#connor's the only one close and like u said he had reasoning behind it (even if panicked illogical reasoning) not just compulsion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slothgiirl · 4 years ago

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maybe together we can get somewhere (noah x mc)

the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention (12k)

this was fun and experimental to write, trying to build a relationship through the limitations of the gang only getting snippets of noah and mc and hopefully giving enough information to piece together a plot without being to expository. hope u enjoy (noah x mc are soulmates change my mind)

Stacy.

It's a family vacation. Only the second one after her college graduation since she's only living an hour from Westchester.

It's her mom and dad and Connor and his girlfriend and her girlfriend.

Sofi laughs easily, fitting right in at some story Connor is telling and Stacy’s still annoyed that her brother brought up what she and her friends had found in the woods as children when they were at the airport: when anyone could have heard. She doesn't want to deal with it ever again. And she'll get up and move across the country if she has to.

Connor catches her gaze and offers a small smile and just like that; Stacy let's it go.

“Oh a farmers market,” her mom cries out, “we should check it out!”

Her dad laughs, “alright but don't expect me to eat any frankenstein fruit.”

Stacy snorts, finding Vancouver both amazing, and like any other city she's been to. Canada is hardly an exotic travel destination, but it's nice, waking up to a view of the pacific ocean. She wonders if she should visit her old friend since she's in town.

She'd last talked to you on the phone a month ago, surely she could just drop in.

Sofi slides her hand into Stacy’s, before asking, “what are you thinking about?” It's the first time Sofia's really spent time with her family. And her girlfriend knows about her tendency to overthink and now is one of those times.

Stacy's sighs, “just-I have a friend who lives in Vancouver. I was wondering whether I should visit them or not.”

Her girlfriend smiles, leading them into a stall with lots of fruit samples, “You should! If they're your friend I bet they'd be really happy to see you.”

Stacy shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like I'm going to be in Vancouver again anytime soon.”

She grabs a second sample of the blood oranges, before telling Stacy as she decides to get a few for the road, “so who is this friend?” Because Sofi doesn't know about the whole Redfield thing and she'll never know because Stacy doesn't want to burden her with Redfield and also doesn't want to talk about it herself. It's over: in the past. Finished.

“One of my childhood friends like Lucas. There was this whole group of us,” Stacy explains.

“Like Dan,” Sofi nods, understanding. “Do you guys still talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should totally drop by! Personally, I could skip the biking tour.”

Stacy laughs, “my parents really just got us all the types of tour.” It was nice, how much things had changed and the boat tour had been fun even if she’d gotten pretty cold over those two hours, it had just been the perfect excuse to snuggle up with Sofi and a cup of warm coffee inside. Connor and Vy could be outdoorsy together, taking millions of photos of the water and skyline.

“It’s cute,” Sofi comments, “my dad would just grumble about the expense and lead his own tour, no doubt getting us all lost.”

Stacy shrugs, “that’s why we have google maps.”

Sofi laughs, and pays for her oranges.

Stacy’s tired of the crowded stall, so she steps outside to wait. Canadians may be polite, but there’s only so many people brushing past her she can take. She takes out her phone and asks Lily for your address because of course Lily has it; she had sent everyone care packages and birthday presents without fail. Stacy had just sent an electronic gift card and called it a day.

There’s a good crowd but this isn't a sad little farmers market like the one back home that has like nothing but a stall or two.

She finds that she does miss the small town feel of the city she lives in even if she has to drive everywhere and living close to her family is nice even if she’ll forever hate the woods, any woods. Andy and tom had confirmed nothing was out in Westchester but she won’t chance it.

It’s second nature to go through her emails while she’s on her phone.

She scans the crowd, seeing if she spots her family somewhere. And sure enough Connor and Vy are sniffing at some tea samples, looking disgustingly sweet together and Stacy makes sure to take a picture because she went with Connor and Tom to pick out the ring. He just has to pop the question.

Wait! Was she or Sofi going to ask the question? Oh god, Stacy wanted to marry this girl. It hits her like a ton of bricks and they’re only 23, been dating two years so they have time, but Stacy’s sure. This is the one.

The panic subsides as she realizes, yeah, this is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with and that’s no big deal. They’ll take it day by day.

She locks her phone, glances around, ready to go get Sofi who probably struck up a whole conversation with the vendors and is getting invited over to their house for dinner as Stacy stands out here, waiting, and sees. . .well not Noah Marshall because he’s dead. So that’s not possible. And it’s not like she’s in Westchester.

But-but it certainly looks like Noah at a glance.

She can’t actually make out the man’s features, just the back of his head, which wow-Stace, she might just be losing it if she’s starting to see Noah Marshall walking around, but there’s something about the way the man walks and the shade of hair even if the haircut has changed. . .she shakes her head.

She’s imagining things.

“Ready to go,” Sofi asks, putting her hand on Stacy’s arm, “Your mom texted, she said to meet in front of Whole Foods wherever that is. Also, hilarious that there’s a farmers market in front of Whole foods.”

Stacy snorts, nodding, “yeah, let’s go.” And then looks back because it’s been five years and she still wants to kick Noah’s ass even though he’s dead so it’s a non issue at this point.

The man’s gone.

Stacy soon forgets among trying to keep up with the itinerary that her family had made on google docs over the past few months.

They take a ferry in the general direction of the address Lily gave her because it’s a fun way to travel. Connor comes along but Vy stays behind in the hotel because she wants to call her parents.

“Did they go to school here,” Connor asks, because it had been a few years and he hadn’t really kept in touch with you the way Stacy and the others had.

“No,” Stacy explains as she double checks the address while Sofi points out cute houses as they walk down the street google maps is saying the house is on. “They went to UWash. I think they studied something boring like finance which I know Ava made fun of them in the group chat about.”

Sofi, a current law student, asks, “what’s wrong with finance?”

Connor snorts, “you’re talking about the same woman that helped organize supplies for her campus’ black lives matter protests.”

“Ava’s very anti-establishment,” Stacy explains because Sofi hasn’t met Ava. Her old friend had transferred to Berkeley before Stacy started dating Sofi, but not before showing everyone her minor magical abilities. “You know, the whole break up the banks, give native americans their land back, will definitely end up a granola anthropology professor in some university after her goth phase.”

Sofi nods, “Ah, I get it. She’s not wrong about the banks. Did you watch the big short?”

“You have the most boring taste in movies,” Stacy teases because this woman made her watch Dunkirk which was long and boring and the soundtrack gave her a headache.

Her girlfriend shrugs shamelessly, “I did do a film studies minor so. . .”

Stacy knocks on the door. “I hope they’re in.” It’s a cute if small house on the edge of the city, close enough to still be part of Vancouver without being in the middle of traffic. There’s a subway station just two streets over, but taking the ferry had been much nicer. Subways had lost their charm in new york after all the times Stacy had been an hour or two late because of some issue.

“Wait,” Connor asks, raising a brow, “you didn’t text them?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Stacy admits. She hadn’t seen you in over two years. You had even less of a reason to be in Westchester compared to everyone who’s family still lived there. Your house had sat empty since you left for college.

“I think it's cute,” Sofi says, wrapping her arms around Stacy’s waist from behind.

Stacy smiles, blushing slightly.

The door opens up and holy fuck.

Stacy gasps, her mouth forming a wide O because she can’t even form a coherent thought.

A very much alive and happy Noah Marshall opens the door, wearing a pink apron that says something inane “kiss the cook”, with more than a bit of food stains, and flour on his chin. He’s not wearing a beanie, but it’s summer and Stacy is sweating even in shorts, and his hair is cut and styled instead of long and greasy like it had been in high school. His eye color has somehow changed from brown to a strange shiny blue that seems too catlike to be natural but that’s whatever when he’s apparently risen from the dead.

What the hell!

Connor is just as flabbergasted as she is.

And Noah’s caught off guard, the easy smile dying on his lips as he realizes who’s at the door.

It’s Sofi that spares them, asking Noah if you’re home, because she doesn’t know anything about what went down in your senior year of high school.

Noah nods wordlessly, “yeah, yeah, come in,” even though he looks like that's the last thing he wants to do looking as grim faced as he had been in school, sitting in the back and refusing to talk to anyone.

For once, Stacy wishes Sofi wasn't here because she wants nothing more than to kick Noah’s ass. She took kickboxing lessons, she totally could. Noah's taller, but not exactly built in the same way Andy is after all the years of exercise; though he's not exactly a scrawny teenager anymore.

How long has this been going on?

You're sitting at the kitchen table, a cheap flimsy thing from Ikea that at least has the decency to look nice, laptop open while wearing a moth-eaten oversized t-shirt of the beastie boys. You don't even look up, when you ask nonchalantly, “so who was at the door?” You reach a hand from another chip, eating straight from the bag.

“Stacy,” Noah says faux cheerfully. And Stacy did not miss how annoying he could be. “And Connor Green.”

You finally look up. A couple thousand emotions running through your face: surprise as you open your lips to speak and then close it without a word, your brow furrows as you frown, then you exchange glances with Noah, then you're blushing red as you meet Stacy's questioning gaze, caught red handed. After a second, you can't meet her gaze, instead looking at Connor the same way you had that year as if he could single handedly save you from everything and no wonder you asked him to the dance, oblivious to Stacy's crush on you at the time.

“Hey Connor, long time no see,” you get up, crossing the length of the small kitchen to hug him, “Andy's always going on about you, you know.”

Connor manages a smile, “it's good to see you, too.”

“Hi, I'm Sofi,” she says, extending a hand, “Stacy’s told me a lot about you.”

You shake her hand, inviting her to down sit, “all of you. Dinner’salmost ready.” You glance at Stacy asking. . .

She shakes her head. Of course she hasn't mentioned Noah. She's tried to erase him from her memories the same way she's tried to forget all about the ruins in the woods and Dan disappearing.

“Not that you helped,” Noah quips, proceeding to slip back into the kitchen.

“Self care.” You smile back, confirming her suspicion that this had been going on for a while. And you haven't mentioned anything. Not once. But then, you stopped bringing him up when you realized everyone was on the same page, the page you weren't, after what he had done, no amount of childhood tragedy could excuse the fact he had been willing to kill all his friends for some monster. Stacy couldn't find it in her to forgive him, even in death.

Meanwhile, you had spent too much time after everything that happened crying over this jerk.

“What are you making,” Sofi asks as Stacy takes a seat, everything clicking together as you offer everyone something to drink, exchanging lovesick smiles with Noah even as he bats you away from the stove with a spatula.

You loved him.

Despite everything he had done, you loved him. Stacy couldn't understand: had been closer to Dan and you than Noah even as kids. The way you looked at him said everything; the way you'd chased after him, unwilling to let him go into the woods alone.

It made sense why you were so willing to forgive him, and why you had spent so much time mourning him.

“Vegetable pot pie,” Noah explains, starting to roll out the dough, “This one decided to become vegetarian.”

“Since when,” Connor asks, deciding to just go along with it all. Maybe Connor was just mentally stronger, better able to cope with all the supernatural weirdness having helped Tom out at the lake, and still trying to understand the power from all of Pritch’s journals.

“Just a few months ago,” you admit. “It was this whole vegan challenge at work for the month but I missed yogurt a lot but giving up meat was pretty easy.”

“Where are you working now,” Stacy asks, taking a seat carefully, making sure not to turn her back on Noah.

“Oh,” you smile, closing your computer, resting your chin against your hand, “UBC, at the anthropology museum. It's why I-we moved here. I do financial analysis for their investments. Ava found it really funny that I got a job at a museum before her.”

“Oh,” Stacy wonders, glancing at Noah again, who's just as tense if the line of his shoulders is anything to go by, and the telling line of his mouth that reminds Stacy of the first and last time she tried to include him: a APUSH presentation that Noah had waved off and preferred to bomb. “You told Ava?”

She feels the sting of hurt but Ava makes the most sense considering you were closest to her and Lily. Not to mention Ava was still messing around with the occult. A heavy lead ball of anxiety always forms whenever Ava has shown Stacy her magic tricks.

You get the double meaning.

Noah pointedly ignores her, carrying a conversation about the best places to eat in the city with Sofi.

You force yourself to smile, “about the job yeah. Thought she'd laugh since she's the anthropologist. She called it the encroachment of late stage capitalism.”

“That sounds about right for Ava,” Stacy snorts.

You'd chosen Noah over her: over your friends. The choice had already been made before Stacy had even known this was an option.

You two were a packaged deal.

Stacy takes a deep breath, and turns her back on Noah, joining the light conversation of local things to do in Vancouver and how you had completely face planted while trying to ice skate.

“-and instead of helping me,” you tease, getting plates out for everyone, “Noah just sat back and laughed!”

“And took a video,” Noah points out. “You don't have any balance babe.”

“I wouldn't do you like that,” you wrinkle your nose, smiling fondly as Noah brings the food out of the oven, the smell filling the small house and suddenly Stacy’s mouth is watering.

“You have,” he replies all mock offended, “you left me in the cab!”

“I was very drunk,” you shrug shamelessly, then turn to Sofi and Connor with an explanation. “Too much fun on date night.”

“Shut up,” Noah utters, placing the food on the table, looking incredibly soft and it finally sinks in. He's alive. He's alive and you're together and while Stacy doesn't care for him, she's glad you're doing well.

She's still going to punch him the first chance she gets.

The food’s some of the best she's ever had.

She hugs you goodbye two hours later: a great big tight hug that says everything she hasn't been able to because of distance. She puts all her love and tenderness into hugging you. “It was so good seeing you,” Stacy says and means it. One day they'll talk about this.

But not now.

She's dragging Sofi into this.

You nod, hugging her back just as tight, before whispering in softly into her ear, “please don't tell anyone.”

And how could she refuse, with your sweet chocolate eyes looking at her like that, as if she holds everything you hold dear in her hands. It's easy for Stacy to make the choice to look away and say nothing.

Lily.

Britney makes them take a hundred selfies before they even leave the airport. Lily beams at the camera even as she pays for starbucks. “Aw man we should've tried tim hortons now that we're officially in Canada.” Lily muses, shooting you a text, letting you know she'd soon be out of the airport.

“But do they have peppermint frappuccinos,” Britney asks, leading the way as they head to the exit. Airports were always so big. It took forever to get anywhere.

“I'm not big on peppermint,” Lily comments even though Britney already knows that, before taking a long sip of her pink drink. She really had been craving a drink. That was another thing about planes: dehydration. Still, it would be worth it to visit you for the first time since you moved to Canada.

“I know,” Britney winks, “that's just more peppermint bark for me.”

Britney's the one that spots you first. Lily's taller than you, but still pretty short. “Your loser friends over there.” Britney teases and it shows how far she and Lily have come that they're able to laugh about the time wasted in high school where she bullied other kids including Lily.

Lily follows on her heels, fixing her coat to try and look cute. It had only been a three hour plane ride but it was three hours plus dealing with airport security so it felt closer to three years. Gosh it had almost been three years since she graduated college. Time just flew by.

Excitement bubbles up and Lily’s smiling hard when she sees you in an olive green jacket and grey hoodie combo, still the same as ever if happier now that you weren't stressing about school.

She had meant to visit you sooner but being an adult meant things often got in the way.

Then Lily spots Noah Marshall hovering behind you, laughing at something you just said , face lit up like a kid who's just been told they can finally dig into their Halloween candy. Except it can't be Noah because he's dead. Yet here he is, wearing a black coat, washout blue hoodie, and of course a beanie. If Jocelyn was here, she'd say he looks like an asshole wearing aviators indoors.

Removing any doubt of who he is, Lily having already come up with a reasonable explanation of you having coped with Noah's death by finding a lookalike, dies when he spots Britney and Lily before you. “Lily,” Noah grins as if he didn't die after trying to kill her, “you looked like someone kicked your puppy.”

You smack his shoulder. “Behave,” you tease as you try and smother a gasp. You meet her gaze sheepishly, but Lily's still too flabbergasted to respond.

“Aren't you supposed to be dead,” Britney asks.

He deadpans, “Mandela effect.”

This time, you dissolve into laughter.

Noah glances over at you with a smile, pleased with himself.

Lily finally manages, “explain.”

You nod, “let's get you settled in first.”

Britney hands her bag to Noah, “here. I need to carry Lily's bag.”

“Sure thing,” Noah snorts, taking her bag.

Lily had imagined Canada to be much more green. Like a national park green, with so much plant life she could smell it thick in the air, but it's pretty much just another downtown metropolitan area like Seattle. You'd really only moved a few hours away from Seattle so that made sense.

She keeps glancing over at Noah as if he'll disappear and this is some trick from whatever thing still lived in Westchester. But he's still there, flesh and blood, his arm draped around your shoulder as they stand by where she and Britney have taken a seat, bags under their feet. They had only brought carry on bags.

You're obviously together but Lily keeps getting stuck on the fact that Noah's alive.

She isn't surprised. Noah only ever had time for you that year; both of you slinking off when you thought no one was paying attention. Lily remembers seeing you hug Noah in some lonely corner of the school if you didn't skip fifth period math.

And Connor had said he'd seen you both out in town during school hours.

Maybe it's the glasses.

Noah won't be alive to her until she sees his entire face, leaving no room for error.

“Can't believe you're moving to Seattle!” You repeat because yeah Lily had gotten a nice job offer there.

“Neither can I,” Britney complains, “I like SF, and I'd like to live somewhere warm one day. Aren't there any major tech firms in Miami?”

“Nasa,” Lily says thoughtfully, “I didn't have the experience to apply though.”

Her girlfriend frowns, “You went to Berkeley though. That has to count for like ten years.”

Lily laughs.

“You should've shot your shot,” you agree.

“Isn't Florida super humid though,” Noah mentions tilting his head, reminding Lily that he's there and she can't help but flinch. “And there's tons of snakes and agitators everywhere.”

“I like snakes,” Britney notes.

He had been so sweet those last few weeks, Lily thinks to herself. Noah was always saying how she was much stronger because she could be kind even as everything was going to hell. In english, she'd burst into tears, sick and tired of having nightmares just to wake up to a living nightmare, and he'd chased after her, comforting her.

It had made his betrayal hurt all the more.

“So how exactly are you,” Lily asks, dancing around the subject. Surely it was rude to bring up that Noah had been dead.

“Alive,” he replies, quirking his brow, holding Britney's bag as he opens the door.

“Yeah. . .that.”

This time, when you and Noah look at each other, there's no boundless joy that fits in perfectly with the holiday season. You've even put up snowmen in the house's windows, and there's lights wrapped around the porch: off right now. It's just you looking at Noah with glassy eyes and Noah with an amount of tenderness in his eyes that Lily didn't know people were capable of in real life: the look people get when they're finally able to confess how in love they are in movies.

It's only there for a second and then Noah's making light of the whole situation, as if he can't stand to see that haunted look in your eyes, “Well you know what they say, when you wish upon a star-”

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking his arm, then changing your mind and squeezing his arm. “Don't be a dick.” Then you round your attention on Lily, “there's the shoe rack.” Before ushering the group into the living room. “I-I didn't,” you take a deep breath, tugging your coat off as you take a seat on a cheap navy cotton couch. “I guess I never stopped looking for a way,” you glance at Noah, “for a way to fix things. I mean, I still went back there for all the school breaks.”

You've stopped looking at Lily, gaze locked on Noah's. Pink dusts his cheeks and he ducks his head, looking alway, out into the quiet street, skyscrapers in the distance.

Britney purses her lips, listening intently. She heard accounts of this nature from Jocelyn. Dan knee better than to tell her anything about the woods back home.

“And I found it,” you finish without elaboration. Lily understands. Some things were, there were some things too awful to speak once again into being.

He slips his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.

It's sweet and though Lily's reservations remain, it's clear he loves you.

“Okay then,” Britney claps together, knowing full well she was ruining the moment, “how soon can we go shopping. I'm doing all my christmas shopping in Canada.”

“Because of the exchange rate,” Noah sneers, not missing a beat.

“Hardly,” Britney snaps back, “I'm a certified trophy wife now.” She smiles as she looks over at Lily who giggles.

It's two in the morning and Lily keeps tossing and turning. It's warm with the heater chugging away in the night. But she can't sleep.

They'd spent the whole day out, exploring the city. You'd gotten a few days off work. Britney had made you both carry bags and bags of gifts as promised.

At least she'd have plenty of time to wrap them. December had only just begun.

But Lily can't sleep.

It isn't the nightmares of her childhood: of Jane and all the things she wishes she had said no to, or those terrible months in which Lily had nearly died from sheer terror, but a pool of anxiety masquerading as restlessness.

She gets up, having visited you before back in Seattle, back when you had shared an apartment with Ava and a revolving door of roommates during college, and wonders if Ava knows. Ava, who messes around in the more supernatural corners of the world, who you had always been closest too.

Lily gets up and decides maybe a glass of water will calm her down as she chews over the idea of Noah and her both under the same roof.

She slips into the dark kitchen, with that weird anxiety that she was sneaking around that she could never shake even knowing that you wouldn't mind her going through your kitchen. She slips into the kitchen and nearly faints at the sight of Noah at the table.

He's sitting in pitch dark.

Only it isn't-

“-your eyes,” Lily hisses, breaking the calm of the twilight hours.

Noah's sitting in the dark reading.

Because his eyes are glowing blue like redfield when she was little and redfield was a friend and hadn't shown it's true nature.

Noah's eyes are glowing.

“Shit,” Noah says gently, reaching up to flip the lights on.

He moves slowly, but Lily still flinches.

“I'm sorry Lils,” he says, those three words encompassing so many years and the darkest parts of her life, casting a shadow over her whole life she can never escape because Westchester is home but it's also where it happened and Noah's a big part of why Lily spent a year having panic attacks: having flashbacks to that awful game. He says it and the last itchy scab over the deep wound Lily has harbored for years flakes off.

Lily does a little nod of acceptance, but keeps her eyes on his unnaturally reflective eyes, a light in the dark.

She swallows thickly.

That glass of water sounds amazing right about now.

“What are you doing reading in the dark,” she asks. It seems Noah had been right all those years ago; Lily was able to keep trying, a flower growing in a crack of cement.

“Studying,” Noah says calmly. “It's pretty boring actually. Sort of makes me wish I was still haunting the woods.” His smile is small, testing the waters.

Lily-she can't. She shits her eyes, shaking her head once, slow.

“Sorry,” he says easily, shutting a thick textbook, “coping mechanism.”

Lily thinks about all those nights she'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare, “is it a glitch then?” She tilts her head curiously, the way she spent hours going over the same file of code checking for any bugs: and mistakes that had slipped through the cracks.

“You could call it that. . .but they reckon that it's more of a give and take situation.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “The power takes people but gives them power, and when, when they brought me back, I took something with me.”

For once, dread doesn't fill Lily at the mention of what lies in the woods back home.

Lily nods, and pours herself a glass of water. “What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” Noah answer's, “trying to do developmental psychology. I want to,” he waits a beat before finishing in a rush. “I'd like to be a child therapist.”

“I thought you wanted to go to culinary school,” Lily questions. She remembers you mentioning that once. Then there's the fact that Noah had brought her lunch to school a few times when he'd learned that Lily's parents had forced her into a diet.

“I did,” he shrugs. “Turns out I like to cook for myself more than anything.”

Lily smiles.

She's glad he's able to move on like she has.

“You know I use to have nightmares. Nothing really helped apart from-.”

“Tiring myself out,” you both finish.

Noah smiles grimly.

Lily drinks he water and keeps him company for a while.

Lucas

Logically, Lucas knows that Canada is not that different from the states yet he still feel like the place should be more exotic as he steps off the plane for work. It's grueling work really, the pay is bad and he flies economy more than is healthy for his back, but he likes keeping private corporations on their toes. That was the whole point of environmental science, though going to law school for the same thing is starting to look more and more appealing everyday.

He just feels like he doesn't have the weight to truly go after these people and hates having to pass off the cases when he knows he could do more.

But law school is. . .stressful.

He'd have already started his third year of law if he had just gone straight to law school after undergrad.

Lucas wonders if he's ready to manage that type of stress.

He gets off the plane and has to go directly to the non-profits office. It's a tiny little thing in a rougher part of the city; gone are the shiny sports cars and whole foods.

There's boxes of paperwork dating back from the 60s and he gets to work, drinking the cheap donut shop coffee that the office head, an amicable black man who still has a rhythmic african accent that Lucas isn't worldly enough to place, gives him with a shrug, “got to support our local businesses eh?”

Lucas nods. “Tell me about it. I feel like I missed out on the New York that was happening.” Ava had sent him a buy back the block patch and he really hadn't been surprised because she had always been opinionated and headstrong about it. If she was the town witch, well then she was going to be the biggest baddest witch.

He types a reminder into his notes to get her a souvenir.

He uses yelp to find a cheap diner, where he continues to pour over a thick manila folder--have to break up the work--and finds that he can smell the ocean here even when he can't exactly see it.

Lucas sets a reminder to himself to go enjoy the beach at least once.

Then he sees the reminder to call and ask Stacy where you were living. Lucas half wanted it to be a surprise, but worried he'd miss you.

He knew you liked going out dancing. And he had arrived on a Friday night.

It was unorthodox.

He usually worked strictly in the states since each country had their own laws and environmental precedent established by the courts. And alright, Lucas’ phone had a lot of law school tabs open. He was only twenty four. That wasn't too old for law school.

Weren't some students in legally blonde in their thirties?

Experience could give him an edge.

Lucas calls Stacy but it goes straight to voice mail.

Right, time difference.

He'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Having not exchanged any money as of yet, Lucas pays for his breakfast for dinner with his card and hopes the fee isn't too bad. Then he stuffs the folders and decides to walk to his hotel.

It's an hour long walk through town but years of being incredibly stressed had left him with the purposeful choice of slowing down when he could. Sometimes it felt like forcing himself to slow down, but he always felt better after a walk through a new city or sitting down with a fictional book even when he swore he didn't feel all wound up.

As far as cheap diners, tonight's was good and he had fun trying poutine.

Lucas walks through the tall buildings and wishes he hadn't worn a suit jacket. He should've worn a plain shirt or one of those gag gifts Andy was always sending him from various thrift stores. It might be further up north than even he grew up, but it was still hot in the summer.

Walking an hour in a casual suit was not his greatest idea, but the city carried the same vibrant energy the new york had. The energy that had encouraged Lucas to go to a house party--once.

He's walking by a street full of dive bars all blaring out nostalgic hits from his teenage years from Hannah Montana, which okay, to Kesha which sounded about right, and of course, Blackpink. The chalkboards outside all promise cheap drinks but Lucas isn't a big drinker.

He isn't sure how much of that is avoiding any substance that could get him hooked or if he's making that choice because he really doesn't like alcohol.

Lucas is just about through, about to by a monolithic building that has a bunch of displays in the windows, when he does a double take.

Noah fucking Marshall is smoking on the curb outside a bar, face flushed.

There's no doubt about it. Lucas would know that asshole anywhere. The same sharp jawline and prominent nose, brown hair curling around his ears only a few inches showered than it had in high school. He's wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket over a white shirt and looking way too happy for a murderer.

Noah Marshall wearing aviators at night like the rat bastard he is!

The intense feelings of rage and wanting to hit something until the world righted itself surges in Lucas’ chest until there's a white hot anger in his throat and red clouding his vision.

He blacks out.

One second he's furiously gapping at the man-

the next

-Lucas is standing over Noah Marshall, knuckles on fire having just sucker punched the fucker.

Oh shit.

Noah looks just as surprised for a second as he looks up, blood beading up where his lips split open.

Lucas watches as recognition hits those bambi blue eyes---wait, blue.. .?

And then Noah shrugs, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he states, “yeah. I deserved that.”

There's a couple people looking over.

Lucas is still pissed as Noah gets up, dusting himself off and looking at the barely smoked cigarette on the ground as if he wants to smoke it, before grabbing the glasses and placing them back on instead.

Then, he grabs another cigarette, “want one,” he offers Lucas who no, wouldn't want one: wouldn't want anything from Noah if he was drowning and Noah had the only life jacket.

He was good with drowning.

Thanks.

Lucas, anger still fizzing under his skin like boiling water, asks, “how the fuck are you here!”

Noah shrugs, before slurring and it's then that Lucas realizes the other man is flushed drunk, “I live here,” without an ounce of sarcasm.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lucas says, curling his lip and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh you know me. I'm just plotting world domination and decided Vancouver would be the perfect location for my evil villain lair. I've got a neon sign and everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, grinding his teeth together. “Do you always have to be such an asshole?”

Noah spreads his hands out and proceeds to do jazz hands, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Fuck, Lucas feels like punching him again.

He's really thinking about it as he watches Noah, sure the idiot will try something again, when he hears your voice as you stumble out of the bar, “I knew it! You were going out for a smoke break!”

Noah's entire demeanor shifts, no longer the boy Lucas has built up in his head as the cause of all their problems. Over the years, he's decided that Noah had known from the start. In the depths of his denial, Lucas had told himself that Noah had kidnapped Dan. But, you appear, and Noah's turns bright pink as he hurried to stomp out the cigarette you've already seen like a naughty school boy, even as he turns and smiles as if you hung the sun in the sky and painted the night stars. It's lovesick the way you both look at each other with the fondness of ancient couples out for a walk in the park, lost in their own world.

However the fuck he's alive, Lucas realizes that this Noah, the real living Noah, has been just as freaked as the rest of them. It's something he hasn't thought about in years.

Noah had lost Jane.

It's enough for Lucas to unclench his hands even if he's still seething because what the hell, he still offered them all up on a silver platter. Redfield or Jane--whatever it was in the end--had given Ava powers and she hadn't stabbed your group of friends in the back.

You cross the distance quickly, and throw your arms around his middle, tipsy. That's probably why your smile is so pure-untouched by all the trauma and boring adult problems like remembering to pay the bills and having to call the cable company for the fifth time.

You don't even notice Lucas.

“What happened to your face,” you ask, raising your hand to cup Noah's cheek, frowning.

Noah nods over at Lucas.

You finally notice him.

“Lucas,” you wag your finger at him, still cuddled up to the man in question, “You can't punch Noah. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him back?”

It shouldn't be possible, but Noah turns pinker.

“Aw babe,” Noah teases you with a familiarity that carries depth.

This wasn't a new development then.

“You really do care about me.”

This time, you round on Noah, wagging your finger menacingly, “Don’t be an idiot! Of course I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!”

Which has Lucas majorly side eyeing you.

Sure, Noah had grown up to be tall and not unattractive, as far as pasty white boys were concerned, but he'd still tried to kill everyone.

Noah also looks skeptical.

“What are you doing in town Lucas,” you then ask.

“Work,” Lucas replies blandly, as he tries to come to terms with this reality altering discovery. “You were dead.”

“That's not entirely true,” Noah muses philosophically, “Physically I was dead but technically I was still roaming the woods as a monster.”

Reflexively, you interject, resting your hand on his chest, “you're not a monster.”

“I thought you liked the shape of water.”

Which sends you squealing. “Noah!”

Lucas doesn't get it. You are the strongest person he knows who can talk to anyone and has a sense of determination that rivals a gold medalist: the one who kept everyone together during one of the shiftiest times in his life, and he's who you settle for! “If you have to say technically, you've already lost the argument.”

You snort.

Noah rolls his eyes good naturedly.

“Wait,” you realize, eyes going wide, “does that mean you're younger than me now.”

Noah tilts his head in thought, “physically. . .”

“Pretty sure that means yes,” Lucas adds, wondering how long Noah had been back for.

“Oh my god, I'm stealing from the cradle!”

Noah looks incredibly affronted as he blinks rapid looking down at you like you'd grown a second head.

“You mean cradle robbing?”

“I'm. . .twenty four,” Noah says. Not even he sounds convinced.

“Twenty two,” you correct archly. Then look at Lucas with a friendly smile, “you want to go get pho?”

“Right now!” Lucas checks his watch. It was already midnight. He should've been at his hotel room sleeping by now.

You nod.

Noah elaborates, “it's pricey but the broth hits different. They have some pretty good view of the city too.”

Two years. Noah had been back for two years and you never said anything.

Lucas can put up with Noah for a few hours to spend time with you. After all, you were the one who was putting up with him for life apparently.

“Should we let-,” you begging to ask, amusement dancing in your eyes, city lights reflected in the dark brown hue that had a quality of depth that made it easy to open up to you.

“Nah,” Noah smirks, “Sheer chatted some dude up, they won't even realize-”

“Rahul will though.”

“Psst, it's fine.”

You've both built a life here, far removed from any traces of Westchester. Maybe that's where he had gone wrong. Lucas had been so desperate to escape he's never found a place of his own, and still haunted by his one and only home: a place he wants nothing to do with. He needed to make a new home.

Law school wasn't sounding too shabby.

Noah leads the way.

A lightbulb turns on.

“What's with your eyes?” Lucas asks.

Noah chuckles, “sometimes you fall into a vat of radioactive waste because that's just the type of luck you have.”

You shake your head, amused. “Side effect. It's nothing serious. We checked.”

That doesn't comfort Lucas at all.

He wonders if Connor or Tom could fix that just to be sure Noah wouldn't suddenly go Redfield on you while you were sleeping.

Ugh, that was one mental image he didn't need.

“So what terrible horrifying government secret are you here investigating and does it have to do with a company hiding vats of radioactive waste,” you ask.

Lucas takes the bait.

He could and has talked people's ears off about the loose regulations on place on waste disposal among an array of industries.

Andy, Dan, Tom

This all starts with two things as far as Tom is concerned. First, they've all been talking for ages about doing a guys road trip after everyone still around Westchester had driven down to visit Ava. Not that the girls weren't fun, Tom thought to himself, but it just sounded nice.

He never had a sleepover growing up so this would make up for that. At least that was the idea.

Then Lucas called Andy freaking out about Noah Marshall and Connor could only nod and go, “yeah he was with them about a year. . almost two since we visited. I think it's already been two years.”

Which was a total mindfuck because why hadn't he mentioned anything.

Why hadn't Stacy?

Tom’s done some research into necromancy and it never ends well which is why they pile into Dan’s prius and hit the road to Vancouver Canada. Sans Connor because Vy is pregnant and Connor is glued to her side. “I think they were dating,” he also adds, bookmarking some cases around New Orleans that scream supernatural activity. That throws everyone for another mind loop as he clues the Pine Springs gang who wasn't there that senior year, why Noah Marshall shouldn't be alive, much less freely walking around. The only person who takes the news relatively well is Dan, who scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “that makes sense,” he nods to himself.

Andy rounds on him, ready to kick Noah's ass on sight which Tom will totally back him up on. Tom still can't handle spiders for which Danni and Jocelyn continue to tease him about.

“How in the fuck does that make sense,” Andy seeths, “that motherfucker landed you in a coma! I broke my leg and had to repeat senior year!”

Dan adds, “well you know, they spoke about how tragic his death was. And they used to have nightmares of him dying-”

They all turn to look at Dan.

“What,” Andy says, “when did they tell you that?”

Dan shrugs, “well they were always coming over that year and making a point to spend time with everyone but I always thought they looked sad and thinking about them alone on the edge of town,” he trails off. He’d never brought up your parents absence, but it was clearly felt. “So I went over to theirs when I could,” Dan finishes.

Andy shakes his head, “no. I don’t know what or how, but people don’t just come back from the dead and everything's sunshine and roses,” he crosses his arms against his chest and fumes across the entire state of New York.

Tom has to agree with Andy. There’s nothing in their research to suggest that people can just come back okay. Everything taken by the power ended up twisted into a funhouse version; it never ended well.

They stretch their legs in Cleveland, Andy still scowling. Every now and then he’ll rant about how Noah has to be up to something and he has to go save you from dying. Tom doesn’t bring it up, prefering to let Andy work through it now and wrap his head around Noah Marshall being alive on the car ride up to Canada, but Connor had said Noah’s been back for at least two years--wouldn’t he already have done something? He thinks of you and how you had been alone with Noah at the end. Maybe you had kept some things to yourself.

It was hard to relive trauma aloud.

It made it more real.

Tom sends Imogen a few snaps in Toledo as Andy blasts The White Stripes, to fit his mood.

He wishes Parker had been able to get the days off. Having someone at a distance from the situation might help everyone keep their cool. He knows he won’t stop Andy from beating Noah’s ass.

Dan picks up postcards in Chicago for everyone, as they sit by the famous Bean eating pizza.

“I can’t tell if this is better or if I’m fucking starving,” Andy admits, on his third slice.

Dan snorts, looking up from his lap where he’s writing out the postcards, wanting to send them quickly, “so they make it back before we do.”

Tom takes a walk around the plaza, thinking that fall really was the best weather, cold enough for a sweater without being too freezing and the sun didn’t burn.

They don’t stop in Wisconsin or Minnesota except for gas and Mcdonalds.

Andy sleeps as Tom takes over the driving.

Dan’ll be up next.

“Please play something other than Beach House,” Tom complains at Dan, “this is going to make me fall asleep.”

Dan chuckles, “Its good night driving music.”

“No Dan,” Tom shakes his head with a smile

The sun rises, and Tom gets to sleep.

He wakes up in Rapid City, South Dakota and they have to recreate that awful Hilary Clinton, “just chilling in Rapid City,” Andy says mockingly.

Dan almost chokes on his coffee.

Montana is so fucking beautiful and Tom’s seized with the sudden urge to come live out here. “We could totally do it,” he tells the other men, “it’s cheap out here. We could buy a huge piece of land and never have to deal with any bullshit again. Our friend group could do it. Danni’s really handy and Lily could set us up with wifi!”

“Bro,” Andy says gravely, “you know I love you, but I’m not moving to Montana with you.”

Dam smiles softly, “Danni would have a field day taking pictures here.”

Montana is beautiful and green and none of the nature here has that heavy feeling the woods in Westchester do, but they’re tired and exhausted from being on the road for the last two days. They crash at a motel 8 and sleep for the next twelve hours.

They ask this beautiful woman who's wearing birks and has a tote bag emblazoned “love your mother” with a planet earth painted on, to take a picture of them in front of Pike Place Market. Dan has her number before Tom’s done sending the pictures to his Pine Springs groupchat, teasing Parker about having stayed behind to yell at teenagers smoking weed while driving boats around the lake: accidents waiting to happen.

Tom has never been to Seattle.

He knows most of his friends from Westchester have to visit you or Ava, and he's grown close to Ava, but at the time he was more of a friend of a friend and so never flew up to Seattle.

“Is it lame I'm still tired,” Andy asks, as they find a park to sit down at. It felt so good to be able to lay in the grass instead of sitting cramped up in the car.

“Age is starting to hit us.” Dan muses. “Either of you want to come get some things with me.”

His friend snorts, “Haven't you gotten enough gifts for everyone?” Which, yeah, Dan has been accumulating a small horde of souvenirs in the back for all his friends. He's a thoughtful guy. Tom’s not surprised the man’s a nurse. If he'd had Dan as a nurse when he was a kid, he might not completely hated going to the doctors office.

“I was kinda thinking about getting something from every state,” Dan says, blushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I think it's sweet,” Tom says, clasping a hand on the other man's back. “Cheesy, but sweet.”

Andy shakes his head, “we should've gotten there by now. If only we hadn't stopped in Montana-”

“Noah's not going anywhere,” Dan points out, “you can kick his ass tonight or tomorrow.”

“They know we’re coming,” Andy scowls, “He could be halfway around the world by now.”

“Just remember Lucas already sucker punched him,” Tom offers his friend as consolation.

Dan shakes his head a little, but stays silent. Tom hasn't been able to get Dan’s feelings on the whole situation. He can’t imagine him being completely ambivalent or cool with Noah getting off scot free, but then again, Tom doesn’t know every little detail.

No one talks about it in detail even in their little power club that Connor and him started up.

He gets it.

It’s not something anyone wants to linger on.

And he understands better than most.

His monster was different, but no less horrifying.

“I’ll go with you,” Tom offers Dan, because this is a new city and even though the point is to go see what's up with Noah, and make sure he isn’t still the shadow monster he was the last time Tom saw him, he still wants to make the most of it.

“Two hours,” Andy says with a warning. “Two hours or I leave you in Seattle.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom shakes his head. Andy would never do them like that.

“If you’re coming we should go to the space needle,” Dan says thoughtfully, taking out his phone to begin google mapping the places he wants to hit up.

“Two hours!” Andy calls back from where he’s watching a couple people play basketball.

Tom discovers he has a thing about heights as they ascend via an elevator. It’s a slow day and the elevator operator talks him through it, telling him all sorts of bad puns and more information about the space needle then he can remember. “Sarah Palin came by the other day,” the woman who looks to be about their age with green ringlets and a friendly smile that doesn’t seem to be forced like most customer service workers smile (smile through the pain), “and she said she could see Alaska from here! Get it?”

Tom tries to smile, but yeah, he’s never doing this again. “Did you see the masked singer with Sarah Palin?”

The girl nods, “how the mighty have fallen. You think there's an alternate universe where she was vice president and insead Joe Biden’s on Dancing with the Stars?”

Tom’s laugh dies in his throat as the elevator jolts to a stop. It certainly feels like a huge jolt, but that may be his anxiety making everything elven times worse.

“Well thank you for riding air force two,” she salutes as Tom finally steps into the platform.

Sweet, sweet relief.

He sort of has to go take a picture or two off the viewing platform. He’s made it this far.

“She was totally into you,” Dan says, stepping in to take Tom’s mind off things.

“Was not.”

“Totally was.”

Tom rolls his eyes, “she was just being nice.”

“Sure man, sure. But she was.”

They arrive even later than Andy had predicted. It’s midnight and proof that they had dallied in Seattle for two long. This is the first time Dan has ever left the country so of course they stop and take pictures.

And then they stop and eat at the cute little cabin lodge just off the highway.

And even Andy forgets about the Noah business.

They pull into the street, disappearing from the city in the turn onto the street. It’s crazy how much of a difference a street can make. A little quiet row of houses tucked under the twinkling lights of the city lights.

Your house is a small one story thing, clearly an older home from before cookie cutter houses came into fashion, and with a certain amount of charm even with the dead plant by the doorstep: closer to a cottage than a house like something out of Snow White. There’s even a ouija board doormat that Tom thinks is completely in line with your humor and probably Noah’s as well. He just doesn’t remember much about Noah when he was alive. Last time Tom saw Noah, Noah was saying sorry to the birds. People could change.

Right?

It’s not like Noah had gone all Zodiac Killer on his friends.

The lights are off and Tom feels kind of bad that he’s about to wake you up, but he also really wants to crash in an actual bed.

Dan knocks on your door as Andy paces behind Tom.

A minute later, you peak your head out the door. Your navy blue sweater is cuffed around your hands, clearly meant for someone taller, helping to stave off the autumn chill, and grey flannel pajama pants. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand as you yawn. “You’re here,” you smile and hug Dan with one arm, “do you need any help with the bags.”

“The bags can wait until tomorrow,” Dan answers for the group, “I just want to sleep in a real bed.”

You snort, “don’t actually have a guest room,” you admit, keeping your voice down as you usher them all inside, “but I do have a pretty comfortable pull out couch and way too many quilts. I have to stop going to Victoria Island.”

Andy looks around, tense.

Tom’s a little surprised when you hug him too. “Want any food? There’s a ton of leftovers. Noah’s been stress baking. He has a bunch of exams this week.,” you say with such casualness.

“We already ate,” Dan offers, “there was this cool looking log cabin that sold me on pumpkin spice muffins.”

“Where is Noah,” Andy asks, cutting right to the quick.

You look at him pointedly as you explain, “he went to sleep early. He’s got school at like 7 am. I have no clue why. . .college was all about afternoon classes for me.”

Andy wisely, let’s it go for the moment.

You show them where things are, the couch is already extended. The TV’s sitting on a pile of textbooks with a nintendo switch right next to it.

Tom is out before his head hits the pillow.

They wake up and eat the promised leftovers as you rush to find the spare key to leave with your friends before you too have to go to work. “I would've asked for the day off like I did for the rest of the week,” you hastily explain, filling the electric kettle with water, “but it was Maureen’s birthday and I would’ve felt like such a dickhead.”

You make Dan promise to come look through the Museum you work at before it closes, and then you’re running off with a tumbler full of tea, putting a hand through your hair as if that’ll save it from looking like a mess. Tom’s unsurprised at your easy nature when they’re all imposing, making no secret of the real reason they had driven all the way to the other coast of North America.

Andy conducts a walkthrough of the house, leaving the sole bedroom of the house alone.

Dan shakes his head, flipping through the TV channels, before logging onto your netflix account, the most recent show having been played was Avatar the Last Airbender. “Anything you want to watch?”

“The good place,” Tom offers, “everyone’s always saying it's good.”

Dan shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have netflix.”

Andy comes back with a picture frame clutched in his hand, “He’s such a dick!” Red seeping into his neck as he fumes.

Tom looks over at the picture, but it’s just a photo any normal couple would have hanging around their house: a blurry polaroid of you and Noah, each with a red solo cup at some house party, with the date, over a year ago, written on the border. He gets it, he does. And Andy’s his friend, so he nods.

Dan on the other hand, “okay. . .”

Andy disappears back down the hall. “I just don’t understand how they kept this from us! I mean-after what he did!”

Tom nods the same way he always had when his dad would start lecturing him in japanese even though his japanese is limited to whatever the japanese equivalent of Dora the explorer teaching spanish is.

“Probably so we wouldn’t freak out,” Dan offers, not looking away from the screen.

Andy marches back into the living room with a deep set frown, “Noah was fine offering us up to that monster and now they’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.” He sits down next to Tom, head in his hand. “I just don’t get it.”

He clasps a hand on Andy’s shoulder in comfort.

“Maybe they just wanted to forget as much as we did,” Dan notes quietly. “Some of us left and never really went back.” He’s talking about Lily and Lucas, who only visits during the holidays, then there’s Ava out in Arizona, busy doing field research and only going to Westchester in between jobs. Dan’s an hour away, a world away, near Stacy.

It’s really just Andy and Connor who stayed.

He’s in Pine Springs, a good hour to the west of Westchester.

“He died,” Andy grumbles out, “it could’ve easily been them, or any of us, or all of us. We’re lucky no one else did.”

Dan frowns, looking over at Andy, “I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m not jazzed that Noah’s been back for years and we just found out. But I trust their judgement.”

“Necromancy is serious business,” Tom says, breaking the staring contest that’s started between the two friends.

Noah’s at least a little bit of a coward, as he saunters up to them, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.

You had said this diner had the best malai kofta in the neighborhood.

He’s resting expression is still skewed towards sour, even as there’s other noticeable changes from the Noah Tom remember’s who’d kept to himself in school. His hair cut into a flattering undercut, clothes no longer on the angsty scruffy side but still decidedly casual as he opts for a dark palette, and of course, the blue eyes that seem to glow even in the afternoon light Lucas had mentioned in great detail. Noah’s clean shaven and lean, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

He only spares Tom a second’s glance before he focuses in on you, his lips quirk-ing up in a small smile. Sitting down, you lean forward expectantly as he plants a kiss on your cheek by way of greeting, before saying, “C’s make degrees right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “but you did fine so it doesn’t matter. I ordered you the chicken and waffles. That’s what you usually get right?”

“Actually,” Noah starts, clearly about to tease you.

You shove his shoulder lightly, “beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dan extends an olive branch, “hey Noah.”

Which Andy immediately shoots down, “so it’s true.”

Tom’s only glad they’re already sitting and yeah, Noah’s a coward for meeting them in public, not that it had stopped Lucas from sucker punching him. It probably won’t stop Andy, only he’s sandwiched in between Dan and Tom and there’s no way Dan is getting up and out just so Andy can punch Noah. That’s not the kind of friend Dan is. Dan’ll take someone away to cool off, sprouting lines about being the bigger person, but Tom thinks that sometimes a punch is well earned.

Noah nods, sobering up, rating his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s still. . . it’s still a trip nearly four years later.”

You cover his hand with yours, giving Noah’s hand a squeeze.

Now that they’re here with Noah, a burst of curiosity that’s been brewing in the back of Tom’s mind finally surges forward. “Do your eyes always glow? Or is it light a cat’s iridescence and that’s why you can read in the dark?”

“Gee, let me give you the paperwork the doctor diagnosed me with after I explained that my sister became a shadow monster and I came back to life. He was super nice and helpful about everything. We really don’t pay doctors enough.”

Andy rolls his eyes, “So are you still a monster or not.”

Noah frowns, before leading forward, gripping a glass of ice in hand pointedly, lifting it off the table, watching his own action with a sad fascination, “you can’t begin to imagine how nice it is to be solid again--to be more than a lingering ghost who can barely remember who it used to be.”

Which doesn’t answer the question but--

Some monsters were all too human for comfort. And some monstrous beings ended up friends and allies back in Pine Springs.

You and Dan walk up ahead arm in arm, chatting about everything from how cozy ll bean’s wool socks were to how you wanted to branch out and leave your job but it just couldn't be a bank, working in a cubical all day seemed like a death sentence. Dan fills you in on the news from back home and you both catch up as you walk at a leisurely pace back to your home.

Somehow, Noah manages to be patient as Tom rattles off question after question.

“Do you remember much?”

“What was it like coming back?”

“Can you do any magic thought,” he purses his lips in thought, “that doesn’t tell us much, since Ava’s out there levitating feathers.”

“Are any of your other senses better?”

“Do you have any other changes after coming back?”

“Can you speak to animals now?”

“Do you ever get a craving for human flesh?”

“Your limbs don’t fall off or anything? Right?”

“You have all your memories back?”

“Do you ever see any ghosts?”

“Can you see ghosts?”

Noah answers them patiently, if amused, as Andy skulks behind, clearly listening in on the conversation.

“How did they bring you back,” Tom finally asks, having spent countless nights researching necromancy. It had crept up in the Pine Spring’s society books, journals detail all sort of gorey accounts of their attempts to harness the power to gain power over the dead and living, but none of it had ever amounted to anything. At least in the best case.

One member had rotted away from the inside out, black mold blooming in his lungs, incurable as he choked to death after trying to raise a simple cat from the dead.

Noah tenses up, glancing over to where you’re laughing as Dan does a spot on Bernie impression about how it’s time to once again, “ask for a The man from U.N.C.L.E. sequel,” before meeting Tom’s gaze again. “You’ve formed a little club to keep the power away from people right?”

He nods, “I just-I don’t want more people to go through what we have,” he explains. They had to be proactive and learn so that no one else would stumble upon the power and exploit it to violent ends. Ava’s magic wasn’t derived from the power. Tom had double checked that. Ava’s magic was her own through her own sheer will.

But the power-that was something else entirely.

He swallows thickly.

Nothing had happened so far. And he couldn’t tell if their plan was working, or if they had gotten lucky. It had been a handful of years. But then, a decade had passed between Jane Marshall’s death and her awakening.

“And no one else ever will,” Noah says forlornly.

“Explain,” Andy says, walking up on Noah’s other side.

The man looks up at you, as you and Dan wait by the street corner for the rest of the group to catch up, and he shakes his head. “All you need to know is the power won’t be a problem again.”

Tom runs the problem over and over in his mind as they explore Vancouver and Andy continues to get digs in at Noah while Noah lets him.

He thinks about it as Andy makes everyone watch #Alive. And then Dan reminds them how obsessed everyone was with Inception when it came out. And Tom thinks about Noah’s words. And then you suggest watching something lighter: Zoolander.

Tom plays Noah’s words over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Andy’s snores.

He puzzles over what Noah meant, why he didn’t want to bother you with it, as he drives back across the continent.

The power takes.

The power gives.

He gets it as they stop for gas in New York.

Oh, you really must love him.

Ava

Ava walks into Tom’s house out in Pine springs. It’s summer and she’s ready to spend the entire week swimming and continuing the search for a black lipstick that won’t stain. Fenty came pretty close.

There’s tons of cars in the driveway and she knows she’s the last one to get there; she always did like an entrance.

She tries the doorknob before knocking, hearing the laughter and conversation carry outside. The house is unlocked so she lets herself in; she likes to make entrances, guilty as charged, before following the sound of voices into the back porch overlooking the lake.

Tom had lucked out in buying this place during the summer the lady of the lake terrorized the town.

She’s frozen in shock when she sees Noah sitting with everyone like he hasn't been dead for over eight years. He’s sitting with an arm around you, beer in his other hand, talking with Lily, in a faded AC/DC shirt and dark jeans despite the heat.

Ava pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

“Ava,” Lily cries, spotting her, “you’re here.”

“What the fuck!”

Realization dawns on your face as Noah looks over at the resident goth chick who’s withered into a refined goth woman, less fishnet and more victorian mourning shirts paired with flared black and white leggings, for the first time in eight years and seven months.

“Hey Ava,” he says, lifting his hand up in greeting from where it’s resting on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, as you look at Ava, realizing you’d never gotten around to telling her. Not when you’d visited her for Thanksgiving even though she refused to participate in a propaganda holiday that “perpetuates colonialism” or the time last year when you’d gone to support her big lecture at UMississipi. It had never seemed the right time and now the time to calmly explain was gone.

“Someone explain before I light him on fire,” Ava utters, feeling heat grow in her fingertips. It was easy after years of practice. She was toying with the idea of buying a house in Salem.

Noah doesn’t even flinch.

How could he, having grown up with Jane for a sister that had gone around filling people shoes with mud and shoving people into pools with a laugh. That girl had been fearless, and Ava has long thought if she’d been an inch more scared, you and Jane never would have gone into those ruins.

It almost warms Ava’s cold dead heart.

Ha.

If Ava had sometimes been the third wheel with you and Jane, then Noah had been the ugly duckling waiting for a scrap of attention because Jane shone bright, a sunflower soaking up light, thriving on attention. Maybe Noah hadn’t been all that bothered to let his sister take the lead as kids, even as he grumbled about the trouble they were sure to get into, but neither Marshall twin had cared about anyone’s attention more than yours.

Jane had always been a limpet, her hand in yours.

Ava had been too independent even at nine to always go along with Jane, or want a friend that close.

But you didn’t just go along with Jane, you encouraged her, and dragged Noah along when Jane got too caught up in her made up games to remember to play nice. Noah who even at nine seemed clued into the fact that you were hurt that your parents were never around, something that never occurred to Jane.

So she’s not surprised that Noah and you are a thing.

Figures.

You’d kissed more than one white boy that could vaguely pass for Noah if you had enough to drink in college even if you had only dated twice and neither had been Noah Marshall knockoffs.

It’s glaringly obvious in hindsight.

What she doesn’t get is how he’s alive.

And everyone’s just cool with it.

“I thought you already knew,” Dan says.

Lily looks at you, “didn’t you tell Ava first?”

You raise a brow, “I thought Lucas told everyone?”

Lucas shrugs, wearing a suit in the summer, “I did. I just figured Ava already knew”

Stacy sips her cocktail, “awkward.”

“Wow,” Noah jokes with a grin, “you guys are terrible friends.”

Andy almost chokes on his beer, sending Noah a look that would’ve made Medusa jealous.

Danni shakes her head, “too soon dude, too soon.”

Maybe she should move into Cora’s old house. That way she could keep up with her friends' news.

How the hell did she miss Noah coming back to life.

That was metal as fuck.

She and you would have words about keeping secrets.

“Just give me the strongest drink you can make,” she says with a shake of her head, taking a seat next to Imogen, the resident mixologist.

#noah marshall #ilitw noah #noah x mc #maybe theres two left #reposting bc it didnt show up in the tags #lily's part was my favorite #toeing the line between making noah a sarcastic shit and a traumatized man and a soft boy in love #mine

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ollieoxenfree29 · 4 years ago

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Champagne.

***GIF CREDS TO @vissketches***

Fandom: Detroit Become Human/sight In The Heights Paring: Deviant!Connor (RK800) x Gender Neutral!Reader Requested: No Warnings: Drinking, and maybe four swears. (I say fuck a lot, oops) Word count: 1,112

Author’s note: Based on the song “Champagne” from the musical “In The Heights” written by Lin-Manuel Miranda. (FOR THOSE WHO KNOW THE MUSICAL/SONG:) What I planned on doing was starting the reader as Usnavi and Connor as Vanessa, but then they switch after Vanessa (Connor) sings (says) “Tonight, we’re drinking straight from the bottle.” Also** Sonny is the reader’s brother and Benny is the Reader’s best friend. Does this make sense? I hope so.

(YOUR POINT OF VIEW)

Ugh. I hate closing the shop. I could be in bed right now, with my cat, curled up in blankets. But no! I have to be too nice! No! I had to tell Sonny that he could leave early and get ready for his date tonight with Pete. Now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t seen Hank or even Connor all day. Hank normally comes in for a beer, and him and Benny try their damnedest to get Connor and I together. Given the fact that Benny also looks up to Hank as a father figure, I’m not surprised that Hank and him have teamed up well to pair Connor and I. Sure, I like the guy, and I want to be with him to help him with his newfound deviancy.

That’s another thing. Connor is leaving and I can’t do anything about it. He’s heading to Puerto Rico for a job offer. When Hank told me the news, I cried. Hank cried. I helped Hank that night. That stupid android with his ugly, perfect brown hair, his chocolate eyes, and his idiotic face. I love it. I… I love him, and Hank and Benny know it. Honestly, I just want what is best for him. Anyway. Sonny left, and I was just about to close up the store when I heard the door open and the little bell.

“Good evening (Name)! So… I got you a present. I went downtown to get it. Are you doing anything tonight?” I heard Connor’s voice as if it was sweet beautiful music to my ears.

“Oh, hello Connor. I’m just cleaning up here. Sonny is out on a date night with Grifi- i mean Pe-” I got cut off by Connor.

“You are done for the day. You always work so hard all the time. You need to take a break.” He pleaded.

“No way. I would have Sonny help, but he’s only 15. He needs to just be a kid. Y’know I have to be the more responsib-” I started.

“Because we have a date.” He interjected.

“Okay!” I immediately responded.

“Before I board that plane,” He brought out a bottle from his bag. “I owe you a bottle of cold champagne.”

“Noooo.” Connor handed me the bottle. “Damn, the bottle’s all sweaty and everything. You went all the way downtown to get this?” I asked, astonished.

“I did. Why don’t you pop that cork?”

“I don’t know where we have the coffee cups or the plastic cups, I think Sonny moved the cups.” I started to panic.

Connor grabbed the bottle from my hands and set it on the table. “Tonight, we’re drinking straight from the bottle.”

“(Name), Hank told me what you did for me, and it’s honestly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. What can I say or do to possibly repay you for your kindness?” Connor wondered, as I picked up the bottle and tried to open it, feeling my emotions getting the best of me.

I looked at him. “How do you get this gold shit off?”

I hear him snicker at my attempts to get the stupid film off.

“(Name), Before I leave town; before the street changes and all the signs are changed around, let’s walk around the neighborhood and then we’ll say goodbye.” Connor said, as he turned to see me crying, with a pair of scissors gnawing at the top of the bottle. “(Name), are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m just trying to open this champagne! You see, the twisty thing is broken, but I’m going to open this DAMN BOTTLE!” I yell.

“Let me see, I’ll get it.” Connor responded, taking the wet bottle out of my hand.

“CONNOR JUST LEAVE THE FUCKING CHAMPAGNE!” I exclaim, feeling pissed and tired. I look at him only to see a heartbroken face. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day.” After a moment of silence, I mumble, “You should really stay…”

“What did you say?” Connor asked.

“I could really use you around this place.” I continue, ignoring him. “And Sonny could use a role model.”

“(Name), what is this all about?” Connor pleaded.

“I’m just saying that your vacation can wait.” I spat at him, tears threatening to escape my eyes.

“Vacation? (Name), this is an amazing job offer that I just can’t pass u-”

“YOU’RE LEAVING THE COUNTRY, AND WE’RE NEVER GOING TO SEE YOU AGAIN” I interrupted him.

“Of course you’ll see me again! I’ll be home for holidays, and I get summers off!” He tried to explain.

“You just waltz into everyone’s lives, THEN OFF YOU GO!?” I scream, wiping tears away.

“(Name), I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me.

“I WISH I WAS FUCKING MAD. THAT WOULD MAKE THIS SO GODDAMN EASIER!” I shout, trying to get to the door. With each step, Connor blocks me. As I go to push him out of the way, with one swift movement, Connor has me pinned to the closed door; kissing me passionately.

“(Name), I had no idea you felt this strongly.” Connor softly grabbed my chin, lifting my head up to meet him eye to eye.

“Of course I do! Connor. From the moment you came in with Hank, my life was changed forever. You are the reason this store is still open. You are the reason Sonny and I still live here. Connor, I love you.” I confessed, smiling.

“Oh (Name), You REALLY love me?” Connor fidgeted.

“Yes! I guess that doesn’t change anything. So... I should let you go.” I say, getting out of his grap.

“SURPRISE!!!!!!”

Out of nowhere, Hank, Benny, Sonny, and Pete jump out from behind us. I scream and jump into Connor, hugging up to him for dear life.

“So did you guys finally confess your love for each other?!” Benny asked.

“Did Connor tell you that the whole, “I’m leaving for Puerto Rico!” thing was just a plan for you to confess your love?! It’s pretty fucking funny, if you ask me.” Hank pondered, laughing. Looking up at me, his face drops. “Oh... He didn’t tell you yet..

“... You mean to tell me that this was all just a sick set up for you idiots to get Connor and I together?” I said, blood starting to boil.

“Mayyyyyybeeeee... Are you mad?” They all responded.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “ No. You guys are morons.” I turn to Connor. “So, you’re not leaving?”

He smiled at me. “Nope.” He laughed, popping the ‘p’.

I smirked. “Good. EVERYONE OUT. I was promised a date.” I bellowed, ushering everyone but Connor out and locking the door. “Now, let’s have some fun.”

#detroit become human #Connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #in the heights #fanfic #dbh connor x reader #reader insert #ethanwrites

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2018shawn · 5 years ago

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Ruin the Friendship

OMG to the anon that requested this I am SO sorry it took me this long and it’s probably not up to expectation I've just been struggling to write djbsndfa HOWEVER, this was my interpretation of the song and I hope you enjoy. I did intend for it to be more sexy but it turned out more goof so soz about tht OH and I also wrote this with a OC I dunno why it just happened but there u go

Warnings: suggestions of smut, swearing, MY WRITING, alcohol consumption etc etc

Remy’s phone balanced against a stack of books, just enough so that she was in view of the front facing camera, not really giving too much attention to how she looked. Her screen was dominated by a mop of brown curls and just, and I mean -��just - underneath them, she could make out the facial structure of her closest friend, neighbour and music mogul, known to the world as Shawn Mendes. To her, he was known as annoying neighbour that A) played guitar ridiculously late at night, especially in the room that backed onto her bedroom. B) never had milk and would knock at stupid o’clock in the morning to get some because he was fuelled by coffee and fancy tea’s and C) wasn’t there half the time, meaning she had 2 lots of post to check for every morning. He was in the midst of rambling and from what she could gather, he was throwing a party for absolutely no particular reason other than the weather was nice and doesn’t that make you wanna have a beer?

“No, Shawn. I don’t really drink beer, so I can’t say it does” She replied, rolling her eyes behind her quirky, but necessary, reading glasses as her fingers swiftly tapped away at her keyboard, trying to get down as many words as she could.

“Ok... vodka? gin?...” he started, and she gave me him a raised eyebrow kinda look as she finally turned her attention to him. “Tequilaaaaa?” He dragged out, putting on a face that the angels could have sculpted themselves.

“Jesus, no. Absolutely not.” The last time Shawn made her do a tequila shot, he demanded that she did it from his I want to run my tongue over stomach, to which she was absolutely mortified and knew that there was no chance in hell she could keep her cool, or stop her lips from going further south, if she was to lick or suck anywhere near that region. He finally let her settle for shotting it from the glass like a normal human being and that was the last she remembered of the night, “I’ll have water, I got a lot of work to do tomorrow”.

He plumped out his bottom lip at her response, but quickly raised a point. “So, that means you’re coming?” He was moving about in the screen, and she guessed he was just pacing around his apartment because he was the most restless person she’d ever met. She’d never known him to be home longer than 1 week at a time, so it was a rarity that he was currently on day 3 and quite possibly throwing a party out of boredom, not good will.

“Not necessarily... but, I might drop in” She replied, closing the lid down on her laptop with a sigh as her brain came to a halt with words, partly because of the Canadian boy the other side of her FaceTime call, “If I have to”.

He smiled and nodded, indicating that she did, in fact, have to. “You do! You’re always working, have a night off, Rems” She groaned at not only his nickname for her, but when she heard a knock at her door, assuming it would be her delivery. Pushing herself up from her sofa and slumping over to the door, she knew the angle on her screen wasn’t the prettiest, like when you accidentally open front camera and get the shock of your life, but he’d seen her in much worse states than this.

“I just... don’t know anyone” She said, swinging the door open, her eyes looking back at the screen to gauge Shawn’s reaction. To her dismay, just because of the pleasure of getting to see his face, he’d paused the FaceTime, assumingly scrolling away on other apps where faces were much more interesting that what she thought hers was.

“You know me” His voice snapped her out or her gaze, not just from her phone, but from the tall figure stood in her doorway. It wasn’t obscure that he was stood at her door, it was just obscure that he was on FaceTime at the same time. “What you gonna wear?”

He pushed past her, walking himself into the apartment which he knew all too well, not just because his was symmetrical, but because he’d been round here more times than he'd had hot dinners. It wasn’t all good reasoning - he’d turned up numerous times looking like he was on the verge of tears, which sometimes he burst into as soon as she shut the door behind him, he’d turned up fucked out of his face, because he couldn’t work his own key in the door and demanded he stay on her couch because his apartment felt lonely, hell, he’d even turned up heartbroken because the same damned girl kept screwing him over and he couldn't quite establish his self worth.

It killed her, for him not to see how incredibly special he was. She’d always had a small crush on him, sure. But Remy just learnt to deal with it because, sure, dating her was definitely not on the top of his to do list.

She was left stood, her hand still clasped around the door as he waltzed into her bedroom, muttering nothing in particular other than how she looked good in that red, flowery thing and she should definitely wear that. “Fucking dumbass” She muttered to herself, sighing as she finally closed the door, letting it shut with a loud click before following the - did I mention? - annoying neighbour that apparently would not take no for an answer.

“Turn off your FaceTime, I can hear you, fucking dumbass”

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

She sipped, through her straw, at was definitely not water and she knew she shouldn’t have trusted him when he asked what she wanted to drink. She convinced herself it would be rude not to drink it - and maybe a couple more, now she had the taste for it. Her friend, Lily, was the one that put the icing on the cake, turning up at her house - what was with people just randomly turning up? - all dolled up ready for the night. She knew her friend only wanted to go because Connor had more than likely been in touch, after several previous one night stands/‘meetings’ and Lily was not the kind of girl that passed up the opportunity to get laid - even though she had Connor wrapped around her little finger.

Lily had left her to go pee, but Remy knew she most definitely would get lost (in Connor’s lap) on the way back, which left her with no choice but to fend for herself. She’d seen Shawn on arrival, but knew he was making a round of doing the pleasantries and she couldn't be stuck to his hip all night, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be. As if he’d sensed her needs, her annoying neighbour came prancing over with the grin of a Cheshire Cat and, of course, a red cup contained in one hand.

He looked good - really fucking good - she thought to herself as she watched him, buttons undone one extra than the normal person, showing the chest hair he always claimed to be manly. His trousers were tight around his peachy rear, which is somewhere she’d always wanted to get her hands onto but, funnily enough, never found the right moment to do that as a friend and neighbour. Like hey, I brought your post up... by the way let me touch your butt or hey, I saw you’re back in town, can I come round... and touch your butt.

Sure he looked good, but his body; his body even looked good. It looked healthy. Happy. Refreshed. Which is something it often wasn’t and she would preach to him numerous times about how you only get one and you need to look after it. Turns out he may have actually listened to her for once and taken her advice.

Remy had thought numerous times about going there with Shawn - there being her underneath him, but she also knew he could get any girl he wanted with the click of his fingers, because that’s just the kind of guy he was. She, was unaware that he thought she’d never want him - he knew she loved home comforts and stability and someone to be there. He completely wasn’t the right guy to be able to offer that, and sure, bedding her had crossed his mind because he wasn’t completely oblivious to all the little gazes he’d caught her in as he walked around his - or her - apartment in nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein’s. But he couldn’t bare to do it to her - fuck her and leave - no matter how many times she bit her perfectly plump lip when he was chatting away to her about the dumb TV show they’d started watching.

“How’s your water?” He smirked, his eyes looking a little drunk as he mirrored her posture, leaning back against the kitchen counter with arms crossed, only he stood much taller. He turned to face her, eyes clicking with hers and giving her the same puppy dog eyes he always did.

“Great, actually, thank you” she smiled, being the one to break the eye contact before taking another large sip of her drink. His view didn’t alter as he kept eyes on her, beyond her knowledge, to take in every inch of what he thought to be perfect features. Shawn had travelled all around the world, but never met anyone that quite compared to Remy. He had never met anyone who was so determined to succeed, even through having as many set backs as her. He had never met anyone who could give so much love, despite being the one needing love herself. And what he thought about the most, was that he’d never met anyone who had a body like hers - one that could make him feel like jelly. “They’re really into each other aren’t they?”

She interrupted his train of admiring thoughts, making him stutter and blush when she turned back to face him, catching him staring at her plump lips. She nodded her head towards Lily and Connor, who were talking to other people but might as well have been auditioning for a role in love actually, because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. “Yeah, I actually didn’t know it was possible for him to have feelings” he laughed and she nodded, rolling her eyes and capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth. He lulled at the material of his unbuttoned shirt in an attempt to get some ventilation. He felt hot, and it wasn’t the alcohol.

“Well, I stupidly offered her a place to crash so I guess that means he’ll be joining too” She took the straw that was swivelling around in her drink, frustrated as she tried to catch it in her mouth every time she wanted a sip, and threw it behind her onto the counter. With one large gulp, the rest of her drink was gone and they both knew she was starting to get the confidence she so dearly deserved.

“I have a spare bed, if you know...” he started, not entirely sure where he was going with the whole invitation, “get bored of the noise”

ouch. friend zoned. She thought to herself, although grateful for the offer.

“I’m gonna whoop your ass at twister,” was the only thing she could reply, swiftly changing subject and nudging her head towards the surprisingly - so far - relatively PG game of twister happening in his lounge.

ouch. rejected. He though to himself, although slightly embarrassed at his childlike offer.

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

Remy balanced on the balcony railing, her hair pushed to one side of her neck, exposing her shoulder and collar bone, just a measly spaghetti strap covering any skin there. She came outside for one of two reason. One being the fact she felt herself getting drunk, which is something she intended not to do. Two being that Shawn looked more hot the drunker she got and that was not the kind of things that she wanted filling her mind whilst she had the new found tipsy confidence.

“Hey, there you are” Shawn slid the balcony door closed behind him, placing his beer bottle on the little table, surrounded by two chairs, that covered almost half of the tiny balcony. “I thought you’d back door boogied.”

She snorted out a laugh, shaking her head at his ridiculous methodology. “No, but that would be the way to go, because you’d no doubt nag me to stay, if I told you I was leaving.”

He leant his back against the railing, turning his head to the right to get full view of her, as she admired the busy Toronto city. “Can you blame me?” She pursed her lips, trying to keep her eyes on the bright city lights. “What would I have to do, out of interest?”

She finally turned to look at him, his signature smile covering his features and that was more than enough to ever make her stay. “Hmm... maybe play me my favourite song.” He simply nodded, taking mental note.

They stayed silent for a few minutes, nothing but the sound of busy streets and the music inside filing the void. They awkwardly clicked eye contact a couple of times, her cheeks blushing a deep shade of red each time which he found incredibly cute, but also somehow sexy. “You should get back, it’s your party you loser.”

“I like your company,” he smiled genuinely, playfully nudging her shoulder with his own. He wanted nothing more, in this moment, than to grab her, hold her close and admire the beauty of the city with her. Admire her beauty.

She shoved her empty red cup in his hand, suddenly feeling thirsty, although she was sure it wasn’t the type of thirst that could be satisfied with another drink. But, another drink would have to make do. “Go fill up my dink, and I shall grace you with my presence shortly.”

He wasn’t sure where the assertiveness came from, but he thought it almost turned him on. “One Tequlia, coming right up”

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

The dull party music was nothing but a background noise now everyone had vacated, leaving Remy, Shawn, Lily and Connor as the last men standing. Shawn couldn’t help but jibe at Remy for being one of the final few, making it through the entire party and finishing with a rare buzz from the alcohol. “Me and Con are gonna get going, if that’s okay?” Lily spoke, filling the last space in the dishwasher with any glass she could.

“Sure, thanks for your help, guys” Shawn said, balancing a stack of red plastic cups in his right hand that slightly resembled the leaning tower of Pisa, shaking Connor’s hand with his left.

“Okay well, here’s my key, I'll help Shawn finish up and I'll be back” Remy confirmed, walking over to her bag and retrieving her key from inside, handing it over to the eager blonde. She began speaking in a much quieter tone, even though Shawn and Connor were engaging in their own conversation and would absolutely have no interest in there's, “I might stay in Shawn’s spare room, give you guys... space” you laughed. Lily was more than thankful to have a best friend like you.

“Girl, stay in his damn bed” She replied, earning a roll of the eyes from Remy at the typical Lily answer.

“I wouldn’t mind if she did” Shawn spoke, Remy suddenly freezing and heart beating faster than she ever knew it could. The remark was pushed aside as everyone bid their final farewells, leaving Shawn and Remy alone in his apartment with nothing but a huge mess and Spotify playlist playing in the background. “You look really pretty tonight”, he added, as she finished rounding up the last few beer bottles and throwing them in his bottle bin.

“I... uh... thanks. You too” She smiled, almost instantly mentally slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. Pretty? You look pretty too? She thought to herself. “I mean, you look good. Not pretty, but good”

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” He gasped, his hand pressing against his chest as he acted shocked. He leant his back against the wall, his legs straining against the fabric of his jeans, with one leg bent and supported against the structure. She couldn’t help but think about climbing on top of his thick limbs, straddling him and pinning him down. She replied a small oh har-har and he stood up, walking over to her, despite her pretending to be busy with the same bottles she’d been moving around for the past 5 minutes. “Because I think you're very, very pretty. Beautiful, actually” She felt his breath against the back of her hair, just above her ear as she remained facing the countertop. She was sure that she’d never felt a flush of heat like the one she was experiencing. His long arms captured her in his personal space, the scent of her sweet perfume filling the little space between them.

Shawn noticed how she’d stopped moving and he wasn't sure if he was pushing the boundaries too much. He would, of course, stop if she was to show him any signs of feeling uncomfortable, but the way her body finally relaxed against his told him the opposite. His fingers nervously danced over her waist, and he failed to notice the trail of goose pimples that covered her bare arms. It felt like a lifetime, waiting for her to react or say something.

Both their hearts, unbeknown to each other, were almost beating out of their chests. “Shawn...” Was all she could mumble, managing somehow to turn around, in the tiny amount of space she had, to face him. Well, to face his chest. His hands remained on her waist, his mind subconsciously telling him to hold on because she could try and run at any given moment. She looked up at him, through fluttering lashes, trying to work out what he was thinking, but failing miserably.

“Do you want me to move away?” He asked, noticing how their bodies were closer than they ever had been. Truth be told, she didn’t know, but something in her possessed her to shake her head, much to Shawn’s relief. So he sighed happily, reaching up his hand and brushing some stray hairs away from her face, his hand lingering there once he’d done. She reached up and covered his larger hand with hers, looking into his eyes with what he could only describe as love. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, giving him the signal he’d been waiting for.

Dipping his neck down, their lips collided with messy passion as his hand grasped the back of her neck, her hand finally parting from his to tug at the material of his shirt. She groaned at his neediness, moving into him, her chest pressing against his front. Neither of them thought about coming up for air, only needing each other to survive in this very moment.

Remy was the first one to detach, her cheeks covering deep red blush, yet again. “We... shouldn't.” She stated, her hands still balling up the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but fuck, Rems.” He breathed heavily, stroking his thumb over her flushed cheeks. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to.” It shocked her that he sounded like he meant it, because there wasn’t many men out there who were as honest as he. All she could find herself doing was taking in whatever words he spoke, her mind on over drive and then some. “And not like, just tonight. I’ve wanted you every day, in every city, every album, every single. And what’s more ironic is that your favourite song you said you’d like me to play for you... is about you and...”

She stopped him with another kiss, her tip toes aiding her in reaching up to his taller height. She knew the confidence had come from the uncountable amount of vodka-lemonades she’d practically inhaled, but her actions were sincere. Shawn approved of both the confidence and the actions. She spoke into his mouth as they loved on each other, “This... could...” He flicked his tongue against hers, her words being replaced with a string of moans. His hands pulled at the hair on the back of her head, pulling her neck upwards as their lips disconnected, giving him more access to the skin on her neck. His lips trailed wet kisses down, nipping at the delicate skin. “Ruin our friendship,” she finally finished and although her words were spoken genuine concern, the only thing she was physically concerned about was getting enough of a handful of his hair to toy with.

Her breathing was deep as Shawn pulled away, face still hovering close to hers. “I mean it though, Remy. I’m all in, if you are” She knew it was a big risk, ruining her friendship; her anxiety wouldn’t let her stay living next to Shawn if anything was to go wrong, meaning she’d have to go through the pain of packing up and moving apartments, to another country, in another world, because, being without Shawn was what it felt like to be alone.

If the friendship was ruined, it was already ruined because normal friends don’t casually do this in their kitchens. If she had chance to feel his love, she deserved to, as did he. Her mind raced with thoughts of these, a small laugh escaping her lips at how she’d found herself in this completely ridiculous situation, as she spoke words she never thought she'd be saying to the pretty Canadian boy staring into her soul, “Pick me the fuck up.”

#Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn mendes smut

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brashierc · 5 years ago

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Baby Brash

July 13th, his 20th birthday. That night was the reason why you were here today. If that night wouldn’t have happened you wouldn’t have peed on a stick this morning, it wouldn’t have been positive and you wouldn’t be sitting on the bed at your OBGYN’s clinic awaiting for her results.

You’ve been best friends with Connor since you both were 7. That was 13 years of friendship. 13 years of listening to him go on about photography, 13 years of supporting him and his dreams no one else really supported when he first got started in high school.

It was also 13 years of being asked how long you two had been in a relationship.

Girls and boys can be best friends without falling in love. Or well, that’s what you always said to everyone when they asked. You’d been in love with Connor since you were 17, but you knew he’d never feel the same, so you kept that feeling pushed way back into your brain.

Connor was there for you through every boyfriend, just like you were for his girlfriends. The heartbreak and the first time discussions after the fact.

“Alright,” The Doctor walks in after tapping on the wooden door with her knuckle twice. “So your positive was correct, you are pregnant.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Really?”

“Yep, really really pregnant.” She smiles, handing you a few brochures. “Let’s go over your options.”

You look up with wide eyes, horror running through your veins and emotions.

“Let’s not, thanks Doc, but I’m already attached to this kid, and if you knew the Dad you would be too.”

She smiles, nodding but telling you to take the brochures just in case.

She refers you to one of her colleagues who’s an Obstetrician with her practice and can take you through your pregnancy and birth.

You take the information she gave you and leave with a small smile and a polite wave goodbye to her front office receptionist. Once you’re back in your car you let the new totally settle in.

You were having a baby, with Connor, at age 19 and 20. Super cool.

On Connor’s birthday everything went a little crazy. Shawn threw a rager, wanting to celebrate his newest addition to his team, and his friend who was turning the big 2 0. He flew you out to where they were so you could be there to celebrate and surprise Connor.

Everyone went a little crazy, everyone.

Brian was so blacked out that he took Alessia back to his room with him, forgot that he invited her in, and called Shawn from the bathroom freaking out that she’d followed him home. (Even though we were all in the same hotel)

Shawn was the only one that didn’t go hard. Knowing he had shows and other obligations like filming music videos and meeting up with Chance the Rapper. He supervised, and not well, but had a blast watching everyone be stupid and make fools of themselves.

Connor was a clingy needy drunk, so throughout the night he just became more and more glued to your side. He hadn’t seen you in months, and missed you so much. It all started when he wanted to dance to the slow songs with you, hands on your hips, holding you close. You fell into his embrace, missing being held in such a way, and feeling so safe with Connor. He planted a few kisses to your neck, and one just behind your ear learning very quickly that that was your weak spot.

After you let out a shaky moan of his name, tucking your fingers into his hair, you were a goner. You both quickly found your way back to his room, falling on the bed nakedly exploring the other between the sheets.

By morning? You both swore to never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened, and move on. Everything was normal, it literally was like nothing happened. He still picked on you, you still gave him shit in front of the guys, but you both were still there for the other in ways no one else could be.

You clicked on his contact; ‘Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash”

Brian really changed Connor’s name in your phone to the best thing you’d ever seen, you wouldn’t dare change it.

“Whattup?” He answered on the third ring, and suddenly, you’re emotional.

“Hey,” You choke out, looking around trying to distract your brain.

“What’s wrong?” His side of the phone shuffles, and becomes marginally quieter.

“Nothing,” You whisper, “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to you, tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing Con.”

“You’re upset though, I can hear it.”

“When do you come home again?”

“I come home next week, I have to meet my counselor and then register for classes. I get into town on Monday, and I leave Friday.”

You nod, knowing full well he can’t see you. “Can we meet on Monday?”

You need to tell him, and you won’t keep this a secret from him longer than you have too.

“Um yeah, I fly in at like 8, wanna meet for coffee and breakfast or something?”

“Yeah perfect.”

“Okay…..? Ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” He asks.

You sigh, “I should let you go, you’re probably busy.”

“No, hey,” He protests. “I wanna talk, I miss you.”

You smile, insides running warm when you hear his voice say those words. “I miss you too Baby Brash.”

You can hear him sigh and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “So you watched the newest video?”

“Of course I did, got your post notifications on.”

“No you don’t.”

“No you’re right, I don’t, I have Shawn’s on.”

At this he laughs, like a snort and everything and it makes you feel good, to be able to get him to laugh like that again, to hear that laugh.

“Brashier, we gotta go!” Brian yells at him in the background.

“You’re literally standing behind me, why you gotta yell?”

“Because I felt like pissing you off.” Brian snickers. “Who you on the phone with? Gots a girlyfriend?” Something must happen on Connor’s side of the phone because suddenly all you can hear is boys yelling.

“Connor that’s the fourth girl you’ve been on the phone with today!”

“There is no hot sex going on over here!”

“PASS THE WEED MAN!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Connor’s voice is back, “Jesus it’s just Y/n, could you…?”

“But we wanna say hi!” Shawn and Brian whine.

You giggle and blush a little at the attention.

Connor shuffles the phone, and then you can barely hear him, he’s really muffled but you make it out. “She’s upset about something, so could you fucking leave for a minute. I was getting her to talk and then you fuckers walked in.” A few seconds later and he’s back crystal clear. “Okay they left, you still there Honey?”

“You didn’t need to kick them out.”

“But I wanna talk to you.”

“They just wanted to say hi.”

“But you’re my best friend.” He whines, “They’d steal all your attention.”

“You need to go, I’ll see you next week okay?”

“Okay, love you kid.” He says softly.

“Love you too Brash.”

He walks in, looking all nerdy cute, face down into his phone.

iMessage from Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash: Im here where u is

“If you ever looked up from your phone you’d know I’m here too Bitch.” You say from your table, laughing when he jumps and looks over at you.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs, smiling really wide when you stand and give him a big hug. “Fuck I missed you Kid.” He sighs into your neck, letting your scent relax his stressed out mind.

“Missed you too.”

He takes the seat across from you, thanking you for the coffee you already had ordered and sat in front of his seat on the table. He takes a sip as you take a deep breath and shut your eyes to give yourself that last push of encouragement.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt.

It’s then that you realize your eyes are still closed, opening them one at a time to see his reaction. It’s comical almost, the sight of him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging, body frozen.

You give it a moment, a second to really settle into his brain, you needed to do the same when you found out. Hell, you’re still doing that.

He clears his throat, shakes his head a bit, but his eyes continue to flare out at you.

“Excuse me?” He croaks.

“I’m pregnant,” You nod, watching him nod with you. “And it’s yours.”

He hums, and continues to stare at you. You take a sip of your decaf coffee, wincing at the weird taste.

“Fuck man, I don’t know if I can handle 9 months of decaf, that shit is gross as hell.”

This seems to snap Connor out of whatever daze he was in.

“You’re being real right now?” He looks around, “Is Brian here filming me? Is this a prank or something? You got me, you got my reaction, turn it off now.”

You sigh, worried he would think something like that. You just sit there, staring at him.

“You’re being real?!?” He says with persistence in his voice, leaning closer to you.

“That night we swore to never speak of again? Well, we’ll be talking for at least the next 18 years.” You shrug.

He’s still in shock, just staring at you with a glazed over glance. You just nod and smile a little at him, trying to coax him through his shock.

“I-” He gapes, “Um, we...I...condom!”

You giggle, shaking your head at him while rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna do? Blurt ‘condom’ out like it’ll fix everything?”

“But I used one!” He’s becoming defensive. Snapping at you in ways he’s done in the past when he’s stressed to the brim and can’t control his emotions. You can count the amount of times snapped at you on one hand.

“They’re only 98% effective, if that, Connor. Or maybe it broke or something. It happened, and I’m pregnant.”

“No! We can’t, a baby?”

You take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself that he’s just in shock and that he’s gonna be happy about this, someday. He doesn’t mean the way he’s reacting right now.

“How are you calm right now?” He asks in shrill.

“I don’t know Connor, life happens. It’s not perfect but we’ll figure it out.” You shrug, raising your voice a little to match his level.

“Fucking shit,” He tugs at his hair, face grimancing as he groans.

You sigh, grabbing your purse, collecting your phone and coffee and stand to leave. His head whips up when you stand, and he watches as you straighten out your shorts before starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go.” He pleads.

“Talk to me when this settles Connor. I can’t be here to watch you freak out. My hormones are all sorts of fucked up right now and I’m trying to stay positive about this whole thing but your reaction isn’t helping.”

He gets up and follows you out of the coffee shop, racing to meet you at your car before you can leave.

“Wait, talk to me, please.” He blocks your door so you can’t close it.

You look up, tears in your eyes that tear his heart apart. “We really did turn into Ross and Rachel huh? Just like everyone said throughout high school. Except we won’t end up together, we’ll always be the Ross and Rachel before they got together.”

He shakes his head, “I’m your lobster.”

Connor sits on your couch three days later. This was the first chance he’d been able to actually come over, any other conversations have been over the phone or text message since your meeting at the coffee shop.

It’s kind of awkward, the both of you sitting in silence as you try to not bring up the elephant in the room.

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, wincing as you lean forward and start this conversation. “I’m sorry that I up and left you on Monday. That wasn’t cool. I dropped a big ass bomb on you, something we would have never expected in a million years, and then just got up and left you alone. My hormones are whacked out right now but that’s not an excuse. So I’m sorry for being a shitty friend and making you go through that shock alone.”

“Hey,” He shakes his head, turning towards you on the couch, scooting closer. “Don’t be sorry. I was kind of being a jackass. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”

You sigh, smiling up at him. “I missed you, a lot.”

His hand falls on top of yours, fingers intertwining. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He sighs, letting his eyes rake over you for a moment, imagining what you’ll look like with a baby bump. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for tour?”

“Just go, I’m not due until May. You’ll be back in December, that’s plenty of time.”

“You’re pregnant, I want to be here for appointments, picking out and setting up the crib, cravings, all of it!”

You smile, reaching over and caressing his cheek. “Then talk to Shawn, sit down with Cez, explain it to Brian because he’ll lose his shit if you leave him without a solid reason behind it. We’ll figure it out, and make do.” You shrug.

He nods, leaning into your hand a little. “You always make everything better.”

“That’s because I know you Connor David,” You tap his cheek twice, “I know how to handle you.”

He grins, rolling his eyes before flopping back into the corner of your couch he’s claimed as his. “Have you told your mom yet?” He asks, throwing your fluffy white and black throw blanket over his lap.

“No,” You sigh, kicking your feet up and relax across from him on your sectional. He smirks as you take a breath, reaching over and grabbing your feet to give you a foot massage. “What are you doing?”

“Gotta get used to pampering you, might as well get a head start.” He murmurs. “Are you scared to tell your mom?”

“I mean not really. It’s not the ideal situation I was hoping for when I thought about having kids. But like, I can’t complain. I’m honored to have your kid Con, I think I got lucky when it comes to the baby daddy part of this.”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with a blush on his cheeks.

“I guess you could say I got pretty lucky with the baby mama part.” He mutters, watching you from under his lashes, grinning when you roll your eyes and throw your head back to hide the apparent blush forming across your cheeks.

Your guest bedroom that once used to be your small library and office area has now been bombarded with camera gear, a full sized bed covered in basic grey sheets and a black comforter.

Connor spoke with Shawn and Cez the first chance he had when he got back to tour. He explained the situation, as awkward and unexpected it is, and expressed his need to be home more for you and his unborn child.

Both were very understanding to him and his needs, granting him a week off a month ensuring that he’d still be able to get enough footage but also time at home. It also gave Shawn and the crew a moment of peace and not having to worry about cameras so much, not that Connor is like the crazy paps.

But now that Connor will be home once a month it made sense that he move into your spare room instead of having to stay with his parents or pay for a place he really wouldn’t see all that often. It was the perfect set up, to be there and help you when you need it.

You two were still adjusting to living together, or with another human (of the different sex).

You walked into the apartment from class, stopping short when the first thing you saw in your kitchen was Connor, in only his black Calvins.

“Bro,” You shield your eyes setting your backpack on your bar stool, “Can you wear pants?”

Connor looks over at the sound of your voice, a slice of cheese between his fingers, munching on a bite. He looks down, and then back up to you holding a hand over your eyes.

“I’m in boxers, I’m not naked.”

“No one wants to see your dick though,” You shake your head, grinning as you say, “Been there, done that.”

He chuckles, leaning closer to you and peeling your hands away from your eyes so you can see his smug smile. “You weren’t complaining then.”

Your jaw drops and you blush as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Well,” You stutter, “I mean,” He smiles, getting the best reaction out of you. “Shut up, go put clothes on!” You smack his arm shooing him to his room.

You both were getting really good and creative with ways to hiding your pregnancy. The only people who knew were the team, and family. Not even friends from your high school knew.

The issue with hiding this was the fact that Connor was gaining a lot of attention from Shawn’s fans. You didn’t blame them, no matter what brought them to become a fan of his, it at least brought more attention to his work and was getting him that much more popular. This just meant that you had to take hiding your pregnancy to a whole new level.

For a while you were able to just wear some big sweatshirts to cover the smallest bump you had. When sweatshirts weren’t able to work so much you then resorted to really flowy shirts and a big purse you could always swing in front of your belly.

There was even one time that Connor and the whole crew were in town. They had invited you to lunch since no one had seen you since Connor told everyone. But at the end of lunch the manager came to tell the group that the paparazzi had followed Shawn and his own lunch date.

You were panicked while everyone just rolled their eyes and grumbled about how someone had probably called them so pictures of Shawn and his date could be taken. You looked to Connor and gulped as he laughed with Brian about a meme he was showing him.

“Y/n, you okay?” Shawn asked from across the table.

He was always so kind, and it boggled your mind how he could always see everyone, even when there were thousands in front of him, he could see everyone and notice every mood change.

Connor looked over after Shawn’s question and noticed your worried expression.

“Um, I’m,” You looked down at your shirt that very clearly showed off your small baby bump. “We haven’t told-”

“Oh shit,” Connor mumbled now noticing what you were referring too. “Fuck they’re gonna get pictures of us.” He looked to Shawn.

“I totally forgot,” Shawn rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry you guys.”

“Do you have anything to like hide behind?” Brian asked.

“No, I didn’t bring a jacket because it’s so nice out.” You shake your head.

“Actually,” Connor cringes, looking at Josiah. “Do you still have your pocket reflector?”

Josiah nods, handing it to Connor.

“We’ll head out first, and then you guys go with Brian and maybe they’ll won’t pay you much attention. We’ll take a walk down the block or something.” Shawn stands, giving you an apologetic smile before walking out with his date.

You look to Connor and Brian as Connor is unfolding the reflector that creates a decent sized circle. You just laugh out loud when he offers it to you.

“What?” He asks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You laugh taking it from him. “It definitely doesn’t look like I’m hiding anything.” You’re sarcastic tone makes the boys chuckle.

“Here,” Brian hands Connor an old disposable camera. “Pretend like you’re taking my picture as we walk to the car so it looks like she’s actually using it.”

You just laugh harder and so do the boys at this elaborate plan to cover your pregnant belly.

At 5 months your little one is now starting to move. You’re really uncomfortable at the moment, in the stages of dealing with pregnancy and the symptoms.

Tonight is no different, if anything, it’s worse. Baby Brash (literally) has the hiccups and it’s causing your belly to move every 30 seconds or so. So sleeping at the moment isn’t a reality. Finding a comfortable spot to fall asleep isn’t a reality either.

iMessage from Papa 👶: Stop moving, I can hear your bed springs, lord help our child when you get laid.

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s message. He changed his name in your phone when he finally saw what you had him under. He even changed your name in his phone to ‘Mama 👶’ with the baby emoji.

iMessage to Papa👶 : Tell your child to stop moving so much then

You watched as he read the message, but frowned a little when he didn’t start responding. You jumped when your bedroom door creaked open, revealing Connor in a worn white t shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“Hey you,” He crawls into your bed, shuffling under your covers with you. “Hey Kid,” He smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss to your belly. “Stop moving in there so Mama can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up because you’re keeping her up.”

You roll your eyes again, glaring at him. “Really?”

“You told me to tell the kid.” He shrugs.

His hands have found their way to your belly, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of calming his baby down and lulling you to sleep.

You sigh and let your eyes flutter close.

“What hurts tonight?” He whispers.

“My hips and back.”

“Roll to your side for me.”

You do as told, and moan a little when he starts massaging at your tender hips. Your lower back is so tired and your hips are sore.

He keeps rubbing and tracing designs on your skin until your breathing evens out. He rolls away a little to go back to his room before your rolling towards him, and resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whine.

His whole life flashed before his eyes when he got the call. His whole life.

That’s the only words running through his mind.

His whole life.

“What did she say?” Brian as he drove to the airport.

“She said that she was being transported to the hospital and because she’s pregnant they wanted to take her in for more testing just to double check that everything was okay.”

“And what happened again?”

“She was driving home from work, her light went green and she proceeded through the intersection when some dipshit in a fucking truck ran the red and hit the back of her car, sounds like it’s totaled but luckily he just hit her trunk, so she wasn’t hurt to much.”

“She’s okay though right?” Brian asked again.

“As far as I know, but I’ll keep you updated. Just tell everyone else for me okay?”

“Of course man. Just go take care of her and that Baby.”

Connor takes a shaky breath as he looks out the window.

“Connor,” Brian said, surprising him by using his full name. “You need to breathe.”

“My whole life was in that car Brian, my whole life was sitting in the driver's seat of that car, and-”

“You need to breathe Connor.”

“I’m trying!” He snaps at Brian, “But I’m freaking out! My girl and our baby were in an accident today and I’m not there with them! So please forgive me if I’m a little scared and panicked.”

“I know you are, you just gotta stay calm. Positive thoughts lead to positive outcomes.”

“You really need to stop doing that weird fucking yoga thing with Shawn. It’s changing you man.” Connor jokes, trying to lighten his own mood.

By the time Connor’s landed you’re already home and resting. He bursts into the apartment like a bat out of hell, slamming the door and flipping the lock before throwing his bag to the ground and racing to your room.

“Jesus, be a little louder why don’t you.” You comment when he falls into your room.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is our Bean okay?” He throws himself onto your bed, hands instantly searching for your ever growing bump.

“We’re okay.” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I told you we were fine and that you didn’t need to come home.”

“Right,” He scoffs. “Like I was just gonna stay miles away from you after you’ve been in an accident.”

“But we’re okay! You’re parents, my parents, our siblings, everyone was there with me. Really we’re okay.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, laying down with his head beside your big belly, rubbing and tapping at it, smiling when he feels a few kicks. “My Bean is kicking?” He looks up at you.

“Yeah, has been for a week or so.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well,” You frown, looking away. “To be honest I planned on pretending that the first time Bean kicked when you were home next was the first time so you didn’t feel like you were missing out on anything.”

Connor smiles at you, shaking his head and leaning up to plant a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for planning to lie to me.”

You giggle, before shifting to sit up more. You reach for the papers on your bedside table and hand them to Connor.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down. His face falls, frown dropping his lips eyes looking up at you. “What is this? Why are you handing me this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.” You shrug.

“Not right now.”

“Connor this is serious, it’s not just us anymore. We’re having a kid, we need to have a Will drawn up.”

“I understand that, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Connor, in the event that something happens to one of us, we need to know what the other wants.”

“Stop, stop, stop talkin’ like that!”

“Connor,”

“Please,” He tugs at his hair, “Please not right now. I understand we need to know, I get that and we’ll have it drawn up but I don’t want to talk about it right now. All my nightmares came true today.” He looks at you with sad eyes. “I haven’t told you this, but lately I’ve been having a few nightmares that something happens to you and our Bean, and I’m not there to help you or protect you.” He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. “And that happened to me today. You both were in an accident, and I wasn’t here.”

“Connor,” You say again.

“I get it!” He snaps. “But I don’t like the thought of losing you okay? I’m fucking in love with you, and I don’t really have you, but I thought I lost you when I got that call. So can we stop talking like this for the day? Please? Please can you give my heart a moment?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, your heart rate picking up at his words.

“You’re what?” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“Huh?”

“You’re in love with me?”

His eyes go wide in panic now that he’s realized what he’s said.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“Why haven’t you said anything!” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know, you never-”

“I’ve been in love with you since Junior year!” You keep slapping his arm.

“Stop hitting me!” He grabs your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“You never said anything!” “Neither did you!” He responds.

Things were different now, you still hadn’t really said officially what you two were now, but it was this weird in between stage of best friend and boyfriend.

He would kiss you sometimes, and always hold your hand, he’d even let a few pet names slip, but when asked by others he still referred to you as his best friend.

It confused you to no end, because now that something changed he’s moved into your room, claiming that he would just sneak in every night anyway, and now you had room for a nursery.

“Babe?” He called from the nursery, seated criss cross on the ground, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for your response. “BABE?”

“What?” You call back, walking down the hall to the laundry room.

“Can you bring me a water?”

“Really? You can’t get it yourself?”

“I’m building the crib!”

“I’m doing your laundry!” You yell back, leaning against the dryer, rolling your eyes at his request.

“Please?” He asks softly. When you don’t respond he resorts to baby talk he knows you can’t resist. “Pweety Pwease? I’ll give you kisses.”

You groan, waddling down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing him a cucumber mint flow from the fridge, and grabbing yourself a watermelon lime one. You make your way to the nursery, throwing him the water before taking a seat in the new rocking chair Shawn bought you guys.

“How you doing there Pretty Mama?” He smiles looking over at you.

“I’m tired, and big.” You whine, looking down at your very pregnant belly.

“I think you look really pretty.” He blushes, looking back at the crib.

“You owe me kisses.” You pout.

“Do I?” He looks at you, “What if I was crossing my fingers?”

You gasp, furrowing your brows and crossing your arms across your chest. “That’s so mean. You’re pregnant best friend just waddled her way to the kitchen and back to bring you your precious water and you won’t give her kisses like you promised?”

He’s up on his knees crawling towards you. “Girlfriend.” He hums setting his hands on your thighs so he can lean closer.

“What?”

“You mean my pregnant girlfriend.” He corrects you.

“Do I?” You asked softly, biting your lip as you stare into those blue eyes.

“I sure hope so.” He whispers.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?”

He pulls back a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought-”

“Yeah me too but then you told the guy at the baby shop that I was your best friend.”

He sighs, hanging his head. “It’s so natural, or I don’t know, programmed in my head to introduce you that way. But I thought we turned into something more when we confessed.”

“Me too, but when you did that it through me off.”

“Babe,” He smiles, rubbing his hands up your legs, “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we kiss, we love, we laugh, we fight, we’re pregnant.” He let’s his right hand wander to your belly. “I consider you my girlfriend. I hope you consider me your boyfriend.”

“I do.”

“So then why are you pouting?”

“Because I really want kisses.”

“Oh my goodness.” He laughs, leaning forward to cover your lips with his own. He kisses you deeply, pecking your lips three more times before pulling away. “Better?”

“For now.”

“Okay.” He laughs, shaking his head before going back to building the crib.

“Boyfriend?” You yell from the bedroom when you hear the door open.

“It’s Boyfriend and his friends!” Connor yells back. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

You quickly finish tying the bow to his gift before making your way to the living room where Shawn and Brian are seated on the couch.

“Hey!” Shawn jumps up, giving you a hug before looking down to your belly. “Can I touch your belly?”

You laugh a little, “Yeah go ahead, thank you for asking.”

“Of course, it would be a little rude to just go ahead.” He says touching your belly.

“Can you tell that to the rest of the world?”

“Hey Bean!” Shawn says to your belly. “Uncle Shawn got you the coolest thing ever!” He says before running to the couch to show you a small guitar case.

“Shawn you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help myself, I was looking for a new one and saw this little thing.” He pops the case open. “I’ll teach Bean how to play and everything!”

“There you are!” Connor smiles when he enters holding three beers and your favorite flow flavor. He walks up to you, planting a wet smooch to your lips before handing the boys their drinks.

“I have something for you.” You grin, holding up the little gift wrapped box.

“Oh yeah?” He takes it from you.

He unties the bow, rips the paper, and opens the box to reveal a small blue Polaroid camera.

“This is so cute,” He says holding it in his hand.

Shawn gasps and Brian stands up in excitement.

“Where’d you get this honey?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You wave him off, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “What color is it?”

“Blue?” He asks, looking up at you, and then over to the excited boys next to him that are punching the other in the arm.

“And blue is for what?” You pull it out of him.

“Blue is for….” He stares at you, “Blue is for boy.” His eyes light up. “Blue is for boy?”

“Blue is for boy!” You squeal.

“Oh my god! Blue is for boy!” He wraps you up in his arms, kissing your neck. “It’s a boy, we’re having a boy!”

“ITS A BOY!” Shawn and Brian cheer.

You groan in pain as you feel another contraction hit. You’ve been in labor for three hours now and your little boy does not want to come see the world.

Connor tries not to wince or complain about his hand he’s sure you’ve severely bruised. He breathes with you through the pain, running a soothing hand over your head and taking your matted hair back away from your forehead.

“There you go Baby.” He whispers, “You’re doing so good.”

“I love you Connor David,” You smile at him, “But I want to fucking kick you in the balls right now.”

He winces at the thought and shakes his head. “I’m sorry Baby,” He looks away. “I wish I could take your pain away, I wish it were me.”

“Me too.” You relax when the contraction stops.

“Still holding your hand?” The nurse smiles when she walks in to check on you. “You’re better than most Dad’s, they usually wimp out by now from the pain.”

“He never lets go, no matter what.” You smile up at Connor.

“You’re my lobster Baby,” He leans down to kiss your lips.

written by: @shawnm521

614 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 6 years ago

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 19 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Prepare your feels, guys. I apologize in advance because it gets a bit dark. TW: mention of abuse, alcohol abuse, death

“So, like…how old were you when you learned how to skate?” Bee asked nervously as her leg was tucked between Morgan’s thighs.

“Three,” he said, concentrating more on tightening and fastening the skate on her foot; he wanted to make sure it wasn’t too tight so her feet had enough room to breathe, but so tight as to suffocate them. It was a delicate balance.

“So you’ve had a little bit of practice then,” she said, making a bad joke. Morgan looked up at her, a smirk on his face. “Sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Bumblebee,” he said, tightening the laces one last time. “It’s not like I’m gonna throw you out there and let you fend for yourself.”

“I know,” she nodded her head, looking out at the rink in Hollyburn Country Club and all the people skating on it already. “I’m just nervous about making a complete ass of myself.”

“Impossible.”

“How so?”

“Cause you’ve got a great teacher,” he winked, grabbing her other leg and putting it between his thighs. “How does the first skate feel?”

“Good.”

“Yoohoo! Over here!” they both heard Shirley’s voice call from beside them. She had her phone in her hand, pointed towards them. “Smile for the camera!” They did as they were told, and she snapped a cute picture, giving them thumbs up before walking back towards Andy, who was waiting for her at the entrance to the ice.

From behind Morgan, Connor knocked on the glass, and Bee could hear him yell “Hurry up!” through the glass before skating away. She giggled as she watched Morgan tie up the skate and set her foot down. “How does that one feel?”

“Good. You promise not to let go?” she asked as she stood up.

“Just like swimming,” he nodded his head, getting onto the ice before her. “Bend your knees a little bit, okay? You can’t start with stiff knees.”

Bee held on to Morgan’s hands as she stepped out onto the ice, slipping almost automatically, unable to keep her balance. Morgan’s strong arms pulled her back up as she yelped in fear. “Heeeeyyy hey hey hey, calm down, calm down. Take it slow. You can’t be Connor McDavid right away.”

“Who’s Connor McDavid?”

“Forget it,” he laughed. “Just stand, okay? Forget trying to make strides. Just stand and get used to the feeling of the blades under your feet.”

Bee listened intently to Morgan as he patiently, painstakingly, taught her how to skate. She clung onto his hands for dear life half the time, pleading for him not to let go, and he was so patient with her, not once telling her to let go unless she was ready. When she finally was, he was her biggest fan, cheering her on as he skated backwards and she skated towards him. Eventually, she grew confident enough to skate away from the boards, not relying on them to save her in case she fell and had to get up. She was even skating with her hands relaxed at her sides and not straight out to help her keep her balance. She even held hands with Morgan as he slowed down to skate with her, helping her stop and turn when she got too close to the boards. She wasn’t exactly Connor McDavid – whoever that was – but she was gliding along the ice nonetheless. She couldn’t believe she’d waited 23 years to skate.

After about an hour and a half, Bee was tired and Shirley had approached Morgan to tell him some kids were waiting for him to get his autograph and a picture. Bee gave him a quick kiss before she skated off and Morgan skated towards the kids. She sat on the same bench as she had before when Morgan was fastening her skates, resting her legs as she watched him pose for picture after picture. She felt her phone buzz from her back pocket and moved to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Angie’s voice was heard on the other end. “What are you up to right now?” she asked. They had been texting throughout Bee’s time there, so Angie didn’t need to ask how everything was going.

“Just watching Morgan sign some autographs,” she said.

“He took you to an autograph signing?”

“No no. We’re at the country club his family are members of, and all the kids swarmed him on the ice after he taught me how to skate.”

“A country club? That’s adorable,” Angie said quickly. “Um, listen. I’m calling you to ask you for a favour.”

“What favour is that?” Bee asked, worried about Angie’s quick tone.

“I think it’s time to put your Instagram on private now, and I’d delete everyone you don’t know personally.”

Bee’s heart skipped a beat. She and Angie had talked about the messages, but this was the first time Angie had cautioned her to go private. Usually, Angie contributed a ‘fuck them’ or ‘You should put on all the most expensive stuff you bought and take a picture with Morgan and caption it go to hell’. She’d never sounded so serious about it a she did now. “Why?”

“Listen, I don’t want to freak you out, but they’re adding me now, and asking me questions about you. I’m not saying they’re harassing me – quite the opposite actually because I’m the one telling them to fuck off – but I don’t want them to start doing that to anyone else,” she explained. “I think it’s great that you don’t care about what they have to say, but I don’t want them bothering more and more people.”

“Yeah. Yeah of course,” Bee said absent-mindedly. “Fuck Angie, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “They’re desperate and they don’t know boundaries. When everybody shares everything on social media, they think they’re entitled to see everything about your life, and they don’t get that they’re not.”

“Exactly.”

“Just be careful. Work on it as soon as possible. Again, I know you don’t care about what they have to say, but I think now is the time to cut them off.”

“Yeah. Yeah okay,” Bee gulped. “Angie, what did they say to you? Was it horrible?”

“No, nothing like that. They’ve just been asking question about you, like what you do and if you’re dating Morgan. One girl asked if I had any pictures of you two together. It was really weird. But I told them all to fuck off.”

“Angie, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t feel horrible because they don’t know boundaries. It was fine if it was just one or two of them, but then there was a horde and it just became annoying,” she explained. “And you know me, I’m a petty person – at least I can be. If I were you, I’d post a single picture of you and Morgan before you go private and delete everyone. Kick ‘em where it really hurts.”

Bee couldn’t help but laugh at her suggestion. “I’ll think about it.”

***

Later that day, during their last night in Vancouver, Bee found herself at dinner with Morgan and his parents at the exclusive Gotham Restaurant in downtown Vancouver. Morgan wanted to go out with a bang, apparently, because caviar was $150, then they had to get a round of oysters, the bottle of cabernet franc from Napa Valley was $345, and Bee’s filet and lobster with mashed potatoes and asparagus was a $100 plate alone. He told the waiter everything like it was an order at McDonalds. Though she was somewhat getting used to the big spending – at least to her standards – this was pretty extravagant. But all she could do was blink and smile as she tallied the expense of everyone’s order. Maybe she should have become a waitress instead, because theirs was going to get one hell of a tip tonight.

Despite trying to feel accustomed to the extravagance around her, she was genuinely having fun with Morgan and his parents. They were sharing stories of Morgan’s youth and what he was like as a kid, and Shirley kept sharing pictures she had on her phone of him as a kid (“I always keep some on here in case Hockey Night in Canada wants to do a quick something on him when the Leafs come to town.”). Andy and Shirley even went so far as to tell embarrassing stories of what he would call about during his first year in Toronto when he was attempting to cook for himself. Bee learned that he was completely useless, and that eventually the calls stopped because he just admitted defeat and ordered most of his food.

As they continued to laugh and share stories, Bee felt her phone buzz from inside her bag. She decided to ignore it at first, but not even one minute later it was buzzing again, and she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She quickly unclasped her purse and looked at her phone. In large caps lock font, ‘TORONTO POLICE SERVICES’ flashed on her screen.

Her heart began to race. She looked up quickly at Andy and Shirley, and looked down at her phone screen again. She couldn’t tell them that that the police were calling her, but she needed a way out. She had to think fast. “I’m really sorry,” she announced, getting up from her seat quickly. “I’m really sorry, but U of T is calling me. I have to take this.”

“That’s alright honey,” Shirley smiled. Bee was thankful they had already finished their meal and were just waiting on their dessert orders anyway. “You go ahead. I’ll make sure Morgan doesn’t eat your crème brulee.”

Bee made a beeline away from the table and swiped across her screen to answer the phone call so she wouldn’t lose it again. She made her way towards the long hallway that led to the washrooms, hoping she’d get decent service and enough silence to be able to hear. “Hello?”

“Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Briony McTavish?”

“Speaking.”

“Ms. McTavish, my name is Greg Campbell. I’m calling from the Toronto Police Department, 51 Division. Do you have a few moments to speak with me?”

Bee furrowed her brows. “Uh, of course. Is everything okay?” she asked. She didn’t remember doing anything illegal, and the only other reason they could be calling her was the break and enter from November. She figured since so much time had passed, they never found anything.

“Ms. McTavish, are you currently residing in Toronto?”

“Y-Yes…” she answered. “I mean, I’m not in Toronto right now – I’m in Vancouver visiting my boyfriend’s parents – but yes, I live permanently in Toronto,” she explained.

“And Ms. McTavish, according to records I have on file here, you were legally emancipated from your mother, Ms. Sharon McTavish, when you were sixteen years old.”

Bee’s body stiffened at the mention of her mother. “Yes I was. My mother was a serious alcoholic.”

“Have you been in touch with your mother since you were emancipated from her?”

“No,” Bee said definitively. “She barely showed love or affection throughout my whole life with her, and I thought it best for my mental health not to keep in contact with her after the emancipation. She has never tried to contact me either.”

“Ms. McTavish, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with these questions – I just need to get the specifics of the case --”

“What case is that?”

Greg hesitated on the other end. “Ms. McTavish, I regret to inform you that your mother has passed away. She was found dead on the morning of Friday, January 25th due to cirrhosis of the liver.”

Bee went quiet. Her mother was dead. Found dead. Dead due to cirrhosis of the liver. Dead. Morning of Friday. Whale watching. She was whale watching and her mother was dead. The silence between the two was long before Bee verbalized her first thought out loud. “She’s dead.”

“Yes ma’am. She passed away early Friday morning. Her body was found by a volunteer at the homeless shelter where she was staying that night.”

If it was possible, her body stiffened even more. “She was homeless?”

“Well, temporarily. She was at the Fred Victor Homeless Shelter here in Moss Park. According to the facilitators she was in-between housing, but that’s where she was,” Greg said.

Bee took a sharp breath in hearing that name again. She took a moment to collect herself before trying to formulate a thought other than ‘She’s dead’. “Um…so, what are my next steps then?”

“Well Ms. McTavish, you were the only person listed as being of relation to Sharon, so you automatically become in charge of her estate,” Greg explained. Bee was thoroughly surprised she was still listed under anything to do with her mother, even after the emancipation. “There is…not much, as you can imagine, but some decisions still have to be made. And as the defacto executor of her estate, you may choose the next steps – if you would like her buried, or cremated…”

“Um…” Bee looked quickly back at Morgan and his parents sitting at the table. His mom was taking a sip of wine while Morgan was nodding at something his dad was saying. Morgan broke out into a grin soon after, as did his dad. Morgan looked over to Bee’s empty seat. “When…I mean, when do I have to make these decisions?”

“Well I understand that you’re in Vancouver, but is there an expected date for your return?”

“Um, I’ll be back Friday night, actually.”

“Well, then I will give you my contact information, and when you get back, I can meet with you at the station and explain your next options,” Greg offered kindly. “I don’t want to rush you to make decisions, and I know you were clearly not close with your mother and haven’t been in contact with her for a while, but do you think there will be a funeral service?”

“No.”

“Or a burial?”

“Cremation. I don’t…I don’t want anything fancy.”

“Alright Ms. McTavish. We will speak when you’re back in Toronto.”

Bee hung up the phone, looking down at it until the screen went dark and she couldn’t even formulate a coherent thought about the conversation she just had. Her mother was dead. Her mother – whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to for seven years – was dead. Her mother, the serious alcoholic. The emotional abuser. The not-a-mother-at-all. She tried to compose herself, even though she wasn’t crying at all, as she looked back at Morgan and his parents. They were still laughing about something.

She returned to the table, trying to mask her uneasiness at the phone conversation she just had. She pulled out her chair, getting the attention of everyone. “Everything okay?” Andy asked as she settled back into her seat.

“Everything’s fine,” she nodded her head quickly, tucking herself in and stuffing her phone back into her bag.

“You sure? Who was it?” Morgan asked, grabbing her hand gently underneath the table.

“It was just a registrar from U of T,” she lied, smiling at him. “Just wanted to confirm something on my transcript before they printed my copy for the interview.”

She could feel his thumb rubbing her hand gently as his dad recapped the story he had been telling quickly before continuing it. She felt bad about lying, but there was no way in hell she was going to say something and ruin such a perfect night. Though she smiled and laughed along, squeezing Morgan’s hand as it rested on her thigh, all she could think about was the image of her mom lying on a bed in a homeless shelter.

Dead.

***

When they arrived back at the Rielly house that night after dinner, Bee made sure to pack up her belongings, save for what she was going to need tomorrow morning and wear on the flight. To be respectful to Morgan’s parents, she and Morgan had stayed in their respective rooms the entire trip, not daring to try to sneak into each other’s, but tonight he was with her, helping her pack and getting everything ready. His parents had already called it a night and were in their room at the opposite end of the house. The house was so big that they probably wouldn’t even have known or heard if either of them had snuck into the other’s room at night.

To be completely honest, Bee wanted nothing more than that to happen tonight. She didn’t know what she was feeling in relation to the news she got after dinner, but she knew that she didn’t want to be alone. She knew that she wanted Morgan with her, around her in some capacity.

When they were finished packing everything and had changed into their pajamas, Morgan watched as Bee stared at the wall absent-mindedly, something obviously bothering her. He came up behind her and sat on the bed beside her, giving her a quick kiss on the temple and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. “Briony…” he mumbled against her skin.

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure it was just U of T that called at dinner?” Morgan asked.

She knew he would ask sooner or later. She’d tried not to let anything show, but besides Angie, there was nobody more in tune with her emotions than Morgan. She knew he’d pick up on it. “Why?”

“Listen, I don’t mean to pry. It’s just I noticed that you were a bit different since you got back. My mom noticed it too because she’s sensitive about these things but she didn’t want to say anything. Is…is everything okay?”

Bee let out a shaky breath, one that, truthfully, she had been holding in since she got the call. “Mo…”

He grabbed her had and brought it up to his lips to kiss it gently. “What’s the matter, Bumblebee? Tell me.”

“It wasn’t U of T that called.”

“Okay. Who was it?”

“It was a guy named Greg Campbell. He’s a police officer with 51 Division in Toronto.”

Morgan looked at her skeptically. “You’re telling me after all this time they found your stuff?”

“No…it’s not…” she shook her head. She let out another shaky breath before continuing. “Um, he called me to tell me my mom passed away. A volunteer at a homeless shelter found her, and she died from cirrhosis of the liver.”

Bee could practically see Morgan’s heart fall into his stomach. He opened his mouth a few times to say something, but nothing came out for a while, until, “Oh my God, Briony…wh…why didn’t you say something?”

“I wasn’t going to say something at dinner with your parents,” she said.

“Briony, your mother passed away.”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. She’s dead, and I always knew she was going to die from the alcoholism, so this isn’t as much of a surprise to me as you think it is,” she explained. “I don’t…I’m not upset by this. I haven’t spoken to her in seven years. She was abusive.”

It was the first time she had said the words so definitively out loud. She was abusive. They weren’t pretty words, but they needed to be said. And Morgan needed to hear them. It was the reason she wasn’t crying. She couldn’t feel sadness or sympathy for her abuser, or for a woman who wasted her life on alcohol instead of caring for her daughter.

Morgan had no choice but to accept what she was saying. He could tell her ‘But that’s your mom’ over and over again until he was blue in the face, but it wasn’t going to have an effect on Bee. To Bee, Sharon wasn’t a mom. There was nothing that could convince her that she was. And truthfully, Morgan knew she was right. And if that’s the way Bee felt, then that’s the way he felt about it too. If she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, then he would try not to make a big deal out of it either. “She…cirrhosis of the liver? What is that?”

“It’s complicated, but just know it’s not good. It’s a common by-product of severe alcoholism,” she explained. “But the fact of the matter is that she died. When we go back to Toronto, I have to deal with her funeral and her estate.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said automatically.

“You don’t--”

“I want to,” he interrupted her. “What did I tell you? You don’t have to go through this stuff alone anymore. We’re going to go through this stuff together.”

Bee looked at him. All 6’1” of him, blonde hair, blue eyes, muscles tucked into pajama shorts and an old t-shirt. He was so boyish and so handsome and he had his pick of any girl in Toronto and he managed to choose the one with the fucked up childhood and alcoholic mother who had just died. And he was still here after learning all that. He still flew her to Vancouver to meet his parents. He still volunteered to see a dead alcoholic’s body ravaged by cirrhosis. She didn’t deserve him. “Morgan?”

“Mhmm?”

“Can you…can you just like, hold me?”

“C’mere, Bumblebee,” he moved to hold her in his arms as he tucked them both into bed. She used his chest as a pillow as he wrapped both his arms around her. “I love you Briony. We’re going to get through this together.”

“I love you too. And I know we will,” she said, looking up at him.

He gave her a quick kiss. “I don’t know what you’re feeling right now, and I know I won’t be able to understand, but you’re allowed to feel whatever you want,” he said. “I know that she was your mom, but she was a horrible mom, so there’s gonna be, like, a range of emotions. But you’re allowed to feel it all. Don’t think you’re not.”

“I’ll be okay, Mo,” she said, giving him another quick kiss before relaxing her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair soothingly, reducing all the stiffness and pent up emotion she had in her. She knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible, just in case she said anything or wanted to talk about it further, but after a while, she felt his heartbeat steady, and she knew he was asleep.

***

Bee had slept all of twenty minutes at most. When she looked over at the alarm clock and it read 3am, she sighed heavily. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to sleep, she really did, but every time she closed her eyes and her mind started to drift, an image from her childhood would reappear, and she’d snap her eyes open and be wide awake again. Images of her mom passed out on the couch when she got home from school; of sitting at the kitchen table doing homework, watching her mom open another bottle on the kitchen counter; of looking up at her mom sleeping on the bed in the homeless shelter while she was sleeping on the floor using her backpack as a pillow.

Slowly but surely, she manoeuvred herself out of Morgan’s grasp, sitting on the edge of the bed for a while, staring out the window into the pristine darkness of the West Vancouver sky. Her mother was dead. She always knew she would have to say that one day, but she didn’t imagine it being so soon. A small part of her actually thought she wouldn’t have to say that one day, because nobody would contact her to tell her, so she wouldn’t know at all. But she knew now, and she couldn’t get it out of her head.

After coming to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be able to sleep, she thought going to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water was a better alternative to looking out of a window into darkness. She tip-toed quietly down the stairs and made her way there, grabbing a glass and trying to figure out how to work the built-in icemaker on the Rielly’s new fridge that looked like it belonged in space rather than a house. When she couldn’t figure it out, she resorted to just getting water from the tap and drinking it warm.

“Are you okay?” Bee suddenly heard a voice whisper. She jumped dramatically, turning around to see Andy standing at the entrance of the kitchen in his pajamas with a bathrobe on.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. You scared me,” her hand went over her heart.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, laughing a bit. “You thirsty?”

“Uh, yeah…” she said, looking down at the glass of tap water in her hand. “I couldn’t figure out how to use your space fridge to get ice though.”

Andy snorted. “Maybe we should go back to using ice trays,” he laughed, pulling open the fridge door to get out the orange juice. He grabbed a glass and set it down on the table, pulling out a chair. “Sit, honey.”

Bee didn’t want to say no. There was no reason she could have, anyway, so she took the invitation and sat in a seat opposite of him as he poured orange juice into his cup. She watched as he took a long gulp, swallowing almost half of the juice he just poured, before he focused his attention back to her. “Was everything okay after dinner?”

Bee tried to look away from him but she couldn’t. He was staring right at her and she was sitting across from him and there was no way in hell she could deny him an answer. The only thing she could do was prolong it. “Why do you ask?”

Andy shuffled a bit in his seat. “Listen. I don’t mean to pry,” he said, starting the conversation the exact same way Morgan did. God, now she really knew where he got it from. “Shirley and I just noticed a little bit of a…shift when you came back. I just want to make sure everything is okay.”

She decided to just come right out with it. “How much has Morgan told you about my mom?”

Andy looked taken aback by the question. It wasn’t like she was trying to call his bluff or anything – she knew Morgan had told his parents about it, as evident from the conversation she had with Shirley on their first day here – but she wondered if he talked about it more with his mom, or if Shirley told Andy. His answer was important because it determined how she would start and handle the conversation. “Morgan’s told me about her addiction issues. How she was an alcoholic,” he clarified. “A pretty severe one, it seemed. And how you guys moved around a lot because of it.”

Bee nodded her head. “Well, that phone call at dinner was from a police officer named Greg Campbell. He called to let me know my mom passed away. She was found dead in a homeless shelter due to cirrhosis of the liver.”

Andy stayed quiet. It wasn’t a lot of information to take in, but it was a stab in the heart nonetheless. Over the past few days he’d been able to see how happy she made his son, and it was something he loved to see. To hear that she had gotten a phone call like that, on her last night of what was supposed to be a vacation, was horrible. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said solemnly.

“And that’s the thing – I’m not,” she admitted for the first time out loud. “I know…I know that sounds harsh and rude and completely…inhuman, but I’m not sad about it. I’m not sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t be sorry for someone that never acted like a real mother,” she said gingerly. She ran the risk of exposing her entire heart and soul to her boyfriend’s father over the kitchen table at three o’clock in the morning, but right now, she didn’t care. “She was never loving. She was never caring. She never did anything to prove herself worthy of the title of being called mom. She cared more about herself and her addiction than she ever did me.”

“That’s understandable --”

“Plus,” she inadvertently interrupted him, “she never worked to make herself better. I can’t feel sad for a person that caused me so much pain in my life, regardless of whether or not she was my mother. She never acted like it. And after not seeing her for almost seven years, I don’t even feel a connection to her anymore. Quite frankly, even when I was living with her, I hardly did.”

“I get it, Briony. I get it as much as I can get it,” he said. She was thankful he acknowledged that he could never truly know. “I know how much pain she caused you and I know she didn’t make your life easy. You don’t have to feel sympathy or sadness. She doesn’t deserve that from you and I get it. But you have to be feeling something.”

Bee was scared to reveal what she was really feeling. She knew if she verbalized it, if she put it out in the open, that it would become real. It would no longer just be something she felt internally, something she could lie about to people’s faces to make them think she was fine. “I feel…I feel relief,” she finally admitted, to herself and to Andy. A stray tear fell down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly. One tear was too many to shed. “I feel like I giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like it’s finally…over. That I can move on. I don’t have to think about her anymore. I won’t toss and turn at night thinking about what has happened to me. I won’t lie awake thinking about what she could be doing or who she could be with or what she could have been up to these seven years, if the alcoholism got worse, if she got into anything else. I just…I don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s done. It’s done.”

Andy moved his chair so he was closer to her before putting a comforting hand on her forearm. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Absolutely,” he said firmly, nodding his head. “You have every right to feel that way and it is one hundred percent validated by what you went through, and don’t let anybody try to convince you otherwise. She was an awful mother, and you separated yourself and got out of that situation as quickly as you could, and if anybody needs to be commended in this situation, it’s you.”

“There was one time…” she began, shaking her head to herself, wondering if she should even tell him the story. The only other person she’d told was Angie – she hadn’t even told Morgan. “There was one time, I must have been 11 or 12. I was so angry at her one day. We had no food in the apartment, nothing – I had been eating saltine crackers for dinner for at least four days. She was standing at the kitchen counter opening another bottle of vodka she’d bought instead. And I was so angry. I asked her, ‘Why are you like this?’ And she looked at me – she didn’t even bother answering the question – she just looked at me and said, ‘You’re staring into your future, Bee. It’s inevitable. What I am is what you will be.’ And I told her that hell would freeze over before I became a degenerate like her. And she grabbed…” Bee paused, remembering the moment so vividly in her mind, as if it had just happened yesterday, even going so far as to pretend to grab a glass with her hand for emphasis, “she grabbed the glass that was on the counter, and she hurled it straight towards my head. I ducked, and it hit the fridge behind me and shattered all over the floor by my feet. We stared at each other for a few seconds before I said, ‘I hate you with every fibre of my being’. She didn’t even respond. She didn’t even grab another glass either, she just took the bottle straight to the couch and began to swig it.”

It was clear Andy was uncomfortable. To think that a parent could ever do that to a child was incomprehensible to him – it was incomprehensible to most people, not just him. And yet, she had to live through it. He quickly wiped a tear that had fallen onto his cheek. “You were born for a life so much better than what you were placed in,” his voice was soft, still reflecting and picturing the scene she had painted for him in his mind.

“That’s what I left behind. That’s the weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t have to think about that anymore.”

“Did it ever happen again? Did your mother ever hit you?” Andy asked.

Bee shook her head vehemently. “She was always too drunk. It was more so emotional, if we’re referring to abuse. And, you know, neglect.”

“You deserved so much better. No child should have had to go through that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m so happy you found us Briony. I’m so happy that you overcame that and you’re here with us now.”

“Thanks, Andy.”

“There’s no reason to thank me. You did it all yourself. I’m just thankful that you’re part of our family now.”

A sob escaped her at his last comment. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she let go, letting the tears well up in her eyes despite telling herself she wouldn’t cry. She didn’t want to shed tears over her mother, but she could shed tears over Andy saying something like that to her. “You have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “You have no idea how amazing these last few days have been. I’ve never felt so whole in my entire life.”

“I know sweetheart. I can tell.”

“I can’t even begin to, like…” she couldn’t find the right words as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I immediately felt this sense of like, warmness from the moment I met Morgan. He made me feel like I wasn’t alone anymore. That I had somebody. He’s been so good to me, Andy. So patient. You have to know how good he’s been. So understanding. You have to know you raised a good kid.”

“I know, sweetheart. Morgan adores you.”

“And then this week happened and you and Shirley and Connor have just been so nice and I…I know it’s sad to say but the only other people I’ve felt that with is my best friend’s family. But you guys are just so good, and I’ve had to pinch myself constantly this entire week.”

“I --”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve that comment you just made, about being part of your family. I don’t…I don’t know. But I love Morgan so much, and I know he loves me, and I know I’m gonna spend the rest of my life thanking my lucky stars that all this happened. And you have to know, you have to know, if hockey ended tomorrow I’d still love him with everything I have in me because he makes me feel so whole --”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart, I know,” Andy stressed, grabbing hold of her hands and squeezing them tightly as she let out a quick ‘I’m not in it for that’. “I know. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I can see it. Shirley and I – we can see it.”

“I just don’t want you to think --”

“I was never thinking that at all,” Andy shook his head. “You’re the farthest thing from what you’re implying and I know how much you care about my son.” He let go of her hands so she could wipe her remaining tears away. “Listen to me. You are deserving of every little good thing that comes your way, via my son or otherwise. You can’t feel like you don’t deserve it. Everybody deserves good things to happen to them.” Bee nodded her head at his words, trying to internalize them as much as possible. “You’re a great girl Briony, and you deserve the world. Everybody around you sees it. You just need to start seeing it too.”

Bee took a couple of minutes to calm down. She knew that everything Andy had just said was right, and she needed that time to really take it in. To accept it and own it and live with it as her new life mantra was going to be a separate battle, but right now, she needed to acknowledge the deeply intense heart-to-heart she’d just had, and how she felt much more clear about things – about her future – than she had coming into the conversation. “Thank you for listening, Andy.”

He smiled. “There’s no reason to thank me. This is what dads are for, Briony.”

“I’m sorry if I --”

“Don’t apologize for a single thing,” he said. “You just remember what I told you. That’s the only thing you need to do here. Remember that you are deserving of love.”

“Is everything okay?” Morgan’s voice, groggy and sleepy, was suddenly heard form the entrance of the kitchen. He stood in his pajamas, taking in the scene before him.

“Briony and I were just thirsty,” Andy said quickly, giving Bee a quick wink before getting up and putting his glass in the sink. “She couldn’t work our space fridge to get ice, either.”

“We should go back to using ice trays,” Morgan quipped. Briony couldn’t help but laugh – he and his father were truly the same person. She walked towards him, a small smile creeping on her face. He hoped that in his state, he wouldn’t notice that she had been crying, or that her eyes were red from the tears. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Let’s go back to bed,” she said, looking back at Andy. “Thanks again, Andy.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he smiled as they disappeared down the hallway.

When they got back into bed, Bee cuddled closer to Morgan, draping her arm over his torso so she could feel the warmth of his body heat against hers. “You sure everything is okay?” he whispered.

She nodded her head. “Yeah. Andy’s a really good dad,” was all she could say.

“He’s the best,” Morgan agreed, his eyes fluttering closed. “He’s who I want to be.”

“You’re already there, baby,” she whispered before they both fell asleep.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #alone together series

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vaingloriosa · 6 years ago

Text

Why Don’t Snakes Have Arms?

Connor x Reader

Words: 1,768

Summary: You thought you could manage work while running a high fever and feeling absolutely miserable. You guess you are wrong. Way wrong.

Requested by: Anonymous

Author’s note: you may look at this title and think, “what the ever living fuck has angel gotten us into?” and all i can say is...you’ll see. also, anon, hope u don’t mind that i tweaked your prompt a bit (maybe a whole lot...whoops)

masterlist

“I thought I advised you to stay home.”

Behind your sunglasses, you appear to be fine though underneath your façade, you couldn’t help but feel an impending doom looming over the horizon. You wave a dismissal right hand before you sneeze into the crook of your elbow and feel the blow in your chest.

“I’m fine, really, Connor,” you manage to get that sentence out when you feel a phlegm-y cough at the back of your throat. You clear your throat and straighten out your dark coat, faking your way through this.

“You’re running a fever.”

“Typical. My body’s fighting back.”

“You haven’t taken any medication.”

“I was running late!”

Connor furrows his brows at your stubbornness. He opens the door for you as soon as you sneeze again, this time a little more harshly than before. He places a warm hand on your shoulder as the two of you walk over to the bullpen to get to work. You find your desk and plop down with the full force of your weight onto the innocent desk chair. It squeaks, slowly wheeling you away from your terminal but you allow the chair to take you wherever it pleases. Connor frowns then stifles a laugh as you begin to scramble towards the files on your desk. You’ve just become his mission: try and make you as comfortable as possible.

But that’s easier said than done.

Not even an hour in and your waste bin overflows with used tissues. At this point, you aren’t even aiming correctly because your vision has become bleary from your cold. Your body becomes a revolving door between two extremes of cold and sweltering. Even Gain, the man who makes it his side job to roast everyone in the precinct, has taken pity over you and stopped making jokes about your sick self. Connor looks over to Hank who is watching all this unfold before his very eyes. He nods over to the Captain’s office who happens to make eye contact with him. Fowler lets out a big sigh and nods in your direction.

You need to go home and rest.

“Good luck, kid,” Hank tells him as Connor grabs his coat from the back of his desk chair. Connor approaches you cautiously in order to not startle you while you write with haste on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Connor says your voice in a sweet tone, gingerly placing his hands on your shoulders and gently massaging them. Your shoulders drop immediately at the touch, careful in biting back the moans that want to escape. “I think you should go back home and rest.”

You shake your head in protest. “I’m doing just fine, honey.”

Connor squints at the police report you have in front of you. Upon closer inspection, he knows that you are not in any position to be at work.

“You wrote ‘why the fuck don’t snakes have any arms?’ then proceeded to explain your own question.” He places the paper neatly in front of you and you frown.

“It’s a valid question, don’t you think?”

Connor places his hand under your arm and begins to lift you up. You want to resist but you give in to his touch. He grabs your coat and purse then places the warm coat over your shoulders then pulls you close. As soon as you leave the precinct and into a driver-less taxi, you nearly nod off to sleep on Connor’s shoulder. You only wake when the vibrations of the road that rocked you to sleep came to a stop. You rise from the taxi and feel instant regret as blood surges to your brain too quickly and causes a minor headache. You huff and trudge up the stairs of the brownstone. The perks of living in “Old Detroit” as it was plainly dubbed meant living in a part of the industrial revolution history with a technological twist. You press your thumbprint on the scanner near the doorknob and with a tiny beep, you nearly stumble inside.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Connor offers as you shrug off your coat and give it to him. You navigate towards your bedroom and groan when you realize an obstacle.

“Ugh, why does my house have stairs!” you holler in a hoarse voice into the air and let out a frustrated groan. You grab a hold of the handrails and begrudgingly make the trek upstairs to get into your cozy pajamas.

Suddenly, euphoria takes on the shape of your bed as you flop down on your back and pull the duvet closer to you. You hear a knock on the open door and peak through the covers to see Connor standing with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other.

“You should take these.” He walks over and puts the items on the nightstand. You roll over on your side away from Connor and moan into your pillow. Your arms begin to feel like concrete, slowly sinking into the mattress.

“They taste like ass,” you say into your pillow and huff, quietly laughing to yourself. Connor simply rolls his eyes as he still tries to figure out the different colloquialisms of human beings.

“But if snakes had arms, they’d be lizards.”

Connor tilts his head at how out of the blue your sentence is. He says your name in the form of a question but it seems like you can’t hear him.

“That reminds me of this one time my family went to the zoo...hold on-” You shakily stand up and press your back against your headboard to act as support. Connor’s initial reaction is to reach for you and his eyes are full of concern.

“Since when did I get up here?”

Connor shakes his head. “You don’t remember?”

You didn’t. From all you can remember, you had been in the taxi and somehow ended up here. Your fever had taken over and put your entire body on autopilot for the time being. You start to slink back down underneath the duvet as you feel the world beginning to spin once again. You spot the medication then think that maybe this can help and drink the medication down the hatch. You suck on your teeth at the bitter aftertaste and close your eyes as the water burns while it travels down your scratchy throat.

Connor begins a scan and concludes you are suffering from delirium due to your high fever. He starts to speak up until he’s soon hit with a message from the D.P.D. Connor’s eyes begin to flutter as he gathers the information, LED turning a curious yellow then readjusts his vision. Another homicide case that requires his assistance.

He feels awful in leaving you in the state that you’re in. Connor begins to reason to himself that perhaps you will give into the pull of sleep and knock out like a light for several hours while he’s gone. Then again, you can be quite unpredictable.

“I just received a case. I’m sorry to leave you but I have to go. I will be back, I promise.” Connor bends down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he begins to leave, you grab a hold of his wrist to prevent him from walking any further.

“Connor, please, stay...at least...until I go to sleep,” you plead with him. You don’t understand why you begin to cry but you don’t fight the tears that drop along your cheek. “I don’t want you to go. Please.”

Connor melts at your request and can’t find the heart to tell you no. Captain Fowler would understand the reasoning for his absence, hopefully. He sits back down next to you and runs his hands over your hair to soothe you. He learned that you enjoyed this one time when you two had been watching a film here and you laid your head on his lap. It felt like an instinct to reach over and play with your hair and you gave him the green light.

You hum in content at the feeling. Your fingers find Connor’s free hand and you brush the pads on your fingers over the top. “Can you do that thing where you make your skin disappear? It’s fascinating.”

After escaping from his programming, Connor suddenly felt like a fish out of water. For the first time, he had experienced entirely new emotions completely foreign to him. Being an android made for obstacles but you two embraced them together head on. You had asked him one day to show who he really was underneath the synthetic skin and as much as that request made him question if you would still see love him, he showed you his true self. Connor remembers the smile that crossed your lips and how you captured his lips into yours, telling him how much you love him. This is a part of him and you will love him unconditionally and would work through this insecurity together.

Connor finally felt like he belonged.

Now, showing his true self doesn’t bother him and makes for a fun party trick. The synthetic skin disappears in the blink of an eye and you let out a small gasp. In your fever state, everything captures your attention and this is no different. It feels like you are witnessing this transformation for the first time. You marvel at the intricacies of each joint and how seamless each line is. Connor moves his arm for you to see his palm, rewarding him a second gasp that nearly makes him laugh. You touch the palm of his hand and trace shapes along the smooth surface.

“I love having an android boyfriend. I love you, Connor, you know that? Hope you do.”

Connor takes your hand into his and kisses the top of your hand. “I love you, too.”

You wave your other hand to try and dry the new tears that fall from your face. You use the heel of your hand to dab underneath your eyes. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t deserve you.”

He can detect the sleepiness in your tone as the cold medicine begins to kick in. You nestle your head deeper into the pillow all the while you hold onto Connor’s hand. You can feel your eyelids become heavy because of sleep but you try to fight it to feel the warmth of your boyfriend. Before you succumb to the much needed rest your body needs, you hear his calming voice.

“Goodnight. I’ll be here if you need me, love.”

Tagging: @kwaiky, @rebelfinn, @chrisevansthedoritobastard, @black-widow-fangirl, @connorshero, @yonaih

#angel writes #connor x reader #connor #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh connor #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human imagine #why don't snakes have arms?#@ connor damb he gets on my mf uwus!!

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butcanijustnot · 6 years ago

Text

Taste Of The Light - A Young Justice FanFic Prologue

Author: Crystalline / @butcanIjustnot

Fandom: Young Justice x OCs

Part number: Prologue of a seventeen-part story... Yeah, I know.

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 - I’m not sure how good this is but I mean it’s something so here you go.

Summary: This chapter explains the universe around the new OC characters. It’s basically just backstory. Pretty boring but the next chapter makes up for it, I promise. Also, this fic takes place between season 1 and season 2 of the show, as shown by the timestamps in the chapters.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Light swearing towards the end, but apart from that nothing really.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Watchtower.

7.15pm. 1st October 2011.

“I hope this is important, Red Tornado,” Batman said in his signature stony voice as he entered the watchtower’s control room, greeting his colleague with about as much warmth as he could muster this late at night. “I was in the middle of a very important dinner.” He added, strategically leaving out the fact that the ‘important dinner’ was with Alfred, Barbara, and Dick. Unimportant.

“I apologize, Batman.” Red tornado answered in his robotic voice, his gaze never leaving the large screens which were filled with various pages and files. “but I do believe that this is important, though I need you to confirm my suspicion. Come and take a look at this.” He said, beckoning Batman forwards towards the computers.

“You will recall, a few months ago, we apprehended a man attempting to hack the Justice League servers and steal top secret information, such as secret identities and weapon plans, to sell to third parties. He goes by the name TechTalk online, but his civilian identity is Shane Carter” Red Tornado explained, pulling up a mugshot of a blond man. He had huge black circles under her eyes, and a listless frown as he held up the name-plate. “He was a robotics and engineering prodigy. He first got media attention when he built a fully functioning android at age nine for a primary school science fair. By the time he was fourteen, he had graduated high school and had a full scholarship to Gotham International University, but he got bored with the schoolwork. Problems arose when he began to use his abilities only for hacking government systems and creating weaponized robots.” Numerous newspaper articles flashed on the screen of Shane Carter receiving awards and scholarships. The articles quickly turned bitter, however, as Shane’s creations got more and more dangerous.

A picture flew up next to Shane’s mugshot, of a pair of grey-white animatronics. They were human in shape but every part of their anatomy screamed ‘evil robot’, from the sleek and plastic-like white exterior to the silver guns replacing their right hands. Each robot had large bundles of silver and red wires showing through the cracks where two plastic limbs attached to one another. They had no facial expressions, no noses or ears or hair of any description, only huge red eyes that glowed in their sockets and metal jaws with serrated teeth. They were truly horrible, nightmarish creatures.

Batman looked at his robotic friend, suddenly extremely glad that he was a much friendlier looking animatronic, confused. “I know about TechTalk, Red Tornado, and he hasn’t done anything of interest in months. Why are you bringing this up now?” He asked, staring into the listless eyes of Shane’s mugshot.

“Due to being a non-violent offender, Shane was released with little more than a slap on the wrist and mild community service, but not before the league bugged all his electronic equipment with software to monitor what he is doing. You told me when we began doing this to notify you if anything that could be potentially dangerous showed up on any of his messages or programs.” He responded in his robotic voice. Batman nodded slowly as the screens cleared of other materials and Red Tornado opened a batch file labeled ‘records of TechTalk messages.’

“I think I found something that fits that description,” Tornado added as the file opened, showing screenshots of his messages. “These messages are from 11 o’clock yesterday. They transpire between TechTalk and a mysterious W.”

New plan. You want in? ~W

Depends on the plan. Your last idea was… less than fantastic… ~TechTalk

What are you talking about, TT? It was a great plan. ~W

I’m sorry, but covering the Gotham City Bank in cotton candy is not a villainous scheme. It’s a 6-year-old’s wish upon a unicorn, or whatever. ~TechTalk

Excuse U, that plan was amazing and totally would have worked if I could have gotten my hands on 200 metric tonnes of sugar. ~W

Whatever, no, this plan is better. ~W

Fine, explain your idea. ~TechTalk

I’m going to create an anti-justice league, compiled of the children of famous villains. It’ll be like the Young Justice league, but evil. It’ll be amazing, trust me. I’ve already got my eyes on a couple of Arkham babies. If I can get those three to fall under my command, everyone and everything else will fall into place. ~W

That’s actually… not a terrible plan. Good job. ~TechTalk

Try not to sound so surprised next time…. ~W

I’m going to need some backup to get this plan rolling. I’ll send you the details later. ~W

KK ~TechTalk

The messages were cryptic, with huge gaps that left unanswered questions, but one thing was abundantly clear. Someone was plotting to create a supervillain army, and the Justice League couldn’t let that happen.

“Who’s W?” Batman asked, furrowing his brow as the messages on the screen looped and replayed again. “I’ve never heard of him before.”

“Nobody has. Nobody going by the name ‘W’ is on the Justice League database, nor any of the others we are linked too.” Red tornado hummed. “These messages were only found a day or so ago, and though I have tried multiple times to trace the ID of the sender, they reroute the signal and shoot it somewhere digitally randomized and reset constantly.” He finished, looking over at the vacant and slightly confused expression of his colleague. He let out a robotic sigh. “They send me on a wild goose chase.” He explained. “As such, we have no idea who they are or where they are. We really only know there plan, and some would argue that that is not enough.” Red Tornado said, side-eying his colleague unsubtly.

“If the Arkham inmates do have children…” Batman thought aloud, his words trailing off but the thought behind them sticking clear in his head. If the Arkham inmates have children, those kids would probably be around Dick’s age… and they would probably have an axe to grind against him and all heroes…

“We’ll keep investigating this,” Batman stated after a brief period of thoughtful silence. “It has the potential to be a big problem…” He said, already forming a plan in his head.

“Or it could be nothing at all. We don’t even know if these children are real, there’s no record of any of them anywhere. I know, I’ve checked. Is this really the best use of Justice league time, protecting against a threat that quite possibly does not exist?” Red Tornado asked Batman, simply trying to raise another point. Batman was quiet for a moment, silently weighing all his options.

“So we will work out if these children are real, and then go from there. Come on, let’s not waste time.” Batman said, nodding as he spoke. He turned away from the screen and beckoned his robotic friend to follow him as he exited. “See if you can contact Diana and the rest of the league. I think that her Lasso is going to come in handy.“

“Where are we going?“ Tornado asked, following Batman to the Zeta-Tube.

Batman smirked, punching a code into the Zeta-Tubes. “The official meeting-place of the Batman fan-club,“ He said, entering the area code for Arkham Asylum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Selina glared at the Batman, twisting her fingers in the handcuffs to unsheathe and recoil her claws. Her torso shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Wonder Woman’s lasso.

Batman huffed and finally broke the silence. “Selina, I need to know if you have any children.” He asked her.

“Why do you care all of a sudden?” Selina said, cocking an eyebrow at him, confused.

Batman closed his eyes and shook his head. He should have known that trying to talk to Selina was a bad idea, he should have let Dinah do it like she offered, but he was here now and he was going to get the information he needed out of her. “We have reason to believe that if any of the villains in Arkham have children, they could be at risk. We don’t know the details yet, but we do know that somebody is planning to take advantage of them. If that's true, we need to get to these children before anyone else has the chance too.” He said, attempting to explain as best he could.

Selina looked at him for a second, as if she was trying to discern if he was telling the truth. Finally, she spoke, “Yes, I do.” She stated, avoiding his eyes and looking down at her clawed hands. The lasso glowed bright gold and then dulled again, signaling that she was telling the truth. “A daughter. Looked like me. Ears, tail, claws, the whole ordeal. Don’t bother asking me where she is now, I don’t know.” Selina explained quickly.

After a moment of awkward silence, Batman asked her a simple question. “Is it…”

“No.” She quickly cut him off before he could finish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Tornado looked across the table with hollow, lifeless eyes. “Do you have children?” He asked in his deadpanned voice.

“The fuck are you on?” Scarecrow growled, clearly confused. “I want some.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Harley, I need to know if you have children,” Dinah asked the loopy-eyed girl sitting across the table. She looked at Harley with what could only be described as a soft glare. Dinah couldn’t deny that has a soft spot for this crazy girl. She saw goodness in Harley, even if nobody else could.

“Watcha asking for?” Harley asked, cocking her head to one side. “You looking for a new mommy buddy to help with Connor?” She gasped suddenly, jumping in her seat. “Can I see pictures?!?” She squealed.

“HARLEY!“ Dinah screeched, pushing her back into her seat. “Harley, please, listen to me. People, children, could be in danger, and we need to help make sure that they are safe. The only way that we can do that right now is for you to answer that question, and answer it truthfully.”

The room was stone silent for far longer than Dinah was comfortable with before finally Harley spoke up.

“Yeah. I got kids.“ She said, her voice surprisingly listless as she stared down at the table. The lasso glowed bright and then dulled, showcasing her truth.

“Kids?“ Dinah asked her, reaching across the table to take one of Harley’s hands in her own. Harley looked up at her and gave a soft smile and small nod.

“Yeah, Kids. I had twins years ago, two beautiful boys. Adrian and William, They were the lights of my life.“

“Are they Joker’s?“ Dinah asked.

Slowly, Harley nodded again. “Yeah. Don’t tell him, though, he doesn’t know yet. I’ve never known how to tell him, so I just... didn’t. I didn’t know how he would react.“ Harley said, shrugging her shoulders.

Dinah paused for a second, letting Harley catch her breath before continuing. “Do you know where they are?“

She shook her head “I left them with my sister, maybe twelve or so years ago, but I haven’t heard from her in a while, oh god, at least a year, so I don’t know if they are still there.“

“We’ll try to find them, Harley. We’ll make sure they’re okay.“ Dinah said soothingly, smiling softly in an attempt to comfort her friend. It was quiet for a minute, before Dinah smirked playfully at Harley, cocking her head to one side.

“Do you really want to see pictures?“ She asked.

Of course, Harley perked right up almost immediately. “God yes!!!“ She squealed, clapping her hands together as Dinah pulled her phone out of her back pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you have any children?“ Diana asked the man across from her with her classic stony tone.

“What the hell do you think, princess?“ Mr. Frost snarled at her, sure to accentuate her phony title.

Had he not been wearing a fishbowl on his head, Diana would have slapped him. Hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Poison Ivy,“ Hal said, really wishing that he had stayed in bed instead of answering the justice league communicator.

“Green Lantern. The worst green thing on earth.” Poison Ivy said, sneering at the man.

Usually, Hal would find that funny, but his sleep-deprived ass wasn’t interested in making small talk today. “I’m not saying you sleep around, but If you tell me you have kids I won’t be surprised.“

“Charming.“

Hal waited for a second before gesturing for her to continue. “So do you?“

“Yes.“ She said simply as if she had nothing to hide and nothing to prove. The golden lasso confirmed her words as true. There was an awkward pause between the two of them before Hal spoke.

“I feel like that was too easy...“ He mumbled, before shaking his head and standing up. “But whatever, I don’t question the magic rope. I’m going to bed. Goodbye, Plantgirl.” He said, leaving the room with a rather insulted Ivy in his wake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re real...“ Batman said, pacing the length of the waiting room of Arkham Asylum as he thought. Diana sat in a seat to one side, twisting her lasso in one hand, listening to his rambling and nodding along. “These people have children. Real children.“ He added.

“What are we going to do about this?“ Diana asked him. “We all have jobs, lives and Justice league problems of our own. We can’t afford to follow this rabbit hole for weeks or months, especially if we have no solid leads other than “They exist.”“ She pointed out.

Batman rubbed his hand over his masked face, sighing deeply. “You’re right.” He said, more to himself than to her. “But what else are we going to do? We can’t just wait around for this to become a huge problem.”

Diana stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have another idea if you’re interested.” She said. “Have you thought about giving it to the Young Justice team, at least for now? They could work on it and try to break the case from another perspective. A teenager perspective. Those kids are much smarter than you’re willing to admit, they might be able to help.“ She said simply.

Batman thought for a second, before shaking his head. “That’s... A good idea.” He said. “I’ll talk to Robin about it tomorrow and discuss with the extended team as soon as possible.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Bruce,” Diana said, staring across the room at the wall with an aura of distance. “After all, how much trouble can four kids cause?“ She asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry about this guys, but I had to remove the links because tumblr is throwing a little bit of a tantrum in regards to links and NSFW content at the moment. As a result, me and many other creators are walking on eggshells until tumblr takes a fucking chill pill. As such there aren’t any links on this fic, but if you liked this and you want to see the rest of it, DM me and I’ll send you all the links to all the chapters I’ve written. Thanks guys and sorry again!

#young justice #fanfic #multipart #young justice fanfiction #oc

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i-just-love-writing-crap · 7 years ago

Text

Catching Murphy, Part 7

Warnings: Swearing, possible nsfw content Word Count: About 3810 Summary: You, Miss (y/n) (y/l/n), had a crush on Connor Murphy for years, from a distance of course. You had always been too shy to approach him, and the fact around school that he was an aggressive stoner caused you to become even more shy. One day, in history class, your teacher decided to assign a project and assigned everyone a partner—you and Connor were partnered together. Could you two grow close during the project and remain close? Or will Connor go back to ignoring you after the project comes to a close? A/N: I apologize if Connor is a biiiiit OOC… ;-; Obviously takes place in an AU where Connor is alive. Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

You and Connor were sitting in history, and you were talking more about Akhenaten. You also went through what you had planned for your PowerPoint, and Connor was rather impressed. He found new ways to find you interesting each and every minute that passed. Again, just like yesterday, he observed you intensely, watching your face contort in happiness as you talked about your passion. Connor noticed how your voice went up in pitch and grew slightly agitated as you continued to talk about the Heretic Pharaoh. “Whoa, whoa, dork… calm the hell down before you blow a fucking gasket,” he said.

“Huh? S-sorry, did I get too heated again?” you asked.

“Yeah, you did get a bit heated, dork. Just dial it back a bit, like damn,” he said.

You rubbed the back of your neck and apologize, “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t much like him… like really don’t like him!”

Connor smiled briefly to himself and he retorted, “No shit, dork. I can see that.”

Laughing nervously, you laid your head down on the desk. “S-sorry…”

History class ended and you met Alexa in the hallway. Her hazel eyes held a certain look and you knew that she knew that you went home with Connor yesterday. “(Y/n) (y/l/n)! You have some explaining to do, missy!” she exclaimed as she bounded up to you.

“Hey… Lexy…” you said slowly, knowing your death was coming. “What are you talking about?”

Stopping in front of you, Alexa grabbed your arm, dragging you to English class. “You know exactly what I’m talking about! Firstly, you got into Connor Murphy’s car yesterday after school! Secondly, you were talking with him, Jared and Evan this morning! What happened?! You’re usually too shy to talk to boys!”

You stammered, “I, uh, well… I don’t know what happened. I, uh, I was just talking to Connor yesterday after school, while we were working on a project, and I just…” A sigh, “I dunno… got slightly less anxious?”

“You were telling Jared how you and Connor had sex, (y/n)! Is that true?!”

“Keep your voice down, Lexy! Connor doesn’t need that rumor going around school. And no, it was a fib to make Jared flustered,” you said, hushing your friend.

“Oh! I get it,” Alexa said as you two walked into English.

Thankfully your English teacher didn’t really care where anyone sat, so when you saw Evan, you smiled and pulled Alexa along with you. Evan had always sat a little off from the rest of the class, due to his social anxiety. But, today you were going to make him feel not as alone, since you also suffered from social anxiety. “Hey, Evan?” you asked, getting his attention. Once he looked at you, you continued, “Can me and Lexy sit with you today?”

Evan sputtered out, “U-uhh… I, uh, I guess? S-sure…”

You sat beside Evan while Alexa sat beside you. It was awkward, no doubt, but that little bean needed to know that he was no longer alone in the fight against his own social anxiety. “S-so?” you began, “H-how was your first class, Evan?”

He looked down at his desk, shrugged and answered you in a small voice, “I-it was… alright, I guess.”

“Wh-what was it?” you asked awkwardly.

Evan answered just as awkwardly, “E-economics.”

Alexa gasped, “Oh my God, who do you have? Do you have Mr. Green? I heard he’s amazing at teaching economics!”

“U-umm…” stuttered Evan, “y-yeah… I have him.”

“Oh my God, same here! I have him just before lunch,” laughed Alexa.

You, Evan and Alexa talked throughout English class, your teacher assigned some classwork that could be done in groups of two or three. Naturally, you three worked together, and it seemed like Evan was somewhat enjoying himself.

At lunch, you looked for people to sit with. Alexa had gotten sick just after English class, which was weird because she was one of the healthiest people you knew, but life happens. As you scanned the lunchroom, your eyes settled on Evan, Jared and Connor. Bingo, you thought to yourself as you walked over. “Hey guys,” you said awkwardly, “c-can I sit with you?”

Connor looked over his shoulder at you and answered, “Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Just in time, (y/l/n),” started Jared, “I was just telling Evan and Connor my sexual adventures last night.”

“Yeah, which is total bullshit. You never get your dick wet, Kleinman. Only in your dreams does that happen,” Connor snickered.

Jared puffed out his cheek for a second before firing back, “Well at least I didn’t fuck the school’s famous teacher’s pet!”

“At least I’ve got someone to fuck, Jared. I don’t have to just sit there and jerk off like your lonely ass does,” quipped Connor.

You and Evan sat there, listening to them fire shots at each other back and forth, with red faces. What are these two, you thought embarrassedly to yourself. You could tell that Evan was thinking the same thing you were because he covered his face. After the two bickered back and forth for a good several minutes, you said, “Okay! Enough! Jared, stop fucking talking about sex! I just lost my innocence to Connor, fucking Christ knows I’m not ready to hear all about your imagined sex life!”

“You were a virgin? I always thought you lost it in like sophomore year, (y/n)!” exclaimed Jared.

Your face grew brighter, “Why would you say that?”

“Because it was going around the school. Some girl named Tessa saw you with some guy named Ryan getting it on in a stairwell.”

“Oh my God, that was my friend Beth! She doesn’t really look like a girl and definitely doesn’t act like one! She was telling me how she wanted to transition from girl to guy at some point. Why does Tessa always start this shit? People thought I smoked weed in middle school because of her. She is literally a scumbag human being.”

Jared raised his eyebrows at your words, “Well shit, (y/n), tell us how you really feel.”

You ruffled your hair and said, “I just did, J-Jared…”

“Aww, you’re stuttering is really cute,” Jared said with a wink.

You blushed and somewhat covered your face. Someone, a guy in particular, found your stuttering adorable. “Wh-what…? Y-you think so, J-Jared…?” you stuttered out, looked at him through some hair that fell into your face.

Connor looked over at you and he thought you looked really cute with your hair in your face. Without thinking, he reached over to you and tucked the lock behind your ear. When you looked over at Connor, an almost warm and loving look in his normally cold eyes. It took you by surprise. His warm hand rested on your cheek for the briefest of moments, before he snapped back into reality and pulled his hand away.

Everyone just looked at Connor. Did he just have a sweet moment? Jared’s eyes were wide and his jaw was dropped. So was Evan’s. They just stared at you and Connor for a moment. You brought your hand up to touch the cheek that had lost the warmth of Connor’s hand, a blush on your cheeks. You stuttered, “I, uh… wh-wha…? C-Con…nor…?”

He couldn’t meet your gaze, his mind had flashed back to his dream from last night and he grew embarrassed. What were you doing to him? He had asked that fucking question ever since that morning once he woke up to falling out of his bed. Connor swallowed almost audibly as he continued to look anywhere but you. WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO?! WHY DID I DO THAT?! UGH!!

“To answer your question, (y/n),” Jared began, having recollected himself. “Yes, I find your stuttering really cute. Evan does it, and I’m sure some girl finds it cute. It’s also kinda cute that you’re so shy, you really should come over to my house after school.” He winked at you and you blushed even more. “I’ll help you get rid of that anxiety real quick!”

Connor quickly shot Jared an anger glare. How dare he do that! You were just a virgin, and so too was Jared for the matter, but he watches a lot of porn so you know. That geek knows shit that you don’t; and Connor decided that he would be the one to have you. For some reason he found himself compelled by you, doing things he never did before yesterday. Things that made him question everything that he stood for.

“A-as won-wonderful as that sounds, J-Jared… I-I have some things to do with C-Connor after school,” you answered with a small smile. “M-maybe some other time.”

Evan fiddled with his food as he asked, “H-hey, (y-y/n)… some time s-soon… could you help me with… umm… with English?”

You looked at Evan and smiled sweetly at him as you answered, “O-of course I can, cutie.” That word fell from your mouth and you immediately covered your mouth and want to bang your head against the table. Did you really just say that? To Evan fucking Hansen, a guy with almost crippling social anxiety? “I-I’m sorry, Ev-Evan… i-it just came out…” you apologized.

“I-it’s okay, (y-y/n),” Evan answered, blushing slightly as well.

“B-but yeah, I will help you with English. How about this Saturday?”

Evan looked at you and nodded, “That would be great, (y/n). Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Evan. Anything for a cutie like you,” you said.

Connor allowed you to say that stuff to Evan because that boy was just a little walking anxiety disorder. Evan was a pure little bean that wasn’t a threat, but Jared fucking Kleinman? That boy was a huge threat to Connor’s claim on you, not that he saw you as a prize to be won, but Connor just wanted you to focus solely on him, and maybe Evan every once and a while. He leaned on his hand as he watched you and Evan stutter cutely (on your part) back and forth, Evan decided to start talking about his love of tree-climbing. And you seemed to be really interested in the socially anxious teen’s hobby.

Your eyes lit up as you listened to Evan talk, but they didn’t have that fire that they held when you were talking about Ancient Egypt. You did talk in a less animated fashion, clearly interested in Evan showing you his hobby.

And then, Evan told you what you were passionate about. Connor just looked at you and he saw your face light up, you beaming as you answered, “R-really? You wanna know what I’m passionate about? D-do you want to, too, J-Jared?”

“Sure, why the heck not,” answered Jared. “Tell us what passion runs through that pretty head of yours.”

Connor watched your smile get brighter as you took in a breath. “Ancient Egypt. My passion is Ancient Egypt,” you answered in a love-filled voice.

I wish she would talk about me like that, Connor thought to himself. After he thought that, he mentally kicked himself. WHAT THE FUCK?!

“Why’s Ancient Egypt so important to you?” Evan asked.

“Oh, you just opened up a can of worms I’m not sure you’re ready for, Evan,” Connor said, looking at his blond friend.

The moment you opened your mouth to begin, Connor’s eyes snapped back at you. Ever since yesterday of observing you while you talk about your passion, Connor has made it a habit of watching you with a smile as you talked. It was his guilty pleasure, watching you talk—watching the way life fluttered and swirled in your eyes.

The rest of lunch, you gave Jared and Evan a history lesson, Evan asking you questions and Jared crossing his arms due to being impressed. Honestly, he had expected you to be so well-versed in that certain period of history. It threw him for a few loops because you knew things that not even he knew. When the lunch period ended, the boys seemed rather upset. They all were interested in what you were saying, Connor seemed more happy that you were happy talking about what you loved.

Evan felt closer to you than he did earlier that day, he was smiling happily that you opened up to him. And he felt happier that he opened up to you, something about you made him feel like he could talk to him. You two even exchanged numbers and you told him to call or text him whenever he needed help or just wanted to talk. He had made another friend.

Jared was more impressed than anything. At first, he just wanted to talk to you because he thought you would give him sex, something he never had before, but now, he thought of you differently. He now saw you as a interesting girl who enjoyed teaching others of your passion, and even giving him a run of his money. Jared and you went back and forth spouting facts of Ancient Egypt, until you threw out information that he had no idea about—and then he admitted defeat.

That day after school, you again almost got run over by Connor, and then jumped into his truck. You poked your head between him and Zoe and said, “Ey, Connor, can we listen to some Marianas Trench? On my phone? Can I jack your AUX cord?”

“Umm… sure? Why the fuck not?”

Zoe threw her hands into the air, complaining, “Connor, what the fuck?! I can’t listen to my music but your girlfriend asks and you immediately cave?! EXPLAIN THAT TO ME!!”

Shrugging, Connor handed you his AUX cord that was hooked up to his newer radio (which he had stolen because his old radio was shit). “Because she’s the new bitch in the car, Zoe. Holy fuck! Your music is terrible and I personally hate it,” he answered.

“What makes you think her music is any better?!”

“Call it a hunch.”

You smiled and swiped the AUX cored from Connor’s hand and plugged it into your phone. Immediately, you went to play Marianas Trench, the first song to pop up as you put the artist on shuffle was Truth or Dare. That song made you almost choking on your spit. NOT THE FOURSOME SONG!! you thought to yourself. You almost blurted that out, but bit your tongue.

When you all got to Connor’s, you immediately jump out of the backseat of his truck and stand by his door. He got out of his car and laughed to himself, “Someone’s anxious?”

You grabbed his hand, “C’mon, let’s go to your room!”

“Whoa… you are impatient,” he said.

You looked at Connor and said, in a low voice, “I’m sorry, Connor. I w-want to get high again…”

Connor blinked at your words. “You do?” he asked.

Nodding vigorously, you answered, “Yeah! I’ve been waiting for this all day! It was fun yesterday, and if I keep doing it with you, I’ll get a tolerance and I can be more f-fun to be around! B-because I don’t s-stutter when I’m high. I-I only stammer when something weird happens.”

“Have you been thinking about this all day?”

“Maybe… and maybe you’re just the only guy I wanna get high with…”

Connor’s mouth opened a bit and he gasped, “Ooh…kay… yeah, let’s go get high.” You smiled and followed him to his room. Zoe oohed and said not to fuck, to which Connor quipped rudely at her, “None of your fucking business if we do or not, bitch.”

About 30 minutes later, you and Connor were high. Your mind bounced back to the offer Connor made yesterday. You and Connor were laying on his bed, you splayed out across Connor’s bed and your head was once again on his stomach. “H-hey, Connor?” you asked in a groggy voice, looking up at him.

Looking down at you, Connor answered you, “Yeah, you fucking dork?”

“I-I wanna learn some shit,” you said.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he responded, “What kind of shit?”

You blushed and muttered, “Y’know… li-like kissing and possibly… sex…?”

Oh, that made Connor sit up, your head plopping into his lap. “Oh, fuck. Are you fucking serious?” He was looking directly into your eyes as he asked you that.

Looking up into his eyes, you nodded, muttering a small, “Y-yeah…”

“What fucking happened to getting to know each other first, eh, teacher’s pet?” he asked with a smile.

You shrugged, looking away from him, “We can do that while we fool around, can’t we, Con?”

Connor laughed to himself as he said, “You’re pretty bad for a damn teacher’s pet.”

A wolfish grin made its way across your face as you sat up. “No I’m not,” you began. “I just do anything to learn. So,” you placed a hand on Connor’s clothed chest, “are you ready to teach me?”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t that make you MY little teacher’s pet?” he asked, gently grabbed your chin and made you look into his eyes.

You flash a devious smile as you said, “Guess it would… you ready for that, Connor Murphy?”

Connor took a moment to think about it. You being his teacher’s pet would be interesting—you’d have to do anything for him and it honestly set his nerves ablaze. His mind came up with some kinky shit that he could make you do. Oh, it was juicy and he loved it. With another smile, Connor shrugged, pulling your face close to his. “Fuck it, why not,” he said against your lips before pulling you into a kiss. “First lesson, kissing. Kiss me like you would kiss your crush, (y/n).”

You blushed and thought if only Connor knew your crush was him. But, not wanting to disappoint your teacher, you threw your arms around his neck, a hand getting tangled in his hair. And damn did you kiss Connor with such passion, and wished your feelings would be conveyed in the kiss.

This would be a really fun time—learning stuff from your crush. But how long could you keep this up without your feelings coming to light? Eh, you didn’t care if you did let your feeling slip, you were just happy to be kissing Connor like you were. Because that kiss was different from the one from last night, this one had several emotions swirling in it.

And both you and Connor absolutely loved it.

Connor was not expecting you to be kissing the way you were and he decided to continue, “Okay, now we move on to making out.” Your heart stopped and a gasp fell from your lips. Connor took the opportunity to slither his tongue into your mouth.

The moment his tongue touched yours, you let out an involuntary moan in the back of your throat and your hand pulled at his hair. When the deepest groan came from him as a result of you pulling his hair, you swore to whatever God sent this man to you that you would praise them if this continued. Because you did not want this to stop.

You felt something poking your thigh (since you were sitting in Connor’s lap), and it was kind of uncomfortable. Therefore, trying to make yourself more comfortable, you shift, unintentionally grind into Connor.

And holy shit, the moan he emitted had you weak in every sense. You mind was frazzled, you wanted to hear more of Connor’s moans—when they weren’t muffled by a kiss. Oh fuck me, god damn it, fuuuck. I need Connor. Please, whatever God got me this far, let me go farther. I am begging, you thought to yourself.

Reluctantly, Connor pulled away from the kiss for air. He gasped and laid his head on your shoulder. “S-shit, dork,” he said, clearly out of breath.

“W-what is it, Connor?” you asked, also out of breath. You shifted your hips again.

This time you heard his moan and by God, your stomach churned. “F-fuck, stop fucking moving, dork.”

“But there’s something poking me,” you said.

“Jesus fucking Christ, dork… you’re such a dumbass sometimes,” Connor laughed.

You almost panicked, “D-did I hurt you or something?”

“No, far from it, dork. You, um, fucking aced kissing and making out.”

“Hm? T-then what is poki—” you shifted again and he once again moaned. It was then that it clicked, “oh… I, uh, I get it… I’ll ge-get off you.” You climbed out of his lap and sat beside you.

Connor was short of breath, and he combed a hand through his hair. “Holy fucking shit, dork…” he muttered, calming himself down.

“S-sorry…” you muttered.

Snapping his gaze to you, Connor said, “Oh, no, no! Fuck, there’s nothing to apologize for, dork. That’s good that you got me excited!” Or really bad, because I think in the two days we’ve been talking, I’ve found myself insanely attracted to you. Like what the fuck is wrong with me!! I am Connor fucking Murphy and here I am being turned into a pile of mush because of some teacher’s pet!

You combed some hair out of your face, as you answered, “R-really?”

“Do I fucking lie?”

Chucking giddily, you looked out Connor’s window. “N-no… you usually speak your mind…”

Connor smiled softly at you, having calmed himself down. “Exactly. Now, do you want some food or not?”

“UM, YES? IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION, CONNOR?!” you said loudly, almost jumping off his bed. Connor laughed and got off his bed, walking to his door and leading you downstairs. “Can I have a triple-stuffed grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Oh my god, what the fuck are you, seven?” laughed Connor,

“Yes, actually,” you joked. Connor rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen and started to make you your food. You sat at the table and watched Connor as he fixed your food. You saw the way he took special care of preparing your food, like he actually cared. And that made you happy.

TAGS: @defenestrate-yourself-please @saturdayschilddrivesmewild @hamilton-canyouimagine

I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS PART!!! LIKE UGH!!!!

#connor murphy x reader #connor murphy #connor murphy imagine #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen x reader #dear evan hansen imagine #jared kleinman #jared kleinman imagine #evan hansen #evan hansen imagine #zoe murphy

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askaphmaine · 7 years ago

Text

“With that, that’s the end of the meeting. I hope everyone will be prepared for next time. We have a lot more to talk about.” With that statement from D.C., another long capital meeting was over. Monty groaned, shoving his ‘paperwork’ and ‘notes’ into his bag. Most of the papers were simply scribbled on, so he would appear as if he cared. A couple had drawings, simple pencil sketches of what had been happening, D.C. yelling at everyone to shut up, Concord making and throwing paper airplanes, Augusta pointedly avoiding everyone by hiding under the table, anything interesting.

“Oh, Montpelier~!”

‘Ah, shit.’ Just the person he didn’t want to see. He liked Los Angeles, he really did. She was stunning, with dark golden hair curling around her shoulders and deep blue eyes, not unlike a lake or the ocean. The problem was her flirting. She seemed to enjoy his discomfort, taking every opportunity to jump on him, occasionally even kissing his cheek. While some may have enjoyed the attention, for someone used to four wheeling and mudding, it was overkill to an extreme. The worst part, though, was her comments.

“You know, you’d look so much nicer in a suit! Or anything out of that disgusting plaid. You should let me take you shopping!” Like that one. He couldn’t understand how she thought those kind of comments were okay. He liked his shirt, it had been a gift from his brother. Sure, it was a bit worn but it fit fine and was warm. And he would never wear a suit. Never. “U-um, Montpeli-?”

Maybe storming off wasn’t his best idea. Maybe flipping L.A. the bird wasn’t either. Regardless, Monty didn’t stick around to see the aftermath of his actions. He had soda to drink and cars to work on. He didn’t have time to deal with western drama. Sadly, it seemed to be finding its way to him.

“Okay, I get it. She pissed you off. But you and I both know she didn’t mean it like that, asshole. Now I’m getting dragged into your lovers-spat.” Concord hissed, glaring at the other capital. Montpelier stayed under the truck, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not a damn lovers-spat. Just toss me my fucking wrench and shut it, dude. She’s old enough to deal with the consequences.” A dull thud hit the area to the left of Monty’s head. “Thank you.” A sigh followed.

“Alright, listen. I understand she gets on your nerves. I really do. But you literally made her cry. Maybe you should explain what pissed you off so much. It might make things-” Loud clanging interrupted Concord’s nagging. Monty slid out from his work.

“Explain? EXPLAIN? YOU DON’T THINK I’VE TRIED? SHE LITERALLY IGNORES ME.”

“Dude, stop yellin-”

“NO! SHE ACTS ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY JUST BECAUSE SHE’S BASICALLY RICH AND THINKS SHE CAN WALTZ INTO MY LIFE AND COMMAND ME TO CHANGE? SHE DOESN’T WANT ME, SHE WANTS A LITTLE BOY TOY SHE CAN ABANDON ONCE SHE GETS BORED.”

“You’re crying.”

“Fuck.” A soft sob. “Off.”

“Yeah, no can do. Like it or not, you’re part of Northern New England. You’re stuck with me.” Concord wrapped an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “We’re family, like it or not. I know she doesn’t listen. But here’s my plan, okay? Trust me, it’s a doozy.”

::A couple days later::

Silence. Never had L.A. felt more uncomfortable. Monty was acting odd, showing no emotion. After what had happened, she had begun to think he was avoiding her before she got a text asking for them to meet up. She wasn’t expecting an apology from him at all but she also certainly wasn’t expecting him to be emotionless and cold.

“You need to stop.” Monotone. A small shiver went up her spine. She only ever heard stories about the people who fit this description, the ‘Mainers’ as they were called. They were only a state away from him, though...

“Stop...what?” She winced at how small she sounded. She was one of the largest cities in America!

“Acting like a lovesick idiot. Grabbing me. Kissing my cheeks. The flirting and the attempts to command me need to stop.” Com…mand? She could understand the ‘lovesick’ part but when had she ever tried to… Oh. Slowly everything clicked. Her comments on his clothing and his pastimes. He felt like she was trying to control him.

“I’m...sorry. I never meant...Nevermind. I’ll stop. I swear on everything I own, I’ll stop.”

::Later::

“Connor, you’re a genius. How did you know acting like those three would work?”

“I’ve spent enough time with the Mainers to know it’s an act and how they manage to do it. All it takes is some practice. I am glad to hear that it worked!”

“Yeah, she promised on everything she owns that she’d stop. I don’t think I’ve been this relieved in ages!” Monty’s grin widened. “It’s like a weight has been lifted!”

“I’m glad for you. I really am. Now, where were we on the truck?”

::Elsewhere::

“Um, hey, Izzy? Can we, like, talk?” Braids swayed slightly as the capital of California glanced up.

“Sure, Liz. How did the talk with Montpelier go?”

“See, that’s the problem.”

“…I see. Well tell me all about it.”

“For starters, you know the stories of the Maine Trio Allison will tell us?” A nod. “Well, that’s how he was acting. Cold, emotionless, distant, you name it. He fit the tale perfectly.” Sacramento gasped. Montpelier had never acted like that before. “Exactly. But that’s not the real problem. He thought I was being…controlling. I didn’t mean to be but you know. I guess I came across as someone trying to change him and he didn’t take it well. Problem is, I have no idea how else to talk to him? But then I had an idea!”

“Oh no. Lizzy, please tell me you’re not thinking what I’m thinking.”

“Please?”

::Another time skip because I am the worst::

Normally, Monty was left alone outside of meetings and his fellow New Englanders. He had woken up as normal, ate breakfast, the entire works, all without interruption, even from his older brother. His pajamas, a t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, got to stay on for once. Normally he had to be ready for anything with Liam and that included being dressed and ready for a hike.

Then he heard the doorbell. No one, not even his ‘family’ visited this early. They all had things to do and they all understood that the Vermont Mounties did not like dealing with anyone besides each other before noon. A glance at the stove clock told him it was only 8 am, four hours before the barrier was lifted. There were only three options. One was that Liam got locked out and was either drunk or hungover. The second was an emergency. Third, some flatlander was annoying him. Monty didn’t even want to think it was the third.

The world loved proving him wrong. Apparently, either karma or fate hated him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took in the sight before him. L.A. in a ponytail was cute, sure. But the muddy jean cut-off shorts, torn plaid-like shirt, and baseball cap 3 sizes too big really didn’t suit her. He didn’t even have the energy to produce the ‘Mainer’ personality. Hell, he didn’t even have the energy to listen as she tried speaking about trucks. Something about…mud driving? He held the bridge of his nose, leaning on the doorframe.

“L.A. stop. It’s 8 in the morning.” Silence. “I’m too tired for this whole ‘interaction’ thing and would really prefer to just eat my breakfast in peace.”

“Oh…sorry. I guess I must be annoying, huh.” He felt a sigh escape. She sounded so sad. Why did she have to act like this? As cute as it was, she looked incredibly awkward, tugging on the odd clothing.

“Listen, no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to visit Vermont and I until 12pm.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“

“If you annoy me, I’m kicking you out. No second chances.” A soft ‘huh?’ floated to his ears. “Look, you’re lucky it’s fall. It may not get cold in your part of the country but here? You’ll freeze in that. I also doubt you’ve eaten. Not to mention you look ready to burn that outfit. Just get inside, you can borrow some of my clothes. They may be big, but at least they’re clean. And actually cover you.” He shoved himself up, not even glancing behind him to see if she was following. The door closed, though he didn’t hear any footsteps. “Just take your shoes off and follow me.”

Silently, she listened, much to his shock. He had to admit, he was expecting resistance. It didn’t really hit him what was happening until he was standing in his room, looking for clothes. “You’ll have to wear some sweatpants, nothing else I own will fit you. Any complaints?” He questioned, glancing at her. A shake of the head. “Good. Here, try these.” With that, he tossed her a pair of gray sweats, a black shirt, and a plaid button up. “You’ll want to wear all of it. It’s cold.” Monty didn’t hang around, vanishing downstairs to the kitchen. It took a couple of minutes for L.A. to reappear, keeping her head down. Monty was a bit pleased she kept the ponytail.

“I’m sorry for showing up and making you feel like you had to help me.” He felt himself groan.

“Listen, just sit. This batch will be done soon. And trust me, someone showing up at my door first thing in the morning does not make me want to help them.” He could hear the sharp intake. “Alright, I don’t have the energy for the ‘Maine’ thing, so just listen. I get you’re trying to connect with me for whatever reason. I’m not that dumb. While you may have gone about it in an awful way-“

“I should’ve listened to Izzy…” He paused at the whisper.

“I have no clue who ‘Izzy’ is but yeah. You really should’ve. Not that it was offensive. Just obnoxious. Do you remember what my point was during our meeting?”

“You felt like I was trying to control you. I promised I’d stop but here I am…”

“Yea- What?” Confused, Monty turned, setting a plate in front of the blonde.

“Was I…wrong?”

“Uh, yeah? I never said anything about control. I said you were- oh.” Silence. Slowly, he sat across from her, staring at his plate. Placing his elbows on either side, he dropped his face into his hands. Here he thought it was over. “I didn’t mean you were controlling me. Trust me, Vermont tries to all the time.”

“Then what was I doing?” The almost begging tone nearly got him to lift his head. Nearly.

“You were trying to change me. Even if you didn’t mean to, you were. I’m not a suit and tie kind of person. I’m not into fashion, I actually couldn’t care less. Vermont and I are outdoorsy guys who wear a lot of plaid. We go mudding- wait, is that what you meant by mud driving?” He looked up, shaking his head. He pressed him palms into his cheeks. “Never mind. We go mudding, hiking, and hunting. I fix cars and trucks for fun. I’m not someone like what you’re used to, L.A.” For the first time, he looked her right in the eyes. “I’m not a toy you can dress up. I’m not interested.”

“Can…Can I speak?”

“Sure.”

“I never…I never meant to come across like that. My comments, though out of line, were meant to mean that you’d look great in one of those outfits. I never thought of forcing you to wear any. I never…” With a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Monty blinked. He hadn’t realized he had been staring. “I never saw you as some sort of ‘toy’. In fact, you remind me of Izzy and Nathan- I mean, Sacramento and Northern California. I guess I got caught up thinking you’d react to the comments the same way they do. But they grew up with SoCal and I. They’re used to it and know we don’t really mean it. I’m very sorry for coming across that way.” She slowly opened her eyes, keeping her head down. For a couple of minutes, the two of them sat there, L.A. picking at the pancakes and Monty watching her.

“Alright. And the lovesick attitude? I doubt you treat your family that way.” If anyone asked, both would swear to the grave that L.A. didn’t blush. L.A. to keep her image. Monty to keep the ability to see it to himself. The stuttering only helped further the redness. “I see. Well, it should be noted that I hated the outfit you wore here.”

“I, uh, kinda figured…”

“Good, so let me make one think clear. Changing someone for someone else is stupid. And that ‘someone’ includes yourself. So, we both know you know nothing about trucks, mudding, ect. What do you enjoy? Besides fashion, I mean.”

“Well, I can, like, surf. Even in heels.”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere. That’s an actually interesting fact. What about movie-“

“I am literally Hollywood. I know all the easter eggs, the classics, everything.” She scooted closer, a gleam in her eyes. Monty smirked.

“Oh? Well, then we have something in common. I just so happen to have a movie collection. Shall we pick through it?”

“You. Are. On.” Lizzy practically launched herself from the chair, food all but forgotten. Monty chuckled, grabbing both plates. Might as well eat as they watch, right? “Oh, and Montpeli-“

“Just call me Monty.”

“Alright, Monty. I just wanted to tell you to call me Lizzy.”

“Deal.”

“Dude, you have BeetleJuice? Guess what we’re watching first!”

“I mean, it was filmed here in Vermont. We have a system. ‘Filmed in A New England State’, ‘Takes Place in a New England State’, and ‘Other’. 13 different groups, some overlap. Maine’s are best viewed around Halloween.”

“Oh, please. Carrie is a classic and is perfect for viewing year round. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar.”

Hours later, Liam staggered up the steps to his home. He wasn’t drunk but he was tired. The trip to Mass left him exhausted. Dealing with Mass left him exhausted. Opening the door, he faintly heard the sounds of a movie. It sounded like the selection screen, though he had to doubt this. There was no way Monty would just leave a movie running, not even for food. Slowly, he crept towards the entrance to the shared living room. Sneaking a glance in, he saw a lump under a blanket, larger than his brother would be. Carefully moving closer, he took note of all the food bowls scattered around. Once he reached the sofa, he saw something he knew he’d hold over Monty for a while. Curled up, fast asleep, was Monty and a girl. But not any girl, oh no. Los Angeles herself was curled up on his chest, slumbering peacefully. ‘My little brother, off falling in love with a westerner.’ Liam thought, leaning over to pull the blanket up further. It was going to be a cold night. A smile found its way onto Liam’s lips as he glanced down at the two. Tugging at Monty’s was a soft smile of his own.

#aph los angeles #aph Montpelier #fanfic post #wow this got LONG #warning this is 6 pages on google docs #at 12 point font normal spacing #aph montpelier #lospelier

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gontagokuhara · 8 years ago

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me and @thisiswhatmylifeamountsto created a boyfriend for jared kleinman and here he is

lgbtrucy: idea: jared has the Biggest crush on one of his online gamer friends and while literally Everyone is aware hes gay (he told them all himself he wants them all to Know) he would rather die than admit he likes this online friendconnor finds out by accident. it turns wild

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Dude yes ((((((GAYmer friend)))))))) Nope you

*Nope you’re committed to this now - how does Connor find out?

lgbtrucy: and i feel like jared has connor and evan over around his place and theyre playing something online and jared’s friend comes on and jared’s immediately like “evan give the controller to connor i cant look like my friends are bad at video games"and connor is like >:) whats this

and he isnt horrible at video games, he just doesnt rly care about them (and jared Knows This) so when connor starts playing the worst he’s ever played jared is pissed

lgbtrucy: “connor what the hell man, you’re making me look like shit, knock it off!!”

evan eventually catches on and he and connor just start. making the fuck out in the middle of the game and jared has to get his headset on and apologize to his friend

“dude im so sorry my co-op is making out with his boyfriend IN MY ROOM, WHICH IS REALLY FUCKING WEIRD CONNOR, anyways sorry but hes the only one here that can play w me”

lgbtrucy: and connor is a smug asshole so hes like “oh who you talking to jared??” and jared goes red as hell and is like “no one just a friend online—you Were playing against him until you started fucking evan on my bedroom floor”

and the tiniest, giggliest “hot” comes from the headset and In That Moment, evan and connor pledge themselves to hooking jared up w this mysterious gamer boy who is so obviously perfect for jared

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: THIS IS SO GOOD IM CACKLING AND CRYING Please tell me more about the adventures of Jared and mysterious gamer boy

lgbtrucy: ok So jared and mystery boy

lgbtrucy: his name is elliot, he’s half-korean, and i love him

lgbtrucy: hes goofy and more conventionally funny as opposed to jared, who’s funny by being kind of mean and using crude humor

lgbtrucy: anyways later on, evan is over at connor’s house and they break out connor’s scarcely-used xbox and send a friend request to elliot

once theyre friends, they sort of keep up appearences for a little while, playing games with him and eventually moving into text chatting and talking on headsets (connor had to spend $50 on a new headset. he was not pleased)

lgbtrucy: and one day they not-so-casually let slip the fact that they were “the guys who were fucking on jared’s floor” (evan nearly choked when elliot said that) and elliot is like !! “no way!! you guys are friends with jared?”

lgbtrucy: and because evan is a #good friend hes talking jared up “oh yeah jared is like my best friend, he’s so funny and cool and really good at video games” and elliots just “yeah, i know right” all dreamily and connor + evan know their plan is gonna Work

lgbtrucy: and connor says “maybe you two should meet up or something, i heard theres a convention or whatever near here this weekend” and elliot is like “!!heck yeah i just gotta ask my mom”

lgbtrucy: fastforward to the con: connor and evan are being dragged around by jared while he shows off excitedly but he suddenly halts when connor calls out, “hey, elliot.”

lgbtrucy: and jared doesnt know what elliot looks like. he doesnt know that its him officially. the only reason connor and evan know is bc they traded numbers and selfies so they could find each other

and elliot yells back “hey connor! hey evan!” and jared Knows because he knows his voice and he is ready to Die and break evan’s other arm

lgbtrucy: because evan Knows hes gay and even if he would rather cut off his own foot than admit he actually Likes elliot, evan knew that he thought really highly of him and What The Fuck evan???

lgbtrucy: and elliot approaches and looks at jared all smiles and asks him “jared?” and jared just kind of dazedly nods and elliot Lights Up and hugs him (jared nearly collapses) and is like “oh my god man im so excited to meet you!!!! i was looking forward to this all week since evan and connor told me about this!!!” and jared gives them A Look but hes lowkey happy

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Honestly this was all I ever wanted wow

lgbtrucy: so the four of them walk around the con, connor and evan kinda trailing behind because elliot is talking to jared about the mechanics behind some game they both like and how calculating the math of it made him really good, and it helps him w his adhd, and theyre all happy and gay(jared gets elliots number later)(and the rest is history) in conclusion im very passionate about jared and his gamer bf

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: That was beautiful I also applaud your dedication I am also v passionate about Jared and his gamer boyfriend tbh

lgbtrucy: #givejaredaboyfriend2k17

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Now that is a cause I can get behind I’m kinda laughing at imagining gamer bf finding out about jared’s obsession with bath bombs

lgbtrucy: jared whispers “love the cronch” and everyone else loses it but elliot is just ?? “what????”

lgbtrucy: its explained to him and more than anything hes confused about why he would waste a $10 bath bomb by eating it

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Honestly so am I Wtf Jared But just think about Connor embarrassing Jared as much as possible

Because like He’s done the nice bit by getting them to meet And now he can be a little shit

lgbtrucy: “dear elliot cho we’ve been way too out of touch life has been crazy and it sucks that we dont talk that much. but i should tell you that i think of you each night; i rub my nipples and start moaning in delight” “CONNOR WHAT THE F U C K NO”

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: I’M CRYING NO I CAN’T THAT WORKS SO WELL

lgbtrucy: while jared is Suffering elliot is just delighted at how cute he is “dont be embarrassed man its cute!!”

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: ((((((Dammit why am I so attached to this fictional fictional character))))) Also On the list of things I want for no particular reason Alana + Elliot brotp

lgbtrucy: YES they both talk a lot but theyre both very on par with each other intelligence wise so it balances out??

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Yes yes yes

They do that thing where they both speak over each other a lot but they’re both happy because they’re enjoying what they’re talking about Plus Elliot is the one who gets her to call her friends her friends instead of her acquaintances

lgbtrucy: ye hes a good influence on everybody but everybody is Not a good influence on him

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Tell me more?

lgbtrucy: connor gets him high and he nearly drowns himself trying to race connor in a swimming contest

lgbtrucy: jared fucks his sense of humor for good. everytime someone mentions the word “dick” he laughs for ten minutes straigh

tzoe convinces him to dye his hair baby pink. she messes up the dying process and he ends up with electric pink hair

evan and alana are the only good influences

tbhthisiswhatmylifeamountsto: So far he’s got bright pink hair, laughing at dicks and drowning Amazing ((((OK but Jared being a little shit all the time But when Elliot thinks he’s going to far He gives Jared a look Like a LOOK And Jared is sort of like Oh shit OK That was pretty fucked up Sorry))))

lgbtrucy: yes!! he uses that look a Lot when connor and jared are in the same room

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Oh yeah definitely But one time Jared, Connor, Elliot and Evan are together for a while And Elliot doesn’t have to use the look once And he’s really damn impressed

lgbtrucy: jared gets an extra round of smorches. jared decides he likes that better than fucking w connor

thisiswhatmylifeamountstoYes But Connor is really confused??? Because like Sure Jared’s better with Elliot But suddenly he’s a downright angel??? And it’s weird But one day when Connor is feeling like shit Jared genuinely helps him out And Connor doesn’t care what happened It happened And it’s good

lgbtrucy: they still fuck w each other but its more lighthearted

nowthisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Like more “Hey I’m kinda being mean to you but it’s ok because we both know we love each other But in a heterosexual way Because we would never date Ever No Stop thinking about it"

Honestly Elliot sometimes questioned whether he should wonder if Jared was cheating on him but he A) trusted Jared B) could see how in love Connor was with Evan

lgbtrucy: he realizes even tho theyre being nicer to each other they could never date. they get caught at evans house together when a bad storm hits and they have to stay overnight and by the time they leave theyre beginning to go at each others throats so. no chemistry there

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Accurate Wait crap what about the Evan + Elliot brotp

lgbtrucy: they get along rly well honestly theyre good influences

elliot has adhd so he Knows how it feels when things become too much nd they can bond over similar experiences

lgbtrucy: good friends 10/10 would brotp

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: I feel like their friendship is really pure Like half the time their conversations are just a bunch of compliments thrown at each other? Honestly I’m convinced that Elliot is my fave and this is really bad

lgbtrucy: elliot is the unproblematic fave

he just likes video games and his friends and his bf

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: ok but Elliot not having any close friends He’s that guy who chats to everyone but has noone to confide in etc And then he finds some online But it’s still not the same And suddenly he has five??? And like They all really like him Like obviously he knew Jared And he got to know Connor and Evan But Zoe and Alana love him too And I’m just such trash for this au wow

lgbtrucy: ELLIOT LOVES ALL OF HIS BEST FRIENDS

when someone asks who his bff is he cant choose"oh man i dont know!! i love all my friends the same theyre all really great” (crying boyfriend sounds in the distance)

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Honestly every time Elliot does something really sweet/pure/nice Jared cannot handle it At all Because !!!! MY !!!!!!!! BOYFRIEND !!!!! HE’S SO CUTE But going back to drunk Jared Imagine drunk Jared with sober Elliot

lgbtrucy: "HI DID YOU KNOW I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND ELLIOT HES REALLY NICE AND CUTE AND R ES LLY GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES”

lgbtrucy: “o….oh really?” elliot is dying blushing at this point

“YEA HES REALLY GOOD DID YOU KNOW HE USES MATH AND SHIT TO PLAY VIDEO GAMES? IT SOUNDS LAME BUT HES RESLLY GOOD. AND ALSO VERY CUTE DID I MENTION I LOVE MY BOYFRIEJD HIS NAME IS ELLIOT”

someone (probably connor or zoe) is recording at this point. evan is near tears lauging. elliot is In Love

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: When Jared watches the video in the morning he gets really nervous because he hasn’t seen Elliot that morning But when he does “So I hear you have a boyfriend named Elliot and he’s really cute? Interestingly enough I have a boyfriend named Jared’s who’s really cute - look how much we have in common” And Jared dies

lgbtrucy: DHSHSHS YES THATS SO CUTE (connor posts the video. it goes semi-viral. jared dies for a different reason)

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: (Jared moans that he’s lost all of his street cred Nobody has the heart to tell him he never had any in the first place) OK but how often do Jared and Elliot so they’re going on a date And then the next day everyone finds out the ‘date’ consisted of beating each other at every single video game either of them owned

lgbtrucy: elliot is always swooning over these “super romantic” dates and everyone is like ??? jared?? ROMANTIC??? and its a big thing trying to find out just what jared and elliot do

turns out these romantic dates are playing video games for 10 hours and then going to mcdonalds at 3 am and sharing a milkshake

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Like when they find out everybody sort of wonders why they expected anything else

They met in person at a con through a shared love for video games after about three months of planning because neither of them wanted to make a move

lgbtrucy: elliot, unironically: jared is the most romantic person in the world everyone: that sounds fake but ok

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: But I feel like Jared would be a really attentive bf Like he actually pays attention to what’s going on in Elliot’s life Like the day he has a big exam he has everything 100% prepared to congratulate him/cheer him up depending on how it went

lgbtrucy: hes a really good bf but only like…..secretly. he has to keep up his Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman appearance

physical affection is where he hesitates tho hes v awkward with holding hands/kissing/cuddling. elliot has to initiate all of it

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: Elliot so called him that once to make fun of him but it’s stuck now and they can’t get Jared to stop coming into a room announcing himself as the INSANELY COOL JARED KLEINMAN

Elliot felt awkward about it first because he wasn’t sure whether Jared was comfortable with it and he didn’t want to make Jared feel bad But then they have a long, way-overdue talk and work out how things are gonna work

lgbtrucy: its not from a lack of interest that jared doesnt initiate it he just. where do u put ur hands. is it weird to just kiss ur bf randomly. fuck evan was right hands DO get sweaty abd [panic alarm] but as soon as elliot touches him hes like “nice” and is totally into it

thisiswhatmylifeamountsto: OK honestly I’m so sad that Elliot doesn’t exist he’s literally Jared’s ideal boyfriend this is such a travesty

lgbtrucy: make elliot famous

THE ELLIOT PROJECT

except its me posting at 2 am about how much i love him

#long post /#holy fuck #deh #dear evan hansen #jared kleinman #elliot cho #PLEASE LOVE ELLIOT CHO IM LOVE HIM SM #kleincho #ocs

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