"soixante dix neuf" more like "suck on deez nuts"
"soixante dix neuf" more like "suck on deez nuts"
fooled around n fell in love . png
Welp. Let me see if I could do this right. Hooo
DBH x Mamma Mia Thoughts: Angel Eyes
Gavin let out a sigh as another glass of whiskey was put in front of him, with his bartender giving him a scolding meaningful look. A long suffering sigh came from beside him and there sitting and nursing another glass of whiskey was Simon.
Simon looked over at him, "Nines?"
Gavin nodded, "Markus?"
They raised their glass at each other and gulped down their shots earning them a roll of eyes from the bartender as he threw his towel behind him.
"Well lookie here, two handsome men getting deep in their cups"
Gavin and Simon looked over to see Sylas holding his margarita glass with a pinky finger up and pretty much drunker than the two of them combined. Sylas flopped in between them raising a brow at the two of them. "I heard my brothers' names."
Gavin and Simon groaned.
Sylas put down his glass and pulled them closer to him, "I know Simon's story, but what about you Gav-Gav, hmmm?"
Gavin blinked, "I'll tell you if Simon tells me his first, what DID go wrong with you two."
Simon gestured for the bartender for the bottle and poured himself another drink. "There was...a woman that was hanging around, I asked him about it and you know you're in trouble when the word JUST come before the word FRIENDS"
Sylas nodded, patting Simon's shoulder, "That's how most of my relationships ended too," he said just as a tune filled the air from the bar's sound system.
Simon took a breath and started, "One night I was taking a walk--"
"--along the river" Sylas gestured towards the sea with his glass
"and I saw him together" Simon inched closer to Gavin leaning in
"with a young girl." Sylas leaned in as well, blocking Simon, who pushed again, making Gavin lean back "And the look that he gave her--"
"--made him shiver"
Simon put a hand on Sylas mouth, "'Cause he always used to look at me that way--"
"--And he thought," Sylas sang while being muffled as Simon threw his hands up,"maybe he should walk right up to her and say Ah-ha-ha, it's a game he likes to play."
Simon frowned at Sylas, who grinned and gestured for him to continue, "Look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hypnotized. He'll take your heart and you must pay the price. Look into his angel eyes. You'll think you're in paradise. And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise. Don't look too deep into those angel eyes. Oh, no, no, no, no"
Gavin stood up to pace as Simon and Sylas sang "Ah-ha-ha" while Sylas put an arm around Simon. The bartender nodded and made a face seemingly understanding. He pulled out another glass of whiskey and took a drink of his own.
"It's terribly important to remember," Sylas sipped his drink, as Gavin was getting more agitated "just what terrible people all men are."
Simon and the bartender frowned at him. "You're that kind of man, Sylas."
"Shut up" he hissed in response.
"I keep thinking about his angel eyes" Gavin sang as he mussed up his air and "I keep thinking...AHHHHH"
Gavin whirled to face them, making them flinch.
"Sometimes when I'm lonely I sit and think about him. And it hurts to remember all the good times." he walked over to one of the tables fixing a non existent crease on it, "When I thought I could never live without him." he straightened and look over at his two companions, "And I wonder does it have to be the same? Every time when I see him, will it bring back all the pain?" The bartender nodded in understanding as Gavin slumped on the table, "Ah-ha-ha, how can I forget that name?"
Sylas pulled Simon, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and the two glasses, before dragging Gavin with him to start marching towards the beach as the sound of the music still followed them until they arrived by the swing under the shade of the trees.
Sylas put a hand to his chest, "Look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hypnotized. He'll take your heart and you must pay the price. Look into his angel eyes. You'll think you're in paradise. And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise. Don't look too deep into those angel eyes. Oh, no, no, no, no"
He offered the bottle to them to drink from, "To broken hearts, unsure futures and those fucking handsome men with fucking captivating eyes."
And there they stayed until Tina, Chloe and North walked along the seashore to hear their boisterous and drunken drawls.
"What is going on over there?" North frowned as they watched the men slumped and bemoaning whatever it is.
"Men are such drama queens." Chloe giggled.
"I should know I'm going to be married into a family WITH the drama queen." Tina snickered and the girls left the men alone.
You know what? screw you *headcanons comfort characters as latinos*
Aiden is argentinian, Maya is mexican -smirk-
Trying to resist the urge to spend 120$+ at the liquor mart
My team is ready for Candice!!!! But I think I went overboard.
“I really believe I’m doing the right thing.” / “Do you?” / “Oh.” aka connor deviated on his own terms but the conversation in the cabin did underline that he was at the edge already, he was just stalling on having to jump (and he - ironically - far prefers Choosing, he does not like to notice himself Hovering In Between when there is nothing to be gained from it)
I will truly never run out of ideas of things to write.
How do you breathe?
with your feet planted
your breath comes from Standing. for what you believe in, for people who can not, for the fact of refusing to kneel. you breathe against something (what would you do without a wall to push against?), there is something in this world that is not right and you breathe for the sake of holding against it. if you weren't breathing you'd be dead and dead people cannot stand. at the same time, if you were not standing, you would not be drawing air.
with a lump in your throat
breathing has not always been a habit. your lungs have not always been good friends with the air. it's something you sometimes get wildly over-conscious of, like the way your tongue sits in your mouth. you are here because you are breathing but sometimes it is over a lump in your throat, often your breathing is almost as brave as the swallow you have to force down before you can take this next breath. you are not drowning in thin air, you are staying alive in thin air, and tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, you will be living in it. breathing can be brave. the lump won't be there forever.
wrestle w the want to post links to all my big google docs and just stop posting forever ever after that. i just want to post five links and then delete this blog sometimes
thanks to @hounding-around for sending me this but my only complaint is that his v-neck isn’t as slutty as it’s supposed to be 🙄
where are the gifsets of michael ajao in last night in soho :(
This was prompted by an amazing anon! I didn’t want this to get this depressing, but it kind of happened and it felt good? I don’t know, if you want something more fluffy, just send me another prompt!
Fandom: Detroit become human Ship: Hannor/Hankon (Hank-centric) Warnings: Depression, suicidal character (to the canon extent), alcoholism
The bottle was cool in his hand. A welcome weight he had gotten used to too much. While a part of him knew he really shouldn’t, an even greater part craved it. The numbness it promised. The way it silenced the voice in his head overthinking everything and, maybe even more importantly, the way it soothed the ache that had nestled deep inside him and had refused to leave him ever since. He had the feeling it hid from him. On good days, his grief hid so well he didn’t even notice. But that made it even more hateful, because Hank knew it was there. Hank knew it was there, waiting for him. Hiding away until the perfect moment to come back and hit him full force. Most of the time it was just before sleep took him. In that peculiar space between wakefulness and sleep where you had just drifted away only to be pulled back into the world by memories hurting deeply at your core. Sometimes it came back in the most mundane moments: When he was cleaning – what was rarely enough. When he was watching something on the TV and his thoughts drifted. When he was at work, and he had to face a case so awfully similar to his own.
Or when a day had gone just terrible.
It was the latter why Hank was once again sitting at his kitchen table surrounded by too many chairs and an empty house. Sumo must have known what was going on, because he had come over after Hank’s second beer and had pressed his wet snout against the hand that hadn’t had the bottle in a tight grip. Hank had petted him and scratched behind his ears, mumbled a few non-committing words of comfort to the dog and watched him lay down next to him. He was a goddamn lifesaver, an anker to this life. He didn’t even want to imagine how he would carry on without him.
He looked up to the little framed picture in front of him. His eyes traced the smile forever frozen in that small fracture of a memory. He couldn’t even really remember when he had taken the photo. It had been so many years… Some days the little boy looked almost like a stranger to him. The brain was just cruel like that, making you forget the details of how someone looked or behaved, but never letting you forget the loss. ‘Cole…’ Hank heard the little thump of Sumo’s tail wagging once on the ground to the sound of his voice. ‘The android I told you about… Today I met it.’ He sighed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what to make of it.’ He took a deep gulp from the bottle. ‘Fucking thing just showed up like that, found me at the bar and then just… That machine bought me another fucking whiskey. Wanna know who was fucked up enough to program that behaviour into that thing. I hate it.’ He pressed his eyes together and slammed the bottle on the table. ‘Fuck, I hate it so fucking much. They have to take everything from me. Your mother, you, my will to live and now my job. And I can’t even complain. Thing is perfect. Can deduce everything a human can, can scan everything and everyone and is a walking talking forensics laboratory. Can’t wait to be on the streets like all these sorry fuckers out there having less luck.’
He looked up at the ever-smiling boy in front of him. ‘I just want to take every last of these tin-cans and smash it against some wall, see all that fancy technology break and their weird blue blood flow out of them. But it’s useless. They are machines, they don’t feel it. And if it’s broken it will be repaired.’ He chuckled drily. ‘Not like a human. If a human breaks, it’s discarded and left alone. How absurd has the world become.’ He finished his beer and looking over to the empty box, he sighed. ‘Time for the good stuff.’ He went over to the cabinet and took out a half-full bottle of whiskey. ‘Drink it while I still have the money to buy it, huh?’
It had started raining as Hank had been driving home today. It had been overcast all day, but apparently now the heavy clouds had decided to break. Well, better now than… earlier that day. Who knew what would had happened when it had been raining the moment the deviant had pushed him off the building. He was sure he could have made it up without help, but he still appreciated the damn bot to come to his aid instead of chasing their suspect. He certainly hadn’t expected it. Why had the android done that?
He still contemplated that question when he grabbed his first beer of the day out of habit. Everything he knew of androids had told him that the mission came first. That cold calculation of risk and chance of success. Connor must have known he could have done it himself. But he had still decided to help him. No, no, a machine couldn’t decide, that wasn’t possible. Had they just updated the damn things to look out for human life? Somehow that didn’t feel right when the android had been hell-bent on completing his mission before. But in the end, he couldn’t quite determine what must have happened. He had no clue about programming something, he just knew it from movies and that one time in his youth he had tried it. Maybe nowadays there were some fancy algorithms that allowed choice?
He was caught in this loop for the rest of the evening, thinking of the why and how and still never getting over the subjective, human view of “He helped me”. Well, after his beer had gone stale, he wasn’t in the mood for another one and just went to bed.
It was quiet that evening. Hank was sitting in his chair again, an empty beer-bottle in the narrow space that was left between half-eaten take-out from the night before. He didn’t bother standing up to get a new one, too deep in thoughts staring at the gun. ‘The next shot would have killed you.’ It should have been sobering, but he could only feel indifference. ‘He just barged in here, you know? Saw me on the floor, shattered the window and jumped in. Would you believe that Cole? Almost as if he was… concerned… Hah, a machine can’t be concerned, what am I saying.’
But the android had cared enough to check on him, right? He could have just made the conclusion he was dead or at least not fit for work and requested someone else. Or he could have gone alone. But no, he came in and tried to get him out of his horrible hangover. And for what? The mission? He would have been faster leaving him behind. So why did he do it?
‘He also let them go, Cole. Two girls – androids, Jesus… They killed the man, confessed right then and there. He… Connor had ample time to shoot them, but he hesitated even before they reasoned with him. That… A machine cannot hesitate. An android this focussed on his mission would not hesitate. They were deviants. He let them go. Showed compassion. And not in a robot kind of way, I mean with his kind maybe but also for me. Shit, Cole. I’m a wreck. I’m drunk, I’m fucking depressed, half the time I couldn’t even bother to change when I go outside. And still this android… if he were human, I would say he cared for me. Liked me. We could be friends. And I… Hell, sometimes I forget he isn’t. And that I’m talking to a machine, humanise him. But am I? If it weren’t for that dumb mood-light, would I even notice?’
He sighed. ‘I had this conversation with him tonight, you know. Where we- Where you… Fuck. Shouldn’t have gone there. This android is something… I asked him the same questions I asked myself, but the answers didn’t bring me any further. Is he a cold machine? No. Is he human? No. I think the real question is if it matters in the end.’ He reached for Cole’s picture and put it in front of the gun, so it blocked it from his sight.
‘And I’m really afraid of the answer to that.’
‘I’m at the end of my wits, Cole.’ The small army of bottles on the table, his slurred speech and the fact that everything was somehow spinning, didn’t help that he felt terrible – even without the alcohol he would have. ‘Today I… This android, Connor. I think I found the answer today. We were… well we were investigating but he found an android. And he did this weird… connection or whatever the hell that shit is. The deviant killed itself then. And that boy, well… He looked shaken. Traumatised. Fuck, Cole, if I know one look on someone’s face, then this one. How many rookies have I brought to their first murder scene? How many have I helped throwing up behind some corner? That were real feelings, Cole, doesn’t matter if they are programmed for whatever cruel reason. Those were real emotions.’
He was about to open another bottle, but stopped at the resistance of the cap. Then he let go, deciding otherwise. ‘We were to Kamski’s later that day. The Kamski. He’s a prick like all rich people are. But he offered Connor answers if he killed an android. A machine would have done it on the spot. But Connor didn’t. He refused to do it. Declined vital information for his only purpose. He showed compassion there.’
Hank let himself fall back in his chair and the nausea that caused was almost too much. ‘I am a police officer. If I see evidence, then I build up hypotheses and the more I find the closer to the truth I get. I think I ignored the evidence here long enough to keep the hypothesis that I feel comfortable with. I just can’t do that any longer. This android is alive, and a person and I like him. I enjoy working with him. He seems lost in a way I can understand, but on the other hand not even begin to. It confuses me and at the same time I think for the first time I see the whole puzzle. Fuck, maybe I am too drunk for this, but Connor is more than just an android and I want to help him where I can. I have the feeling we are on the wrong side of this fight.’
Hank stood up and walked over to his bedroom, using the wall for stability. He let himself fall into bed and managed to pull the cover over himself. ‘Cole, if you hear me, I am sorry. I don’t want to betray you; I know it was an android and AI that killed you. But I just feel like I have to do this. I just know this is right.’
It was the first evening Hank hadn’t spent drunk. He had fetched himself a bottle, opened it too, but that was as far as it had gotten. He was sitting in front of the TV, watching the news. It was reported on repeat what had happened that night, how the androids had marched to the camps and seemed to now prepare. For what Hank didn’t know. ‘He is out there, Cole’, he mumbled. ‘Connor is out there. And I can’t help him. I’m feeling powerless. I know he is out there and in danger and I can’t do anything but sit here and do nothing. Watch. I hope he makes it. What we do is wrong. These androids are alive and persons and anyone who still says otherwise just doesn’t want to accept they were wrong. I’m… I just want him back. I want that everything is okay in the end and that he survives this. I don’t think I could stomach losing another person I…’ He fell silent and let the agitated reporter fill the heavy quiet of the room. ‘Do I love him? Not like I loved your mother and not how I loved you, it’s different. But a no less strong feeling. I want to see him save; I want to see what he will do in the future. I want to work with him again. I would… I would like to just live with him. Yes… Yes, I think I love him. Hell…’
He did grab the bottle just to quiet all the voices that screamed at him for how wrong this was. How he could feel that way when this technology was exactly what had ruined his life and took others. But it wasn’t technology, was it? It was humans, always had been. A surgeon high on Red-Ice. The person programming that automated truck. ‘Can’t we do something good for a change?’, Hank sighed. ‘Let them live? Just wait and see what happens?’ He stayed quiet, while the assault on the makeshift barricade began. ‘I hope he comes back to me, Cole’, Hank murmured over the bottleneck.
‘Come back to me, Connor’, he pleaded over the far away gunfire. ‘Please, come back. I don’t think I could live without you anymore.’
He had to switch the TV off. He couldn’t watch as the androids were slaughtered without second thoughts. He couldn’t stop seeing Connor in their place. He couldn’t stop feeling how the chance for success, for peace dwindled with every passing second. He could only sit in this empty, too big house he didn’t clean and wait. For whatever might happen.
‘The next shot would have killed you.’ Hank hadn’t turned the barrel since then. He didn’t plan to, if today took all what was left of his hope.
The silence was like a blanket, thick and dampening. It felt like suffocating. There was nothing to be done but wait.
Then there was a knock. A bark. A smile.
Okay, apologies for this being late! I spent all of yesterday thinking it was still Sunday for some reason? But lol, here I am a day late with yet another prompt, this time for yet another rarepair. Hope y'all enjoy! Feel free to leave me a comment, I'd love to discuss this with y'all! :D
Prompt: Sixty is repaired after the events of the game and given a new lease on life. He finds himself a family, he finds himself a home, he finds himself an identity. And for a while, he is happy.
But he still has Connor's memories, however much he might wish he didn't. He thinks about the JB300 and how it felt to shoot him down in the hallway of the Stratford Tower. He thinks about the rogue HK400 and how he'd smashed his own processor against the glass wall of the holding cell. He thinks about the PL600, betrayed and brutalized, who's last words proclaimed him a liar.
Sixty cannot help those who are gone. But the PL600...
"Hi Daniel! My name is Connor!"
But Daniel, still stored as evidence in the DPD archive... Maybe there's something he can do for him.
Perhaps he feels a certain kinship with this android he's never actually met. A loved one had also betrayed him (like Amanda, abandoning him to the cold); he too had taken a family member hostage (How can Hank even stand to look at him?); he'd been shot in the head and left to die ([WARNING!! MOTOR CORTEX INOPERABLE!! PLEASE CONTACT A CERTIFIED CYBERLIFE TECHNICIAN IMMEDIATELY!!]) He'd done it all backwards but the comparison remains definitive.
Sixty had been given a second chance. And he would see Daniel have one, too.
(Or, the Sixty/Daniel fic that literally no one asked for. Now featuring our resident knife boi being soft and nurturing with this damaged droid, bonding over trauma, and realizing that having someone around who understands you can make all the difference.)
i am Going to quiet my job if this man doesnt shut.
DINAH ABOUT TO KILL OLLIE JUST SO CARTER DOESNT LEAVE THE LEAGUE
"Dann mach's doch selber! Mach's allein, wenn du alles besser weißt!" "Vielleicht mach ich das!" "Mach doch!" "Ja, dann mach ich das!" "Ja, mach doch!"
- Franz Leitmayr und Ivo Batic, 2018 (Freies Land)
Kontext: Ivo und Franz sind erwachsene Leute, die ihre Meinungsverschiedenheiten auf professionelle Weise lösen.