tone connors


So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.

To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.

First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.

And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD.
Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.

First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.


Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse victim. There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister, written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his sister and actually cared about her.

Connor’s mom, Cynthia

Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went, “welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal theory.

Connor’s dad, Larry

Connor’s dad might be one of the main sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad believed him to be a disappointment. He didn’t grieve for his dead son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this, though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I think that sums it up.

Connor Murphy

Connor was a complicated person. He had many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him, the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.

This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.

Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.

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Mike & Louis Comparison

the mike faist and louis tomlinson voice comparison that no one asked for (x)

anonymous asked:

Zoe or Connor drabble from where the reader teases around with them and soon they play fight and get really close and it gets rlly awkward and then they have a cute kiss and it's just fluffy??

(These ‘drabbles’ are getting longer and longer I swear)
Title: Boundaries
Warnings: None


Connor Murphy had never really had ‘friends’. Most people avoided him because of his hostile nature, generally preferring to hang out with his less aggressive sister, Zoe. This, coupled with his knack for pushing people away both figuratively and literally cemented his unpopular nature within his highschool.

And then there was you. You weren’t new to the highschool, hell you’d known most everyone here by name since kindergarten. You weren’t new but you were in no way familiar to anyone.

Similarly to Connor, you had a lack of friends, but for a completely different reason. You weren’t hostile, you didn’t hate people and you weren’t that anxious about social interaction, in fact, you’d love to have more friends. The problem was that you couldn’t actually do the whole… interaction part. Body language was exactly that, a whole other language to you and your understanding of facial expressions and general social cues was the poorest it could be. And with all these issues stacked up, it was no wonder everyone including you were shocked when you and Connor began hanging out.

He was straightforward and didn’t use sarcasm or confusing jokes, nor did he talk lots and overwhelm you. In fact when the two of you hung out neither of you really talked at all. You’d sit beside each other and read or watch people walk by, chatting every now and then about everything and nothing. And that was what Connor liked about you.

You didn’t expect anything from him, nor did you want anything either. He didn’t have to worry about risks or failing because you didn’t care. You let him sit by your side and talk about what he wanted, do what he wanted and received no judgement for it. You were like an escape, and he appreciated it.

Today was a day together like any other. Connor had come over to your house after a fight with his parents and the two of you were lying around the back of your house on the grass, staring at the sky while he cooled off. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes were shut and for once he looked relaxed, breathing easy. A soft smile grew on your face.

“Your hair would look nice in a bun.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, you’d tensed up. Was that ok? Connors’ face was scrunching up, you felt like that probably wasn’t ok. You felt your heart begin to slam in your chest.

“Whatever.” He muttered, rolling his eyes. His words were aggressive, but there was a smile on his face. Was what you said ok? You shifted, catching his eye again.
“I… I really do mean it. Put it all up and you’d look nice.” You words were hesitant, with the slightest teasing tone to them. Connor turned his head and locked eye with you, jabbing you lightly in the side.

“I wouldn’t.” He said turning back, missing the smile on your face as you edged closer, rolling on your side and moving a hand towards his face. His eyes narrowed but he let you proceed, touching your hand to the top of his hair.
“You’d look cuuute.” You laughed, smiling as he batted your hand away with a laugh, you felt your heart rise at the rare sound.

“Shove off!” He tried to sound serious, but your smile seemed to be infectious, his hands grabbed yours as you tried to move in again. The two of you erupted into laughter and giggles as you fought his grip, pushing against his hands as you pushed back. He rolled over onto his back, his strength taking you by surprise as he rolled with you, pulling you on top of him. As the two of you locked eyes, his laughter stopped, as did your heart. His eyes were fixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face.

You’d done something wrong, his eyes were trailing all over your face, and yu could feel his fingers intertwining with yours. Silence fell between you two, hanging thick for more than seconds, before finally, he opened his mouth.

“So, are you going to kiss me or…?” He raised and eyebrow and an arm, wrapping it around your neck and pulling your lips down against his as you froze up. You screamed at yourself in your mind to kiss back, Connor was really cute and the fact that this was happening, that you could feel his chapped lips and taste the scent of smoke that seemingly followed him was overwhelming, and then all too soon, it was over. He pulled back, breathing lightly as you both stared at each other with flushed cheeks.

“I didn’t… step over any boundaries, did I?” You breathed out, blushing even harder when Connor snorted.
“I should be the one asking that.” He said with a small smile, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you closer.

Connor Brown - Brother’s Blessing

Originally posted by jvreemer

Request : “  If your requests are open can u do one where Y/N is Tyler Bozak little sister and she is secretly dating Connor Brown and the whole team knows and but Tyler but he finds out? “

Yes, of course my requests are open, they always are unless I specifically say they aren’t which will probably only be if I need to catch up on some stuff.

I also don’t know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None!

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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.  

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AU: Connor really does have a drug problem, and he might need help, if he can ever admit it.

thank you thecoateskids for the prompt and I’m sorry it took me forever to fill it. This was originally supposed to be a short little thing and now it’s turned into a 3000+ word monstrosity. 

It was just supposed to be a one time thing.

He wasn’t absorbing the material, and his exam was in eight hours, for Christ’s sake. Connor snapped another pencil in his grip, sending it a disgusted look as it joined four others in the wastebasket next to the desk.

“Jesus, Connor.” his coworker snapped at the desk behind him. “Chill out.”

Connor ran a hand through his already messed up hair, fighting the urge to shove the next pencil up his coworker’s- “Asher! If you’re not going to help me, shut the hell up.” Connor huffed, pulling the sleeves of his shirt down over his palms. His head dropped and he folded his hands over the back of his neck. The other three interns had gone home hours ago, and why Asher of all people decided to help Connor pull an all-nighter was beyond him.

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The chime from the desktop speakers pulls Connor out of the complicated brief. He’s read the thing so many times he’s going crosseyed.

Glancing at the screen, Connor swears under his breath and digs under piles of papers for the mouse. It’s Oliver calling and a quick peek at the desktop time as he accepts the call confirms Connor’s fear - he’s late. Horribly late. Unforgivably late. 

Connor had promised this morning he was going to be home by dinner but things at the office just came up and he couldn’t break away. Things always seem to be coming up lately. He supposes that’s what happens when you’re up for partner.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I got caught up.” He’s tripping over himself to apologize when Oliver’s face pops up on the screen. Connor only sees it out of the corner of his eye, too focused on searching the floor near his feet for his briefcase to shove some of this work into. There’s still so much to do before tomorrow’s meeting. 

Back at the house, he can just bunk out in the office while Oliver sleeps - all warm and cozy - in their bed down the hall. It’s certainly not perfect but at least he’ll get to fall in bed next to Oliver once his second round of caffeine wears off. That is, if he doesn’t fall asleep at his desk. Again.

“I know I promised I’d be home sooner it’s just -”

“Connor, stop talking,” Oliver cuts him off but the tone is gentler than Connor expected. He’s gotten a few of these late night calls before; Oliver doesn’t normally sound so giddy. “Just stop. We want to show you something.”

That stops Connor in his search for the missing briefcase and he looks at the screen. There, in 27-inch 5k Retina display, are his husband and their son, Jack.

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be the one || coliver fic
  • for my lovebug, conwalshs, happy valentine’s day, cutie pie!
  • i really hope you like this sappy mess xoxo

Connor lights the final candle, annoyed with himself for the sudden case of nerves running rampant through him. Never in his life did he think he’d actually be doing something like this. The idea always seemed laughable, that one day of the year could reduce a person to sentimental mush but here he is, going above and beyond for a holiday he never thought he’d feel inclined to celebrate.

He looks over at his work, proud of the ambiance he was able to achieve. If it weren’t for the candles he’d be standing in sheer darkness but intimacy is the effect he’s going for this evening.

The sound of keys at the door takes his attention away. He waits with bated breath as Oliver lets himself into his apartment and closes the door behind him.

“Oh, great,” Oliver mutters, flipping the switch on and off before giving up and sighing. It takes a beat for him to notice the glow, Connor discerns.

He remains perfectly still, feeling a bit foolish to be standing there, practically in the dark but for Oliver, Connor has been learning there’s just about nothing he wouldn’t do. He draws in a breath, hearing the motion of Oliver stepping further inside and rounding the corner.

Oliver freezes at the site of Connor decked out in a fine suit and bouquet of roses in his hands, rooted before a perfectly set dinner table.

Connor smiles at him, taking in the shocked expression of the other man and the warm grin that etches into his features. He can’t see his eyes, however– the reflection of the candles doing a good job of obscuring his view but Connor feels safe in thinking that Oliver just might be tearing up.

“Connor…what is all of this?” Oliver asks in disbelief, tentatively coming closer.

“According to my calendar, it’s February fourteenth so I’m thinking it’s Valentine’s Day.”

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Turkey and Crocodiles

A/N: Haha, AU where Connor and Oliver aren’t smack dab in the middle of another Really Bad Idea and instead get to actually enjoy Thanksgiving. (Um, this is my first and maybe only Coliver fic? Be gentle with me.

Surprisingly Oliver is the one who has to work on Thanksgiving.

“How does that even happen?” Connor asks, pushing eggs around in a pan and trying his best not to let Oliver see his pout. Oliver sidles up behind him, wraps suit clad arms around Connor’s waist, and kisses at the spot just behind his ear that makes Connor shiver every time. “Aren’t fancy offices like yours closed for the holidays? Even Annalise is taking the day off.”

“It’s not fancy,” Oliver counters, “and I’m just on call. I may not even have to go in.”

Connor doesn’t respond, instead he picks up the skillet of scrambled eggs and empties them onto a plate.

“Don’t be mad.” Oliver’s hands are still on Connor’s waist, and he gives a gentle squeeze of his fingers before letting them drop.

Connor turns to face Oliver, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not mad.” He says, “But I will be if I end up eating turkey alone tomorrow.”

Oliver smiles at him, pulls him in and pecks him on the lips. “You won’t.” He says. “I’ll be here.”

“I hope so,” Connor quips as Oliver steps into the living room and slings his messenger bag over his shoulder. “I’m cooking naked. I’d hate for you to miss that.” When Oliver turns, Connor’s smiling too, his lips quirked up just so at one corner, and Oliver reaches for him again.

“That better be a promise.” He says.

Connor snickers. “Oh, it is.”

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Fresh wounds (Connor&Reader drabble)

Not my best but I’m in a huge writer’s block and this is just an attempt of breaking free from it. :D

Hope you’ll like it! :)
Especially connors-war-paint, who sent me the idea for this drabble. Thank you again, dear! :)

I was making my way down the stairs of the front porch, a basket of laundry in my hands and a sigh on my lips. I looked around and pulled my lower lip between my teeth, chewing on the flesh, unconsciously ruining it in the overwhelming frustration I’ve been feeling for weeks. With a final and rather loud exhalation of air, I took the first step of the stairs, looking straight ahead, never glancing in the direction the road was in.

I noticed him first by the loud noise of his mare’s gallop. I didn’t see him just then, only heard the all too familiar sound of a horse snorting and the thunder like dash of its hooves.

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