“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”
“I won’t die silly! They have done this hundreds of times, I’ll be in good hands. And hey, it’s not a bachelor party if the groom doesn’t do something crazy!” Connor said and continued: “You shouldn’t even be here, the groom isn’t supposed to be at the groom’s bachelor party. I mean, the other groom’s… Whatever, you know what I mean!” Connor said, rolling his eyes as the professional skydiver guy checked for the third time that his harness was on properly and that it was tight enough. Oliver crossed his arms over his chest.
Tag: to read
Cute Coliver + 41 😊
“You did all of this for me?” From this.
He still has half an hour until Oliver gets home. He has practically drowned the apartment in flowers, the kitchen is dim with just the light from the tall candles on the table. He isn’t good with cooking so he got food from Oliver’s favorite restaurant down the street. The food is now in the oven, just keeping it warm on low heat until Oliver gets home. Connor searched for romantic music for days and put together an hours long playlist with just instrumental songs. The music is already playing quietly on the background as Connor checks himself on the mirror for the millionth time in the last hour. He fixes his hair a little, not that there is anything wrong with it, just to give himself something to do while he waits. He fixes the bowtie around his neck. He got it from Oliver couple of weeks ago, not as a present but just because Oliver had seen it in a store and thought it would look great on Connor. And it did. It was a deep burgundy color with a light sheen in the fabric and it went great with his black shirt.
Prompt fill: Okay saw this and gotta request it! “You saw me reading the same book you did and we got into a heated discussion on how much it sucks” AUHot Glasses Guy is reading a new book.
Connor spots the customer who he may or may not have a massive crush on (he does) as he slips behind the counter. He half listens as Asher gives the highlights from the morning shift and ties his apron around his waist, trying to be inconspicuous as he attempts to read the title of Hot Glasses Guy’s book. The red cover and gold script of the title looks familiar; it almost looks like a book he had to read last semester for Intro to Political Fiction.
“Dude. Are you even listening?” Asher asks, snapping Connor’s attention back.
“Yeah. I’m here. We’re out of light roast.”
“Dark roast, man. Dark roast. What’s got you all—?” Asher looks over his shoulder. “Oh. I see. Hot Glasses Guy.”
“Wha—how do—who told you—” Connor pulls Asher by the elbow down to the far end of the counter, as far away from said customer as possible, and whispers. “Who told you about Hot Glasses Guy?”
“Dude. We all know you’re dying to bone the guy,” Asher teases. “But Michaela clued me in on the nickname.”
Connor rubs an exasperated hand over his brow. “Oh my god.”
Asher just smiles and reaches into the pastry display to restock and pull out the empty trays. “Want to know his name?”
“You know his name?” Asher nods with a knowing grin; Connor has been trying to figure out Hot Glasses Guy’s actual name for weeks. “Well, what is it?”
“What you gonna give me for it?”
“What? I’m not going give you anything for it.”
“Well that’s too bad,” Asher says and goes to carry the empty trays to the back. “I’m going to grab more stock from the back. You good out here for a minute?”
Connor watches Asher turn away and gives in. “I’ll take your Friday night shift.”
“Friday night and Sunday morning,” Asher counters.
Connor considers. “Deal.”
Asher smiles and leans in to avoid being overheard. “It’s Oliver.”
The Big Threat To Connor And Oliver On “How To Get Away With Murder” (SPOILERS!)
When sex-positive law student Connor Walsh met gay computer technician Oliver Hampton on How to Get Away with Murder, he seduced him to help win a case.
But as the season progressed, they evolved from a convenient booty call into a legit couple—albeit totally messed-up one.
In this week’s finale, though, their budding romance hit a big snag.
In a storyline that wasn’t even the major plot of the episode, Connor and Oliver took an HIV test together as part of their decision to move forward in their relationship.
In a surprise twist, it wasn’t promiscuous Connor who tested positive, but Oliver.
Sero-discordant relationships aren’t that unusual in the real world, but how will the news affect the couple?
HTGAWM creator Pete Nowalk told EW:
How it affects the relationship is going to be twisty and turny and hard. Whether they stay together or not, they’re really bonded, and Connor feels very grateful for how much Oliver’s helped him—even though Oliver doesn’t know it—through the post-murder stuff.
Connor has a good heart and wants Oliver to be okay. Just watching him feel that distraught and scared at the end with the news that he’s positive, Connor needs to figure out what his role is in the relationship now.
Nowalk’s response suggests this was an intentional story arc and not some haphazard cliffhanger, but not everyone’s happy with the HIV plot thread.
Writing for Buzzfeed, Louis Peitzman took the show to task for what he called “an old-fashioned storyline.”
While that HIV storyline might have been an attempt to add depth to the character of Connor, and to further the arc of his relationship with Oliver, the way it played out was too pedantic and condescending to be mistaken for actual character development.
When Connor went in for his HIV test, he was lectured on his safe sex practices. It was disappointing to see that a character presented as sexually uninhibited had no idea he could contract HIV from topping, and that he seemed unclear as to why he and Oliver both had to get tested before they could resume sexual contact.
Peitzman agrees that bringing HIV into prime time television is a good thing, but insists the plot treads on too many tired tropes—especially for a show that’s been groundbreaking in depictions of gay sexuality.
(Logo TV – February 28, 2015)
prompt: fluffy moment in a dystopian au – er, I might have angsted this up… how about angst with a fluffy ending dystopian au??? …
Connor hasn’t survived by being brave. He’s survived by being smart. He’s a bounty hunter but he picks his battles. He avoids most. He only pulls his gun if it’s in a fight he’s sure he’s going to win.
In a small outpost of the edge of a long abandoned town, a medic named Oliver takes Connor into the back room, cleans out his wounds and bandages them.
There’s no room for love in a world burning out. And moments of happiness never linger. But when Oliver places kisses atop each of Connor’s bandages and holds him even after he falls asleep, Connor’s sure he’s in love anyway.
They’ve danced around their feelings for years. Connor kisses Oliver’s eyelids, his cheeks, his lips, but he never says the words. Oliver touches him like he knows anyway, feather-light, and when morning comes and it’s time for Connor to move on, to hunt new bounties, Oliver stands in the doorway watching him go. Connor looks back until he can’t anymore.
Connor knows it can’t go on like this forever. But he always thought that whatever bad thing would happen would happen to him. A bounty might get the drop. Or he’d trip and break a leg. Or get eaten by a mutated bear.
He never expected that one day he’d return to the small outpost where Oliver lives and find it a crater.
prompt: a little movie watching
Connor and Oliver have a movie night every Wednesday. Center of the week, it’s the perfect time to slow down and just be together. Well, at least, that’s always the way it starts.
They sit a full cushion apart, with a bowl of popcorn between them.
Ten minutes later, the bowl’s on Oliver’s lap and Connor is melded to Oliver’s side, head on Oliver’s shoulder.
Ten seconds after that, Connor’s mouth is on Oliver’s neck.
“But the movie,” Oliver argues, weakly. He’s not opposed to what Connor clearly has in mind, but they did plan to try and make it through a whole movie this week.
Connor sighs but stops. “Fine.”
Ten minutes later, Oliver’s hand is on Connor’s thigh.
“Oliver?”
“Hm?” Oliver looks over at him with his best, most practiced innocent face.
Brow lifted, Connor looks pointedly at Oliver’s hand, then back to Oliver.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Oliver says. With a soft smile, he starts to move his hand further up Connor’s thigh. Connor shivers beneath him.
Eyes fluttering closed, Connor says, “I’m two seconds away from saying to hell with this movie.”
Two seconds later, the popcorn is on the floor and Oliver and Connor are tripping over themselves trying to kiss, take their clothes off, and race to the bedroom at once.
Behind them, the movie plays to an empty couch.
An hour after that, with them sated and happy and curled together in bed, Connor says, “Next week, we’ll make it through the whole movie.”
Oliver laughs. “Who are you kidding?”
scones-and-texting-and-murder:
This is all iamkevinfreakingsolo’s fault. She has a knack for Coliver headcanons.
On the first day of October, the four year olds in Mrs. Keating’s class came tearing noisily into their classroom as they did every morning. But an unusual silence came over them at the sight of their teacher crouched down talking to a boy none of them had seen before. Their shouts changing to whispers, they stared at the new child as they hung up their coats and put their lunchboxes in their cubbies. They watched as the little boy hugged his mother goodbye and then stood awkward and alone while Mrs. Keating greeted the class and instructed them to take their places on the rug for circle time.
Once they were settled (“Mrs. Keating, Asher stepped on my foot and these are brand new shoes,” Michaela wailed, holding up the affected sparkly, silver-shod foot), their teacher motioned the new little boy to come closer. He had dark hair and wore glasses and was twisting his hands in the light blue blanket he held to his chest.
“As I’m sure you’ve all noticed, we are lucky to have a new friend joining our class. This is Oliver and he just moved here. “ Mrs. Keating looked slowly around, making sure all eyes were on her. “I trust that we will all work to make him feel welcome.”
Mrs. Keating nodded at Oliver who gathered his blanket a little closer as he sat down on the edge of the rug next to Wes.
At free choice time, Michaela volunteered to show Oliver their classroom. She toured him through the block area, the art area, housekeeping and dress up. She showed him the bathroom and the hand-washing sink and demonstrated how the little water fountain worked. Oliver followed her around obediently, saved from having to say much while she kept up a running commentary about the room and its occupants.
“That’s Laurel. I tried to get her to play princesses with me, but she’d rather play blocks with Wes.” Laurel glared at Michaela, but Wes smiled at Oliver as he stacked up five wooden blocks.
“Go!” Wes said to Laurel who karate-kicked them over. Wes clapped his hands and he and Laurel picked them up to stack them again.
A boy in a football jersey ran up to them. “I’m Asher. Who’s your favorite team?”
Before Oliver could answer, Michaela put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Asher! I’m in the middle of something here.”
Asher pointed to his bright yellow jersey. “I like the Steelers. Everybody thinks I should like the Eagles, since we live in Philadelphia, but the Steelers are way better.”
Michaela took Oliver by the arm and led him over to the book area. “This is the book area,” she said with a dramatic flourish. Then she put on a bored tone. “And that’s Connor.” She leaned in to stage-whisper to Oliver. “He wears that black hoodie every day.”
Oliver looked at Connor who had his hood up and his sleeves pulled down over his hands as he looked through a book about reptiles. He took a step closer, then knelt down next to Connor and pointed at a picture in the book.
“That’s a chameleon. My cousin has one for a pet. It eats crickets.” Oliver said.
Connor blinked his big brown eyes at him and scooted over a little so Oliver could sit down on the rug too. Silently they looked at the book, page by page.
latch || coliver drabble
prompt: My pillow is nothing compared to your chest (x)Normally the sound of a creaking bed is like music to Connor’s ears. But with each toss and turn from the man next to him, he feels his patience wearing thin. It’s impossible to know the exact time but he knows it’s late—or early, depending on how one were to look at it. After an all too glorious evening of getting tangled in the sheets with Oliver, Connor was looking forward to getting some well-deserved rest.
Now the thought seems laughable as Oliver flips over once more. Connor can give him credit for trying to be discreet about it for his sake but it’s far too late. He’s been awake for a good ten minutes or so now, hearing each mutter and sigh to leave Oliver’s lips in his pursuit to find a good resting spot.
“If you move one more time, I’m making you sleep on the couch,” Connor grumbles into his pillow.
“Hey, this is my apartment,” Oliver protests.
“Doesn’t matter to me. The bed should be reserved for people who actually want to sleep.”
“But I can’t sleep.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Connor replies, shaking his head and burrowing it further into the pillow.
hey can you write a thing where connor and oliver are both safe and they decide to celebrate
Hells fucking yeah
“I’m negative!"
Connor let out a long sigh of relief, hearing that Oliver was safe and wasn’t sick because of his stupid dick was enough to make him relax of the first time in a really long while. “That’s great news. I’ll call you when I hear. Alright? Hang on.” His phone was beeping, another call was coming in. “They’re on the other line. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”
Connor listened intently to the old nurse lady as she explained the process to him, blah blah doctor stuff blah, and then finally…
prompt: jealous!connor and jealous!oliver deciding to aggressively spend the weekend together in bed watching netflix because
they’re both upset the other is being hit on when they’re outside?
Bonus point if they’re being extra cute because they think the other
deserves everything.The guy’s name is Chuck, one of Oliver’s co-workers. Connor and Oliver were just having a nice dinner out when he came out of nowhere and pulled a chair up to their table.
“Oliver!” he said way too pleasantly, in Connor’s honest opinion. And as he shook Oliver’s hand, his fingers lingered for way too long at Oliver’s wrist.
Connor scowled at the back of the guy’s head and didn’t bother hiding it as Chuck turned in his stolen chair to look at Connor.
“And who is your friend, Oliver?” Chuck asked.
Oliver’s right eye twitched.
"This is Connor,” Oliver said with so much ice in his voice, Connor swallowed. “My boyfriend.”
That had been last night. Tonight, in apartment 303’s kitchen, Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets and frowns at an equally-frowny Oliver, who crosses his arms in reply.
"He was hitting on you,” Connor says.
“No. He was hitting on you,” Oliver replies.
lanablack 