#should i switch to android

[tetranymous]

Does anyone know of a way to force a memory limit on Firefox for Android?

All of the methods I've seen are only for desktop (mobile doesn't have about:config) or people saying that you should leave the memory management to the OS (clearly not helpful) or people complaining about slowness or storage space or browser crashes (irrelevant, clogging up search results) or confusing ram with internal storage (who even decided to call internal storage memory in the first place??? As if RAM didn't already mean random access MEMORY).

I'm getting sick of Firefox suddenly using up all of the RAM and causing my entire phone to hard crash and reboot 😭 (not just a tab or browser crash).

My phone's fairly old (I've gotta upgrade soon due to the 3g shutoff and lack of VOLTE support) but that's still a while away and it's only Firefox that's causing this to happen, everything else runs fine (plus I'd still like to use this thing even when I upgrade!). Can't mess about in root until I upgrade because this era of phone punishes you if you do (and I don't want to break something in there and be out of a phone for several months! Again!)

[aro-culture-is]

Aro culture is always getting autocorrected when ( "aro" autocorrected to "air" when I was typing this out)

.

[izar-tarazed]

Replies will probably be delayed for a bit (and I'll be a little more quiet here) because turns out that, just like Ensha, my laptop keyboard really dislikes getting wet.

[fursectomy]

social media is insane i wish i could have two separate feeds a serious feed and an unserious feed. the whiplash of seeing a video of warcrimes on tumblr and then a homestuck meme. police brutality on instagram reels and then a silly dog video. makes my head spin

[chrismcshell]

flowers of the field by sky sailing isn't on apple music. yet another example of the evils of streaming services

[galactichelium]

Why did a 2:30 minute screen recording on my phone take up 824 MB of storage. THIS PHONE ONLY HAS 64 GB ?????

[sl33py-g4m3r]

I’ve griped and complained about this before; well I’m doing it again, because I’m annoyed by it.

As good as iOS is for accessibility; it has a quirk with the tumblr app specifically that annoys me to no end. I had to switch back to iOS because the magnifier and screen magnification was better and easier than on android. But that’s unrelated to the complaint, just the reason I switched from android to iOS a while ago.

Why does tumblr only allow 10 tags to be selected from a post that I want to reblog; that clearly has more than that?? The post has 20-30 tags? Let me just put in all the tags then~~!!

My memory is too bad to warrant putting in all the tags that won’t be put there cause the reblog feature for mobile only allows 10…..

So I can guarantee that, unless I’m making my own tags on my own posts, that some of them aren’t tagged properly at all

Why the 10 tag limit automatically for reblogging on mobile tumblr??

I can’t put all of the tags if there are more than 10 because I can’t remember them all…

[beazt]

u know what sucks. fucken. iOS App Store has a limit on shit where discord can’t let u into age restricted servers on iOS. :| major overstepping if u ask me

[esleep]

do i have any followers or mutuals who have switched from iphone to android? what phone did you get? how did you feel about it? what were the biggest things that bothered you and biggest things you liked?

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[carlyraejepsans]

Setting up AO3 Enhancements on a mobile browser

Hey there! Do you:

read fic primarily on your phone?

feel tired of having to punch in a lot of filter tags every time you browse for fics?

have an android device?

then I might be able to help you make fandom a cozier place! (and hopefully nip future drama in the bud, lol)

With this post, I'm gonna guide you through the process of installing the AO3 Enhancements browser extension, normally only available on desktop, on your mobile device. It works a charm, and I've been using it for months, and it's made the Undertale tag navigable again despite my utter disinterest in AU content.

Here's an archived version of the full post in case my dumbass accidentally deletes it for some reason

Let's get started!

UPDATE: For IOS users! You can download the browser app "Orion" which allows firefox extensions! No need to do this procedure, just install it and download the extension as you normally would from Firefox Add-ons

1) Download Firefox Nightly.

For those who are hearing of it for the first time, Firefox Nightly is a separate Firefox browser made specifically for developers. The name itself is due to the fact that it's patched and updated on a daily (er, nightly) basis. This makes it more prone to crashing and issues than the standard Firefox app, but I've switched over to nightly as my main browser months ago now, and if I ever encounter a problem, I just... download the latest update and I'm good to go.

What's crucial about Nightly, however, is that it gives the user access to various additional features. One of them being desktop extensions on mobile, which is what we're here for.

Here's the Google Play link.

2) Make a Firefox Account

This will be necessary to install the extension later

Once you've done that, go to the Firefox add-ons website and log into your account in the upper right (where it says "Biscia" in the screenshot below). Click on "View My Collections"

3) Making an add-on collection

Since browser extensions are technically blocked from being directly installed by the browser, Nightly offers a workaround.

Create a collection, and give it a name without spaces to avoid errors.

4) Adding the extension

Here is the link to ao3 enhancements (if it's not showing up, try reloading the page in desktop mode). Scroll down until you see the option "Add to a collection" and select the one you just created.

You can do it with any extension! Go nuts. There's lots of good stuff out there. Just remember that it's not guaranteed every one of them will work, since they aren't intended to be used on a mobile device.

5) Activating debug mode.

In your browser, tap the little sandwich menu in the bottom right, scroll down and click Settings. It should be under "Save to Collection".

Scroll down even more until you reach the "About" section, and click on "About Firefox Nightly"

Click on the firefox logo 5 times, and it should be done.

6) Activating your add-ons

Go to "View my profile" as seen in the screenshot in step 2. At the end of the link, there should be a string of numbers. Copy it.

After this, go back to the browser settings again, scroll down until you reach the add ons section and click on "custom add on collection". Paste the numbers you copied from your profile where it says "User ID", and the name of your collection EXACTLY as it appears in the link, where it says "Collection name". Mind, it's case sensitive.

Press okay, and it should kick you out of the app. Open it again and, going in add-ons then add-ons manager, you should be able to add your extension.

ATTENTION!! If you get the error message "failed to query add-ons" you either inputted the wrong user id or the wrong collection name

To avoid this type of issue, don't name your collection something that has spaces or punctuation in it, as it might mess with the link formatting.

7) Setting up your AO3 enhancements filters

If everything's worked out fine, you should be able to visit ao3 and see a new drop-down window.

Click on it, click on option, and it should open up a new window with all the settings available! Tweak them to your heart's content. Though mind, the background tag wrangling done by the ao3 volunteers doesn't work with this extension, so the extension is going to hide only the works tagged EXACTLY what you filtered. Character for character. This makes things a bit tricky when people aren't consistent with their tagging, but if it proves to be enough of a problem, you can just filter out the author name in full and be done with it.

You can choose to hide the fic behind a "show" button, or make it not show up at all. If you choose the latter option, and you blocked a tag that has lots of fics, it might look like certain pages of searches are almost empty, since all the fics were hidden.

And that's it! I sincerely hope this helps people avoid their triggers and other topics that make them uncomfortable. No more excuses fellas. You find a tag you haven't filtered yet? You add it to the list and move on. Easy peasy.

Hope I haven't missed anything. Let me know if you need any help!

[whumpsday]

Catharsis #1: Talking

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker

new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!

-

After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.

Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–

Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.

New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…

He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.

The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.

Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.

He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.

The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.

Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.

The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”

Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”

He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.

“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”

“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.

“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.

Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.

Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.

It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?

He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.

The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”

“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.

Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”

“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”

This wasn’t working.

Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.

“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.

Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.

He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”

“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.

Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”

“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.

Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.

The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.

The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.

But this wasn’t Cyrus.

“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.

Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”

“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”

At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.

“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.

Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.

He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.

“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”

The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.

Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.

The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”

“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.

“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”

“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”

“Like the number?”

“The number,” he confirmed proudly.

Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?

This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”

“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”

“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.

“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.

“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.

1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”

“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.

“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.

Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”

-

if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!

catharsis taglist:

@sowhumpshaped

@cupcakes-and-pain

@taterswhump

@softvampirewhump

@whumpspicelatte

@ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumpwillow

@not-a-space-alien

@a-crumb-of-whump

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

[where-dreamers-go]

“Bingo” DBH RK800 Connor x Human!Reader

(A/N: Oh, hey! I found an unfinished Connor insert reader and did the thing. And I have no idea when I typed this, maybe four years ago.

Warnings: language.

Word Count: 720 words)

Many things and people could irritate a person. Some times those were situations. Other times you were irritated by someone’s repetitive display of aggravation of a being’s mere presence.

A shift in the department seemed regular as ever. Paperwork and people moving about around you.

Only one of those were you tired of. Gavin Reed.

Good at his job? Sure, but he had no reason to be as rude as he was to Connor from CyberLife.

Connor, however analytical, was sweet. That not you would admit as much out loud in the precinct. Especially not to his assigned partner. You would never hear the end of it.

You weren’t normally the one to step up in a social situation you weren’t at least a little involved in, however you were one for subtleties. Plus, you just couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. Not any more.

Was that not something humans needed to do more of, helping one another?

Previously mentioned Reed spotted the android, alone.

How did you know?

The look of uncomfortable disgust on the detective’s face.

It was when you saw Reed making a beeline towards Connor, that you made your move. Rising from your seat, your feet lead you towards the break room. Smooth, silent, and thankfully fast.

Reed had already approached Connor with his back to you and his arms crossed in front of him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be or are you doing coffee runs too?” Reed sneered.

“Lieutenant Anderson said that he required a large amount of caffeine. I offered my assistance.” Connor answered with what had to be a hot cup of coffee in one hand.

“So it looks like you’ve gained rank as a coffee dis—.”

“Excuse me, Connor,” you stopped about two steps from Reed’s side. “May I ask your help with something?” You gestured back towards your desk.

“Of course, detective,” Connor sent you a minuscule smile before looking back to Reed. “Pardon me, detective. Perhaps you would like to continue discussing caffeinated beverages later?”

“Hell no. Get lost, plastic.” Reed made a noise of disgust as he walked away.

One triumphant smile on your face and you were practically prancing back to your desk with Connor in tow.

By the time you reached your work station, Connor was giving you a focused look.

“What is it that you need help with?”

“Nothing that I know of,” you leaned your hip against the desk.

“Then why did you ask me for help?” He tilted his head.

“Well….puzzle piece number one, Reed is a jerk to you. Piece number two, I don’t think anyone should be treated that way and three,” you picked up a pen, “I’ve already finished a good portion of my paperwork.”

Connor’s eyes squinted in the slightest as his LED flickered.

“Your conclusion?”

“You wanted me to avoid a confrontation with Detective Reed.”

“Bingo.” You tapped the end of the pen to your nose.

“But,” his LED switched to yellow for a moment. “Why would you do that? I can handle many human interactions.”

“Because I felt like I needed to.” You shrugged and fiddled with the pen in your grasp.

“Oh.” The tiniest frown made it way onto Connor’s perfectly sculpted face.

Smiling at him came easily because of the way he tried understanding and yet not quite getting to the core of humans’ feelings. It was adorable.

“Connor.”

Lieutenant Anderson’s voice caught both Connor’s and your attention.

“Are you going to stand there all day chatting or give me my damn coffee and get back to work?”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor took long strides to the desk and gave him the cup.

You watched their exchange with an amused smile.

“Lieutenant Anderson, did you have breakfast this morning?” You asked.

“No. Why?” He frowned over the rim of the coffee cup.

You stretched over to the other end of your desk and retrieved a breakfast bar. “I got extra.” You held up the food. “It’s the good kind.”

“I’m not picky. Thanks.”

After exchanging glances with Connor, you tossed the wrapped bar. He caught it swiftly and handed it over to the Lieutenant.

“Connor, yah better not tell me what’s in it.”

“I-I wasn’t.”

You chuckled at the two and sat behind your desk feeling more accomplished than having your paperwork completed.

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

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coffee

~~~~~

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Detroit: Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire

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[yandere-daydreams]

More on sex doll Kabukimono because he's been gnawing on my brain since I sent that ask. Would even recognize himself, I wonder? Like, his owner is a technician that fixes bots. If they got a Wanderer doll to fix up, would Kabukimono realize on some instinctual level this is what he's supposed to be like? That he's *wrong* and the other bot is *right*. Would he recognize his face?

On another note Kabukimono crying for his master because they got another bot wasn't he good enough for them and the other bot is his reflection in the mirror. Roomba IQ. I love him.

it doesn't even have to be another variation of the Wanderer, honestly. a Kaveh brought in to help with the more aesthetic parts of android repair or a Childe meant to keep up with the housework and deal with your more unruly customers would be enough to trigger the part of his brain that's supposed to stop him from wondering about the specifics of his own synthetic consciousness, from questioning if you'd love the intruder more than you love him. he's barely aware of the fact that he's an android, let alone the fact that there are likely a thousand strangers out there using his voice and wearing his face, and even a backstory as shotty as his wouldn't allow for a million coincidentally identical cousins. it's bound to fuck him up. at least a little, i mean.

you should be lucky he's as delicate as he is, that all that ever comes out of his little run-ins with self-awareness are a pair of wide eyes (he can't cry, unfortunately, tears and wiring don't mix well) and two pale hands wrapped around your arm, pleading with you not to want anyone but him, begging you not to ever switch places with one of your 'copies', whatever that's supposed to mean. he knows there should be something else, that he should have pre-programmed reactions to fill in the gaps between one feeling and another, but there's not and he's left curled against your side, sniffling quietly while you promise you're not trying to replace him. you can try to comfort him, but it's not going to do much.

he just doesn't know how not to want to be the only android in your life.

[iwonderwh0]

I had this snippet in my notes for a really long time. I hoped maybe I'll figure how to write more things around it, but ultimately today I decided to set it free and post it. It's part of my multibodied au that I post about sometimes under "single mind multiple bodies" tag

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

Hank never liked androids, although he wouldn't be able to answer for sure, whether it was really the androids he disliked or rather what they represented.

A multibillion-dollar corporation, disguised as a pretty face, a fake promise, but so appealing and convenient it was easy to grow dependant, get too used to the level of the never-ending entertainment and patience to tolerate another human, suddenly too imperfect to complete with a dopamine trap of a CyberLife substitute. That's what it was, a substitute, but most of all — it was an attempt to steal human connection. Steal and sell it back for profit. A precious resource that should have only been shared with other people but was now wasted for nothing. A toy, not even an animal like a pet.

At some point, Hank wasn’t even sure if it was really the androids that were getting progressively "more human" or people who were rapidly becoming less so. It was entirely possible, he thought, that the change was proportional, as if humans strived to assimilate themselves among the new crowd of soulless imposters.

The thought of it never failed to make Hank angry, sick. It made him sick to his stomach to think about an entire generation that was doomed to become the lonliest history has ever seen, denied a chance to fully experience probably the only thing actually worth living for.

And they won't even know it.

Hell

Hating androids instead of those who brought them was no more productive than being angry at the rock for being thrown. Still. Hank couldn't help but feel the surge of hatred every time he saw them. Irrationality, he wanted to see them destroyed, to be the one to destroy them personally, as if the damage could in any way be translated back to CyberLife.

He hated Connor. Despite agreeing to take the job by his own decision, he couldn't help it. He thought he knew enough about what he was going to be dealing with to be prepared to ignore all the attempts at fooling him. It wouldn't work, not on him. He wouldn't let it make him forget about what it was. Or rather, what it wasn't. That's what he told himself. That's what he kept repeating.

But working with Connor kept challenging him in ways he didn't expect.

Most of all, it made him suddenly aware that he had absolutely no idea what androids actually were because whatever he had imagined them to be, Connor was not.

Just as Hank imagined androids would, it tried to be nice to him, talking to him with that bubbly attitude that Hank so hated, the one he had learned to associate with a phony act. That much was true. The thing was, Connor stopped acting this way fairly quickly and switched instead to finding new ways to get on Hank's nerves. To annoy him. Provoke a reaction.

He caught him smoking once, and as Hank palmed his own coat, searching for his pack, he realized that the android must have pickpocketed him at some point. He didn't even notice when or how.

"Aren't you afraid of getting some cyber-cancer?" Hank asked him, approaching.

Connor eyed him, unimpressed.

"I've already got you," he said.

Hank snorted, surprised.

"Was that funny?"

"Yes," Hank shook his head. "That was a good one."

"Oh, sorry. I meant it as an insult." Connor said in a voice that might as well have said 'I think there was a misunderstanding'.

Hank laughed again, and for a moment, he almost found himself liking Connor.

It surprised Hank at first, before he got too used to it to care. On another thought, he pondered, it might still have been a part of the android's programming. If Connor couldn't provoke positive emotions, he would still try to provoke some.

Another thing that rubbed Hank the wrong way about Connor was his ability to fake emotions, specifically, the unconventional choice of them. They were not what Hank expected an android to imitate. But then again, he had never owned one to know if it was common or not. Connor pretended to be annoyed when Hank didn't want to follow his suggestions and frustrated when he was unable to get an expected outcome, be it a task of his own or an attempt to provoke a reaction. He would get angry at Hank for doing something wrong -- even if it was just incorrectly pronounced word -- but devastated and anxious when he did something wrong himself.

It went against Hank's conviction that androids were agreeable and indulgent, not to mention flawless. But, if he thought about it, Connor wasn't a companion android. His intended function wasn't to appeal to anyone, especially not to Hank, but instead to pass as human and accomplish specific tasks by any means necessary. Which, Hank realised, happened to include emotional manipulation.

This makes it worse.

Hank was stupid enough to fall for it. He shouldn't repeat his mistakes.

God, did he hate androids.

Surely, the damn thing couldn't feel anything.

There still was a doubt. It was lumping in Hank's throat when he saw the android checking itself in their shared bathroom mirror, spending a wasteful amount of time doing so, a weird kind of worry written on its face.

Maybe he's doing something else in the process

It pried at him at the sight of an android stopping at the mall to take a closer look at the fish inside the hall aquarium.

This could be his attempt to evoke your sympathy.

It was pulsing in his head at the memory of the android leaning into his own tight embrace of his other body in an action no androids should be doing on their own. There was no reason for him to do that. And yet he still did.

Surely, Hank could further hypothesize about being the intended audience in a well-planned performance, but unlike other sound explanations, this one made no sense at all. There was nothing to gain from it, or at least, Hank couldn't think of any potential use for it.

Could he just want to do it? Not for anyone but for himself.

Could he be alive?

The thought scared him. Not so much because of the possibility of it being correct, but because the implications of what this fact would mean in a wider sense.

If Connor is alive, are other androids too?

Could they all be?

Have they always been?

It would, however, be a lie to say that the thought wasn't unnerving in its own. Although talking to an android, it was easy to forget that Hank was talking to, essentially, answerphone, he had never once before fully considered, that he might be actually judged — not just by an algorithm trying to decide which ad to feed him next time he goes online, but by something that could actually see him, think about him, form an opinion about him, be in any way affected by his words.

There was always this sense of permissiveness in talking to an android. It was a crime with no witnesses to recognise it as such.

And then, suddenly, there was one.

[syrupfog]

AU where Sanji doesn’t understand the point of humans, really. He knows that people love them, but… they’re just so fragile. They break easily, hard to repair, and once their systems have stopped circulating, they just don’t turn back on. He doesn’t get the appeal.

He knows, has been informed, that he was born human. But it’s a ship of Theseus situation. He’s been long ago upgraded, doesn’t have those weaknesses he was born with.

Hell, his siblings were incredibly powered up, for humans, and they were still easily disposed of.

Logically, loving a human just doesn’t make sense. They’re not real the way androids are real. Their consciousness doesn’t exist as soon as they’re powered down. There’s a liminal nothingness to that. Humans are like toys. Like starter beings.

He’s had all of those thoughts hundreds of times before, as he’s watched humans die in front of him. Watched his siblings as they perished by his own hand. This has been his Truth his whole life. Humans aren’t worth thinking about because they’re just not really real.

And of course, that’s why he’s questioning his own actions now.

This human he’s seen around a few times, having washed up in a dingy little rowboat at the edge of town, telling the people something about how he’s been separated from his crew.

This human who has been working hard, exchanging manual labor for food while sleeping rough and making time to train with his ridiculous swords. Those are a weakness, at least consider guns, or fortified steel legs.

But this human, who’s been so confident he’ll be reunited with his crew, who’s been biding his time and training… Sanji had taken an interest in him.

And then Sanji had watched him die. A freak accident with machinery he’d been tasked to repair in exchange for a meal.

Everyone in town knows of Sanji. And he knows they know, knows they think he’s a little alarming. But that’s fine. They’re human.

However they perceive him, though, they don’t object when he swoops in and lifts up the green haired human, taking him away.

It’s not like he’s useful to them anyway anymore, he’s turned off and humans don’t turn back on.

But Sanji… wants this one to.

It’s ridiculous and maybe Sanji should upgrade his logic processing, but… he’s drawn to this one. Wants it back online.

His father had been a monster of a man, and the only one Sanji had taken true pleasure in shutting down. But he’d kept his father’s workshops in working order to do his own repairs as necessary, and that comes in useful now.

Sanji only knows living bodies for their food purposes. He works and studies and experiments. He takes out his nightly recharging batteries and instead gets out his old charging cord so he doesn’t have to take breaks. He knows humans are quick to recycle after being turned off, even with the best precautions taken.

He doesn’t know why, but… he wants this. He’s drawn to the man. There’s an energy about him that Sanji doesn’t remember ever seeing before, and he wants it back.

And after an intense amount of repairs and replacements and experimental flesh-and-metal welding…

He flips the switch.

The man groans.

He lifts a hand slowly to his face, squinting his eye at the light. Sanji hadn’t been able to save both of them.

He sits up, blinking as he looks around.

“Wh’ th’ fuck happened?” He mumbles.

“Greetings,” says Sanji. “I’m Sanji. Your systems failed and turned off. I turned them back on.”

The man looks down at himself. Sanji thinks he’s done a good job matching the spray paint to his skin tone.

“Swords?” The man asks.

“In the other room,” Sanji says. “I wanted to check you were fully online before returning your things to you.”

“Is that why I’m butt-ass naked?” The man asks, then shakes his head. “Whatever. Am I being held? Can I go?”

Sanji blinks. “Of course you can go,” he says. “But please let me feed you, first. Humans need sustenance.”

The man frowns. “You not human or something?” He asks. “You don’t look like a fishman or mink.”

“I’m an android,” says Sanji.

“Well that’s a fucking note,” says the man. “I’m Zoro. Thanks for… fixing me, I guess.”

Sanji smiles. “I will take you to your clothes and then food,” he says. “There has been rumor your ‘crew’ as you called them is here, although I have not validated these claims. I have been busy.”

Zoro grins, swinging his legs over the table and standing. “Perfect,” he says. “I gotta get going, then.”

Sandi frowns. “Wait,” he says. “You’re still newly upgraded. There might be bugs!”

Sanji HATES bugs.

“I’m fine,” Zoro says, then promptly stumbles.

“Like that!” Sanji screeches. He’s had years, decades to work on his own tech.

“You need to be stress tested properly!”

Zoro pinches the bridge of his nose and there’s the sound of metal groaning under his fingers. “Fine,” he says. “Then I guess you’re coming with me.”

“Pardon?” asks Sanji.

“Listen, Swirly,” Zoro says. “I have places to be and a future pirate king to serve. I don’t have time to be waiting around for hardware to fail so either you’re coming with me or I’m handing my doctor a computer repair manual.”

Sanji groans. “…Fine,” he says. “I will feed you and then I will pack up. It will take two hours.”

“You have until Luffy shows up,” Zoro says. Then amends, “You have until Luffy has eaten everything in your kitchen.”

Sanji doesn’t know this ‘Luffy’ but he takes that into his calculations. “Acceptable,” he says. “Let’s be off, then.”

And thus, the Straw Hats gain their cook, as Sanji makes it his life mission to keep his collection of humans as safe as possible. They’re so fragile, they break so easily.

Although these ones do seem hardier than most.