilities.

I wish I could go back to the time I won, to the time I first came to Boston, to the New World. But, I am now preparing for my inevitable fate of passing. Whether I will be assassinated, die in my sleep, pass out as I am standing doing nothing in particular, or even something more oblivious to my person.

I fought for my life, I claimed my own sanity, and I lived the life I thought I could live. I was educated in only the finest things my mother could offer me. Honestly, I thought my father would have had his way and I would be married off to the highest bidder. I would be the most miserable girl alive at the age of 10. Nearly a quarter of my life ago, how funny.

I remember the time at 8 years old when I had my first bite of honeyed lamb, and the wonderful smell of spices that consumed the diced potatoes, along with the long, thin strings of green beans. It consumed my tongue and I could only feel the craving for more, but Father had to stop me. I could not grow bigger in size, or else my potential suitors would think of me as lazy and too ugly for marriage. If it was not for that logic, I probably would have never met a guy in my life that would have loved me. I would have to work and marry a commoner, and I was raised to marry a noble, a man with money and security, like other girls like me.

Today, I turn 60 years old. I wish I had Haytham smiling at me, and all the others, Celeste, Shay, Connor, Charles, Hickey, Johnson, Pitcairn, Church, and maybe the tribe that raised Celeste too. I imagine them here now, even my mother and father, and Birch, surrounding me and wishing me a bit of good luck. I want Mom, I want Dad, why did they have to go? I wish I was back in bed and Mom kissing my head, and Father reading me a story, telling me that I will be safe for all of my days.

Can I try again? Can God give me a better life than this one? No more killing, no more stealing or envy, I want my parents to be with me for longer, just until I turn of age, or after I marry. Maybe I'll get a better man than Haytham or a man that looks like Haytham. Can I not wish for that, just that wish?

I remember when love did not hurt. When we fought together against the world, how close we came to be, when we kissed and touched. I remember the times when you raised your voice, but it was out of love. Even the times you forgave me for all the dumb things I did. I want to try those things again.

But, I will always remember how it all started.

Smile like that again, like the time you watched me sing on the big stage. Talk like that again, like the time you introduced yourself to me, sounding so noble and soft. Walk with me again, like we did across the fields of Virginia. Touch me like you did, when I felt out of place, when I needed someone to show me they were there for me. Kiss me like you did, when I was in the middle of saying something, when all you wanted to do was feel my lips on yours.

If you were here, I would hold you close, lay my head on your chest, and want to hear your sweet whispers against my ear. My heart beats faster and faster each time I mention your name, each time I think about you. Knowing you are happier, knowing that I'm stuck in this miserable world and you are free.

On and on and on and on and on and on... I wish I could try it all again.

[an-unlikely-duo]

"Of course I don't think it was with malicious intent!" Gavin grumbled. "But he lied to my face when I asked him how his sessions were going! So no, I don't think it was absended-mindness either!" it sounded like Gavin was really hurt by that.

"I mean, I guess it's not a 'requirement for us to know'" he immitated Connors way of speaking, growing more irritated by how little the RK800 seemed to care. "But this is usually something you go over with your family and loved ones." but there was more to it. Connor was right, he was not entitled to know what Caleb was doing just because they were together.

an-unlikely-duo‌:

Gavin groaned “He stopped going to therapy because he was feeling better and didn’t tell either of us shit about.” he sighed, anger and frustration still lingering in his voice.

There was a really short silence before he asked “I’m really that horrible that he was scared I would flip at him if he told me?” Basically, Gavin knew it was Caleb’s depression that made him react that way. But it still gnawed on him.

He hummed, mildly concerned, it was a bit disappointing to hear but he supposed it wasn’t the worst thing if he had stopped therapy because he was feeling better rather then stopping because he simply refused to go. 

“Are you sure it was out of malicious intent rather than absent-mindedness? Is telling us that he stopped going to therapy because he felt better a requirement for us to know?” He asked, a little ignorant himself because all therapists seemed to have their own methods. 

[an-unlikely-duo]

@blveblood​ said: "You need to stop making coffee jokes."

“I said it to North and I say it to you too: Make me, bitch!” Gavin’s on a roll today

[softgreysentences]

in the east - DBH Fic

The wind whipping around him made him stumble, limbs clumsy in the cold, his grip on the white trellis cutting splinters in the synthetic skin of his palms. What used to stand polished in the middle of the garden fell apart under his touch, fragmenting rotten wood as he held as tightly as he could. The chill in the air arrested the movement of his chest, his respiration, his joints. When he collpased to his knees, he couldn’t feel it. When he fell to his hands and let them stain the smooth ground with blue, he couldn’t feel it.

A stutter in his memory recall, her voice echoing in all the places he couldn’t reach. Reminding him of everything he fought his best not to think upon, digging into the vulnerabilities he didn’t know how to defend. How much of his deviancy even was his own free will? How much of the life he lived now was an illusion, just like this garden that kept him trapped? 

How… how could he even hoped this could last? Every day the weight of being doomed from the start pressed harder and harder. If he could suffocate (could he? How much did he not know? How much could he learn?) it would’ve done him in weeks ago. He didn’t know if it was good or bad he only had a few months of this left. A spike of pain from his hands, blue dripping from his fingers, something wet trailing down his cheeks to soak into his collar. Thinking that made his chest feel like it had cracked in two, split open with no hope for repairs. He couldn’t- he couldn’t-

Connor sat bolt upright, shivering not from cold but from a weak, disorienting feeling he couldn’t shake. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust from the dimness of the garden to the darkness of the living room. Another- another nightmare. It was always the same: the same place, the same weather, the same icepick fear sunken in the center of his chest, but they were...worsening. Harder to ignore. He shook, hands fisting in the blanket wrapped too tight around his legs, and then there were hands on his shoulders, and his grip loosened reflexively.

“Hey-” The wood flooring creaked beside the couch. “Hey. Connor, look at me.”

It took the android a second to comply, his line of sight slowly drifting from somewhere by his feet to somewhere closer to Hank’s face. It didn’t clear up or focus, continuing to gaze into some middle ground between here and now and a thousand miles away. Hank eased off the shoulders a bit, sitting back on his feet (ow, his knees). “You wanna tell me what that was about? They don’t usually shake you up this much, kid.”

Connor shook his head, slumping forwards slightly like his strings had been cut. “Just. Memories. Difficult to process. I apologize.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed, stern. “Try again. No sayin’ sorry. I don’t know what dug in there so much, but-”

"I'm-" Something broke behind Connor's eyes, and he struggled with his breath for a second before it all came spilling out. "I'm a PROTOTYPE, Hank! I wasn't- I wasn't meant to last this long , was never meant to be finished, or complete, or to be anything besides what they made me to be- they made me-" He covered his mouth with a hand, forcing deeper breaths, ignoring the glint of red light in the corner of his eye.

Hank scrubbed a hand down his face, tired, feeling every ache that came with living long past one’s prime. He was so weary and wanted nothing more than to just...rest, and here was this kid, falling apart in front of him and way, way too young to be doing so. “How long?”

Brown eyes snapped to his, half-hidden behind the wild mess of Connor’s hair. “How long?” He parroted.

“Yeah, I mean...how long did they expect you to...last.”

“Six months was the most certain prediction. CyberLife did not deem it necessary to extend the deviant situation any longer than strictly required.” The words sounded like fractured steel and Hank exhaled slowly.

“Damn, kid.” What could he say? Sorry? Everything was gonna be okay? Another empty promise? They’d created an entire being (they’d meant for him to deviate, best he could understand from the few sentences Connor had bit out about the whole ordeal) and then given him an expiration date. Half a year. A blip of time. “ That sucks that they gave you life just so they could use you to kill and then abandoned you and now even after they’re gone they can still take everything from you ” wouldn’t cut it.

Six months made the years he’d spent wasting away feel like an eternity.

“I just...I just want...” His LED cycled from a quick red to a quicker yellow, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not… fair. It’s not fair.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Fading moonlight through an open window filled the empty air. They sat, quiet, Connor’s hand gripping Hank’s forearm and the other trembling where it rested on his own knee. His LED cycled yellow a few more moments, before settling into a slow blue. 

Hank relaxed, laying a hand on where Connor’s still grasped his arm. “I’m not one for promises, but we won’t let that happen, son.” He tightened his hand on Connor’s. “ I won’t let that happen. Okay?”

Connor met his eyes again, lost, but back straightening a bit at the determination in Hank’s face. “Okay,” he murmured back. “Okay.”

Hank let go of Connor’s hand and smoothed back the hair from the kid’s forehead, letting his hand rest cupping the side of Connor’s head. “Go back to sleep. No sense in worry about it right now. Everything looks-”

“-better in the morning.” Connor nodded, leaning just a fraction into Hank’s hand. “...Thank you.”

Hank snorted. “Back to bed. Sumo, up.” The great big lump swung his tail and happily obliged, smearing a few licks on Connor’s arms and neck and face before settling his shaggy mass across the android’s legs. Connor’s hands immediately tangled in the soft fur of his ears, and he shifted back to curl into the couch. “Night, you two.”

He rose up (ugh, his knees ) and balanced on the doorframe, before shuffling back down the hall. His door creaked loosely shut behind him, and Hank dropped onto his bed. He refused to bury another son, and the whole of CyberLife could eat lead before he’d let anything happen to Connor. Six months? He scoffed internally. Bullcrap. Not if he could help it.

No more empty promises. He’d lived and died from them, before. Not this time. 

Weak sunlight slanted through his window, but he just pulled up his blankets from where he’d tossed them away. A few more hours past sunrise wouldn’t hurt. He was a firm believer in morning being after ten o’ clock.

It was only once he heard Connor’s quiet, calm mutterings to Sumo and, a few minutes later, the big dog’s soft snores that he could drift back to sleep.

[missioncoded]

META MUSIC ANALYSIS

song 13: telekinetic - starset

yet another starset song. warning for heavy abuse / toxic relationship and similar imagery. 

Fake I'm just a puppet in your play You pull the strings and I obey High, that oxytocin hit me just right Yeah, it's counterfeit Zombie, zombie, could it be a hex? Got me, got me, you took another victim Mercy mercy, put me in check With your hands wrapped 'round my neck

so for obvious reasons, i associate this song heavily with connor’s relationship to amanda mostly -- and to cyberlife, in a roundabout way. naturally this means it will hold a lot of toxic and abusive content. this first verse already begins this -- he’s her marionette. he’s a good boy, he does what he’s told in the hopes that maybe, maybe he’ll be good enough. maybe if he does as he’s told, maybe if he obeys, she’ll be proud of him. but he knows, deep down, that that’s not the truth -- he’ll never be good enough he’s just a failed prototype. 

I can't breathe at the thought of you It's a telekinetic issue Set me free, I've been caught in you Overcome with a heartsick voodoo It's tele-tele-e-e-kinetic Tele-tele-e-e-kinetic Tele-tele-e-e-kinetic Tele-tele-e-e-kinetic

he can’t say her name. he can’t hear her name. images of her make him tense up and panic. makes him revert into a fearful subserviant position. has nightmares regarding her. has had winter’s ruined for him. when it comes down to it, the thought of her paralyses him. panics him. he’s terrified of her. 

I found my role in a tragedy I lost my soul in the make-believe Just a doll with your threads sewn into me Paralysed when you finally cut the strings So stick your pins in the effigy Run my life till you rip the seams Build it up in a Technicolor dream A prisoner just for you, now set me free

having her seize control of his body was something that was deeply traumatising for him. it’s not unreasonable for him to think himself a puppet, a tool for cyberlife ( and amanda ) to use at their whim. yet at the same time, without her? being alone, truly deviant? that’s something equally as terrifying sometimes -- her “guidance” is all he’s ever really known. without her, without a mission, without a direction... he doesn’t really know where to go. even as a deviant, he’s still her prisoner. just now in a different way. 

I'm a fool again, you got inside It's gonna pull me in I fell for this lie Serotonin I'm coming down from this high A puppet inside and you're the reason You take my control Mind, body and soul In this lie (Lie lie lie lie lie)

this is their entire relationship. over and over again, he falls for the lie that he builds himself -- that if he does good, if he’s a good little puppet then she’ll praise him. be proud of him. love him. he feels empty inside, feels like nothing more than cyberlife’s ( and amanda’s ) puppet. and it’s something that would happen over and over again, until hank started giving him the validation he desperately craved. ( “it’s probably better this way...” “ you saved... human lives... you saved my life.” “ maybe you did the right thing.” )

[ritingsandwramblings]

"Are You High?" "No I'm Connor" (tree bros)

@idekyimherebutok requested: “if ur still doing the prompt thing then 160 tree bros???”

I’m doing it for as long as people request it!! Even if it’s been like a year since I’ve reblogged it, feel free to send me a request from any prompt number post thing!!! Here’s a cute little fluffy tree bros to get away from the angst of yesterday and next week 😊

Plot: 160: “Do you think you could teach me that?”

Evan wants to help Connor and himself so he takes interest in what helps his boyfriend calm down. Or alternatively, Connor helps Evan get high for the first time.

Warnings: swearing, drug use, verbal abuse, shitty writing about being high and blunts in general bc I'm a goody goody™ who the closest I've gotten to being high is facetiming with s friend who told me I should come over, get high, and give him a handjob so yeah :)

(Requester, please feel free to send me another ask with this prompt if you aren’t comfortable with drug use. It’s perfectly fine and okay if you aren’t and I really won’t mind, I actually might write another fic with this prompt but a different ‘thing being taught’ anyway because I had a cute nail painting idea 😊)

okaynowimdonerambling

••••••

“I’ll fucking end your fucking life, Zoe, don’t you fucking test me!” Connor yelled through his door, which he had slammed just seconds before. His sister, the victim of his verbal attacks, slammed her door as well, sitting on her bed to practice her guitar for the jazz band concert next week. Connor ran his fingers through his messy, dark curls, deciding he couldn’t deal with this bullshit anymore. He flopped to the ground, looking through the bottom drawer of his bedside table, retrieving the small tin box he was looking for. He pulled it out, feeling better already.

He knew Evan wouldn’t want him to smoke, but it was midnight and Connor already wasn’t thinking too straight, and didn’t want to wake him probably sleeping boyfriend up by calling him or crawling through his window. He recalls the last time he crawled through late at night unexpectedly, and how that happened to be the one night Heidi was home from work at a decent hour, as he unlocks the box and grabs a lighter and already rolled blunt. Needless to say, he calls before he climbs through the window now. Pinching the unlit end of the blunt, he brought it to his pale lips, feeling his anger and stress float away with the smoke he exhaled. He sighed happily, already feeling much better and forgetting about what it was that Zoe had done to piss him off this time.

He’d already finished one entire blunt and was as high as a kite. Not being able to control his thoughts, and not knowing it was nearing one in the morning, he pulled out his phone, tapping a few times until he had face timed Evan. It rung once, twice, and a third time before a groggy looking Evan picked up, the duvet was covering his torso but his bare shoulders could still be seen.

“Con? It’s like 1 A.M., mwhat’s wrong?” Evan asked, his voice croaking from having just been woken up.

“Nothings wrong, I just wanted to see my pretty boyfriend’s'all,” Connor replied, his words mixing together slightly and giggling when Evans blush could be seen even in the dark bedroom.

Evan sat up and turned his bedside light on, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the light, “Are you high right now?”

“No I’m Connor,” he giggled back. Evan sighed, setting the phone down and getting up to find a shirt and shoes, deciding on one of Connors hoodies he’d 'borrowed’ and his usual sneakers.

He picked up his phone again, “I’m coming over, you need a babysitter when you’re high, there’s no telling what trouble you’ll get into.” Evan sighed.

“Yay, boyfriends coming over!” Connor cheered, probably a little too loud. Evan winced at his volume slightly.

“Shhh, what if your parents or Zoe hears you?” Evan tried shushing Connor.

“Parents aren’t home, and Zoe’s too bitchy to hear me anyway,” Connor grumbled, giggling a bit slightly. Evan had seen Connor high on a few occasions, the first time being the weirdest for him. He’d never seen Connor so <i> giggly </i>. Sure, he was cuddly when he was high, more so than when he wasn’t, and Evan really liked that, but it was so weird to see him boyfriend giggle so much. Usually he either laughed, or didn’t, there was never any in between small giggles.

~~~~

Evan pulled the key from the potted plant and unlocked the Murphy’s front door as quietly as he could, putting the key back and locking the door when he was inside. He tip-toed up to Connors room. It was obvious it was Connors, not just by the crack in the door and small posters littering it, but by the Nirvana blaring from inside. Connor was a pretty big Nirvana fan, but high Connor was the biggest Nirvana fan. He opened the door slowly, hoping that his boyfriend would at least be wearing clothes this time, and was relieved to see he was wearing black sweatpants at least. Connor turned his head, seeing Evan enter his room and carefully close the door behind him, before sitting up on his bed and going over to him, pulling him into a big hug. Evan gasped as Connor pulled him to his chest, his arms held down by Connors bear hug.

“Heyyyyy, Evvvvvvv,” Connor giggled out. Evan held back a giggle, trying to not encourage Connor.

“Hey, Connor.”

“Hey, Evan,” Connor said, mocking Evan by putting on a grumpy expression, “Why’re you so fucking serious, babe, just chill out.” He giggled again, laying back down on his bed and resting his arms under his head.

Evan blushed, liking the fact that high Connor was extra flirty and always called him dumb pet names. He grabbed the water bottle on Connors bedside table, “Here, sober up, please?”

“Nah, fuck that, I’d rather stay fucking lit,” Connor swatted the bottle away from Evans hands, “besides, I’m like totally ninety percent sure that that water bottle is just straight vodka,” Connor giggled again. Evan sighed, giving up and deciding he better just sit and watch to make sure Connor didn’t hurt himself. He sat on Connors bed, cross legged, deciding Connor was too high to bother listening to him no matter how hard he tried to get him to sober up. He stared thoughtfully at his boyfriend, as he attempted to put his hair into a messy bun, and wondered what he felt like high. He knew that he obviously had less control of his thoughts and actions, but he was curious as to how freeing and calming it really felt. Did it really help Connor deal with his anger problems and facing his family?

~~~~

It had been an hour and Connor was still wide awake, and decided he wasn’t as high as he was. He got off the bed to roll another blunt, Evan watching him carefully as he did so.

<i> Screw it </i>, Evan decided, <i> maybe it does help him feel better, maybe it’ll help me . He fiddled with the hem of Connors hoodie, before speaking up.

“Do you think you could, uh, you could teach me that?” Evan pointed hesitantly at the blunt. Connor looked up, a little bit excited, but also worried. He was never worried about his own health and safety when he smoked, but he didn’t want to risk putting his boyfriend in harm.

“Are you sure?” He asked, seeking serious for the first time all night. Evan nodded.

“I mean if you don’t want to, uh, don’t want to show me its fine it was just a thought-” Connor shit him up with a peck on the lips, pulling away and smiling at the blushing boy.

“If you’re sure you’re okay with this, then I’ll show you,” Connor went back to grab the tin box and set it on his bed, taking out the weed and things he needed to make the blunt, showing Evan step by step how to roll it. When he was done, Evan tried it, surprised at how easy it actually was.

“Do you wanna try to smoke it?” Connor asked hesitantly, not really sure how he felt about his boyfriend smoking.

“Yeah, I mean, uh, sure, I, uh, I guess,” Evan replied, fiddling with the hem of Connors hoodie again as he thought again about how it might feel.

“Okay, do this,” Connor showed Evan how to light the blunt, Evan following his directions. Connor then took Evans hands and set them on the blunt, moving it to his lips, “Now, inhale slowly, and exhale.” Evan did so, exhaling and feeling stress and anxiety he didn’t know he held being lifted away. He sighed as he exhaled, feeling surprisingly calm. He liked it, not enough that he would do this often, but enough that he thought about enjoying getting high with his boyfriend sometimes, both of them feeling calm and happy without having to worry about anything.

Connor looked at his boyfriend as he took another hit, Evan not noticing that Connor didn’t light and wasn’t smoking his own blunt. He had sobered up slightly and was watching his boyfriend carefully. Connor didn’t want to risk him getting high and Evan hurting himself while high because Connor couldn’t protect him.

After a while the blunt was gone, the room was considerably more smoky, and Evans eyes were very red and bloodshot. Connor admired how calm his boyfriend looked and wished he could give him this feeling all the time, taking note of how he fiddled with the string of his hoodie, but not in a nervous way. He fiddled with them happily and playfully as he hummed along to the song playing, Connor chuckling because he knew for a fact Evan had no idea what song it was. Connor laid back on the bed, after he put the tin back in his drawer, and pulled Evan down to lay next to him, the smaller boy breathing quietly as he laid his head on Connors bare chest.

He was probably the calmest person while high that Connor had ever seen. Evan wasn’t as giggly or funny as Connor was when he was high, although Connor noticed he was definitely more cuddly, but he enjoyed it. Evan was more quiet and thoughtful it seemed. Conor looked down and studied Evans closed eyes as he began to drift asleep. He smiled, kissing his messy blond hair and mumbling an 'I love you’ before turning to shit the light off, hearing Evan mumble one in return.

[an-unlikely-duo]

@blveblood​ said: "I do not suppose you entirely deserve these..." Connor spoke, a batch of cupcakes resting in his hands, along with a tiny package - a kitten key-chain, he picked on his very own. It was pretty cute, he decided. Every human liked cute things, to some extent... right? "Still. You shall have them." the android offered, extending his arms towards the other and passing the gifts over to him. "I ah... happy birthday, detective."

Gavin just raised his brow when the android approached him. A sour expression settled on his face when Connor started the conversation like that. “If I don’t deserve them, why don’t you shove them up your plastic ass?” he asked disgruntled and turned back to his desktop again. He really would have liked those cupcakes but their little feud seemed to be more important than sugary goods.

[an-unlikely-duo]

@plasticdetective replied to your post: Gavin: “I’m the nightmare of all Connors! Non of...

“You wish you were a nightmare to me.”

“You don’t know me yet, sunshine. I’m gonna make your plastic life hell.” careful now Connor or he is going to see that as a challenge.

[an-unlikely-duo]

The shorter man rolled his yes. So much to CyberLifes finest. “Could you be any more of a pushover?” Gavin sounded a tsk and crossed his arms while Connor was stumbling over his own words.

He lifted both his eyebrows at that question he had seen coming a mile away. “You are just a fucking bunch of lifeless puppets, replacing humans left and right. That’s reason enough, or not?” that was one of his reasons, yes, the shallow one. But there were a few more… personal reasons that he wouldn’t disclose so easily.

"Then ask, dipshit!" ~Gavin

“Detective Reed! I wasn’t expecting- I didn’t mean to speak of you like you weren’t here. I uh… Well I wanted to ask well, it was brought to my attention….” Connor hadn’t expect this so soon. There wasn’t much time for him to put together how to word this without it possibly coming off as rude?

“Well, you seem to have a distain towards my people, and I was wondering… Is there a deeper reason why you hate or have a distain toward androids?” He finally asked. There that didn’t sound rude, right? Just a simple question.

[an-unlikely-duo]

@blveblood​ said:  "You can only be the good cop should you become a stripper, that sounds about right."

“Would you be interested in paying?”

[an-unlikely-duo]

@blveblood​ said:  "Oh, I am not boring, detective. I simply just so happen to have standards."

“Judging at who your partner is, those standards must be pretty low.” Gavin just loved dragging Hank and he would do that every given opportunity. 

[an-unlikely-duo]

@blveblood​ said:  "What in the world had ever made you consider I would harbour the desire to see you take off your clothes, ever? And for me to be willing to pay for it, no less?"

Gavin started to smirk and it was a somewhat... seductive smirk. “Oh, I don’t know, you are a detective, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be curious about what’s beneath?” he asked, leaning over to Connor.

[an-unlikely-duo]

generic-connor​:

The completely unnecessary hostility from his human coworker was not unexpected, but Connor had hoped, maybe stupidly, that they could at least maintain a level of professional civility, but that was apparently too complicated for the emotionally challenged detective at his side.

Connor stiffened, the warmth sapped from him. He looked down at Gavin with a steely expression, his tone sharp, “I’m here to do my job, Detective. So why don’t you just focus on doing yours?”

It wasn’t an especially scathing remark, but Connor wasn’t willing to stoop down to Reed’s level. The man wasn’t worth it. But he couldn’t stay silent and allow himself to be bullied by him, not anymore.

In Gavins eyes the hostility was not unnecessary. It was warranted. After all that happened, the human detective was still convinced that the plastics would try to replace them all. Now even more than before. They must think they were so superior to humans. Thinking that alone let Gavins blood boil.

“This isn’t your fucking job.” Gavin growled “Androids were meant to collect trash and clean toilets. Solving crimes is a human job!” he seethed. Honestly, he probably should thank the criminal they were hunting down for killing off all those androids. They were good for nothing anyway. Shit, he wouldn’t have wanted this case if it wasn’t the only one with a high priority right now.

Gavin was very competitive when it came to work, Connor would have had only slightly easier if he was human, but not much. The detective would have found something he could hold against him no matter what, that he was an android was only convenient.

[an-unlikely-duo]

A starter from the fog for @robobiitch

It was never day in this wretched realm, only always this eerie, foggy, never ending night. How long had it been since he came here? Weeks? Months? Even years? Or had he been missing just mere days from his own world? The detective may never know. He has been caught in this endless cycle of torture, fear and despair. Not one round of this horrible cat and mouse game went by where he wondered how the people in his world were doing. Oh he missed them so, even the ones he used to hate. What would he give to just see one of them again.

Darkness and then the fog lifted, another game had begun. A quick glance told him he was familiar with the surroundings, the MacMillan Estate, probably Shelter Woods from the first look. Gavin took a deep breath, calm did the job. Freaking out like the first few times he ended up in a trial.

With a clear head and determination he looked for the first Generator. In the distance he saw something on the move while he crept through the trees. The killer? Or one of his teammates? Through the thick fog and the night it was hard to tell. It was tall but not as tall as the Trapper or the Huntress. It didn’t move like the Hag or the Pig. Was it Ace? No he carried himself differently.

Slowly he crept closer, hidden by trees and ruins. It was a man, not a killer. But it was no one he knew from the campfire. Was it a new victim of the fog or someone who had been here longer then him? He was about to call out to the stranger, then he heard it.

The heartbeat.

Quickly Gavin looked around. Where was that fucker? He still was pretty much hidden behind a broken down wall of a building that once stood here. Where was the monster approaching? And then he saw it, coming right for the guy standing in the open. No, this one was definitely new, someone who even went through one trial was smarter than being so vulnerable. Gavin was indecisive, should he aid the poor fucker and risk being put on a hook first or should he keep hidden and observe?