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shy-violet-soul · 4 years ago

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Stuff You Should Be Reading - June/July 2020

Here we go, folks! Early summer’s beautiful batch of great reading. Enjoy!

Supernatural

When the Lights Go Out by @jawritter: this AU featuring Mobster!Dean Winchester x reader is off to a great start! Reader is in dire financial straits, & signs up to be a Sugar Baby on a website with a “no sex” understanding. She has no idea who her customer truly is - one of the most notorious mobsters out there. Can’t wait to read more!

The Honorary Winchester by @fictionalabyss: this is a sequel to this writer’s phenomenal series “The Arrangement”. Elizabeth’s only goal is to be a Winchester - her family is delighted to make that happen. This story has all the fluffy goodness of TFW with a wee one, and all the shenanigans that ensue.

My precious friend @pinknerdpanda has churned out some pure artistry. Reunited is a tale about Sam Winchester after he’s lost Dean. But his journey leads him to find something else very precious - someone! Wonderful angsty goodness!

Pros and Cons by @kittenofdoomage. This writing goddess never fails to deliver. This steamy but fluffy tale features very short reader living life with very tall Sam. LOVED it!

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons: Dean Winchester & his other half expecting a baby. Need I say more to tempt you with all the sweet fluff?!

The Depth of Ebony by @katymacsupernatural: TFW has captured a hell hound - but not all is at it seems. Can they discover the truth behind this tortured creature? This series is phenomenal, and I can’t wait to read more!

Marvel

Psuedo Princess by @shreddedparchment King Steven of Broklin has taken a new bride, one willing to sacrifice and serve for the good of the kingdom. The road to true love is rocky for these two - can they overcome the obstacles? Beautiful story!

Smoke and Ink by my gorgeous friend @thesassywallflower. This slightly AU features ofc Anne being asked by old childhood friend, Thor, to help him save Loki. Old tender feelings compete with a painful past between the two - will fates align to bring them together? I am HERE for this series!

The Little Spy by @buckysknifecollection features post-Raft-rescue Steve Rogers and company on the hunt for sanctuary. His friends are astonished at the refuge waiting for them - more specifically, for him. Precious story that I’d love to see more of!

All My Friends are Heathens by @sebseyesandbuckysthighs: we have been blessed with a ton of great AUs lately, and this one is fantastic. Vampire!Bucky Barnes has taken refuge with his friend, Shapeshifter!Steve Rogers, amid his group of ragtag creature friends. When a member of their ‘family’ returns home, Bucky finds himself enchanted. The skill employed here to build to the climax is so, so good. You’ll love this!

Black and Blue by @the-mighty-jellybean: **Trigger Warnings** Read those before reading! This powerful AU gives us Doctor!Steve Rogers crossing paths with a domestic abuse victim that he can’t get off his mind. Great, great story.

Not Your Forever by @navybrat817: Steve Rogers left you behind, breaking your heart. When he returns, how will you respond? How will he when he sees how you moved on? I really super duper hope that the writer writes more of this!!!

Dance of Destiny by @after-avenging-hours: I looooove soul mate fics! This one is so beautifully creative! You can feel when your soul mate is dancing. So why hasn’t Reader ever felt hers?

@angrythingstarlight: I just discovered this writer, and her RPF Chris Evans fics are GOLD! As the auntie to 4 kiddos, this writer had me wheezing with her very true-to-form kid repartees with Chris. “Imma steal your doggy” (dying!). A few of these fics center around Reader out with her two nieces that are conspiring to get her on a date with Chris. Or, according to her nieces, ‘Captain America’ and ‘Dodger’s daddy’.

The Pack by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork is another great AU giving us shifter/wolf Steve Rogers. When a lost omega stumbles into his pack’s lives, Alpha Steve & his wolf find themselves falling for her tail over teakettle. Be sure to also read the drabbles that go along with the series!

Glimmer by @kentuckybarnes: Bucky Barnes and Reader awaken with no memory of how they got there, why they are there, or even who they are. This writer keeps the momentum going with plenty of quips amid the stress of their situation. Can’t wait to read more!

Cupcake Guy by @nacho-bucky: AU of soldier Bucky Barnes struggling to carve a post-war life for himself. Comforting memories prompt him to give baking a try, where he meets you. Will you help Bucky open his heart to hope for the future? Sugary sweet writing perfection!

Just us Two, also by @nacho-bucky: adorable fic that pits Sam Wilson against cute, quirky, stubborn, hangry you. LOVED!

Caught in the Fire by @dreamwritesimagines is another incredible AU where reader comes back into Mobster!Bucky’s life just when he needs her most. I’m behind on reading, but this writer never fails to impress.

@stargazingfangirl18 gives us a tenderly, beautifully written fic you can find HERE about a friend of the Avengers struggling with anxiety/panic attacks. Will she let her friends help her? ***Trigger Warnings*** discussion of anxiety, panic attacks.

The Weight by @sunriserose1023 Steve Rogers is hiding something. He has a good reason, but his struggle between duty and devotion may get him in trouble.

Solivagant by @captain-kelli: LOVED this story! Bucky Barnes is sent to what he thinks will be a frozen wasteland on a mission. Instead, he discovers more beauty than he can imagine.

Hello, Bird by @welldonebeca: there is not enough Clint Barton fics out there, and this two-part story is a great remedy for this. Sweet, fluffy fic featuring our favorite archer with his family.

Call of the Mountains by @floatingpetals: gorgeously creative AU! When reader is rescued from almost certain death, her saviour is so much more than meets the eye. What is the mysterious Bucky, Steve, and their little group hiding?

I Carry Your Heart With Me by @marvelcapsicle: another phenomenal soul mate fic FTW! In this one, soul mates can feel each other’s pain. But what happens when one of you can’t feel pain at all?

Finding Home by @promarvelfangirl: let me say now that I categorically do not like Hallmark movies. But this delightfully tender story leans into the trope so beautifully! Soldier!Steve Rogers receives a Christmas card while deployed overseas, and it becomes a lifeline for him. What happens when he meets the friendly, compassionate writer?

Sunset by @pinknerdpanda: sweetie, you did it again. Gorgeous, poetic writing about reader returned from the Snap to a world that left her behind. Beautiful!

Bring Him Light by @speechlessxx: AU giving us King Steven Rogers with a new bride. Scary stories are told about the cruel king. Can reader soften his heart? FYI - some chapters are tough reading due to themes. Well written story that I’m looking forward to future chapters!

The Taste of Blood by @the--sad--hatter: 3 words: I want more! This tantalizing AU will feature vampire!Bucky Barnes and reader. The first chapter gives us the reader who feels compelled to leave her life behind - again - as she flees an unknown-to-us danger.

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jenniferxprentiss · 4 years ago

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You Are In Love

Chapter Two- Coffee At Midnight

read on ao3 here, listen to the song here

hi! Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this chapter! It’s very angsty, and I hope it hurts you as good as it hurts me. Remember - slow burns are the best when they sting!

tagging the few peeps I remembered who wanted on a tag list - I’ll make a formal tag list request post within the next day or so! @f-m27 @heat-waveee @whiskey-fluent @garcias-batcave @jjsgirlfriend @davidrossi-ismydad @good-heavens-chris-evans @dont-trustyourfeelings

I’m listing a very soft TW for abortion- they discuss Emily’s canon abortion, very light conversation, not a ton of detail. if you wish, and it triggers you, I can send you an abbreviated version of the chapter leaving out the abortion talk <3 I want you all to feel comfy!

anyways, if you want to review, please do! Please?

The silence between them was thick and full of unspoken questions, Emily’s expression blank and unreadable. JJ wanted to cry again, bottom lip ensnared between her teeth. She looked at Emily with a heartbreakingly sad expression, trying desperately to read her.

After a moment, Emily let out a breathy chuckle, blinking rapidly in shock. She raised her eyebrows, cocking her head as she tried to read JJ’s expression and understand exactly why this was a sad thing.

“I’m...wow, Jayje, that’s amazing!” When JJ’s expression contorted to one of sadness, Emily backtracked. “Or maybe it’s not? You’ve gotta let me in on what’s going on.”

There was another awkward silence, JJ’s eyes downcast, shoulders quaking as she tried her best to will the tears away and force the lump out of her throat. She sighed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her slacks before shrugging her shoulders.

“Not here, not now.”

“Okay, since wine is off the table… why don’t we go pick up some takeout and go back to mine?”

Emily let her hand rest on the small of JJ’s back, guiding her towards the parking lot. There was no way she would let JJ drive in the emotional state she was in, her face still pinched in a mixture of sadness and anger.

“You really don’t have to drive me.”

Despite her words, JJ didn’t object to Emily opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, fastening her seatbelt while Emily rounded the car. She flashed JJ a gentle smile - not one of pity or anger like JJ had expected - before starting the car.

“I know.”

Emily kept her tone light, fingers ghosting along the inside of JJ’s wrist like she always did when she was asking to hold her hand. She smiled when JJ turned her palm up, grasping Emily’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

They remained hand in hand the entire drive, the sky black before they pulled into Emily’s driveway. Her house was much larger than her apartment had been, several bedrooms on a semi-private piece of land. She was content there, with her cat and not knowing her neighbors, a goofy smile on her lips as they walked into the house.

———————

They had settled in, Emily sprawled across the couch while JJ curled up in the chair, boxes of pizza stacked high on the coffee table. JJ had put off talking until they had eaten, Emily promptly ordering their favorite pizza - and enough to feed an army, at that.

“So…” Emily trailed off, taking a moment to swallow before she set her plate on the boxes. “You need to explain.”

“Explain what? I’m pregnant, you know how babies are made.”

“Smart ass.”

Emily rolled her eyes, shooting a pointed look at JJ. Her eyebrow was raised, studying JJ’s face for some sort of response. Unfortunately, they were both profilers and knew how to make their expressions unreadable.

“Okay. Fine.” JJ sighed, rubbing her temples. “So, I called Will and told him that I’m pregnant and he asked me what I’m going to do about it. What I’m going to do, like I’m the only one who participated in getting pregnant!”

A blind rage filled Emily, turning her stomach. She felt her pulse quicken and spots form in her vision - a tell that she was angry, not just upset. Will had been an ass to JJ since they got together a few years back, always making comment on her career and her choices. She really just didn’t like him, and that probably would never change.

“Okay, wow, there’s a lot to unpack there. Did he uh, say anything else?”

JJ shook her head, lips pursed into a fine line. He didn’t - but he said everything he needed to without words. He didn’t want kids - hell, she didn’t know if she even wanted children - but he couldn’t at least comfort her? Make her feel even a little better about the situation?

“Alright, do you think him not saying anything else was a bad thing? Was he just shocked?”

“I mean, it’s not a good thing. We uh, we talked a few weeks ago.” JJ let out another sigh, sounding ragged and tired. “He said kids weren’t on the table for us, because of our jobs. He loves work too much and I… don’t know about me. I love my job and I want to be a mom too, but I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t need to have every answer right now.” Emily shot JJ a comforting smile, her head leaning back into the plush pillowing of the couch.

They were interrupted by the sharp ring of JJ’s phone - both groaning because they thought they would be called away to another case. JJ picked it up, her face contorting in anger as she let out a long sigh.

“Will.”

Emily sat up, elbows resting on her knees as she listened intently. She studied JJ’s face as it changed - moving from confusion to anger to tears welling up in her eyes in a matter of seconds. Quietly, she made a motion for JJ to explain, head cocked.

“No, Will, I’m not getting an abortion. That’s off the table.”

She felt her heart begin to race at JJ’s words, stomach turning. Emily tried to swallow down the bile rising in her throat, staggering to the bathroom and promptly emptying her stomach into the toilet. She felt the telltale burn of tears spring to her eyes, willing herself to stop for a moment - today was JJ’s day, not hers.

It had been so long since she had allowed herself to think of her own abortion all those years ago, and the feelings of shame and guilt and anguish hit her like a freight train. She sighed shakily, ignoring the niggling voice of guilt in the back of her mind - it was what was best at the time, she knew that in her rational mind - before splashing some water on her face, hands gripping the sink as she stared into the mirror.

The reflection was a face Emily hadn’t seen in years - eyebrows furrowed together, mouth pursed into a thin line. She had tried for years to bury the feelings of shame and anguish, the anxiety she had felt, and all of it was rushing back to her again. But this wasn’t about her - this was JJ’s moment, and whatever she decided would be perfectly fine.

Because she was her best friend. Because JJ was a capable adult. Because JJ was able to make her own choices, and Emily was going to be supportive because she loved her, she wanted nothing more for her than happiness.

She left the bathroom, preparing herself for a fight when she heard JJ still arguing with Will.

“No, that’s not happening. No, I can’t.” JJ was scrubbing her face with the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt Emily had lent her. “I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t… I can’t think of that.”

When she saw Emily enter, she looked up at her, brows knit together in confusion. A silent question - an ‘are you okay, please talk to me’. Emily shook her head, a not now, maybe later.

“Listen, Will, I don’t really have any other words right now but I don’t know, I can’t tell you I’ll get an abortion…”

Emily felt the familiar bubble of anger rising in her chest again, an anger she hadn’t felt in so long. She was usually so controlled with her emotions, measured out and carefully let out. She didn’t cry, she didn’t yell, but with Will? Will incited a rage in her that no one else ever had.

With a sigh, she held out her hand for JJ’s phone, mouthing for her to hand it over, that she wanted to talk to Will. She took a breath, fingers wrapping around the phone - burying her disgust in the heart emojis beside Will’s name - before putting it to her face.

“I don’t really know you, you’re too much of a ball licker to get to know your girlfriend’s friends, but you need to back the fuck up. You can’t just tell Jayje to get an abortion! It’s not your fucking body!”

“You know what? I don’t think it’s your body either.”

“It’s not! And it’s not my choice. It’s JJ’s choice, and I’ll hold her hand the entire time if that’s what she chooses. And if not? If she wants to keep your baby - god, poor fucking child to have you for a father. If she wants to keep the baby, I’ll hold her hand through that too. Because I’m not you - because I’m not a piece of shit.”

Emily struggled to maintain her composure, eyes filling with tears once again. She pushed them away, heart pounding so loudly from adrenaline and emotion that she could hear it in her ears.

“You sound like an angry person, Emily Prentiss. I hope your life gets a little better soon. Put Jayje back on the phone.”

“No. She’s my best friend and I know her well enough to know she needs space right now. You guys can talk later.”

She let out a huff, breath shaking, as she hung up the phone. Her lower lip trembled when she set the phone down on the table, adrenaline from their short conversation crashing into her as the tears threatened to spill over her eyelids.

“Fuck, he’s such an ass.” Emily breathed out, tears leaking down her face. She hissed out a soft ‘fuck’, trying to laugh breathily to distract from the tears.

“Hey now, he’s not that bad.” JJ offered, soft pout on her face.

JJ looked on, concern etched into her face - Emily never showed emotion, even on the toughest of their cases. JJ wasn’t used to seeing Emily cry, not even after she had been stabbed, shot, or tortured.

“It’s not Will… the abortion thing, it’s personal for me.”

JJ nestled herself into Emily’s side, fingers trailing down the inside of her arm and tickling at her palm, soft smile creeping up on her lips when Emily grasped her hand. They sat in silence for a few moments, JJ’s head leaning on Emily’s shoulder, both teary eyed and trying to regain their composure.

“Are you ready to talk about it? I won’t judge you. I would never judge you.”

“Jayje…” Emily’s voice was soft, a broken ghost of her usual authoritative tone. “I was fifteen. I got pregnant - um, duh, you have to be pregnant to get an abortion. I was kicked out of my church, but he - my best friend, the, um, the dad if there had really been a baby - he held my hand the entire time. He convinced me to go back to church, with my head held high.”

JJ was quiet, letting Emily have her moment to think and speak. She listened to her tone, shaky and carefully measured, taking the time to enunciate every word - a tell that she was trying her best not to cry. JJ squeezed her hand, nodding in encouragement for her to continue.

“And I feel so much still, so much pain and anguish and guilt and fear… Fear of the unknown, wondering what my life would be like if I had kept my baby. The guilt keeps me up at night, sometimes. I’m good at compartmentalizing, at pushing things away and not feeling them, like they happened to someone else and not me.”

JJ felt her heart clench at Emily’s words, so small and soft and far away. She rubbed her head into Emily’s shoulder, a soft smile on her lips when Emily rested her head on JJ’s own. They sat for a moment, JJ listening to Emily softly sniffle, before she took another deep breath.

“I still feel so much, yes, but I want you to know something. God, Jayje, I could never judge you. I will never judge you - if you feel like this is something you need to do, I’m here. I’ll hold your hand the entire time, the entire way, and I’ll take care of you. You’re my best friend and I love you, and I just… sorry I got weird.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t get weird, because we’re best friends and I’ll see your pain and your hurt and I’ll take some of it to get it off your back for a while.”

JJ rubbed small circles in Emily’s back, lifting her head to turn and properly look at her best friend. Emily looked so wrecked and emotional, makeup tracked down her face, eyes red and swollen.

“I’ll take your pain, and I’ll lessen the load. And I’ll take care of you always, because you’re not alone - you’re never alone when you have me.”

At JJ’s words, Emily let out a hollow sob, hand squeezing tightly to JJ’s. She felt the tears come on stronger now, hunched over and trying her best to swallow her tears and broken cries.

“I keep thinking. I keep thinking about it.” Emily let out a broken sob, free hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I keep thinking about the what if’s, the what could have been’s. I should be over it, I know it.”

“You shouldn’t. You have the right to feel, the right to have your emotions and work through them.”

JJ kept her voice soothing, thumb rubbing the back of Emily’s hand as she just let her cry. She knew that she probably hadn’t allowed herself to cry in a very long time, sobs shaking her small frame. In that moment, she looked so small and fragile - a stark contrast to the badass FBI agent everyone else saw.

They stayed huddled together, hand in hand, until Emily had cried herself out. Her body was shivering, wracked with hiccuping dry sobs, face reddened and damp with the residue of her tears. JJ leaned her head on her shoulder again, dropping a soft kiss to the exposed skin there.

“Are you ready for bed? We don’t have to talk anymore tonight, I know you’ve probably reached your emotional quota for the day.”

“Yeah, uh…” Emily jumped up, wiping at her face with a tissue from the coffee table. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I had cried for that long. Fuck, this is so awkward.”

JJ caught her by the wrist, standing and looking into Emily’s eyes purposefully. She hoped her expression conveyed everything she was feeling - the support, the love, and the pride, so very proud of Emily for coming forward with her secrets and letting her emotions out.

“Hey, stop that. You’re so strong, you put everyone else before you. And yes, you compartmentalize, but you need to learn to let people in. I’m proud of you, you could never be a burden to me.”

There was a moment of silence between them, Emily’s eyes narrowing as she studied JJ’s expression, searching for sincerity. She knew she was sincere, but couldn’t help herself, she needed to know - know that everything was okay between them still, that JJ didn’t judge her.

“Stop, you’re going to make me cry again. I don’t fucking cry.”

“No, you don’t cry, but maybe you should try it sometimes. It’s very cathartic.”

They walked down the hall, Emily stopping at the guest room door as though JJ had never stayed the night at her house before. She made a little motion with her hand, sheepish smile on her face.

“So uh, here’s the guest room… you know that already. Fuck, I’m being stupid.” Emily laughed at herself, a little bit of her usual light and fire returning to her eyes. “Anyways, I’ll be down the hall if you need anything?”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Emily, I’m leaving the door open if that’s okay?”

Emily turned, already halfway down the hallway, a soft smile playing on her lips. She nodded, head cocked as she looked at JJ, studied her face and the way she looked without makeup, uninhibited beauty.

“Yeah, Jayje, you can leave the door open. Sleep tight, come find me if you need me?”

She retreated down the hall, climbing into bed and turning her lamp out. Emily slept with her door open - come to think of it, most of the BAU slept with their doors open, that she knew of - turning onto her side and staring at the window across from her bed. It would be another sleepless night, she just knew it, emotions still racing as her brain worked overtime, thinking of all the possibilities - about herself, her would-be child, about JJ, about Will.

A soft knock on the doorframe brought Emily from her thoughts, clicking her lamp on and sitting up in bed to look at JJ. She was leaning against the door, small blanket wrapped around her body, with the most pitiful expression Emily had ever seen.

The sight of the blanket almost made her smile, the one JJ had claimed as her own when she first became friends with Emily. When she offered for JJ to take it home, JJ declined, saying that she would just have to keep coming over to see Sergio the cat and cuddle up with her favorite blanket.

“Trouble sleeping?” Emily almost didn’t recognize her own voice, small and hoarse from the tears. “Me too.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Wordlessly, Emily laid back down, lifting the blanket for JJ to climb in. She smiled, nearly laughing out loud at the way JJ launched herself into the bed and crawling under the blankets, a pleased smile on her face.

JJ wrapped around her body, hand clutching at Emily’s tee and head resting on her chest. They were both grinning stupidly - the way they always did when they stayed up too late watching horror movies but were too scared to sleep alone.

“Good night, Jayje.”

Emily felt her eyes fluttering shut against her will, nose buried in JJ’s soft hair. She yawned, wrapping and arm around JJ and squeezing gently, finally starting to drift to sleep in JJ’s embrace.

“Night, Em. Thank you for letting me in tonight - you’re the strongest woman I know.”

She tried to fight sleep to respond, but her body felt too heavy with exhaustion, unable to will herself to speak. Emily settled for a soft sigh, one hand threading in JJ’s hair as they both drifted off to sleep.

#my writing #jemily #you are in love #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss

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callmeblake · 5 years ago

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Frank Iero, New York, NY, June 2019 (X)

Aug 29, 2019, 09:10am

Frank Iero May Just Be His Own Puppet Master

Photo Credit: Audrey Lew

Interview below the cut

Derek Scancarelli

Contributor

Hollywood & Entertainment

I am a music journalist living in New York City.

Frank Iero is breathing deeply and fighting off nausea. This isn’t uncommon for the 37-year-old guitarist and vocalist, given his predilection for debilitating anxiety. But on this occasion, it isn’t pre-show jitters.

“Oh my god, I hate this f*cking boat,” Iero says, as the docked vessel on which he sits knocks against a pier in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Iero and his band, The Future Violents, just finished an intimate Saturday matinee show as fans sweat, sang and caught a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

It had been about 16 years since Iero and his now defunct band, My Chemical Romance (the band broke up in 2013), first performed on water. In July of 2002, the band released its debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. In October of 2003, the soon-to-be emo heroes performed alongside New York Hardcore legends Sick Of It All at an aquatic gig booked by New Jersey college radio station WSOU. And in June of 2004, My Chemical Romance released Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, the band’s platinum-selling breakthrough record. In a matter of two years, Iero’s life changed dramatically.

In 2019, Iero still hasn’t found his sea legs, but a lot more has changed. He’s fathered three children, released three full-length solo records (including 2019’s Barriers), and survived a near-death experience. And as he gets older, he finds truth in life’s greatest clichés.

“Time flies, it just screams by,” Iero says. “You think you’re appreciating the time, but it’s easy to take it for granted. It’s a shame.”

But Iero is trying his hardest to pay attention to the little things, especially when it comes to family. He and his wife, Jamia, have three children together: nine-year-old twin daughters, Cherry and Lily, and a seven-year-old son named Miles.

“It’s wonderful to see them evolve and come into their own,” Iero says. “But it’s funny how personalities are innate. We shape the way they experience things or teach them the ropes, but for the most part, I’ve found that we are who we are when we’re born.”

From the start, Iero has seen an even split in the twins’ personalities. Cherry, he says, most behaves like her mother, whereas Lily possesses her father’s attitude.

“Some of the sh*t I hear coming out of my daughter's mouth,” Iero says laughing. “My God! It’s stuff I think but never say — they don't know to be ashamed yet! It's amazing and honest and pure. And I know exactly where she's coming from because I feel the same way.”

As part of fostering a relationship of trust and honesty, Iero has been age-appropriately transparent with his kids about the 2016 accident that almost killed him, his brother-in-law and guitarist Evan Nestor and his manager Paul Clegg.

While unloading gear from their van in Sydney, Australia, a city bus crashed into the group and their vehicle. In a 2017 interview with MTV, Iero recounted, in vivid detail, the moment he was dragged underneath the bumper of the bus, the screams of his brother-in-law, and the blood pooling from his manager.

Although Iero was able to walk into an ambulance carrying one of his friends, the scene was a spectacle overrun with emergency personnel — they even landed a rescue helicopter in nearby Hyde Park. Despite serious injuries, amazingly, there were no fatalities.

When Iero returned home from the hospital, he explained to his children that he was in a car accident, but that it was a singular freak incident.

“You don't want to lie,” he says. “They're getting older. Their friends and their parents are on the internet. They're asking questions. It does get back to them.”

Iero was as honest as possible, but avoided any gory details. He was also conscious that it wouldn’t be long before he would travel for work again — and he didn’t want to scare his kids any further.

Almost four years later, residual damage from the crash is impossible to ignore. Nestor has nerve damage in his leg that may never be corrected. Clegg’s leg and knee have undergone multiple surgeries, but are in poor shape. And Iero still has a tear in his shoulder that hurts every time he plays the guitar. Despite the pain, he’s afraid to undergo surgery.

“I was lucky enough to walk away and still play,” Iero says. “If I were to test fate again and go under the knife, if something were to go wrong… to let that be taken from me … no, I can't.”

On some days, the emotional toll of surviving such a traumatic accident weighs more heavily. Iero describes his recovery as non-linear: some days he feels collected and in control, other days the memory rushes back into his mind.

After his new band finished recording Barriers, Iero and his team went back to Australia for appointments pertaining to the accident and corresponding litigation. As soon as he exited the plane, Iero felt like he’d returned to the horrific scene. For the following week, he was barraged by an unending state of panic.

“You go through these instances of PTSD,” he says. “You never know what's going to trigger and send you all the way back to the beginning with recovery.”

Iero greatly underestimated how difficult his return to Australia would be. When navigating to a doctor’s office near where the accident occurred, he couldn’t bring himself to walk down the street. And suddenly, he felt surrounded by buses.

“I don't know if this is true,” he says. “But it felt like every other car on the street was one of these f*cking buses. They were everywhere. It was frightening. I couldn't do anything. I was shaking like a leaf.”

Despite the traumatic flashbacks, Iero continues to reflect on that day. In the promotional run for Barriers, he discussed the accident at length. And on the record itself, he addresses the complicated ripple effect it’s had on his entire sense of self.

“I don't think it needs to define me,” Iero says. “But it was something I needed to talk about on this record. It's not something I could sweep under the rug. But do I want to dwell on it every day and relive it? No. But I think about it constantly. I feel the pain constantly. It's on my mind.”

In recent interviews, Iero has tended to frame a few philosophical takeaways from his ordeal. In simple terms, the first idea is that he’s found a new lease on life — that everything happens for a reason and he’s been given an opportunity to seize the day. The second philosophy is much darker, a sort of survivor’s guilt compounded with fear and existential dread. The third and most abstract consideration is closest to Simulation Theory — where Iero has the ability to control his own artificial timeline.

Sometimes, Iero questions if actually died that day. He wonders: Is this all real?

“It’s hard. No one can tell you what to believe,” he says. “But you come to this realization, ‘Well, this is real to me, the hand I was dealt, so I have to make the best of it!’”

Through the acceptance of uncertainty, Iero surmises that he just may be his own puppet master.

“If this is a figment of my imagination,” Iero says. “If this is all in my head, then I am the master of my own destiny. If I want to do something, I can manufacture it. And if it's not the case, then at least it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe putting positive vibes out into the universe is beneficial. If we didn't make it and we're just going through this weird labyrinth in my mind, I can do anything I want.”

And lately, he’s been doing just that. Call it sorcery or the power of positive thinking, but Iero is motivated. For Barriers, he was able to assemble a dream band, The Future Violents (different lineups of his backing band have previously gone by The Cellabration and The Patience), featuring his brother-in-law Nestor on guitar, Thursday’s Tucker Rule on drums, Murder by Death’s Matt Armstrong on bass, and Kayleigh Goldsworthy on keyboard.

The theme of the album — and his own internal dialogue — mostly relates to tragedy and timing. Did the universe have a course set out for him? Or was he just some random victim?

“The crazy thing is that you didn't do anything wrong,” Iero says of the accident. “Yet, all of this stuff was taken from you and you have to make these decisions. You get angry a lot.”

He continues: “These random, abrupt, violent actions. Do they happen to us? Or for us? I wouldn't have been able to make this record if it didn't happen. And it made me realize a lot of things about myself. Am I happy it happened? No. But I'm happy where I am right now.”

Iero views Barriers as an exercise in vulnerability. If the aftermath of his accident taught him anything, it’s that success was meaningless to his character, but adversity helped him grow. For the first time, addressing childhood trauma helped Iero expose himself in a way that felt freeing.

“When you put something to song, it gives that memory weight,” Iero explains. “If you never talk about it, it's almost like it didn't happen. There's a fine line between relinquishing that power to this memory, situation or trauma, or holding that power over it and creating your own narrative from it.”

Barriers also intertwines Iero’s childhood experiences with his current perspective as a father. This go around, he felt comfortable writing about his parents’ divorce — the couple split when he was three and divorced when he was seven.

He looks back on the unpleasantness of the process and his consequential understanding of his mother’s issues with addiction, depression and mental illness. On his 2016 record, Parachutes, Iero first referenced his mother’s struggles and his own liability to inherit her traits. He’s still horrified by the idea of predeterminism.

“When you're a young kid being surrounded with it, it doesn't feel right,” Iero says. “You're not happy. You're scared. You're constantly concerned for your parent. It’s almost as if you become the caregiver.”

He continues: “Then you see yourself falling into these patterns that you were witness to and maybe in a roundabout way were taught. That addiction, that depression, runs through you. It's easy to fall off that cliff. I don't want that for my kids and I need to stop this cycle. Like this sh*t stops with me. Whether it be I get okay, or I f*cking turn my lights out.”

It’s this sort of tongue-in-cheek use of concerning language that keeps Iero’s fanbase enthralled, yet somewhat on edge. Take for example, in the comment section for his video “Young & Doomed,” some diehard fans are troubled by his repeated use of the words “hurt myself again.” While he’s surprised to hear about the response, he counters that the record is ultimately meant to feel uplifting and positive, even if addressing dark topics.

“I don't think that we should strive for perfection,” Iero says. “This idea that we should all have this perfect life and be pretty and purse our lips to post a picture on social media is bullsh*t. The things that make us unique are important.”

He continues: “Sometimes we're our own worst enemies and we hurt ourselves. Those scars, though, are important. They're beautiful. ‘Young And Doomed’ is a call to arms to celebrate the things people think are wrong with us.”

Now, Iero just hopes his story and music inspire fans to try, fail and try again.

“You don't find out who you are unless you get a scar and get hurt,” Iero says. “You should be hurt, hurt other people, and learn that it feels terrible to hurt someone else. You should feel sorry for it and make amends for it. These are important lessons to be a better person. You find out who you truly are by attacking things that scare you the most.”

Frank Iero is currently touring Europe with Laura Jane Grace & The Devouring Mothers.

#frank iero #august 2019 #forbes #audrey lew #red eagle shirt #all blue #october 2019 #bus crash #navy blue tiger windbreaker

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weirdochick56 · 5 years ago

Text

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Three

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst, MILD SMUT, a little bit of infidelity (it doesn’t get that far but if this triggering to you, kindly don’t read.)

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count: 4, 122 words

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

(Gif isn’t mine! Ugh who told him he could be so BEAUTIFUL?)

You tiptoe your way to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. Something stops you in your tracks as you near the kitchen, though. Two voices, hushed but clearly arguing bounce out of the kitchen walls.

One is male and one is female and against your better judgment, you conceal your body behind the wall, eavesdropping on their argument.

Alright, so maybe not your proudest moment, but you couldn’t help yourself because you recognize one of the voices. The male one is Mr. Evans and the female one, well you can only assume it’s his girlfriend (if you could even call her that).

As you listen in, you wonder what they’re still doing here this late.

“Chris, I’m sick of you doing this shit to me,” she hisses.

“Doing what, Cassidy? Huh? Doing what!?” his voice increases in volume only a little bit but you can tell he’s utterly exasperated.

You flinch a bit at his tone, unable to help how much you hate when he’s upset.

She growls, gripping at her hair. “Ignoring me, dammit. Do you even care about me, Chris? I mean genuinely care for what I’m feeling? At all! God, all I really need to stay is for you to tell me you care about me, Chris,” her voice cracks. “I don’t even need you to tell me you love me,” she rasps.

Your heart races as you too await his response. Utter silence ensues and the tension rises.

He lets out a meek “I-”

Your breath catches and you lean in anxiety and curiosity peaking.

More silence, hard breathing. You lean closer. Closer. Closer. Close-

“Ah!” You yelp when you lose your footing and trip forward. You land on your knees and hands with a loud grunt as pain shoots through you.

“Shit!” you curse loudly, pushing yourself back so that your ass was pressing against your heels.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds confused as your head snaps up to them.

The brunette looks at you with a frown, but Mr. Evans looks on the brink of bursting out in laughter, his lips curled in a bemused smirk.

You at least have the decency to blush, smiling sheepishly as you begin to hoist yourself up.

“You okay?” Mr. Evans wordlessly and quickly runs over to your side, gripping your elbow to help you up. His other hand wraps around your waist, fingers brushing against your ribs. He whispers the question into your hair.

His hands are big and warm, familiar in the most exciting way. Can’t help it when your body gives the smallest shift to take in more of those hands of his.

You look up at him, hating how good his touch felt against your skin and how incredible his warmth felt as well.

Then your gazes lock and you almost forget what to say.

“I’m fine,” you finally mumble, snapping out of it as you tenderly shake his touch off and clear your throat, looking down at your bare feet.

God, could this situation get more awkward?

The woman, seemingly sensing the tension in the air, sighs, offering you a tiny smile.

“Well, I’m off to bed. Goodnight.” She gives Mr. Evans one last stare- conveying that this was not over, before walking out.

A beat of silence passes before he finally speaks, addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know, sweetheart...” he jests bemusedly.

You look up at him, smiling sheepishly as a blush rages madly on your face. “I’m sorry, I was just coming to get something to eat. I didn’t think there would be anyone here.” You bite your lip, shrugging meekly.

He watches you closely, licking his own lips before looking away with a smile and shake of his head.

“Anyway, thanks for saving me.”

You sigh, moving around him to reach the fridge. “Don’t even mention it...”

You lean down to scavenge for any leftovers, feeling a surge of pride when you find some pizza that looked relatively good.

You put it up to your nose, spinning around. “Hm, this smells pretty- Jesus fuck!” You yelp lightly, heart racing once more when you bump into Chris’s strong chest lightly.

You crane your neck to glare up at him. “What the hell is it with you sneaking up on me and invading my personal space?” you snarl.

He smirks that insufferable smirk he seemed to reserve just for you and a chill travels through you as his face tilts and nears yours, his eyes piercing right through you. “What is it with you listening in on private conversations?”

You scoff, stepping away from him truly because it was too damn much to have him this close, but you make it seem like it’s because you’re headed for the microwave to heat up your food.

“I already told you, I was just trying to get food when I heard you two speaking,” you lean up on your tiptoes to get two plates out.

You put two cold pizza slices on the plates and stick one into the microwave. “And anyway, what are you still doing here?” you can’t help but snark, spinning around to face him with a brow raised.

He’s sitting on a stool by the counter and his eyes have clearly been trained on your ass. The thing is, unlike before when he would’ve blushed and looked away and acted like he hadn’t just been eye-fucking you, now he does nothing to hide it.

“Your father offered me the guest room for the night,” he answers simply, gaze unwavering.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap.

“Looking at you like what?” He feigns innocence and almost with deliberate laziness, he moves up your body with his eyes— letting you know that he’s not in the least ashamed of having been staring at you in the first place, much less of getting caught.

“Like that,” you grumble.

“Alright.” But he doesn’t stop, only looks at you more intensely and with more want than before.

This, for some reason, ignites a fire deep in your belly and you raise your brows at him, pointing to the pizza because you can’t let him know how turned on that fucking gaze makes you.

“You want a slice?”

He grins ominously. “How’d you know?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, deciding to bait him. “Arguing tends to make one hungry.”

He doesn’t take the bait, shoving a hand into his sweatpants’ pocket. “Oh? And you would know?”

Seeing that your strategy isn’t working, you decide honesty is the way to go.

You blow a raspberry. “Are you kidding? It’s like, my dad and I’s thing.”

He chuckles, his eyes sharpening with interest. “Is that you and uh, Daniel’s thing too?”

You think he says the name with a just a little too much force. It could just be your ears playing a trick on you though.

You instantly look up at him, jaw dropped. “W-what?”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance, just stares down at his hands like they’re the most interesting things ever. “You really should keep your voice down when you talk on the phone.”

“How much of that conversation did you hear?” you murmur.

He shrugs. “Meh. Only all the juiciest bits.”

You regain your composure, determined not to give in to his attempts at making you feel out of control. Not that you needed much help with that when he was around, though.

“So we’ve got a case of the pot calling the kettle black on our hands. It’s rude to eavesdrop you know, Mr. Evans.” You use his words against him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the loud beeping of the microwave cuts him off. You hold a finger up to signal him to hold that thought before you pull the plate out and put the other in. You bring the plate over to the table, sliding it over to him as you sat on the stool in front of him.

“So. You were giving me an excuse for why you were listening in on my private conversation?” You lean forward, feigning interest.

“I wasn’t. There is no excuse other than you were loudly talking about me so it’d be kinda hard not to listen in,” he responds honestly before his eyes flicker to yours, pinning you to place. “She’s right, you know?”

“Who?”

“Margo.” He responds curtly, taking a bite of his pizza slice.

“About what?” You push.

He swallows, putting the rest of the slice down as he looks at you. “About us,” he says matter-of-factly.

You immediately look away, unable to bear looking at him while he talked about an “us” like there even was one to begin with. And the worst part? You wanted so badly to ask him what he meant.

No, Y/n. The past remains in the past-- where it belongs.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You expect him to agree. To take the chance to move away from the past and leave you there slightly disappointed but majorly relieved. But what he does instead shocks you.

“Well, I do,” he says firmly. Not an ounce of anger in him or even desperation. Just...solidity.

Your gaze snaps to his, fierce but clearly hurt. “But I don’t. So drop it.”

He stares at you for a minute too long before he finally relents in a shrug. He instead leans forward onto his elbows, clasping his fingers in front of him-- the picture of interested coolness.

“Fine, I will. But...‘just a schoolgirl crush’, really?”

“You sound offended,” you observe the ghost of a grin tugging at your lips.

He tries to shrug it off, but you can see his discomfort from miles away. “I’m not.” He takes a bite of the pizza, signaling the end of that conversation.

You sigh, crossing tucking one of your legs underneath you and motioning to the doorway with your head. “So. Pretty brunette-”

“Cassidy.”

“Cool.” You smile with sickly sweetness before snapping back to a serious expression. “What’s you guys’ deal, then?”

He takes another bite of pizza, eyes searching yours. “You heard, didn’t you? She thinks I don’t care about her.”

“You don’t seem all too broken up about that,” you mumble. “Do you care about her?”

He pauses his chewing, pondering for a few seconds, before slowly nodding. “I do.”

“So why couldn’t you tell her that?” you instantly ask, unable to hold back.

He looks at you with a smug grin. “Why can’t you have sex with this Daniel guy? Is he ugly or something?”

If his goal was to stump you, he’s achieved it.

Now, unable to express your embarrassment any other way, you grow angry.

“That’s none of your damn business, Chris.”

He doesn’t seem affected in the least by your rough tone. “Then mine isn’t yours either.”

You look at him for another second, trying to look out for any cracks in that wall only to come up empty once again. His face is perfectly composed- smugly calm.

There’s something so much more unabashedly raw and real and unadulterated about him now. He isn’t mild-mannered or outwardly sweet anymore- he’s raw and witty and smug.

He knows what he wants and how to get it; much like he did before, except now it was outwardly apparent and thought you could see glimpses of his sweet nature, it wasn’t the same as before.

And my god, if that doesn’t just make him so much more fucking hot.

“Fair enough,” you finally relent, getting up to retrieve your pizza.

You bend down to get it from the microwave. “Do you want anything to wash that down with? There’s soda in the fridge and I’m pretty sure there’s some leftover beer somewhere in there.”

His eyes aren’t trained on your face though. Instead, they’re once more blatantly staring at your body. Your tits, to be specific.

You freeze, shocked. So shocked at his brazen actions, in fact, that you must even trace his gaze from his eyes to your boobs, just to make sure you’re not imagining this. When you realize this was really happening, your body immediately warms- both with excitement and irritation.

“Hey, are you listening to anything I’m saying?” you hiss, snapping your fingers in his face.

He looks up at you with a blank expression. “Not really, no.”

His gaze, in sharp contrast to his expression, was lighted with that fire you remembered oh-so-well, slick with lust and feral want- somehow so much more intense than it had ever been before.

Something in your shifts, like you know exactly what would ensue from this very moment. The look in his eyes. The emotions in your body....they were all too familiar.

The air tenses with crackling energy in the air and even though you knew anyone could walk in at this moment, you couldn’t give less of a shit right now.

“It’s not fair for you to come here after two years and do this to me, sweetheart,” he rasps from deep in his throat as if he’s struggling to control himself.

Your breath catches at the intensity of his eyes as they make you feel like he can easily see right through your flimsy clothing.

“I’m not doing anything,” you utter pathetically.

His gaze never leaves your body as he gradually stalks up to you. You can’t move, can’t speak, can’t think, can’t breathe- eyes locked in an infinite battle with his now dark blue ones. “Oh, trust me on this; you’re doing all sorts of things to me right now, sweetheart.”

And then his arms are caging you against the kitchen counter within a matter of seconds, what with the advantage of his long legs.

Your breath instantly catches at the sudden proximity and your heart clenches with something. This was the first time you’d had him close in over two years and fuck if it didn’t make your insides shift in all kinds of ways.

His scent is overwhelming, instantly hitting you in the face like a sucker punch, all warm and inviting and delicious and him. Gosh, you’d missed him.

You bite your lip in order to contain all the tiny sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

His nose brushes against yours softly and your stomach clenches.

“This isn’t right,” he rasps huskily and you instantly know what he’s referring to.

You should stop. You should remind him that his girlfriend was here just a few minutes ago and that your boyfriend was waiting for you at home. You should tell him how dangerous it was to play with fire like this and yet you don’t.

Because you wanted to get burnt. God, you wanted to get so deliciously hurt by him it’d ruin every other emotion for you.

You barely gasp, eyes fluttering half-way shut.

“When has it ever been right?” you breathe before you can even process what you’re saying, practically gasping for air.

He presses himself against you in the sweetest of tortures and you can feel just how much you’ve affected him, his dick- all hard and ready pressing against you.

It drives you crazy how close he is and how unable you are to have him. You’re teasing the invisible line, but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to cross it.

“Stop fucking with my head like this,” he responds instantly, voice almost a growl. As if he was angry. “You’re not supposed to still have this hold over me, dammit.”

Was he angry at you? At himself? Both maybe?

In a risky move which you don’t entirely think through, you push back against him, pressing your body against his, crushing your stomach to his manhood, softly brushing your lips against the tiny space between you two just to tease him.

“Is that why you’re angry?” you whisper into the mostly non-existent space between you, peering into his eyes with a challenging kind of feigned innocence.

His knuckles turn white as his hold tightens on the counter. Heh. Barely restrained, you muse mentally, feeling your cunt pulse with arousal at the mere sight of him trying so hard to hold back from fucking you right here right now.

Because you could see in his eyes that he wanted to as much as you did.

It was intense, similar to how it’d been two years ago. But it wasn’t the same, not even by a bit. It was as if two years apart had done the opposite of what you’d wanted and only made your ache for him three thousand times stronger.

And when you least expect it, he grips your jaw in his hands, looking at your face with those fucking eyes of his. Not inspecting, rather debating. With himself, most likely.

You hold your breath, deep down wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you and then bury himself so deep inside you, you wouldn’t even be able to remember your own goddamn name.

His touch felt like heaven after having been deprived of it for so long. You can’t help but lean into it, practically begging him to touch you more.

More, please.

“Chris,” his name tumbles from your lips unexpectedly- a breathy beseech, almost a moan.

He mutters a husky almost desperate “fuck” under his breath as his thumb softly brushes against your cheekbone like he’s used to do back then. Then he abruptly steps away from you, leaving you there- cold and unsuspectingly vulnerable.

...just like he used to do back then.

“It doesn't matter why I’m angry.” He answers roughly, lips pursing. “Won’t change anything, will it? We’re both still going to be two different people who are now on two very different paths.”

Despite how much that single statement hurts you, it also clears the desire-fog of the moment. You briskly come down from your high and find yourself suddenly remembering that you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend and that nothing about what just happened was right. Even if it did feel like drinking water after days of walking a seemingly endless desert.

“You’re right,” you respond tightly, swallowing. “We’re both two people in committed relationships who have no business doing...” You left the rest unsaid because if you can avoid saying it out loud but still get your point across, it was worth it.

He smiles. He just smiles, but you know exactly what that means.

He agrees.

“We need to-“ he motions to his manhood, which was still so...excited. “I can’t-“

You cut him off, blushing madly because you were embarrassed beyond belief. “I- yeah. I-I don’t know what happened but it won’t happen again. We’re two adults now who know what their places are.” Your voice lowers. “We know with who those places are.”

He flinches slightly, nodding just the tiniest bit stiffly, “Yeah. Yeah...”

The next day you practically tumble out of bed, mind initially too foggy with tiredness to even focus on anything other than your sudden and entirely overwhelming need for coffee.

So in a zombie-like state, you pad your way to the kitchen, eyes squinting against the morning light filtering in from the open curtains.

It takes you a second to realize it, but Kennedy, Chris, and Cassidy are already seated on the stools in the kitchen counter.

Chris and Kennedy are already stuffing their faces with bacon, eggs, and toast while Cassidy casually sips on her mug.

You mumble a croaky “Morning” on your way to the box of granola bars, ignoring the shiver that traveled down your spine when you felt his presence so near yours after what happened yesterday.

It was wrong. On so many levels.

And still, just thinking about his touch, his eyes, his practically tangible want, and your own, it makes you want to forget just how much.

It was all just so...intense. The very air particles were charged with energy that you couldn’t see but could feel in your very bones.

Your first day back and you’d already barely kept yourself together again. And the mortification of that after the high of the moment has dwindled down, hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

It wouldn’t happen again though. Once more, not wanting to believe reality was real didn’t make it any less of a fact.

And just as it had been so intense yesterday; today all that you could feel was intense awkwardness being in the same room as him and his girlfriend knowing you’d shared a moment in this very room yesterday.

Not to mention what the hell were they doing here? Did he and Cassidy live in your damn house now?

After last night and how abruptly he’d left you in the kitchen when your conversation got a little bit too close to hitting a nerve, you expected him to be long gone by now.

Plucking a bar up, you make your way to the coffee machine, planning to make yourself a mug and then dip the fuck outta there as quickly as you could.

Kennedy’s voice interrupts you. “If you’re looking for coffee, there’s a mug for you at the table already, hun.”

You turn to look at her, brows furrowed. “Huh?”

She chuckles lightly, pointing at a steaming mug beside her and you hate her for being so sweet. “Chris was nice enough to make it for you; he guessed you’d probably want some first thing in the morning. I guess he was right.” She laughs, glancing at Chris. “Come sit. I’ll have a plate out for you in just a sec.”

You only hesitate for a second before nodding and walking over to the table nervously. Your eyes are plastered on him the entire time, the small yet sweet gesture making your heart flutter in ways you hadn’t felt for a while.

He didn’t need to say it out loud for you to know he remembered how crazy you were about coffee. Especially first thing in the morning.

As you sit in the stool positioned directly in front of him, you take the mug in your hands. “Thanks,” you murmur at him, taking a sip of the warm beverage and letting it travel down your esophagus.

Your eyes widen when you realize he’d added exactly the amount of sugar you liked and even more shocking; he’d added the tiniest bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, a detail you remember telling him the grand amount of once.

Chris focuses on his food just a little too much, ignoring your gaze at all costs as he nods in response. “Sure thing.”

Cassidy, on the other hand, smiles brightly at you and you can’t help but hate her too, for being so gorgeous this early in the fucking morning.

They’re both already showered and dressed and you can’t help but blush when you realize you’re still in your pj's and your hair more than likely looks like a bird’s nest.

“Morning,” she chirps perkily and you swear your eye twitches.

You return a polite smile nonetheless. “Morning Cassidy.”

She looks at you with an awkward and slightly sweet smile, murmuring under her breath. “I’m sorry about yesterday by the way. You didn’t need to witness that.”

You shrug lightly, fiddling with your granola bar. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for ya’ know-” you wave a hand, referring to your eavesdropping. “It wasn’t my place,” you whisper the last part.

She shrugs, grinning crookedly. “It’s cool. I wouldn’t be able to help myself if I were you either.”

You glance at Chris only to find him already looking at you. His gorgeous blue pools of intensity shock you to your core. He discreetly grins, mouthing “nice PJs” to you before smugly taking a bite of his toast.

You want to retort something like “you saw them yesterday asshole”, but you bite your tongue and look down instead.

Scoffing before taking a small bite of your granola bar, you shift uncomfortably in your stool as an uneasy silence once more falls upon you three. It only lightens when Kennedy comes back with a plate for you.

You take it gratefully, offering her the smallest of smiles as to not make her think she’s off the hook with you just yet. “Thanks.”

As you start to chew your food, you realize something. “Where’s Dad?”

Kennedy responds. “He went out to buy some things for the wedding.”

You hum in acknowledgment and another uncomfortable falls over the table. Surprisingly, Cassidy is the first one to break it.

“So,” she starts, smile and all. “Y/f/n tells me you’re in college now. What’re you majoring in?”

You immediately perk up at this, grateful for a conversational topic as well as just happy to talk about your studies. “Right now I’m majoring in psychology. I just love it,” you gush.

You hear Chris snort bemusedly under his breath and all your heads simultaneously swivel to him. He’s smirking to himself, only confusing you further.

“Baby?” Cassidy asks him and you have to physically fight back the urge to gag.

He looks up and is bewildered to find you all staring at him. His brows furrow. “What?”

Kennedy smiles. “What’s so funny?”

He smirks, gaze flickering over to you. “Nothing. I just always figured that’s what you’d go for. Either that or journalism.”

You can’t help but smile, a bit taken aback by the accuracy of his statement. “How’d you-”

“You were always an open book, sweetheart,” is all he says, eyes twinkling.

You hold each other's gazes almost on instinct, stupid, goofy smiles spread wide on both your faces, a hidden understanding passing through you both. One nobody but you two was in on.

It didn’t worry you how well he knew you because you knew him just as well. There was no other way around it, you just did.

Cassidy clears her throat, snapping you both out of your little moment. You clear your own throat lightly, cheeks reddening as Chris looks away instantly.

“Anyway,” Cassidy mumbles, visibly weirded out. “Chris and I are going out shopping.” She instantly perks up again, gripping his arm lovingly.

You really can’t help it when a pang of pain hits you in the chest and you grip your mug tighter, eyes unable to leave her long, slender, perfectly-manicured hands that grip onto his muscular bicep like it was the most natural position in the world.

Like they were meant to be together.

You can’t help but look down at your own nails. A pang of insecurity hits you when you’re met not with nicely manicured nails, but bitten down, uneven ones instead; courtesy of being a college student.

You look at Cassidy closely, unable to help yourself when you begin to compare yourself to her. Her chest was bustier than yours, her build more slender and delicate, her skin tanned in a sun-kissed kind of way. She was tall and gorgeous. With glossy, healthy-looking dark hair and striking dark eyes.

You instantly feel yourself deflate when you find none of those attributes within yourself. Nothing about you was striking.

Maybe that’s why he preferred her. She was more beautiful and mature than you, after all.

What in the hell are you thinking Y/n? You mentally smack yourself. He is not yours. You have no claim over him and never forget, you have a boyfriend who loves you for who you are.

You make a mental note to call Daniel later.

“What’re you shopping for?” Kennedy inquires, breaking you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

“Dresses. I have nothing to wear to the wedding,” Cassidy responds, practically beaming.

At the reminder, you choke on your drink. Crap. A dress. Right.

Kennedy gently pats your back. “What happened, hun?”

You lightly flinch away from her touch and she notices, quickly retracting her hand with a concerned frown.

“I just-” you blush, biting your lip. “I don’t have a dress for the wedding either,” you whisper sheepishly.

“Oh!” Kennedy waves you off. “It’s fine. I’m sure Cassidy and Chris would be happy to take you out shopping for one.”

She shoots them a look.

Cassidy instantly nods. “Yes. We’d love to.”

You can’t help but cringe at the idea because as soon as it’s brought up, Chris’ head snaps up and his gaze locks with yours. The same thought passes through you both.

Not good. Not good at all.

You try to shake your head and protest. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you guys. Really.”

Cassidy and Kennedy shake you off instantly, telling you that that was “nonsense” and that it was “fine”.

You’d fought back hard, but eventually, they’d convinced you. The entire time you refused to look at Chris- too scared to see his reaction even though you felt him silently looking at you the entire time.

You nod, picking up your plate and mug and quickly wash them, drying your hands afterward. “Fine. Just let me get ready really quick.”

A day out in the town with Chris and Cassidy?

This was bad. This was so, so bad.

Read Chapter Four Here!!

***

As a writer, I thought having control of my stories would make me less emotionally invested in the characters than my readers. I was wrong.

A Special thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicolailovedogs

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@liatnism

@sashimi-cat

@zofty15

@gemgemswift

@fafulous

And my forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

@tomshelbystits

#Mr. Evans II #Mr Evans #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans

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igottoomuchwriting · 5 years ago

Text

Requiem

Part 1/Previous Part/Next Part

---

Dating Connor was better than what he thought it would be.

When Connor first asked him out, he was very scared. After Connor had convinced him that it wasn’t a prank and that he actually had a crush on Evan, he then had his own brain and Jared to worry about.

He constantly thought it was a prank, that Connor was going to make a fool of him so the attention of being a ‘freak’ and ‘weirdo’ would be taken off of him and put onto Evan. Everyone morning he expected to get a text that Connor changed his mind, or that he didn’t want to talk to Evan anymore because Evan was weird and a lot to handle. Evan wouldn’t have blamed him if he texted that. Hell, most days Evan can barely handle himself. It would just be selfish to expect Connor to be able to handle him.

Jared never really helped the situation either. Even though Jared was the one who pushed the two teens to get over their feelings and go on a date—though it wasn’t fun to learn that his friend (family friend, he quickly reminded himself) also pushed Connor into admitting to him that he liked Evan when Jared had given Connor no sense of security in the fact that he could trust Jared with that information—he loved to push Evan’s anxiety and make him imagine every scenario that Evan can think of by himself.

“God, please tell me if he stands you up,” Jared had told Evan about a week before their date. “I could use it as ammo against him if he ever decides to go after me again in the future.”

“The school will get a kick out of this when they find out,” he laughed as Evan had called him about what to wear, what to say, what to do. Of course, Jared didn’t give any helpful advice on this in the first place.

From Jared Kleinman: he may just want sex man

From Jared Kleinman: gotta be prepared ;)

Those texts did not help Evan in anyway. They were bad in themselves, but to receive them 20 minutes before Connor was supposed to pick him up sent Evan into an anxiety attack. When Connor picked him up, he had to help Evan calm down so that they could go on their date.

The first date was great. They didn’t do a lot, just went out to Á La Mode and walked around a nearby park. It was really close to what they did when they first started being friends and Evan was happy that it was calm. He didn’t like extravagant things, or being expected to act a certain way in certain places or restaurants. If they had gone to a restaurant, Evan would have been so scared about helping to pay or letting Connor pay by himself and it would have triggered another anxiety attack from the teen.

No, it was calm. Connor had even put some effort into his look, ditching his normal hoodie for a nice button up with a nice pair of jeans. Nothing fancy, he almost looked like how twenty percent of the boys at their school look like, but it was different. While they had walked around, he even asked to hold Evan’s hand. It took Evan about ten minutes to calm down from it.

But he liked it.

They went on two more dates after that one. They grew closer with each date, each text, each call, each ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. They held hands whenever they were alone, hugged each other when they met up, and they had even cuddled once when Connor’s whole family was gone. Evan was mortified when Connor put an arm around his shoulders when they started the movie, but by the end of it he was tucked into Connor’s shoulder and curled up against his side with the other boy rubbing his arm in comforting motions.

Evan thought it was going great. There were some days that Connor was closed off, angry, and would lash out at Evan for just changing his tone slightly. Evan would be scared when it happened, would apologize nonstop. He had learned to just give Connor some time to cool down from the outburst before asking what was wrong, why he reacted the way he did. He had to ask or Connor would never bring it up and Evan is horrible at reading body language. If he asked, Connor would explain why he had a knee-jerk reaction to a slight change in something.

It was just things that they had to work on. Evan had to work on telling the truth, Connor had to work on apologizing. Evan had to work on his rambling when he wanted to avoid topics, Connor had to work on his knee-jerking reactions to little things that happen in his life. Neither of them are perfect, neither of them actually know what they are doing, but they know what to make better.

Neither Evan nor Connor told anyone around them that they were going on dates. Evan knew that his mom would be okay with it, but he also really didn’t want to sit down and have that conversation. She would be so happy that Evan had a friend, and now someone that could be his boyfriend, but if it didn’t work out she would be sad. She would try to comfort him but he would be able to tell that she was disappointed that he couldn’t keep the only relationship that he has had together.

Connor said he didn’t have anyone he wanted to tell. If he told his parents, that would also involve coming out and he thought that they would either think he is lying or that Evan was just a dealer that they had to separate his son from. Evan had asked if he would ever tell Zoe, but he never got an answer. Connor had turned away from him and coughed awkwardly, saying “Let’s just watch the movie”. He never pushed it again.

Evan was sure that they had it in the bag. He was sure.

Zoe seemed to have other ideas.

Evan was sitting against his locker during lunch, quietly reading a book that Connor had recommended to him. If Evan was honest, he would admit that he doesn’t read much. It has nothing to do with his anxiety, but he just believes watching movies or TV is easier than reading. Though, when Connor started telling him about this book he had read Sophomore year, his eyes lit up and a smile spread over his face, Evan knew he had to read it. It made Connor so happy that he felt it was something he needed to experience as well.

“Evan?” he heard a voice ask. Evan popped his head up to see Zoe standing in front of him. She didn’t look happy.

“Oh, uh, hi Zoe,” he stuttered out. “I’m sorry, were you there long? I didn’t mean to get so caught up in my reading.”

“You’re fine,” she snipped. Her tone had Evan flinching back into his locker, looking back down at his closed book. Evan heard Zoe let out a sigh. “Sorry, I just… I had a question for you.”

“O-Oh?” His hands immediately started sweating. Does she know about him and Connor? Is she going to ask if they are dating? What does Evan say? Connor hasn’t told her yet, at least he doesn’t think so. Should he lie? Tell the truth? What if she tells Connor’s parents? Or worse, his mom. God, he can’t have his mom know yet. He isn’t ready for her to know that. What happens if Connor’s parents find out? Will they have to break up? Will Connor’s parents let Evan come over anymore? Will they think that Evan made Connor gay?

Did Evan make Connor gay?

“You hang out with my brother, right?” she asked. Her arms were crossed over her chest. It looked like she was trying so hard to hide something. Was she angry? Sad? Evan honestly couldn’t tell.

“Y-Yeah. We hang out, uh, time to time?” Why did he end it like a question?

“Why?” Evan gave her a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“No one hangs around my brother,” she snapped. “I’ve never seen anyone from the school willingly talk to him. So, what’s the reason? Is he paying you? Are you his drug dealer?”

“No!” Drug dealer? The only drugs Evan even owns are his anxiety meds, and he would rather die than sell them and suffer with panic attacks. “I don’t even smoke drugs!”

Zoe stared at Evan, gaze studying him where he sits on the floor. Evan looked down at his hands in an attempt to avoid her gaze, but it was no use. It was like he could feel her eyes burning through him, knowing every secret about him and ready to expose it to the world.

“I believe you,” she mumbled. Evan let out a breath of relief. “But why do you hang out with my brother?”

“Because he is my friend?” Evan didn’t know how to answer at this point. He wasn’t going to out himself to Zoe, but what was he supposed to do?

“Why?” she asked again, though she was more upset.

“B-because he is… uh, nice? He returned something of mine, and we just kept talking So, uh, we’re here.”

“You think my brother is nice?” Evan slowly nodded his head. Zoe let out a laugh. “Evan, my brother is the farthest from nice someone can get.”

“I-I really don’t think that’s true,” Evan mumbled.

“Look, Evan,” Zoe started. “You seem like a nice guy. You even seem like someone who looks for the good in everyone! But you won’t find it in my brother.”

“How—” Evan started, but Zoe interrupted him.

“Whatever side of himself he is showing you, it’s not the truth. I know I may be a shitty sister for saying this, but I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

Before Evan could question her any further, the bell rang, signaling to the duo that their lunch break was over. The hallways quickly started filling up with students and Evan jumped up from the ground, wanting to avoid being trapped between Zoe and his locker.

“I should, uh, go…” Evan mumbled.

“Yeah,” Zoe sighed. Evan grabbed his backpack and quickly joined the flow of students, thoughts spinning.

---

“And just like that, you left?” Connor asked.

It was Friday night, a few days after Zoe and Evan’s conversation. Connor had finally started feeling better so he immediately went over to Evan’s house after he got back from school. Evan didn’t mind. Even if he was afraid to admit it out loud, he had missed Connor, so spending some alone time with him was nice.

If only they didn’t have to talk about his sister and ruin the whole mood.

“Yeah,” Evan sighed. He and Connor were laying down on his bed with Evan laying his head on Connor’s collarbone. Evan was playing with the strings to Connor’s hoodie while Connor gently played with Evan’s hair.

“I can’t believe she thought that you were one of my drug dealers,” Connor scoffed. “ I mean, come on! You don’t even look like someone who has been around weed!”

“Hey! I could be a drug dealer if I wanted,” Evan huffed, lightly hitting Connor’s chest.

“Sure, babe,” Connor drawled sarcastically. “You would be the first person I would go to for a hit, you and all your blue polo and fucking khaki glory.” Evan shot a glare at Connor who just smiled back, fake innocence radiating from him.

“Meanie,” he mumbled, leaning back down to get comfy. Connor laughed at the weak attempt at an insult and Evan beamed. He loved hearing Connor laugh, and it was even better when he could feel it.

“Why was she so evident that I couldn’t be your friend?” Evan asked after a few minutes of silent. Connor tensed up, his hand stopping movement in Evan’s hair and Evan panicked. “You don’t have to answer! It’s fine, I really shouldn’t be asking questions like that—”

“Evan, it’s fine,” Connor interrupted. Evan stayed silent, waiting for Connor to gather his thoughts and continue.

With a deep breath, Connor started. “Well, she doesn’t like me. That much is obivous—so fucking obvious that the tension between the two of us is one of the main topic at breakfast every morning.” Connor let out a laugh, but Evan knew it wasn’t because he was happy or thought it was actually funny. Besides lashing out, humor is how Connor dealt with a lot of issues.

“Ever since I got into drugs, she would try to figure out who my dealers are, try to find a way to stop me. And yeah, I understand where she is coming from, because I also wouldn’t want to be around me when I’m high. I’m not the best person in general, and when I came down from my highs I get worse.”

“You’re a good person!” Evan interjected.

“That’s a conversation for another day,” Connor dodged. Evan almost stopped him again, thinking it was a conversation they should be having now, but he kept quiet. “I have gotten loud and sometimes violent when I came down from my highs, having to come to the realization of shitty I am and how shitty everything around me is, but she has accused me of things I know I would never do, no matter how high or pissed I am.”

Evan was almost afraid to ask. What would Zoe accuse him of?

“You can ask,” Connor assured. Evan gave him an anxious look, almost asking if he was sure that he could. This was common between the couple, with Evan trying to learn to fight past his anxiety and for Connor to let personal questions be asked.

“What has she said you’ve done?” Evan slowly asked. Connor stared up at the ceiling, preparing his answer. Evan grabbed his hand that rested on his head and brought it over his waist. He locked their fingers together and gave Connor’s hand a squeeze.

“She has said that I have threatened to kill her,” Connor choked out. “I know for sure that I haven’t because even if we aren’t on good terms, even if I did fucking hate her, I would never do that to her. I… still love her.”

Evan wanted to cry. Connor honestly talks from a place of hurt, a place of pain. Connor doesn’t have the best support system either, with his family wanting to see him as something that needs to be fixed and him lashing out against everything they do because of that.

Yes, Connor could get better help, turn away from the drugs and start going to therapy, but he doesn’t want to. Evan knows that is the first step to receiving help, or else you are just going to get worse. Did Zoe know that? Did she know that her brother is attempting to cope in his own way? Even if she didn’t, what would make her want to tell Connor and others these things.

“Why would she say that?” Evan asked.

“She hates me.” Connor shrugged his shoulders, attempting to seem nonchalant in this horrible situation. “And honestly? I don’t blame her. I’m a pretty shitty person.”

“No, you’re not,” Evan reiterated. Connor shrugged his shoulder again, brushing off Evan’s concern. Evan wasn’t going to fight it right now. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“She won’t listen. She couldn’t give less of a fuck about my apologies, or about my explanations and even my fucking mental health.”

“Does she know a lot?”

“She caught me trying to kill myself in the past,” he mumbled. Evan didn’t stay anything. What could he say? “So yeah, she knows that there is something fucked up. But she blames me for everything negative that happens.”

“She...there has been things, uh, said about her, right?” Evan mumbled. Connor took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“I’ve heard her say that people call her ‘the freaks brother’ or ‘sister of a shooter’.”

“That’s—” Evan stopped. He is aware that people compare Zoe and Connor all of the time. It was a constant whisper through the halls, people wondering what it was like for Zoe to be ‘the best Murphy’. Calling Zoe those names seems like a double edged way to get at Connor, hurting Zoe in the process.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed. “Everyone is shit. I’ve also heard her tell our mom that she is seen as the ‘freak’s sister’.”

“I’m sorry, Connor,” Evan whispered. “You shouldn’t have to go through that. You deserve so much more, you don’t deserve your sister doubting that you can make friends.”

Connor let out a deep breath. He let go of Evan’s hand and rolled over, pulling Evan closer to his chest.

“Don’t be sorry,” Connor mumbled. He placed a kiss on the top of Evan’s head. “It’s just...life. My family may be shit and our school even shittier, but that’s nothing new.”

Evan tucked his head into Connor’s chest, gripping his jacket with a tight grip. Connor rubbed Evan’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

Silence fell between the two boys as they thought over the conversation.

#Dear Evan Hansen #Evan Hansen #Connor Murphy #Evan x Connor #Evan Hansen x Connor Murphy #Tree Bros #sunwriting #fanfiction

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cravingcrazewriting · 5 years ago

Text

Cut My Hair

Trigger Warning- Mentions of suicide attempt and seizures

Having a brain tumor was never fun.

Everything was fine after junior year. Evan had an internship at Ellison State Park and despite still not having anyone to hang around with, it was still better than other years.

But then his head started to hurt. Then he had a seizure. And before he knew it, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and had to stay at the hospital and be prepared for surgery.

Surgery was extremely expensive, and it wasn't like he or his mom had money for that, but thankfully, his grandmother (on his mom's side) had sent down a check that covered over half of the payment. Evan felt a bit bad that she did that, because she was retired and she should be using that money for herself, not him.

He needed two different types of treatment. Chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Evan hated the radiation therapy, but it did help him. However, the surgery was still inevitable.

But the doctors were worried about a lack of socialization, so they decided to fix that. They decided they'd introduce Evan to another patient who was recently admitted into the hospital.

Someone who had just recently survived a suicide attempt, and was known for being emotionally unstable.

Yeah, that was definitely a smart idea.

Evan met him randomly at one point of day, with no warning whatsoever. Well, no forewarning, because the nurse came in and told him the mystery patient was coming in. Still, it wasn't enough time to mentally prepare himself.

The latter was named Connor, and he had long, brown hair that stopped at the bottom his chest. The normal hospital scrubs revealed red healing scars on his arms. He was like any other generic hospital patient, with heavy bags under his eyes.

"Sorry in advance that you're being dragged into my bullshit," Connor had mumbled, crossing his arms. "I'm Connor Murphy. You probably go to the same school as me, because there's only our school and the private school, and I'm positive I've seen you around."

That shouldn't have meant as much to Evan as it should've, but he was used to be forgetful, a single thought, in one ear and out the other, an outcast, but at least someone noticed him a little bit. "Y-Yeah, er, Eastwood High, r-right?"

Connor snapped his fingers. "Right! It's.. Evan, right? Evan Hansen? People pick... on you.." and he trails off, as a daunting truth falls on him. That he noticed Evan was being picked on, but didn't do anything. "I get picked on, too. I thought I'd make it worse if I tried interfering," he said defensively.

That piece of information doesn't scathe Evan, however, as he's finally been seen, and not as an inconvenience, not as the family friend, not as the burden full son, just another outcast at school, and as sad as that is, he can't help but mind it. Connor is just barely above him in the school's chain, but that only makes him more prime of a target. He doesn't find it very fair, but he'd never find the courage to smack talk the popular kids.

"N-no, no, you're okay! I.. I get it. And I'm Evan, yes," Evan was smiling like a huge dork, but he couldn't help it. He was finally seen, after so long, and even if the situation wasn't ideal, it still meant the world to him.

Connor was obviously trying to hold back a smile, but was failing. "So Hansen, got any hobbies?"

And Evan was off, talking about how before the doctors discovered his brain tumor that he had interned as an apprentice ranger at Ellison, and that he learned a ton about trees, and told Connor a little bit about it. Connor didn't make fun of him about it, though, unlike Jared, who'd say Evan must've had a tree kink or something, which was just a dick move because there wasn't a lot of things that sparked Evan's interest like that. Connor, in fact, talked about how everyone needed to help clean the environment and apparently he was passionate about that, so they had a common interest (Evan though, at least. He was never sure).

They hung out a lot and just talked. It made Evan feel normal, like there wasn't something inside his brain trying to kill him.

Jared visited with his family, and he actually seemed to feel bad for Evan. He'd purchased a small potted plant to help brighten up his hospital room. Evan appreciated it greatly.

Nearing the end of the week, Connor had told him he was going to be released at the start of the next week, and asked Evan for his number. Of course they exchanged numbers.

Evan wanted to spend as much time as possible with Connor, but it was growing harder for him to focus or not be throwing his guts out. He was having more seizures than ever.

Apparently this meant that the surgery had to be moved to an earlier date.

Evan didn't get a chance to tell Connor because it happened so fast. He felt incredibly bad. One minute his mom was talking to the surgeon, and the next he was given antibiotics to knock him out.

He had rested a lot, feeling weak from the surgery. It was successful according to the surgeon, which was a huge relief to him and his mother.

Did he forget to mention he had to get his head completely shaved? It felt embarrassing, but Heidi tried to help. She bought him a dark blue beanie so no one would bug him that much.

Evan was soon able to muster enough strength to look at his phone. He received a shit ton from Connor regarding the surgery.

Connor:

The nurses aren't letting me see u. Is everything ok?

Connor:

I tried asking them but they won't answer

Connor:

Ev, what's going on?

Connor:

Ev?

Connor:

I'm kinda freaked out. Pls respond asap

Connor:

Holy shit

Connor:

Ur mom told me. I'm sorry

Connor:

I hope it goes well

Connor:

Hey!! Heard the surgery went ok. How're u feeling?

Connor:

Heidi said ur resting. I'll leave u be

Connor:

Ok I lied

Connor:

I miss talking with u. But u need rest

Connor:

We'll hang out this summer, right? I'm somehow not going to rehab

Connor:

Fuck, I'll stop now. Just respond when ur better

Evan sighed. Connor claimed not to be talkative, but this proved otherwise. It was just too exhausting to try and corollate words that he pulled up SnapChat and took a photo of his bedsheets. He added a caption saying "hey, sorry I scared you" before sending it to the latter.

After a few minutes, Connor had responded with a picture of where his door used to reside. "It's okay," the caption read, "it isn't your fault"

A picture of the heart monitor was sent next. "What happened to your door?"

Connor sent back a picture of his black sketchbook. It wasn't opened. "Dad took it down. He thinks it'll help monitor me"

Evan moved the conversation to a chat, because he was running out of things to take pictures of, and switching apps seemed like a hassle to him.

"Well, he's trying"

"Can I tell you something?"

Of course, this made Evan anxious, but he knew Connor. In the five days they were together they already were growing close, probably because they were both incredibly lonely. Cliche as it might've sounded to anyone else, but Evan trusted him.

"Sure what is it?"

But of course Evan didn't get a response right away. SnapChat sent him a message saying 'Connor Murphy is typing...", and after he pulled up their conversation, there was the ever long three blue dots waiting for him, signaling that Connor was typing a response. But he took forever and it didn't help the anxiety quelling in his chest.

Then, he finally got a response.

"I like you. Like, a lot more than I probably should. And I know it's stupid, because we've only known each other for a week, but I know you're different than everyone else. You actually listen to me, you make me feel safe, and I don't want to loose you. I get it if you don't like the school shooter or whatever, I just don't want to loose you. Please."

And, of course Evan was flattered, and it was hard to corollate what he wanted to say through text, but he didn't want to keep Connor waiting so he could spiral, so he frantically typed out a response.

"I don't think it's stupid. I think it's super sweet, and I like you back. Even if you don't believe it, I'll do everything I can to prove it to you (also, don't call yourself a school shooter. You're so much more than that)"

Evan remembered how the next day Connor had came in, holding huge stuffed bear for him, smiling sheepishly as he set it on his bed, and asked him out on a date to A La Mode when he was released.

Evan had enthusiastically accepted, and couldn't help but anticipate the date.

Connor never made a big deal out of his hair being cut off. He did know Evan was self conscious of it, and made an effort to kiss the back of his head and reassure him that he didn't care about his lack of hair.

As much as this helped, Evan felt like he was being stared at in public, and he kept his head down, eyes glued to the floor. He did however notice Connor glaring at anyone who muttered a thing about it, or looked at him the wrong way.

One day, when he watching Chopped out of boredom, he received a text message from Connor, asking if he could come over. Evan told him he was more than fine with it, and waited for the latter to arrive.

What he wasn't expecting was Connor, with ear length hair.

"What, what h-happened? Did your dad, d-did he make you cut it?" Evan of course liked it, he thought it was cute, but it didn't stop his anxiety from going haywire.

"Nope," he popped the 'p', smiling, hiding something behind his back. "I did it willingly. Can you let me inside so I'll show you your surprise?"

Evan nodded, moving out of his way so Connor could step into the house. Afterwards, Connor said, "Now close your eyes, and take off your beanie."

Evan didn't know what that had to do with anything but complied, awkwardly standing there as he listened to Connor rummage through a paper bag, and felt something soft being placed onto his head.

Connor carefully put the beanie back on afterwards and gently took ahold of his shoulders. "Alrighty, now follow my lead."

Evan tried his best not to stumble around as Connor lead him to who knew where in his house. He felt Connor stop and stopped as well.

"Okay, you can open your eyes!" Connor told him, and he sounded oddly excited.

Evan slowly opened his eyes and gasped. There on his head, sat a brown wig, and his beanie was placed on top of it. It was styled a bit like Connor's, but it stopped near the end of his neck.

"Connor! Holy shit, h-how'd you do this?" Evan turned to him.

Connor was smiling and shifting from foot to foot. "Cynthia knows someone who makes wigs, so I went to her shop and cut my hair for your wig."

"You didn't have to do this..." he said softly.

"Evan, I'd cut my hair a million times if it'd make you happy," Connor took his hands and held them.

Evan swung them back and forth. "You're.. god. You're so amazing, but like, really corny, too."

Connor snorted. "Wow, I'm feeling the love, all right."

"Hey, thanks for, you know, doing this," Evan gently brushed a bang out of Connor's face.

"Well how else was I supposed to make you get a matching hair color?"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

#dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #deh #treebros #connor #evan #convan

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afictionaladventure16 · 6 years ago

Text

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously On The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: foul language, mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1,200

Chapter 9

Letter #9

November 20th, 2017

It’s been a week since he sent his letter and usually, Chris would have had a response within two days but this time it was different. Two days after sending his letter he noticed that he had yet received anything, thinking nothing of it, Chris went along with his day.

Three days after sending his letter, once again, nothing. Chris tried not to think much about it but his mind couldn’t help but wonder. On the fifth day, that’s when Chris began to panic.

Now on the seventh day, he tried his hardest to remain calm while in Dr. Holt’s office, “so, yeah, I think it’s helped me a lot.” Dr. Holt began to notice Chris’s leg was jumping, a sign that he was anxious.

“Alright, so, tell me what’s making you anxious?”

Chris looked at her confused, she then gestured towards his leg and instantly placed his hand on his leg. Chris sighed, “she hasn’t replied in a week.”

“Okay?”

“She never takes that long to reply, it’s usually a couple of days.”

She sighed, “alright, let’s give it another week if she doesn’t reply then I will talk to my colleague and see what’s going on. How does that sound?”

It sounded like a lot of waiting for Chris, “alright,” he said softly.

“But overall, this has been working for you? Talking to someone with similar experiences?”

Chris gave her a nod, “yeah.”

The session was quick but Dr. Holt did explain that their sessions wouldn’t last long because of the project. Chris said his goodbyes and left to his car, deciding it was worth a shot to go to the post office. Chris prepared himself for the letter to not be there, he opened the small PO box and let out a relieving sigh as he noticed the small envelope inside. He quickly grabbed it and closed the box, he walked over to his car.

Opening the letter as soon as he sat down.

Dear Chris,

I am sorry for the late reply, my friends surprised me with Disneyland tickets and we were gone all weekend! I do apologize for having you wait so long!

Alright, this is my first try but I’m gonna say, Chrissy??? I’m really hoping that’s it.

As a matter of fact, I have, turns out he volunteers every day, at the hospital nearby as a baby cuddler. He just became an even sweeter person. He also told me stories about Vietnam, losing his best friend in the war and even going as far as naming his son after him in honor of his memory. It was an experience talking to him, I will definitely do it again.

I’ve been wanting to take get back on track with my photography, I’ve even had a coworker say that her friends needed a photographer for their show in a couple of nights. I’ve done a couple of shows in the past, it’s what I had planned on doing for my life, becoming a music photographer but like I’ve stated before. Shit happens.

I went to Germany, to live with my brother for a couple of months. Visited, Paris, London, Prague, and Poland. I would love to travel their again, something about traveling just makes me feel free. Happy in a way.

A huge pain! Don’t even get me started! But yes, even though they are a pain in the ass I love my siblings no matter what!

I did, so like, deal with it!

Nice choice! I personally would’ve gone with a dragon but like whatever.

Ugghhhh!! I hate your question!!!! I refuse to answer. God dammit! Ugh! Why do you do this to me, Chris? Or should I say, Chrissy? ;) I would have to choose…. Goofy. He always made me laugh as a child and laughter was always the best medicine. I just loved him so much.

Now for my question… Favorite Disney princess?

Later Vader.

P.S.

One day you will see my wrath and you will regret ever saying that.

P.P.S.

This is probably going off topic, but what were some of your triggers for your anxiety?

But that is an amazing way to look at things. I tend to just listen to music when I have an anxiety attack, along with some breathing exercises. I think it’s funny how quickly we forget to breathe when our brain just decides to turn on itself. People tell me to “just breathe and I’ll be fine” like it’s so easy, but it’s not.

Thank you, Chris. But we all have to go through some sort of emotional trauma in life, right? In order to learn from them. Or at least that’s the way I think about things. I just so happen to have more learning to do than others I guess.

As for my biological father, I haven’t met him. Nor do I think I will ever want to. There is at times where I want to get to know that part of me but I don’t know, there is no hurry in this need to know this man. Even then, I wouldn’t know how to approach the situation.

Chris sighed to himself, grabbing his notebook he had left in his car and a pen.

He spent the next thirty minutes in the car writing, once he was finished he placed it in the envelope, walking back inside the post office and placing it inside the slot to send out.

Chris made his way back home, feeling so relieved to know that Julie was okay. He spotted an unfamiliar car in the driveway, he furrowed his eyebrows and parked his car. Getting out of the car he walked up to the door, seeing her. “Jenny,” he stated in shock.

“I was in town,” she said quietly, “and I thought I would come by to see you and see how you were doing.”

Chris scoffed as he shook his head, “well, you can see I’m doing perfectly fine, thanks for stopping by,” he walked passed her but she placed her hand on his arm.

Chris stopped and looked at her, “I miss you, Chris.”

If she were here three months earlier Chris might’ve responded quicker, he might’ve said something that she wanted to hear. Chris smiled, “thanks for stopping by, Jenny.”

She sighed and let go of his arm, “that’s it then?”

“Well, what do you want me to say? That I miss you? Because I don’t. As harsh as it sounds, I don’t miss you. I’m actually fine.” Chris smiled, “I’m more than fine, really. Look, I loved you, Jenny and I always will, but I don’t love you in that way anymore.” He sighed, “I really hope life treats you well, Jenny.”

Jenny could see it in Chris’s eyes that he was true to his word, “alright,” she whispered. Chris watched as she walked over to her car, she waved at him one last time before driving off. Chris didn’t think he was ever really over Jenny, but seeing her today, just confirmed that he was. He has moved on.

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno @crisferorav @the-sunshine-in-the-dark

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hoeassproductions · 6 years ago

Text

Break A Leg: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own, possess, or have any links to Chris Evans, nor do I profit off of this work. Any claims otherwise are grossly misleading. This work is not to be posted anywhere else without my explicit permission. If you would like to be added to the tag list, reply here or send me an ask. I’d be happy to add you! Happy reading! Word Count: ~1,500

No Vulnerability Spared

I don't know what is going on in his head but I can tell he needs to go. I think fast and take a chance. I lean over and whisper to him, “It's OK, get ready to leave.”

He nods slowly and I pull out my cell to call his phone, praying the sound is on. His back pocket begins to ring and he apologizes to everyone then gets up to leave the room.

I send him a quick text telling him that I will come if he needs me. Almost instantly a reply comes.

C: Please.

I get up to find him knowing all eyes are on me. I walk outside the doors, my eyes searching. Down the hall, I see a hand waving from around the corner. I find Chris there, his backside leaning against the wall and his head between his knees. I kneel before him and rub his shoulders.

“Hey, it's alright. You're safe. I'm here.”

Before I can react, he launches himself into my arms. He grabs on to me and I can feel him shaking.

“Chris, you need to breathe honey.”

I hold him as I whisper words of encouragement in his ear. I feel him begin to calm down and I lean back to hold his head in my hands and look him in his eyes.

“Are you here with me?” I question.

As my words register, he gives a slight nod.

“Are you ready to talk or…?”

In answer, he clutches me close again. I measure our breathing, rub his back and wait until he is ready.

“Y/N, let me explain…”

“No, it's OK. You don't need to” I reply. “I just want to make sure you're alright. I was worried…”

“I was having a panic attack. Anxiety of the unknown is one of my stressors that can trigger panic. Sandra was talking about addressing our fears and having trust but right now, I don't have that with anyone in there. The reality is, those are things I have a hard time addressing given my… status…even outside of here. Let alone with a room full of people I barely know anything about, yet can google me and know my whole life with a couple strokes of their thumbs. Trying to do whatever she was getting at… I'm not there. The only person I feel like I can do that with here… is you.”

He looks me in the eyes and I can see the shame and embarrassment he feels about the situation, along with something else I can't quite place.

“Listen, you're preaching to the choir here. I don't know these people. I'm not about to get into all of my deep dark secrets with them either. Don't be embarrassed. We’re in this together. Didn't you say that to me?”

Chris nods sheepishly and begins to chuckle. “You got me there.”

“Chris, if I'm being honest, you're the only person here I trust enough to do that with too and that scares the hell out of me. YOU scare the hell out of me.”

“Me? Why would I...?”

He reads my eyes, and in this moment I feel raw and vulnerable.

I've said too much.

“Y/N…” he says as tears well in my eyes and it’s his turn to comfort me. He puts his arms around me and tucks me into his chest, trying to soothe me.

Chris leans back from our embrace just enough to see my face. His eyes lock onto mine, expressing a tenderness I wasn’t expecting. “Y/N…” he whispers as he leans his face towards mine. Shaking takes over my body for a completely different reason.

I close my eyes. I can feel his breath on my face and lick my lips in anticipation.

A door opening down the hall snaps us back to the reality of what is about to happen. Chris looks around the corner and sees Sandra. I can hear her call out his name as if she hadn't spotted him yet. He pulls his head back and yanks us up, putting a finger in front of his mouth as the universal signal to be quiet. He smiles at me and tugs me down the hall behind him. We cross another corner and he picks up his speed.

”Come on”

We run until we find a door leading outside. Once in the fresh air, we begin laughing like little kids. “Follow me” he says and he takes off in the direction of our cabins.

Assuming I know our destination, I slow down as we reach them.

“No Y/N, this way.” He heads for the woods a few yards away. I follow him if out of nothing more than curiosity.

“Chris, where are you taking me?”

“You'll like it. I promise. It's not far.”

We walk just a little further and cross into a clearing that has a meadow next to a pond with a dock leading to the water.

“I didn't know this was here. How did you find it?”

“I always like to have secluded places to go when it gets to be too much like it did back there. I found it the night of the bonfire. Beautiful sunset here.”

“I'm sure. You've been holding out on me Evans.” I say as I kneel to sit on the edge of the dock which is luckily cool due to shade cover this time of day

He sits next to me and I take in the area. “I can see why this would be calming. It's beautiful.”

“One of my biggest fears,” he begins, “is that my job won't allow me to have the life I want. Having a family, being a dad, is all I want. It will leave a more important mark on the world, on my world, than any gig I could ever get. But I'm worried work will keep me from having the one person that I can have all of that with. That people only want to be with me because of my status. I enjoyed that in the beginning, but now I'm tired of it. I want to settle down and have that steady lifestyle. If I could find that person for me, I'd give the rest of it up in a heartbeat.”

Listening to his words, I realize I have a similar fear. Instead of reacting to his fear, I answer with one of my own

“I fear that I'm unlovable in a way. When I love, I love hard. I will move heaven and Earth for those I care about and I can be loyal almost to a fault. I’m worried that the love I have to offer won't be reciprocated in the way that I need and I'll never find a person who will love me the way that I love them. It's really hard to think about how much time I've spent loving the wrong people because I stayed in relationships hoping that they would be able to love me back the way that I loved them. I only left the relationships more heartbroken than when I entered them. I don't take relationships or dating lightly because of it. It's hard to make myself vulnerable when I've been proven time and time again that the love I have to give isn't enough. That I’m not enough.”

We enter a heavy silence following our admissions. Then abruptly, Chris says, “I'm afraid of spiders.”

“I'm afraid of sharks in any depth of water ever. I know it's completely irrational for them to be in a pool but I worry about it.”

We both laugh outright at this, almost in tears. “Oh man, that is rich. I feel you on that one,” he says.

Pulling us out of our laughing phase, Chris’ phone rings and we share a mutual glance of worry as he fishes it out of his pocket, afraid our episode of hooky is coming to an end.

“It's OK” he indicates. “It's my mom” he says as he raises the phone to his ear.

“Hey Ma,” he answers. “Yes, I'm sitting here with her now.”

When he says this he looks over at me, catches my surprised expression, and he gives me a boyish grin continuing to answer her. “Yes it was fine. Going fairly well so far. No Ma, I'm not going to ask her. OK, alright hold on.” He pulls the phone from his ear and scrunches his face at me. “She wants to know if she can talk to you,” he asks.

“Uh, sure!” I say, completely dumbfounded as I grab the phone. “Mrs. Evans, Hi”

“Oh please, call me Lisa. I hope you are both enjoying your retreat! Chris isn’t being too irritable is he? I warned him to watch himself.”

“I’ve done my best to take care of him but he certainly has a mind of his own.”

“I’m sure you have dear. Chris has told me all about you. Doesn’t speak about much else these days while I’m around. You seem like such a nice woman, but don’t be afraid to give him some hell to keep him in line. He needs that sometimes.”

“So I am learning. But he’s pretty much a teddy bear from what I can gather. No macho man in sight here” I giggle at him as he hangs his head with a smirk.

“I actually wanted to thank you for keeping an eye on him around work. I know it’s a new environment for you as well, but he’s told me about the conversations you have had to make sure he understands what he’s getting into. As a mother, I’m grateful to know he has someone there to look out for him on a personal level beyond the professional. I hope you will consider coming over soon after your retreat ends. I’d love to meet you, and welcome you to the family properly.”

“I can assure you he looks out for me as much as I look out for him. He’s quite the protector, this one.” I can see his his chest rise with pride as he hears my side of the conversation. “Of course I would love to come over for proper introductions. Please let me know what I can bring, and when would be good for you.”

“That makes me so happy to hear. I can’t wait! I’ll be in touch, I’m sure you want to get back to the festivities. Thank you again, Y/N. You’re clearly an amazing woman. I can tell what Chris sees in you. I’ll talk to you later dear.”

“Bye Lisa, talk to you soon.” I say as I begin to feel my heart race at her words.

What has he been telling her?

Previous Next

A/N: SO...... when I initially sat down to write chapter 10, I had zero intention or thought of how this played out. This whole chapter never factored into the story line for me. It just came, and I’m actually really happy with how this plays out for Y/N and Chris. Vulnerability is a bitch but sometimes the only option. I hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to be added to the taglist, you know what to do! :)

Tags: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @beccaheartschrisevans @avenger-nerd-mom @mycapt-ohcapt-writes @mad-for-marvel @vanillabeanlattes @captain-ariel-barnes @emilyevanston @thewife101cevans@loricameback @plussizeappreciationfics @a-tale-of-two-comics @melodramaticfanatic @writingcreatingstorytelling@kirstie-lotr @mywritingsblog @disney-fire-fox@harrinoodles @lookwhatyoumademequeue @janeyboo@aglarelen @purelyfictionallife @shallowshawn @cevansgirl@mrs-captain-evans@randomcevans @nomadicpixel @elivanah@katiew1973 @symonlyjen5 @tchitchou26@mackevanstanfan80 @unicornpurplelife

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #rpf fic #Break A Leg #Chapter 10 #my writing

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 6 years ago

Text

Of Phone Calls and Letters

Alternatively, this could be titled “I am a Procrastinator”.

Here’s chapter 1 of sweet words, told from Evan’s perspective. This chapter and maybe the next are probably the most canon-y (minus the very obvious differences)

Read the prologue here | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Trigger warnings: mentioned suicide, mentioned drug use

Chapter 1

***

“Oh, he’s going to ruin your life.”

“Jared.”

“I mean, that’s what I would do.”

“Jared.”

“I mean, he’s Connor Murphy, who gives a shi-”

“Jared.”

“What?”

“That’s not-he wouldn’t-” Evan struggled for a second, struggling to find the right words. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“How would you know? He threw a printer at Mrs. G in second grade. He’d do anything.”

“Because we’re friends, alright?” Evan spit out suddenly, unable to handle Jared’s taunts. “We’re friends, or, or at least we used to be, but we fought over the summer and-and we hadn’t talked but he stormed off with the letter and-and shit, I’m actually worried about him.”

It’s quiet on the other line for a moment. “Really?”

“Yes, really, and I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so upset-” Evan could hear the emotion creeping into his own voice, but the reason he stopped was because of Jared. “Hey, are you good? You just kinda, uh? Stopped talking.”

“Huh?” Jared said suddenly, his tone different than Evan had heard before. Maybe it was only because Evan had known him for so long, but he could practically hear the gears spinning in Jared’s head across the phone. “No, I, um, I was just thinking, you know-secret friends no one knows about who have a mysterious falling out? That’s like, the perfect formula for high school gay lovers-”

Some combination of his nerves and the odd way in which Jared was acting made Evan say, “Do you ever stop projecting onto other people?”

There was a slight pause on the other end, before Jared managed a quiet, “Damn, Hansen, really throwing the punches tonight.”

“Oh my god, no, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so sorry-”

“No, shit, you’re fine. I’m kidding. It was a joke” Although something in his tone held a note of definitely not kidding, Evan decided to let it slide.

“So, should I, should I call him? Or should I, wait no. I can’t call him, what if he’s furious with me?”

“Evan. Take three deep breaths.” Jared’s tone had become businesslike again, and Evan felt a bit of relief. “Look, I’ll spell it out for you. You two have your... friendship, which fell apart, so he pushed you in the fucking hallway because of, I don’t know, unresolved trauma and guilt or some shit, and felt bad about it so he came to apologize until he read about your creepy crush on his sister in your weird sex note-”

“It’s not a sex note-”

“-and obviously he was overcome with a jealous rage that he no longer held your affections-”

“Jared!”

“-and stormed off in a blind rage, where he’ll probably get high and skip school for a week before his parents find out and force him to go back.”

“That’s-no-that’s not what- you really think so?” The quiet desperation in Evan’s voice annoyed even him, much less Jared.

“I mean,” Jared seemed to be back to his old cocky self, “probably. He’s Connor Murphy.”

***

The vague anxiety for both himself and Connor followed Evan for the next few days, punctuated by the absence of both Zoe and Connor from school. Of course, Jared’s thoughts of Connor ‘ruining his life’ lost Evan some sleep, but his main fears rested in this being the final straw for their friendship.

Or worse, the final straw for Connor.

All of these fears only spiked when he was called to the principal’s office several days into the school year.

“Uh, is Mr. Howard...”

Evan stopped short as he slowly recognized the couple sitting in the office.

“I just, sorry, they said on the loudspeaker for me to come to the Principal’s office.”

“Mr. Howard is, uh, he stepped out.” The gray-haired man, seated on a small couch in the office next to a rather put-together red haired woman, indicated a seat opposite himself. Although they were both impeccably dressed and put together, a few signs of durress shone through-the woman’s eyes appeared to be red and watery under her eye makeup, and the man’s hand clenched and unclenched on the arm of the couch.

They were Larry and Cynthia Murphy, Connor and Zoe’s parents.

Evan’s heart seized with a rush of panic.

“We wanted to speak to you in private,” Larry shifted a little on the couch, gesturing to a chair opposite. “If you’d like to, maybe...”

He sat slowly, shrinking down in the chair, picking a little at his cast, which remained partially obscured from Larry and Cynthia across from him to hide the fact that his cast had Connor’s name scrawled on it in giant letters.

Larry cleated his throat. Cynthia sniffled. Evan shifted.

Eventually, Larry said, quite gently, “we’re, uh... we’re Connor’s parents.”

All Evan could manage was a small “oh?”

Shakily, Cynthia pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse, as Larry began a “why don’t you go ahead, honey-”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Cynthia snapped, clearly close to a breaking point.

“That’s not what I said, is it?”

Cynthia ignored him, her gaze pointedly fixed at the wall. She then turned to Evan, holding out the piece of paper with an odd kind of reverence, as though it were a lifeline. Slowly, she said, “this is...Connor...he wanted you to have this.”

Evan took the paper from Cynthia, who clung to it till the very last second as though she were afraid it would disappear as she let go. He unfolded the paper gently, heart racing, feeling the weight of Larry and Cynthia’s eyes on him.

His note. It’s his note, staring up at him from this paper.

But why?

Larry cut in as Evan stared down at the note. “We didn’t...we hadn’t heard your name before, Connor never...but then we saw... ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’”

“He, um,” Evan shifted a bit, turning to look more at Larry than the paper, “he gave you this?”

“We didn’t know you were friends.”

Evan looked up quickly, paper momentarily forgotten in his grip, shocked that they knew. Had Connor told them? “Uh, yes but-but what-?”

Larry cut in again, seemingly almost to himself more than Evan. “We didn’t think that Connor had any friends. And then we see this note and it’s, it seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor were, or at least for Connor, he thought of you as...I mean, it’s right there. ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ It’s addressed to you.” Larry paused for a moment, his voice having died in his throat. “He wrote it to you.”

Evan swallowed, not quite sure what to say. “I’m sorry, but what-why-you think he wrote this to me?”

Cynthia nodded, eyes full of tears. “These are the words he wanted to share with you. His...last words.”

“This is what he wanted to leave you with.” Larry added, eyes downcast, voice laced with regret.

All Evan could manage was “I’m sorry...his last words?”

At this, Cynthia began actually crying, actively trying to conceal sobs. Larry appeared to be close to his wife’s situation, but holding it together much more. Clearing his throat, he said “Connor...uh...Connor took his own life.”

“He...what?” Evan half-whispered, eyes traveling back down to the paper.

For the first time, he noticed something scribbled at the bottom.

He looked quickly, seeing Connor’s familier blocky scrawl.

Dear Evan Hansen,

It’s not your fault.

Suddenly, the world tilted around him, the reality of his situation coming to a sharp focus in his mind.

Connor was dead, and they never made up.

His mind a whirl of thoughts, the only real ones he could find were Connor is dead, Connor is dead, Connor is dead, Connor killed himself, Connor’s gone, it should have been you, it should have been you, it should have been me, you could’ve saved him, you should’ve saved him, you needed to save him, he’s dead, you should be dead-

A sob tore through his chest, his note and his note gripped tightly in his hands seen through blurred tears. But no, this note, the last thing Connor ever said, the only thing rooting him to reality was gently being pulled from his hands.

“I didn’t... I didn’t...” Evan choked out through breaths, feeling tears streaming down his face but unable to stop it. “He’s...” His words choked off, but his eyes asked a million questions of the Murphys.

Larry was the only one who could speak. “This is all we found with him. It was folded up in his pocket. You can see that he’s...he wanted to explain why he was...” he struggled for a moment, blinking back tears, before indicating the piece of paper, which he thrust back to Evan. “‘I wish everything was different. I wish I were a part of something. I wish that what I said mattered to anyone.’”

“Please stop, Larry,” Cynthia choked, looking imploringly at Evan, her gaze probing.

“I...I didn’t...”

Evan looked up, meeting Cynthia’s eyes fully for the first time. The deep sorrow he saw there only choked him up further, rendered him nearly incapable of speaking. “Connor didn’t... I...” he shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. “Can I, can I please go now?”

“He’s clearly in shock,” Larry said, turning to Cynthia.

This was plainly the wrong thing for Cynthia. “This is all we have. This is the only thing we have left.”

Evan shifted in his seat again, and Larry caught sight of something. He followed Larry’s gaze, seeing the choppy letters Connor had printed on his cast.

“Look,” he said slowly, drawing Cynthia’s attention. “Look. His cast...his best and most dearest friend.”

Evan could see the spiral in which this conversation was going. He was unsure of whether to jump ship while he still could, or stick it out.

But then the words Connor is dead floated back up, with a fresh wave of tears, and he couldn’t imagine leaving his parents-or himself-with that so freshly engraved in his memory.

“Please...” Cynthia leaned forward, weeping, grabbing slightly at Evan’s arm. “Please. He’s...you’re...it’s all we have left.”

“Come to dinner,” Larry said gently. “Any night that works for you. We’d... we’d love to get to know you, Evan.”

Evan nodded blindly, slowly, feeling as though he were moving through a tunnel.

“Thank you,” Cynthia said, sounding as though she had had the weight of the world lifted off of her shoulders. “Thank you.”

#dear evan hansen #deh #evan hansen #my fanfic #larry murphy #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #jared kleinman #deh fanfiction #deh au #deh fanfic #my fanfiction #mine #my works #when the sweet words and fevers all leave us right here in the cold #suicide tw #suicide mention

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eury--dice · 6 years ago

Text

To Numb the Pain

hey here’s that Zoe angst I was talking about

generally just the trigger warnings common for DEH; suicide, anxiety, depression, alcoholism (please let me know if there’s anything else you want me to mention in a/n or tag)

please scream with me about Zoe Murphy

***

Disassociation came naturally to Zoe Murphy.

Sure, Connor had his coping methods. Growing up in their stressy, unnatural family had forced the Murphy siblings to find some escape.

Connor turned to drugs. Zoe forced herself not to care. When she started to care, she told herself, she’d lose her mind. She’d go crazy, like her mother, or shut down, like her father. Or worse, go off the deep end like Connor.

Apathy was easiest.

So she shut herself off to Connor’s downward spiral that could only end in pain. She ignored her mother’s desperate attempts to make them a normal family. She pretended she didn’t notice the stench of alchohol on her father’s breath and the bottles that emptied day after day.

That numbed the pain, a little bit.

Deep down, she knew they were bound to crash, and her walls would be forced down, and years of unwanted and acknowledged pain would come flooding in.

But that was someday, not now.

***

Zoe Murphy never cried when she was angry.

Years of arguments with Connor had forced her to control her every move. She could deliver any line, any blow, coolly and devastating, her face a mask, words and shouts deflecting off of her skin. The taunts and jeers did stick, however, though you’d never be able to tell. They sunk in, embedding in her brain, becoming a chorus of words rattling in her skull.

She didn’t acknowledge it. She didn’t let it phase her.

Even when the words made a lump stick in her throat, or tears prick her eyes, she forced them down. Deflected the course of action with a spat insult, or a screamed distraction.

Zoe wouldn’t let herself care enough to cry, because that would mean she opened herself up to the suffering of her family. If she cried, it meant she cared about them.

***

When the cops found Connor, she didn’t want to cry.

She didn’t want to.

Her mother, of course, burst into tears, throwing her arms around Zoe’s neck. Her father only clenched his jaw and looked down, a vein working on is forehead, hiding whatever tears were present, probably already thinking about the bottle of whiskey stashed in the drawer of his desk in his home office.

When, three days later, Evan Hansen showed up at the house, fidgeting and quiet and apparently expected, she didn’t want to care about it.

But something about Evan’s arrival made her press.

Why were they friends, if Connor pushed Evan at school the day he killed himself? Why was Evan the only one to see the brother Zoe once had when he slipped into a cycle of drugs and abuse and isolation?

Her façade remained for the entirety of dinner, while her mother cried and father was there without being there, not really, and Evan’s words sunk into her ears and forced their way into her brain.

In her room, she couldn’t distract the memories swirling in her brain of a brother who hugged her instead of trying to punch her, told her he loved her instead of trying to kill her, who brought light and humor instead of anxiety and pain.

She didn’t cry for the Connor who died by his own hand, too cowardly to talk to his own sister, who apparently had held his life in the balance and fumbled it. She cried for the Connor who had died six years before when the bright eyed boy was filled with demons that wouldn’t cease. Filled with grief for the two ghosts now by her side, she only mourned the Connor that Evan brought back that day.

And so did he.

***

Zoe Murphy found herself caring , for the first time in too long, because of Evan Hansen.

Because Connor had cared. Connor had cared, and so she could try to care, too.

As the news of Evan’s speech sent shockwaves around the Internet, Zoe watched the impact. She let the words play around in her head, knocking and bumping and thoroughly making her care.

Connor had cared. Evan cares.

For once, she didn’t need to remove herself.

So she kissed Evan, wanting to be fully present, because for once another’s presence didn’t make her want to shrink away or pretend. He was the only one she let herself be fully present, fully real with.

And they became Zoe and Evan.

She was his and he was hers with every joke and laugh and kiss. They were them in every hug and tear and smile. And when he had an anxiety attack, which was never as often as before, she knew when to press him and when to give him space and how to best de-escalate the situation. And when she needed someone to listen to her rant or cry about nothing with or talk about her problems with, he was there and listening. And when they were together, he was present, and she was present, and they were present and they were Zoe and Evan and it was strange but it was beautiful and it just felt right, somehow, even though he was anxious and cared too much and she was bold and cared too little, because they were fighting the past and the future and the present together, and they knew that all they needed was the other at their side.

***

They were Zoe and Evan.

Disassociation came naturally to Zoe Murphy, but as Evan Hansen stood in front of their dining room table, crying and spouting out words that only half registered in her mind, still reeling over the things she had just read about strangers inviting the internet to abuse her openly like Connor had already done, she couldn’t bring herself to stop being present, because they were Zoe and Evan and she could always care when they were Zoe and Evan, right? She could open up and be present and vulnerable and open to her pain and take on the world because they were Zoe and Evan, two halves of a whole, utterly present and real and the only place she was truly Zoe and he was truly Evan-

And then tears were pricking her eyes, and everything Evan had told them was a lie, none of it was true, it was all built on lies, Zoe and Evan was a lie-

Because with Zoe and Evan she was in the moment, and alive, and happy, but how can you be happy when you aren’t really there? How, Evan? How could they be whole if one half wasn’t supporting the other? How could he feel that same security and love she had when he wasn’t there, not really? Not in the way he’s supposed to have been.

And then she can’t take it, because the security of Zoe and Evan is gone, and her years of holding it all back are rushing in, and it’s not just Evan that’s making tears flood her eyes. And she was rushing away because if she doesn’t, she might just stay rooted in that feeling of despair forever, Evan’s watery, beautiful eyes drilling into hers, landing blow after blow to her heart.

Zoe Murphy never cried when she was angry, because she wouldn’t allow herself to care about anything. But the memory of the first I love you filled her brain halfway up the stairs to her room and stopped her dead in her tracks, a sob escaping her body as she finally gave in and turned to sit on a stair, her socked feet one stair below hers, knees drawn to her chest. It had slipped out of his mouth only two days before, after the disaster known as the dinner with Evan’s mom and her parents, and he was so sweet and nervous but less than fourty-eight hours later it’s all- and she had said it back-

Nestled somewhere in the back of her mind, Zoe realized that wasn’t the first time. Not really the first time, for him anyway. Because when he told her all that stuff Connor knew- he- that was him saying it. Not passing along a message from her brother. Sending his own.

And so, y’know, I think he had a lot of trouble saying that he- that he, um... that he uh, loved you guys. Especially- especially when it was you? He didn’t know, er, didn’t know how to say “I love you” since you two were, um, you were a-a million worlds apart, you know? He didn’t know where to start.

And then he had kissed her.

Was that the start of everything? Was that when she began to pull herself back into the present? Was that when she began to feel her heart beat faster when he came over, ignoring the way her stomach flipped?

Was that when she began wanting to feel again?

***

Zoe Murphy never cried when she was angry, or frustrated, or sad, and never in front of anyone else. But, when she saw him avoiding her gaze at school the next day as he hurried out of the cafeteria, head hung, she decided to follow him.

Her quick footsteps echoed in the hallway as she stepped into it, trailing a few steps behind Evan. Her eyes boring a hole in the back of his head, she could see his shoulders tense.

That was how they had been. They could feel each other’s presence, so comfortable with each other that it felt natural to feel the other one come up behind them.

As Evan slowly turned around to face her, Zoe felt pressure building in her eyes, her throat constricting. The part of her brain that had allowed for her to detach herself from any situation had been out of use for too long and refused to let her stop caring, to force the tears down.

It was harder to look into his eyes than she thought. There was his side and her side, snapping together in that second, sharing more than either would like to admit to in that moment.

Because even though she felt a pang of regret and anger and hurt in her gut as their eyes met, she also knew for certain in that moment that she loved him.

And she knew that he loved her, too.

But she could also tell, in his gaze, that there was something broken in there. Broken by his own mistakes, almost not wanting to see her because it felt so right but now it was wrong-

She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to do this, whatever this was.

Zoe Murphy never cried when she was angry. Her mask was a perfectly sculpted picture of anger, her face sharp, her words sharper. That was because she didn’t care-couldn’t care.

Now, standing in the stock still hallway, too-bright fluorescent lights shining down on the previously known Zoe and Evan, Zoe Murphy realized that when it came to Evan Hansen, she knew that she would always care, care too much, even, no matter how little she wanted to.

That kind of caring required honesty, and even though he didn’t give it to her, Zoe gave Evan the truth.

And so she told him everything.

She told him how Connor had really been, how he was once the boy he had conjured up in his stories and writings but ultimately was abusive and destructive to her and her family. She told him how she began to cope with her life, forcing herself to numb the truth and be removed entirely. She told him how she never wanted to let down her walls, but he forced them down, made her begin to care and feel and be alive.

She told him how she had cried when he brought Connor back to her, because for the first time in so long, she felt like her life wasn’t falling to pieces and something old was new again. She told him how she had felt broken inside, and how he had fixed that, but now she didn’t know whether or not she was broken again.

Even though Zoe Murphy never cried when she was angry, tears welled in her eyes and spilled over and her voice cracked and shook and wavered all over the place as her breathing quickened and palms shook. But she continued anyway, even when her words became choked with sobs and she could barely see, but they never broke eye contact and she could tell he was crying, too, and it hurt her that she made him cry but this was his fault, not hers.

As she finished, sobs and tears slowing, they looked at each other, two broken people, once two halves of a whole, now two sides of the same coin. And even though it hurt, when they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew that it would be okay, someday.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But if the other could still stand after the torrent of tears, so could they.

The bell rang, jolting them out of their trance. Tears still drying on her face, Zoe Murphy turned and walked away from Evan Hansen, because even though she knew someday it would be okay, it sure didn’t feel that way then, when her heart twisted every time she could feel his eyes on her.

Someday it would be okay.

She only hoped that wasn’t another one of his lies.

***

Disassociation had come naturally to Zoe Murphy. It didn’t anymore.

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my-emotional-self · 6 years ago

Text

The Accident Chapter 10

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing, Angst

Trigger Warning: Panic Attack, Mentions of death

Summary: After yet another fight with your boyfriend Chris, you go for a drive and get into a terrible accident. Upon waking up in the hospital, you find both Sebastian and Chris sitting there. The only problem? You have no recent memories and you think you are still dating Sebastian.

A/N: As always, a big thank you to @missecharlotte

You went to bed that night with a smile on your face, Dodger curled up next to you as your hand stroked his fur. The night was everything you could have imagined, and much more. You had regained a memory between you and Chris, and you did everything you could to remake the memory happen again; and you weren’t disappointed. Chris was an amazing kisser, by far the best you had ever had, including Sebastian. Sebastian was wonderful and all, his mouth did amazing things, but it was as if Chris’ lips were destined for you.

The next morning you woke up rather early and after doing your morning business, you headed out into the kitchen. You passed by the guest room Chris was staying in and noticed it was still closed; that, and there was no breakfast smell lingering from the kitchen. For once, you had woken up before him.

You fed Dodger some breakfast and let him outside to go potty before starting breakfast of your own. Looking through the fridge, you settled on something that you had not had in a very long time. Usually breakfast consisted of pancakes and bacon, or waffles and bacon, but not today.

Grabbing everything you needed out of the fridge and cupboards, you began to get to work on breakfast. You even found an apron that you just had to wear; it was red, white and blue and said ‘Yes, I’m dating Captain America!’

You started on the muffins first, as you knew it would take the longest the make. Once those we nearly done you checked the clock and noticed Chris would more than likely be getting up soon so you started on the omelettes.

The music was playing softly in the background, along with the whir of the range hood fan as you began to cut up the ham and peppers, your hips swaying to the music as you sang quietly to the music. Hands wrapped around your torso and you froze, dropping your knife as it clattered on the marble countertop.

The arms around you immediately let go of you as you heard Chris curse from behind you. “Fuck, damnit Erica I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to startle you.” You let out the breath you were holding and you slowly turned around to face Chris. “It’s just habit. For a minute, walking in here and seeing you cooking breakfast, I just forgot everything. It seemed so normal.”

You cupped his cheek, your hands scratching his beard as his eyes closed. “Chris, it’s fine alright? I was just caught off guard for a minute. I don’t mind, really.” You gave him a smile, reaching on your tip-toes to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, it smells delicious. What are you making?”

“I have blueberry muffins in the oven and I’m making some ham and pepper omelettes. No offence, I was just getting tired of pancakes and bacon every morning,” you confessed with a giggle. “Also,” you began to say as you turned to face Chris who was now sitting in your usual spot on the stool, “where did I get this apron because it is amazing!”

His gaze glanced downwards and took in your apron, a chuckle coming from his lips. “Sebastian’s girlfriend Margarita. In fact, she had them hand-made and she has her own that says ‘Yes, I’m dating the Winter Soldier!’ Here, I think I even have a picture of the two of you wearing them.” Chris pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his gallery, his face lighting up at the picture. You leaned across the counter as he handed you his phone. Sure enough, there was you and Margarita in your matching aprons; yours was red, white and blue while hers was black, red and gray. Margarita was absolutely beautiful. She had light brown hair at the top of her head, which then faded to a dark blonde; her hair naturally full with curls. The two of you had giant smiles on your faces while showing off your aprons.

“She’s really pretty,” you declared while handing back the phone to Chris. Deep in your gut, it hurt to see who Sebastian was dating because you were still in the time frame of you dating him. But you had to move on and realize you were with Chris.

He must have sensed your sad smile and the grief in your eyes. “So are you Erica,” he spoke with such certainty. You gave Chris a smile before turning to face the stove and continue cooking.

Once finished, you placed a plate down for Chris and he dug into the food at once; a moan escaping his lips as he began to chew. “Your cooking is to die for. I’ve missed it.”

Your face began to redden from his comment as you dug into the warm blueberry muffin. “So, what did you have planned for today?”

“Well, I was thinking we could sit down and go over some photos that I have. It was always something you loved to do, make sure we had lots of photographs around and there is a box filled with some. Hopefully a few will jog your memory.”

Following breakfast, you went to take a quick shower before meeting Chris in the living room. He had a box placed on his lap as you sat down next to him on the couch. “Ready?”

You took a deep breath, inhaling through your mouth and exhaling through your nose. Placing your hand on his wrist, you gave him a nod. “I’m ready.”

He opened the box, pulling out a stack of photos altogether. This was your and Chris’ box as it only contained photos of the two of you. Slowly he began to go through each one, letting you take your time to examine them.

All the pictures were of either you, Chris, or you and Chris together. And you were happy, you both were. The two of you were always smiling, or kissing, nearly bringing tears to your eyes but you held them off.

“Stop!” you practically shouted as Chris pulled out the next photo, your eyes lingering on the necklace you were wearing in the picture. He handed you the picture as you stared at it. The necklace you were wearing once belonged to your mother, and she never took it off. A sudden wave of guilt and sadness washed through your body as you sniffled back your tears.

Chris placed a hand on your back in a comforting way. “What is it?”

Pointing out the necklace, you replied, “that was my mothers. She never took that necklace off.” You turned to face him, your eyes glossy with tears. “What happened to her Chris?”

Chris looked from at the photograph, then back to you. He knew he should tell you the truth to what happened to your mom, but he knew exactly the struggles you dealt with when it happened. He was scared to his wits about having you go through those struggles again. “She was in an accident Erica.”

Your fingernails began to click on the coffee table and your leg began to bounce. “Yes, you said that before. But what EXACTLY happened to her? You promised me you would tell me Chris. I’m asking you, please. She was the only family I had left. I just-I just want to know what happened to her.”

Chris let out a sigh and he hung his head low. He was battling internally with himself on whether to tell you entirely what happened. Lifting his head back up to face you, he grabbed your hands with his and squeezed them. “There was an intruder in her home. He….he had a gun and she put up a fight. He ended up shooting her in the stomach and….and she didn’t make it.” His words hit you so hard you couldn’t even move, couldn’t breathe. “I’m so sorry Erica.”

Your chin started to quiver, tears falling from your eyes. “She was alone?” Chris nodded at your question. “She must have been so scared….so scared! I…I could have been there with her Chris!”

“No baby! Don’t ever think that. If you were there when it happened then there is a good chance you wouldn’t be here right now, with me. I…fuck I couldn’t imagine my life without you Erica.” Chris was looking longingly into your eyes but your vision was blurry with tears.

“She-she’s gone. She’s gone Chris! The only family I had left,” you cried out, leaning into his waiting arms. He held you tightly as your body began to shake. The realization of your mom gone finally sunk and you lost it. You had no family left as you never knew your father. He was just a sperm donor to you and your mom was an only child, your grandparents dying when you were younger.

“I know baby, I know,” he pulled you to his body as you continued to sob. Your body shook with tears and you soon felt it hard to breathe; your chest restricting as if someone was squeezing it. You began to gasp for air and your eyes grew wide. Chris realized what was happening to you. He repositioned you on the couch so that you were laying between his legs and your back was to his chest. He placed a hand over your heart, holding you dear to him.

“Breathe baby, just breathe. Breathe with me, in, and out. Yes, just like that. Good girl.” You took deep breaths as you felt his heart beating along your back and tried to match his breathing. “Deep breath in…there you go, and deep breath out.” Chris was coaching you and with his soothing voice, you soon began to breathe a lot easier.

“What-what was that?” you asked Chris in confusion, never having experienced something like that before.

“It was a panic attack. You started getting them towards the end of your relationship with Sebastian. I suffer from anxiety attacks so I kinda knew how to help you out in those situations if I was around.”

The two of you stayed in the position for you didn’t know how long. You had a breakthrough last night, and while you thought today had ruined that with your panic attack, you knew deep down it didn’t. Chris knew exactly how to help you through it, which only made things that much more confusing for you. Could it possibly be only the death of your mother that caused your panic attacks? Deep down, you had a feeling there was more to the story, more to your memories, but you didn’t want to handle them right now. Right now you just wanted to be in Chris’ arms where you felt safe and secure.

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#chris evans #the accident #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans drabble #chris evans one-shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans x oc #chris evans x ofc #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #eventual smut #marvel fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction

123 notes · View notes

wannawrite · 6 years ago

Text

Hundredth - LYJ 2

who?: Nine Percent’s Lin Yanjun genre: 🌺 type: bullet point TW: toxic relationship blog navigator. part two / two

part one You love yanjun, I love yanjun. pls read part one first!! sorry for the lateness, school just started up again and it’s been so hectic :((( - admin l

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners everything that is written here is purely fictional DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

two things

one: you felt absolutely shitfaced

two: you dreamed about meeting a handsome dude and giving him your jewelry

losing money

fantastic

but hey, he was cute though

head sore, back aching and the urge to throw up all the alcohol consumed last night, you didn’t want to pry your memory for details

your dating life was now non-existent

that hurt

it was very real

and very tragic

the pain of realisation must’ve triggered your imagination to create your

ideal soulmate

tall

handsome

playful

sexy

all in one package

he was no Ken doll

not a trace of any of Yang’s characteristics

a scowl edged itself onto your face at the thought of your ex-fiancé

who was in Paris chasing the woman of his dreams, mind you

if only Evan was a real human and not some figment of your imagination

you would have married him in an instant

unfortunately, Evan was a mere hologram of your expectations

thus, you were doomed to stay single

your back hit the soft bed with a thump

sigh

I just want to go back to sleep

so Evan and I can keep meeting in our dreams

想要牵着你的手到我们的梦中梦游

wait!

this is still Yang’s apartment,,,that I used to call ‘home’

I lied to myself

he’ll be back from his ‘business trip’ tonight

I have to pack up and get the hell out of here!

f*ck, I wasted time daydreaming about something so useless

ouch! my head

what the hell! why can’t anything go my way for once

you groped around to find balance, vision distorted, dizziness settling into your brain

i’m never drinking again!

what happened last night?

.....did I?

so, I got drunk, drew up my little own Ken doll in my head

lost almost 250 million worth of gems that aren’t mine

your face began to flush red

lol at least Yang won’t have them either

he designed that entire collection with her in his head

that aside, I’m never getting drunk again

carelessly, your hand swept over the bedside table

effectively knocking over most of the items

indistinct clinks and clatters filled the empty space

then, a soft ping of a tiny item hitting the carpeted ground caught your attention

squinting against the sunlight, your eyes searched for the object

even though it was mildly damaging to your retinas, the sunlight caused the object to sparkle

your hands curved around the smooth metal

fingers traced the distinctive carvings along the band

Cartier

upon closer inspection, you noticed that there was a strip of paper wrapped around it

cautiously, you unwrapped it

‘I’m sorry’ was scrawled on the paper

it made your breath hitch in your throat

who was apologising?

what for?

‘Don’t worry, things will start looking up from here. - E’

E v a n

your hands began to shake uncontrollably

either in excitement or anxiety - you weren’t sure

evan was real

he had returned your Cartier bracelet

at least he had kept your damned engagement ring

throw it out or whatever, you didn’t care about that chunk of space rock anymore

hopefully, Evan had burned in it an incinerator

hopefully, he would run back to slip a new one on your finger

NO!

lmao you just swore off relationships yesterday

and now you’re desperate for a guy to sweep you off your feet

but this wasn’t just any guy

he was your guy

your dream guy

drunk or not, you knew he was a 12/10 personality wise

or maybe,,,you just haven’t met anyone befitting of your standards

tbh idk if that’s grammatically correct

were you just desperate because of a broken heart?

god no

Yang didn’t deserve your prized heart

Evan though…

Was he a real, breathing man with blood flowing through his veins and sunlight gracing his skin?

Could he be the person you had been looking for?

Would you ever have a future together?

There were just too many questions

and too few answers

but what were the chances of you ever meeting Evan again?

what were the odds of him coming back into your life again?

outside of your dreamland

There was absolutely no guarantee that this note was genuine too

Someone could just be pulling a gross prank

Maybe there was a thief and he had just pretended to be Evan

had you been robbed last night?

NO I’M THINKING TOO FAR

Evan is off limits since he’s currently still a fictional dude

besides, it would be creepy to just keep dreaming about this guy

if he even exists

This itself is creepy...only because I can’t remember anything

a shudder shook your shoulders as you clambered off the bed

your mind had to be made

right now

two things:

No, I won’t go searching for him

Yes, I’ll quit thinking about him

or anyone for that matter

It’s about time I enjoy my life while single and youthful

Time to pack up my things

Leave this apartment

the Cartier bracelet slid onto your wrist perfectly

this,,,you would keep closely

you marched out of the building with confidence in your stride

even your bags were tugged with strength and determination

no more Yang

no more Evan

no more relationships

...for some time at least

just me, I’m content being single

however, if you had been honest with yourself

your heart would not begin to tug your brain in the opposite direction

‘I lied when I said this necklace was worth 17 million,’ Cheng Xiao revealed.

‘It’s that value multiplied by nine.

A hundred and fifty-three million dollar necklace

and that amount would double after the deal was sealed

Yanjun’s guilty conscience began to awake

he,,,stole close to 250 million in an unfair squabble

The nine leaders surrounding the table were clearly shocked by the discovery

Cheng Xiao chuckled

She knew those boys wouldn’t bother to wholly invest themselves in the jewelry

The necklace was not theirs to keep anyway

It was a mere pawn in this game

There was 0.00% chance that YingYang Gems would continue their showcase

the necklace was supposed to debut in that collection

looks like they had to wait until Hundredths returned the gems

more likely than not, YingYang Gems would be forced to pull a plug on the showcase

which would give Yuehua Jewellers the window to be the only top-tier jewelry debuting a new collection this month

Hundredths held a huge amount of shares in Yuehua Jewellers

believe me, I did research on this

Cheng Xiao was not going to lose them all

‘Once their stock market rises, so will our shares,’ Cheng Xiao explained, gesturing to a chart. ‘Jieqiong will decide when to buy and sell.’

Yanjun didn’t understand the specifics mentioned but he got the rough idea

sort of

he left issues like these to Xukun, Linong

Cheng Xiao and Xukun continued to explain and discuss the situation

Yanjun tuned out to most of it

His job was done

he felt that he no longer wanted to play a part in this particular operation

He just felt so damn stupid for allowing his feelings to get caught up in his work

Yanjun felt like leaving the meeting room but he dug his heels into the carpet, forcing himself to stay

His work was constantly emotionally and physically draining, yes

but never like this

Cheng Xiao glanced at the clock on the wall

‘Okay. That’s all for today. We’ll discuss further when there’s an update from YingYang or Yuehua. Good work!’

Yanjun smiled and clapped along with everyone

He was genuinely proud and happy for his mentor and fellow comrades

It was just his own emotions that got in the way

‘I want to praise Yanjun for doing such an excellent job at acquiring the goods. An applause for him please! Bro did well,’ Xukun suddenly announced.

He had good intentions - Yanjun could tell by the look in his eyes

Xukun meant well

his friends praised him with good wishes and slaps on the back

The more attention and recognition he received, the nauseous feeling only grew

Yanjun finally caught a breath when he slipped out of the meeting room and headed towards the gymnasium

at this hour, the gym would usually have one or two athletes exercising

it was an awkward hour between late lunch and early dinner time

true enough, Ziyi and Yuntian were the only two in the huge complex

Yuntian as in Zhu Yuntian, 1/2 on the slept on Zhu twins

‘Hey bro,’ Ziyi greeted warmly as Yanjun stepped into the gym.

Yuntian smiled from his place on a weight machine

‘It’s great you’re keeping to your workout schedule,’ Ziyi beamed. ‘That ensures you’re always healthy for more missions like these.’

‘And hopefully a daily dose of endorphins keep that scowl off your face,’ Yuntian joked

that managed to crack a small smile from Yanjun

Yanjun began to stretch as a warm up

‘Jun, you did well. You’re happy with yourself, aren’t you?’

Yanjun’s mouth went dry, he pressed his lips together

‘Of course, all of us worked hard for this mission,’ he forced the words out through gritted teeth

brainwashing himself to focus on the benefits was harder than imagined

Ziyi furrowed his thick brows

‘I-it’s j-just...you seem to be a bit glum and undermining yourself. I want you to know how great you performed.’

Ziyi

‘It must’ve been so difficult getting in there,’

Please

‘Especially when Zhangjing and I went offline and you were left by yourself,’

Stop

‘I realised how much you’ve improved and I must commend you on that,’

Talking

‘Yanjun, you’re so amazing-‘

‘ZIYI!’ Yanjun finally exploded

He didn’t mean to

truly

Ziyi was going what he thought would uplift Yanjun, it’s what any good friend would do

shocked by his outburst, Ziyi stumbled back, losing his composure

even Yuntian stopped his exercise to find out what had happened

Yanjun bit down hard on his lips

he had to calm down before he spoke

otherwise, a dear friend could be hurt by his words

His words had already taken away many things

He wasn’t about to lose his dear friend

‘Ziyi, I’m sorry I reacted that way,’ Yanjun began by apologising

he gripped onto Ziyi’s shoulders but not in a domineering manner

he just had to ensure his best friend wouldn’t slip away

Yanjun sighed. ‘I-I’ve just been worn out from this mission and I’m trying to think of other things.’

Ziyi nodded. ‘Of course, of course.’

ways to cheer Ziyi up

clogs in his brain reeled to find an appropriate solution

‘You know, let’s take a break and get a coffee from the nearby cafe.’

manwhore: I know you stole my new collection. Return it to me, or you’ll pay

manwhore: don’t think for a minute that I won’t press charges

hiss hiss hoe: there’s evidence you left MY apartment with a big ass suitcase

hiss hiss hoe: you can’t possibly have that many things just own up that you took the collection and I’ll drop the charges

hiss hiss snake: listen, call my lawyer by 10pm today and all is even

just reading your messed up texts gets my blood boiling

dumbass

you: I don’t take shit that doesn’t mean anything to me

you: you’ve got the wrong person

you: the apartment was already wrecked when I got there and whoever was there had left ages ago

*snake is calling*

*call declined*

*snake is calling*

*call declined*

*snake is calling*

‘What!’ you snapped, causing customers seated around you to divert their attention.

‘What the hell do you want? I don’t want anything to do with you!’

‘You know what I want,’ your ex-fiancé’s voice crackled. ‘I want you to return my collection by today or I’m going ahead with the police.’

‘I didn’t take your shit,’ you growled in frustration, exasperated. ‘I’m not playing childish games here, Yang.’

yes, I wore the jewelry but when I woke up only my Cartier bracelet was left

I genuinely don’t know what happened!

but it isn’t my problem

Yang sighed from the other end of the line, most likely in annoyance. ‘Fine, be like that. I’m coming over to your townhouse with my lawyer to negotiate. Don’t drag our parents into this, you’ve already delayed the launch. That’s enough from you.’

the line went dead on the other side before you had a chance to protest

your phone thudded onto the table as you buried your head in your hands

in the queue, Yanjun, Yuntian, and Ziyi were well aware of your situation

their keen ears had heard it all

‘What are we going to do?’ Yanjun hissed. ‘We can’t let Yang do this.’

‘Honestly, I don’t think there’s much we can do at this point.’ Yuntian looked uncertain, shaking his head.

‘But if we allow Yang to press charges and call the police, we’re at a bigger risk of being found out. How did he get back from Paris so fast?’

oh no

Ziyi shot him a strange look. ‘Paris? I know he was due back tonight but wasn’t he in the city the whole time?’

cover blown

‘Jun ge, a-are you hiding something from us?’ Yuntian asked

Ziyi sipped his mocha latte,

‘Okay,’ Yanjun said. ‘Let me explain.’

it was hard to whisper in hushed tones through their masks AND with the person in question sitting less than 5 tables away

also, Ziyi and Yuntian weren’t the most helpful by ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at Yanjun’s every word

once he was done with his storytelling, the table went silent as they were all deep in thought

Ziyi huffed, feeling clueless as to what to do

‘We have to help them for the sake of protecting ourselves,’ he voiced after awhile

Yuntian and Yanjun nodded attentively

‘Okay,’ Ziyi muttered after a while. ‘I have a plan.’

when Ziyi said he had a plan...I didn’t think we were going to be waiting outside their townhouse

stalking is more of an accurate choice of words

this is so stupid,,,and creepy

but what else could we really do

Zhangjing had already gotten their information

Ziyi had said that Yang’s force would definitely pressure you into accepting his offer

and that was when the Hundredths came in

they were going to pretend to be Yuehua representatives and lawyers whatever role they could find

if you know YingYang Gems, you certainly know how Yuehua Jewellers is pitted against them

the townhouse seemed compact and cozy yet modern and elegant

clearly, it had not been lived in for a very long time

in fact, the only occupants were the monthly housemaids

Yanjun spotted your shoes strewn across the porch, a sign of your hasty arrival and departure to get coffee

from a mile away, Yuntian announced your arrival

unfortunately, a black Mercedes Benz was quickly making its way down the lane too

too fast if Yanjun may add

Yang on one end

you on the other

this wasn’t going to be pretty

Yanjun braced himself for a hissy fight

Probably most of the pettiness from YingYang

as expected, Yang’s car reached first

his car ignored the trio, nearly crashing into them

a polished, suited driver stepped out of the car to punch a code into the keypad

red began to shade his cheeks when the gate let out an alarming buzz, signaling the password was wrong

furious, Yang stuck his head out of the window and barked, ‘What! They changed the password! Not like that would stop me! Try again!’

then, he noticed Yuntian, Ziyi, and Yanjun

his lips curled into a nasty sneer

‘Who are you? Get away from my house!’ He snarled defensively

Yanjun had to bite his lips to stop the laughter

‘If it is indeed your house,’ Ziyi began smoothly, mockingly almost. ‘Wouldn’t you know the password?’

Yang’s temper only blew up, his face reddened in anger. ‘Of course, I do! My fiancé must’ve changed the password, thieves these days....I’ll contact them right now! Off my property! My lawyer is sitting in my car.’

so many ‘my’s, Yanjujn rolled his eyes

Yang ordered his driver to try again and even suggested breaking in

‘I don’t think you break into houses you call your own,’ Yanjun snapped, unable to take any more of his insolence.

Especially since he had heard your side of the story

Yang’s current behaviour only confirmed his suspicions

his shirt was made out of 100% dickhead material

‘What’s going on?’

three strangers, one shiny black all-too-familiar car with two all-too-familiar passengers were parked right in front of your house

‘Darling!’ Yang’s fake sugary tone made you want to throw hot coffee in his face

‘I was trying to stop these...these hooligans! from breaking into our house.’

the blood rushing through your veins began to boil like a tempest

‘The only hooligan here is you. We’re done, get away from my property,’ you fired back. ‘Leave my representatives alone!’

the company of three strangers seemed much better than his at that moment

guys, idw to be that person, but please do be careful around people you don’t know

suddenly, the window rolled down to reveal a woman sitting in the back seat

Yanjun’s breath hitched in his throat when he spotted the giant rock on her ring finger

‘Sweetheart,’ she shrieked. ‘Are we done here yet? I want to head inside, sort out this lawyer thing and go shopping for our wedding already.’

the sobs you choked back were so visible to Yanjun. You were trying your best to keep your emotions a bay

it wasn’t only your anger but his

‘Wow, Mr Yang I will say you have guts to act this way,’ he growled. ‘Our client has just parted ways with you after two years of engagement and more of betrothal without the slightest bit of a wedding in mind.’

‘And here you are, already planning a dream wedding to someone you’ve met a week ago after cruelly ditching your ex. Then, you have the audacity to accuse them, force them to meet your lawyer at their house, claiming the house was yours.’

Yang opened his mouth to reply but Yanjun didn’t even spare him a second to shut it

‘And you bring your new fiancé along to humiliate my client. If it truly is a legal matter between the two of you like you claim it to be, her presence isn’t required.’

your jaw dropped open and shut many times and you couldn’t stop thinking about how this mysterious man looked so,,, familiar

Recognisable

but you had to save your pride right now. ‘You’ve met my representatives, we’re here for a meeting. Go before I call the police.’

‘This house is in my name.’

Thankfully, the car sped off without another word from the passengers

your jelly legs sank on the pavement, breathes coming out in short bursts

‘T-thanks the help,’ you whispered. ‘D-do I know you from somewhere?’

Yanjun shook his head, eyes sparkling

he offered to help you up

‘Unfortunately not but, we’re here to help you.’

He had a smooth way of talking, you noted. Bad sign, bad sign. All the charming ones will are heartbreaking bad boys

but isn’t that a trait of your Ken doll Evan?

the raven-haired, man bun sporting man cleared his throat and stepped forward

‘We’re representatives from Yuehua Jewellers and there are some issues we would like to discuss regarding YingYang Gems.’

if they were Yuehua, they had to take your side

three strangers in your house isn’t a problem when you have about ten bodyguards inside

the gate let out a friendly beep and slid open without trouble after you had keyed in the password

‘If it’s about boycotting Yang,’ you said, gesturing for them to enter. ‘Then, be my guest.’

The ‘meeting’ was successful on both terms

Yanjun couldn’t be more ecstatic that you were finally getting away from Yang - at least for a while

but he had to keep his true identity a secret at all times, no matter what

However, the ‘subtle, casual’ looks that you gave him didn’t go unnoticed at all

it was SO obvious that your brain was reeling to provide answers to your burning questions

my last three brain cells during an exam:

as much as Yanjun wanted to answer them himself, he restrained himself from doing so

Now, you only knew him as Jun

That was how it was supposed to stay

but Yanjun wasn’t sure if his heart would allow it

…

did,,, did he really admit that?

he can’t

emotions and work don’t match, it would only complicate things

yet, he would surely crumble if you pressed any further

in order to protect himself, to protect his brothers and to protect you, Yanjun stayed far far away from you

he sent relatively harmless people out to meet and update you

you only held Ziyi’s contact

Yanjun was doing all this to keep you safe

from him

but it was the smallest of details that gave away his attraction

like how he pestered Cheng Xiao for an update on the transaction every hour

or how he snuck glances over Ziyi’s shoulder when he was texting you

he also snuck out with zheng ruibin to keep tabs on Yang, to ensure he was no longer harassing you

dread was gnawing at him from all sides

he felt as if eyes were glaring bullet holes into him even in the safety of his room

Yanjun lay on his bed, ears tuned into the goodnight wishes of his corridor mates

he had to sort out his life right now

first of all, he had gotten all heart-eyed when he met you and then charmed away your jewelry

he felt guilty for worsening your emotional breakdown AND for letting his own emotions get in the way of his work

now, he was trying to solve your problem

but Yanjun wasn’t going to waltz into your life, sweep you off your feet and propose to you

because he knew he didn’t deserve to

either way, he can’t satisfy both sides of a Gemini

Yanjun was not mistaking pity for attraction, he was schooled enough to know that

he wasn’t going to f*ck up your life and feelings more than he already had

Yanjun was placed in a tight spot

knowing him would only put you in more danger

so no matter what happened, for the sake of your sanity and safety

He had to withstand the pressure crushing his shoulders, go against the wind and grow against the sun

only diamonds come out of the rough

A Hundredth had no excuse not to

two days later, Yang’s collection was returned safely and anonymously

the launch continued

but by then, Yuehua had garnered the majority of the media’s attention and public eye

beneficial

today was essentially your last chance to get rid of the thought that bugged your mind

Jun

Evan

why did both of them seem so,,, alike?

to clear up things, you decided that there was indeed a guy named Evan in your life

and the idea of it was absolutely mortifying

curiosity killed the cat,,,but the cat does have nine lives

if you did indeed dump your problems and jewelry through your mini cryfest on some poor dude, you had the right to know

from the start, YH representative Jun had caught your eye

he was calculating, cheeky, playful and intelligent all together

he also reminded you of someone

personality wise

you remembered Evan had a light silvery tint to his hair, a pair of dimples, deep voice and large eyes

your ideal ‘Ken doll’

Jun was definitely your type

nevermind, Evan didn’t have to exist if you had Jun

had

you wouldn’t ever be able to breathe the same air as him

Jun was slowly slipping away from you

in fact, the last time you heard of his existence was yesterday night

when Zacharie was texting you and mentioned a component that Jun would manage

take the Z from Ziyi and IE from Boogie and you get Zacharie

trying to make up fake names on the spot

there were so many burning questions at the tip of your tongue

Jun resembled Evan so closely

,,,were you confusing reality and fiction? are you going mad?

annoyed, you let out a huff and flopped onto your bed

men could be so infuriating and irritating!

you: hi Zacharie, thank you for all your help these few days. Please thank the team at Yuehua on my behalf. To properly bid you farewell, I ordered some small gifts for the office. It would be great if you could send someone to pick them up! Thanks!

mhm

Zacharie and Jun won’t even know what hit them

truthfully, you didn’t have any farewell gifts because you never wanted to part

you: assistant lu please prepare appropriate tokens of appreciation for colleagues by 2pm today

why why why why why!

the same mantra kept chanting over and over in Yanjun’s head

he had been so desperately trying to avoid you at all costs yet here he was, at your front gate

Ziyi had specifically said this errand was for him to run

currently, the only running Yanjun wanted to do was to run away from his responsibilities

to his surprise, it was you who opened the door and not your bodyguard

‘Hi! Come in for a minute,’ you greeted enthusiastically

Yanjun wondered how you could be so bubbly

well, you had the right to be after getting Yang off your back

‘Everything’s in here!’ you beamed, handing him paper bags with stamped with a brand name you couldn’t even pronounce

Yanjun smiled earnestly, taking the bags from you

your fingers brushed against his for a moment and sparks ignited through your body

‘Jun, would you something to drink? Coffee perhaps?’

Wow, every word you said sounded so formal and robotic

this was very unlike you

were you nervous? around a guy?

Never!

then again, the only guys you had encountered were the middle school boyfriend, college cheater, and Yang

so,,,that was a possibility

Yanjun politely declined much to your dismay

He mentioned that Zacharie needed him back at the office for a board meeting soon

sighing, you nodded understandingly

‘Sure, you should get going soon. Thanks for all the help these few days.’

you ran a hand through your hair as you spoke

Yanjun caught sight of the Cartier bracelet securely clasped on your wrist

the one piece he decided not to steal

‘Nice Cartier,’ he complimented. ‘Very classy and iconic.’

damn Yanjun, you’re the smoothest guy on this planet and all you come up with is ‘nice Cartier’?

impressive

however, you face practically lit up at his compliment

‘Thank you! It was the first piece I bought with my own money,’ you revealed with pride.

Yanjun paused at the driveway to slip his shoes back on

which gave you time to work up the courage

‘Hey, Jun.’

he hummed in reply

you tried to make your tone sound as nonchalant as possible. ‘Uh, I figured you would be in touch with many of these... jewelry specialists...’

oh no

Yanjun tried not to tense visibly. Instead, he offered a tight-lipped smile

‘Um, I know this is far-fetched but would you know of anyone named Evan?’

E v a n

Evan is standing right in front of you

In your doorway

Evan is lying

Right in your face

Evan doesn’t deserve you

Because he messed up

Yanjun shook his head and pushed back the whirlwind of emotions that was taking shape

‘Nope, I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone of that name,’ he lied perfectly. ‘Why?’

Oh, the audacity

you leaned against the doorframe, mildly disappointed

‘Nothing. H-he just seemed really knowledgeable about gems. My cousin and I met him at...at a place near your office so I just-‘ you kept yourself from rambling.

the silver-haired man chuckled softly at your outburst

‘Y-you just resembled him a bit. Tall, tan, dyed hair, large eyes. Haha, thought he was a colleague or something,’ you fibbed, making up a story on the spot

sadness flooded your lungs and made it hard to breathe, fires of vex scorched your skin and made it blister

Jun obviously had no interest and to compare him with Evan! oh wow

who even does this

the moment would’ve turned awkward if Jun didn’t announce that Zacharie had begun texting him and bid you farewell with sincerity

there was no need to rush

he could explain everything

but what good would it do him

what good would it do you?

‘Jun!’ you called out as he was about to step outside, dashing after him without slippers

‘I-i-is it okay i-if we stay in contact? I-I-. Can we b-be friends? We’re around the same age? It’ll be nice to know someone nearby.’

sentences began with stammers and ended with stumbles

alarm bells rang in his head

Flustered, Jun fought to find an appropriate response

Words got caught in his throat, they froze, then evaporated into thin air

‘Yes,’ he finally coughed out. ‘We can stay in contact but...I think it would be much better for us to stay as colleagues.’

hurt crumbled your features no matter how hard you forced them to stay upright

‘Oh, o-of course.’

of course, you had been too immature, too caught up in the moment

too fresh from a breakup and looking in the wrong places for a rebound

Yanjun’s smile seemed sympathetic but he too was struggling to keep his feelings at bay

‘Goodbye. I’m sure there will be projects for us to work on again. Rest early.’

In the safety of Hundredth HQ, Yanjun let crystal tears slip out from his pearl-like orbs

usually gleaming with fun, suavity, perfection

the mafia had made him focused, strong, bold and quick

and it was your diamonds that didn’t just scratch the surface of the onyx plating

but pierced right through it and pricked his soft golden heart

honestly, i’m not super satisfied with this :(((

it took me THREE weeks to write but it was interrupted by camp and school so my train of thought was lost

i’M SO SORRY

hopefully,,,school gets easier so I can focus on what I like to do

love all of you lots💓💓💓

#admin l #nine percent #nine percent scenarios #idol producer #idol producer scenarios #lin yanjun #cai xukun #chen linong #fan cheng cheng #justin huang #huang minghao #zhu zhengting #wang ziyi #wang linkai #xiao gui #you zhangjing

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not-rome · 7 years ago

Text

Progressive Care

Summary: Connor winds up in New Point Campus Behavioral Health Unit after trying to kill himself. He makes a lot of discoveries, from things he hates to things he's been missing. He's missed laughing, smiling, getting better, and Evan. So after a shitty day, Evan comes for visitation, and Connor couldn't be happier. Word Count: 6k words Trigger Warnings: mental hospital, panic attacks, self harm, self hatred, depression, and mentions of suicide attempts Note: I’ve based this off my experiences, and also; this may be the only thing I post in a while due to my hectic schedule Read of ao3

Connor knew that no one thinks that behavioral centers are super fun, but he wasn’t expecting this shit. The people here were fucking insane. He knew he was ‘crazy’, but they took it to another level.

Schedules of their days were on the wall, and patients wouldn’t stop fucking looking at it. Sure, he wanted to see it too, but he didn’t want to be annoying like everyone else. Group sessions were his nightmare since everyone had to open up at some point in time. He wasn’t ready for his turn.

The boy he shared a room with was annoying. Taylor was a lanky white kid with short blonde hair, and the complete opposite of Connor. The blonde never shut the hell up, and flirted with every girl in the ward. Then you had the brunette, spoke respectively, never made anyone uncomfortable, and wasn’t annoying.

“Connor, where were you again? I woke up and you weren’t in the room,” Taylor said and Connor had to take a moment to control his anger. His roommate snored so loud that Connor ended up going to the isolation room every night.

“Well, maybe if you could stop snoring, I’d be there in the morning,” Connor said before walking over to some of the people he considered his friends here.

Honestly, all of it fucking sucked. He just kept his cool since Evan came and visited him every visitation day. The two had spoken to each other in junior English a couple times, but their friendship didn’t truly start until Connor found the blonde on the ground in the park.

Connor knew he didn’t just fall out of a tree, but he didn’t say anything about it. He signed the cast, and gave the blonde his number. Evan would awkwardly ask him to hang out, and the brunette started having a schedule for weed so he’d be sober when he was with the other boy.

This lead to the first day of school, and his suicide attempt. He had somehow convinced Evan to sell him his depression medication, and he took them. Of course Evan found him though, he kind of always found him in a way.

So he landed here, New Point Campus Behavioral Health Unit. The only downside to the whole ordeal was that only his mother and Evan came to visit him. He didn’t care that Larry didn’t want to see him, because he didn’t want to see that man anyways.

All he wanted was for Zoe to come and see him once. He was trying to get better and, finally on some medication, could see his mistakes.

Evan made the comment that she’s just not ready, and the brunette knew that the two blondes were dating now. Of course they would be dating, he was finally out of the picture. Zoe loved the fact that he was gone, because now she could take the one thing Connor truly loved; Evan.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Michael asked and Connor yawned. Everyone knew he wasn’t sleeping due to being in the isolation room. “Shit, me too.”

“Maybe you should request to change roommates?” Brandon asked, Connor shrugged before plopping down on the light blue couch. He noticed that Jennifer had turned on the Latino channel, she did this every morning since she missed her family so much.

“I’ve heard he’s leaving soon,” Amanda said as she watched the TV. Only three people in the ward were fluent in Spanish, and they typically loved the Spanish channel.

“What are they saying, Manda?” Allison asked and everyone jumped at the sound of the 35 year old woman’s voice.

“Well, they’re talking about a traffic jam and apparently there was a break in somewhere,” Amanda explained, trying to listen closely to the TV. She would say she didn’t look pretty, but Connor would disagree since she had an innocence about her.

Her chestnut skin was accompanied with black braided hair since she didn’t want her natural hair to suffer from the shitty hygiene products here. Connor would say her eyes were a caramel color filled with light, but she would disagree.

Amanda was his favorite person here, she was someone that you truly wondered why she would be here until she opened up. It wasn’t that she was energetic and full of life, but more that she was picked first for activities and smiled more than she frowned.

He knew that he was the opposite. Smiling wasn’t something he did often, but it was starting to happen more and more. Especially when Michael and Amanda started arguing over stupid things. They were both way too rational, but in different ways.

“Guys, breakfast is in five minutes. I still need to get some of your blood pressures,” Monica, a tech, informed everyone. Connor sat down in the chair meant for blood pressure, earning a smile from a auburn haired woman. “How are you today?”

“I’m okay, I guess. I’m just so exhausted,” Connor said and Monica was the first person that he was open to in this place. “I’m just happy that Evan is coming tomorrow. I miss him a lot,” Connor said and Monica smiled at him with a bright smile.

“He sure is a cutie, or that’s what I’ve seen when I’ve been there,” she said and Connor nodded while sighing.

“The only problem is he has a thing for Zoe.”

“Your sister?” Connor nodded and Monica gave him a sad smile. “He’ll come around. We all know how amazing you are, and if he’s coming to visit; he knows it too.

“Thanks, Monica, that means a lot,” Connor said before getting up. If Monica was a therapist, then he would be at her office every single week on time. She was so caring, sweet, and actually understood how people felt.

“Connor, hurry up, we don’t want to wait on your ass,” Michael said and Amanda hit him.

“Shut up, Michael, we’ll wait as long as we need to.”

“Sorry, Miss Perfect, I’m fucking hungry,” Michael snapped, and everyone knew to back away from the small boy. His temper wasn’t easy to control, and when people took a step back; so did he.

“Let’s get going,” Connor said before hurrying into the hall to get the tension out of everyone’s systems. A month ago, he would’ve snapped along with Michael, but now he was learning to cope.

Maybe this place wasn’t so shitty after all.

“Connor, what do you plan on doing today?” Opal asked him, he was sitting at the recs art table uncomfortably. He hated coming to activities, but only because everyone got so noisy.

“I think I may paint today,” he suggested, as if it would actually get the old therapist off his back. She smiled at him before getting him the kids’ water color pallets and some paper.

He wasn’t sure what to paint, so he just started off with green. Connor wasn’t really focusing on the painting, but focused on favorite memories.

Evan was sitting on Connor’s grey comforter, smiling over at him. He brought him a bonsai tree for his room, and the blonde boy had placed it on the cluttered desk. No words were exchanged, just comfortable silence allowing them to breathe.

It was Evan’s first ever Murphy family dinner, and it ended with the blonde having an anxiety attack in the bathroom. All the poor kid wanted to do was bring the tree and go to McDonalds.

“Why are you smiling so big, Connor?” Amanda asked, she was leaning over looking at the painting. She assumed it was making him happy.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said before noticing that he had painted the same bonsai tree on a wooden desk. Of course it would be a painting about Evan, it always was.

Connor was sitting on his bed, writing a letter on the small side table that was bolted to the ground. Taylor left, so the brunette was finally sleeping. His head was clear, but was still foggy. It varied day to day, and today he was trying to fight off the foggy thoughts of death and self-harm.

He was getting better, and decided to try to fight it off by writing Evan a letter. The doctor told him that writing his feelings down could help him process emotions, so Connor started writing. He had written three letters at this point, all talking about different things.

Some spoke about the drama going on around the ward, Evan loved the drama way too much. He ate up the entire Taylor situation to a point that worried Connor. Then bringing up Michael to him was something else too. Evan saw Michael’s boyfriend waiting on the boy every time he came to visit, and it was a sad sight.

Jeremy, Connor told Evan the name, would always cry as he sat down and pull out a letter. Evan could see it was made out to the boy reading it, and then he’d wipe his tears right as Michael walked in. Both of them would look bright and happy just seeing each other. So, Evan was expecting an entire backstory, and Connor was keeping track of that for him.

Then some spoke about how dark Connor’s life truly was before coming here. How everything felt meaningless, and how people felt like phases. How Evan used to feel like a phase to him until the two officially became friends. Connor was used to losing people, and he assumed the blonde would be no different.

The final letter was a confession letter to Evan. The blonde was so dense, he never once caught on to Connor’s futile attempts in flirting. So, the last attempt of keeping off these foggy thoughts was to finally tell Evan how he felt.

Feelings didn’t make sense to Connor. Even when he was used to them, he just didn’t understand the purpose. Why are there so many emotions that have their own feelings? Why can’t people just feel neutral all the time? Being neutral wasn’t too exciting since all it held was anger, but Connor was used to outbursts. He just couldn’t understand why no one else understood where he was coming from for so long.

All the letters would be given to Evan, some earlier than others. The confession letter would be the first, so then Connor knew if the blonde would actually come back after that. It had almost been a month, and the doctors said he may be there for another month or two. So, if Evan wasn’t going to stay after this whole confession, then Connor knew he was a phase like he believed in the beginning.

Dear Evan Hansen,

I’m worried that you’re going to hate me. It terrifies the hell out of me, because you’re the first person to truly care about me. You’re probably freaking out, but don’t. I’m getting better, and my mind is finally clearing for the first time since freshman year.

All my friends have been phases for as long as I could remember, and I’ve written a letter diving deeper into this. It’s just that the moment I was fully there for someone to see, they would dwindle away until there was someone new. I thought you’d be like that, sometimes I still worry about it.

Maybe it’s the fact that people started being nice to me because they all thought I’d be a school shooter. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re such a kind person wanting to befriend the depressed stoner kid. I was always scared to open up to you, and here we are now; me finally opening up to you.

I don’t remember the last time I could actually laugh freely without feeling judged. The people here may be crazy, but they’ve been encouraging me to do things I never thought I could. I never knew that I could have a real love for someone while in my state of mind, but after constant reassurance; I know I can.

You’re the person that I love. Everyone in my unit knows I love you from how I act around you. I love you, Evan Hansen. This seems really out of character for my dark and fulfilled with angst appearance, but I’m finally in a better state of mind to realize it. I finally know that you’re not a phase, and you’re not going to dwindle away like everyone else.

You’re always there for me, and I don’t know how you do it. I can barely be there for myself, due to my terrible mood swings, and I have to be there at all times regardless. You just amaze me in so many ways, but I don’t know if I can truly describe them through a letter. The only sad thing is that I don’t know if I can say these things aloud.

Evan, your brightness blinds me, and it’s the only light in my life. You could tell me about saplings for six hours, and I’d still be in awe of you. I’d listen to every single word, and then I’d ask questions just so you can continue to be passionate. I love passion, and you offer so much of it.

Do you know that you’re the first person I’ve properly hugged in years? I’ve missed it so much. Your arms wrapped around my waist, head under my chin, and warmth radiating between us is a dream come true. No one wanted to touch me, but you did. You’d cuddle into my chest whenever I was having a panic attack.

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you. I’m just a mess of a person who only got help because someone else reached out for me. I’m just a shitty person, my own sister won’t even come see me due to it. Just love her right, okay? I want her happy if I can’t be.

I know you love Zoe, hell I think we all know. Part of me wants to be selfish and tell you to choose me, but I know you won’t. You’ve loved her for so long that I don’t know if you can’t love her anymore. I guess it’s okay, I mean I’m used to not getting things.

God, I miss you and I saw you three days ago. I miss you so much, because when you’re here you like to make assumptions about everyone. My favorite is the one about Allison, and how her fiancé is cheating on her, but she refuses to see it.

I just miss you so much, and maybe it’s the whole love thing? I’m still getting used to feeling emotions again, so please don’t hold anything against me if I mess up at first.

I wish you loved me like I love you. I may wish for a lot of things, but they mean nothing to me when I’m around you. I just wish for you, and I know it’s going to freak you out; so I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Connor Murphy.

It was Tuesday, aka visitation day, and everyone was going fucking crazy in the progressive care unit. Allison was bitching over her fiancé again, while Tracy kept talking about her friend coming, and Michael wouldn’t shut up about his boyfriend.

All Connor wanted was sleep, but of course everyone was awake at eight in the fucking morning. Don’t forget to eat your shitty eggs and bacon. The thought of food made Connor’s stomach upset. His nerves were already on edge due to Evan coming today, but the disgusting food made it worse. Was today going to be a good day? No one knew.

So the brunette rolled out of bed, got his blood pressure taken, then headed down to the cafeteria. Black coffee and grapes were going to be his breakfast, and he was excited about the coffee portion of the meal. The bitter coffee had been the only thing truly keeping him sane in this place.

He sat next to Michael, who was chatting happily with everyone. Sometimes the brunette hated how social the kid next to him was, but it was beneficial so then he didn’t have to speak. It’s not that Connor hates everyone on the ward, it’s just he’s heard some pretty wild stories.

“Is there going to be a group after this?” Veronica asked and Michael groaned. That’s how everyone felt during group, irritated.

“Yep, you guys have group right after hygiene time,” Sasha, a tech, said as she walked around seeing how much everyone had eaten.

“Sasha, you know how you’re my favorite girl ever, right?” Connor said with a flirty attitude, only to receive a laugh from the 18 year old girl.

“Connor, we all know you’re gay and that you can’t get out of group,” she stated before walking over to the other table of people from their unit.

“Dude, we all know you like that short blonde kid that comes and visits you,” Michael said as he shoved some biscuits in his mouth. Connor was disgusted at the sight of the Latino boy eating messily, but he tried to not think about it.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m pretty sure he’s dating my sister. Then again, I don’t know since I haven’t been home in a month,” Connor said with a shrug, and everyone at the table looked at him sadly.

“This is almost as sad as when they looked up my hooch to see if I was carrying a knife in there,” Allison said and everyone scooted away from her. She was here so she didn’t have to be in prison, and boy was she weird.

“Anyways, so you think he’s dating your sister?” Amanda, a short ginger girl, asked while tilting her head. Connor nodded, and Michael wrapped an arm around the taller boy’s shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“Connor, tonight is the night that we make blondie fall for you,” Michael said, using huge hand gestures and making the brunette feel anxious.

“He’s fallen once, out of a tree,” the brunette said and Trinity started laughing.

“God, that’s really fucking sad. You’re good at getting twinks I guess,” she said and Connor’s face grew into a deep red color.

“My boyfriend is a twink too!” Michael exclaimed, and this is why Connor hated the people in his ward. They were too loud, and too personal for his own liking.

“Let’s have a sharing group today,” Flynn, a young therapist, said and almost everyone groaned. All the therapists knew everyone hated group since it was hard to even open up to yourself. “Come on guys, it’s not that bad.”

“I’d rather have a panic attack,” Connor said and everyone laughed while agreeing. Self-deprecating jokes were popular here, but maybe that’s because everyone on this ward tried to kill themselves.

“You seem rather vocal today, Con-man,” Flynn said, he had to use the stupid nickname. The therapist was well known for coming up with the dumbest nicknames, and no one could say no since the 25 year old had too much charm.

“Uh, not really,” Connor said, he felt uncomfortable with everyone looking at him. ��Group was terrible because everyone stares and scans you like you’ve killed children or something.

“Come on, no one has heard from you about how you’re feeling,” Flynn pushed, and Connor hated this. Why couldn’t Monica be here to tell this guy to stop? She’d save him.

“I’m just getting feelings again after not having them for years. You know severe depression, weed, anxiety, and self-harm. All kind of make you numb after a while,” Connor said shyly, he hated attention like this. He hated talking about things like this.

“Want to talk about it?”

“I mean, not really. Typically don’t.”

“Connor, you know that this is a place you can really speak, right?” Amanda asked, everyone looked over at her. She was giving the brunette a soft gaze, something he needed.

“It’s just my parents don’t care about the things I have to say, because I’m just the fuck up. I’ve conditioned myself to not care, and to just be quiet,” Connor said before sobbing and putting his face in his hands.

Michael rubbed the brunette’s back, and people were telling him that he could tell them everything he needed to. It was so much for Connor, because he’s only ever experienced this with Evan. He calmed down a little bit, wiping his eyes before looking at Flynn again.

“My sister hates me, and I get why. I was abusive because she was loved more, and I hated it. I hate being nothing, and every day was another day where I screwed up. She can’t even come see me, and I can’t blame her.” His hands found their way to his neck, strangling himself before biting the knuckles. Blood was dripping everywhere, and he couldn’t breathe. Where could he go to breathe?

Connor got up, sobbing uncontrollably, and ran into the ward bathroom. The only way anyone got him out was by taking him to his room so he could lay down. Whenever he said he’d rather have a panic attack, he didn’t really mean it.

Everyone finally realized why Connor never shared anything about himself, he was too unstable to even admit to himself.

Connor slept until lunch, and he sleepily got up and walked into the common room. Amanda was the first to approach him, not scared of what happened earlier. She gave him a hug, and he was slow to return it.

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” she apologized, and he shook his head. It wasn’t her fault he was like this, not in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I’m the only one who pushed myself,” he said before patting her head and walking over to Michael. The other boy was trying to sweet talk Ashley into giving him his anxiety pills earlier than the time on the bottle.

“I’m literally about to cry, and we don’t want to see that,” Michael said in a suave voice, making everyone roll their eyes.

“After dinner,” Ashley said, typing away at her computer, not even bothering to look up.

“What if I can’t last?”

“Then we’ll take you from dinner and bring you here to calm you down,” she said and Michael huffed like a four year old. He stomped over to Connor, who looked dead tired, and crossed his arms.

“You know, all I want are my freaking meds, and getting them 20 minutes early will not kill me,” Michael whined as he threw his arms in the air with a big grand gesture. Connor laughed at the 17 year old, almost crying from how hard he was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s almost like you came over here to complain to me like I’m your dad. Who would’ve known Michael complains to his dad?” Connor asked, calming down and Michael had tears in his eyes.

“I mean I would if I had one. The only dad I really have is Jeremy’s and I really do like talking to him,” Michael said, opening up to Connor. The brunette brought the smaller boy into a hug.

“Dude, I will totally be your dad.”

“Connor, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Michael asked, but he melted into the hug. No one ever hugged Michael besides Jeremy and Christine.

“This is not fair, Connor never hugs me!” Amanda exclaimed and suddenly there was a huge group hug of most of the patients. The warmth made Connor smile brightly.

“Why do we have to have another group? Why can’t we just have nap time?” Julie whined, and everyone else was behind her on that idea. Nap time would be so beneficial to them since no one ever slept at night due to the cold temperature.

“You get time to sleep at night,” Ashley said from the nurses’ station, causing everyone to roll their eyes. The nurses knew that none of them ever slept at night.

“Tell Lolly to make it not so fucking cold at night, then we’ll talk,” Connor snapped and everyone cheered at the comment. Everyone hated the 50 year old woman who put the temperature down to 40 on her night shifts.

“Connor, don’t be rude,” Monica warned and the brunette shrugged before sitting in a chair by the window. It was time to be melodramatic and look out the window as if he’s never seen the outside world before.

He only did it for the effect, because they actually took them outside for an hour every day. Everyone requested a song, and would either sit at a table or lay in the grass. Connor typically did the latter option so then he could feel the sun on his face. It made him think of Evan.

“So, we’re going to be talking about support groups today!” Donna exclaimed excitedly as she started handing out papers for everyone. She placed Connor’s paper on the table in front of him, and gave him a look of he had to participate today.

Michael walked over and sat next to the brunette, carrying two tiny pens. They didn’t really constitute as pens, since it was only the ink plastic with bendy cover. The writing tool was about two inches long, and Connor hated using it.

“Let’s talk about what support systems are. Anyone have an idea?” Donna asked and Amanda was the first to raise her hand.

“We’re a support system,” Amanda answered with a tone of pride of being the first to answer. Donna shook her head, causing her falling out ginger hair to slink farther off her head.

“Not outside of here you aren’t. You’re not supposed to contact each other for three months after you are discharged. It’s better to think of everyone here as a fleeting thought,” Donna explained and Connor slammed his hands on the table.

“You know, we’re in here because we felt alone. We felt like no one would know if we fucking died, but you’re going to tell us that we can’t continue to be friends? Support systems at home don’t immediately change, so if we don’t have each other, then we’ll try to kill ourselves again. Does no one fucking get that?” Connor snapped and Donna looked taken aback.

“It’s for your safety, we don’t want anyone being triggered into another–, “Connor cut her off by standing up and his chair flying behind him and hitting the wall.

“For out safety? Donna, do you not realize that I literally had no one before I tried to kill myself? I haven’t felt this comfortable around anyone in years, and they are my friends. They’re not going to fade away, I refuse it to happen,” Connor yelled before crumbling to the ground crying.

Today had been too rough on him, but at least Evan would be coming later. Maybe Evan could give him the biggest hug possible, and make Connor feel at home. He missed his home (Evan) so much, and he wanted to be back there.

The group was called off after he crumbled to the ground. Donna went to her office, embarrassed by the fact that he called her out over a rule. Connor went grabbed his hygiene bucket, a towel, and headed to his room for a shower. He needed to shower before Evan came, so then the blonde couldn’t smell the anxiety of the brunette.

Should Connor also change? There was a t-shirt Evan brought him, he hadn’t looked at it yet, but he imagined it was fine. So, he quickly went to shower and then went out into the room to grab some clothes. His black jeans, briefs, and a jacket were the first things he picked up.

The shirt Evan had brought him was black with green tree patterns all over it. The brunette chuckled before grabbing it and going back into the bathroom.

He really loved Evan Hansen.

“Connor, you have a visitor!” Sasha exclaimed, everyone was always excited for the brunette whenever he had a visitor.

Maybe it was due to him being so closed off, but after visitations he seemed happier. Or maybe it had to deal with the amount of breakdowns he has.

Evan was waiting for him at a table, and perked up the moment he saw Connor. He smiled really big when he realized the shirt the brunette was wearing was one that Evan bought him. Connor knew how excited it would make the blonde boy, and that’s why he did it.

Connor felt the letter burning his pocket, but wrapped his arms around the blonde. Evan gripped the black cardigan the brunette was wearing. They both sighed into each other, taking a moment to let anxiety flow out.

“Hey,” Evan said, his face lit up with a smile. The two were sitting in the back of the cafeteria, and it gave the blonde full ability to judge others’ situations.

“Hey, I’ve really missed you,” Connor said and Evan nodded. They both sucked with words when it came to speaking. Speaking wasn’t anyone’s strong suit anymore, unless you’re Michael Mell.

“Okay, tell me some of the drama,” Evan said softly, and the brunette chuckled with a nod.

“There’s a new guy, his name is Carter, and he’s been really nice to me? Like says my eyes are pretty like my hair, but does he not realize my hair is disgusting?” Connor asked, he looked genuinely confused until Evan huffed a little.

“He’s flirting with you, just what the, I mean you are beautiful, but like, fuck,’ Evan muttered and Connor stared at him with curiosity.

“What did you say?” Evan’s eyes went from the table to Connor in a spilt second. He looked flustered; red cheeks and trembling hands. “I seriously didn’t hear you.”

“I just asked if he was cute or not,” Evan lied and Connor shrugged before looking around. He saw Carter talking to a little girl and an older woman.

“He’s right there,” Connor said as he discreetly pointed over to the auburn guy, and Evan almost choked on his spit.

Carter was hot. He had the soccer boy haircut, nice bone structure, and auburn hair. The blonde was guessing the other guy was around 6” tall and was built.

“You don’t know if he’s cute or not?” Evan asked, flabbergasted. Connor wondered if this was the perfect time to pull out the letter. Maybe then Evan would know that Connor didn’t look at other boys.

He pulled it out of his pocket, and handed it to Evan. The blonde looked confused before opening the folded paper. His blue eyes started scanning the letter, and Connor felt like he needed to get up and run. Why had he thought this was going to be a good idea?

Evan’s face remained neutral the entire time (except for the occasional blush), before looking up at Connor in the end. He folded the letter, placed it on the table, and put his chin on his hands. The look on the blonde’s face was one of needing more explanation than just that.

“So you’ve read the letter?” Connor asked awkwardly, he wasn’t good a confrontation at all. Why had he thought this was going to be a good idea?

“You, um, you? You love me?” Evan stuttered out, but it wasn’t in a nervous tone. The blonde was still processing it all, and Connor knew that.

“Yeah, you know just like bro things, haha,” Connor said awkwardly only to earn a laugh from Evan. The blonde was laughing at him? Shit, abort mission, fucking shit.

“I’m not dating Zoe. I don’t love her,” Evan stated and Connor’s breath was stuck in his throat. He wasn’t used to feeling all nervous like this.

Honestly, Connor wasn’t used to feeling anything. This was all new to him, and he wasn’t sure if he enjoyed it or not. The last time he felt anything was freshman year. Short haired Connor smiled more, but still struggled with depression.

“Well, I mean who said you were?” Connor asked, chuckling breathily, his face was turning pink from getting flustered. Why the hell was this happening to him?

Suddenly, Evan went from looking all stoic and carefree, to the anxious boy he truly is. His face turned pink, and he started to shake. His eyes were focused to the table, fingers tapping the wood, and he started chewing on his lip.

“God, Connor, just like, like how, oh my god,” Evan stumbled out, planting his face into his hands as his face turned completely red. Connor shouldn’t have been admiring him in this moment, but he couldn’t help that the blonde was too cute for his own good.

“I’ve never been this clear minded before,” the brunette whispered and Evan smiled into his hands. They both looked like flustered messes. “Have I weirded you out?”

Evan started to laugh, something that Connor hadn’t heard before. This started as giggles, moved to cackles, and then suddenly he was crying from laughter. The brunette had no clue what any of this meant, so he sat there quietly and waited.

“Have you weirded me out? C-Connor, just, how, like, oh my god. Why am I so nervous?” Evan asked, wiping his eyes and stuttering his words.

“Because you hate me. You think I’m a fucking freak,” Connor said, tears prickling his eyes. He hated emotions, he just wanted to go back to not feeling anything at all. He wanted to go back to the first day of school.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Evan started, grabbing Connor’s hands. His voice was full of worry, and the brunette looked at the table. “I’m nervous because I love you too.”

Connor’s eyes flew open and he looked up at the blonde. The other boy looked super flustered, still holding onto his hands. Evan was staring out the window, looking at the rain falling steadily.

“You love me?” Connor asked and Evan nodded. His eyes flickered over the brunette, only to retreat as fast as they looked over. “So, no Zoe?”

“Why are you obsessed with her? I just told you I love you,” Evan pouted and Connor just about melted at the sight of the pouting boy. Evan’s blue eyes were on the brunette, and his little pout reached his eyes.

“You’ve been in love with her since freshman year, I just assumed that you still loved her.” Evan pressed Connor��s hands against his face, pressing a kiss on them. That seemed to be enough for Connor to know that Evan really did love him.

“I promise you, I love you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else,” Evan said before leaning across the table to kiss Connor on the cheek.

“So, we’re dating now?” Connor asked and Evan nodded, he looked like he was about to cry. Connor didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign.

“I’m just so happy, oh my god. You’re getting better, and you love me. We’re really progressing forward, together,” Evan said with a soft smile and Connor nodded.

Even though today had been completely shit, he still got to see Evan. Evan told him that he loves him, and then said they could date. It made up for everything else.

Although Connor wasn’t getting help for Evan, but himself, he had another reason to fight more and more. Evan had been a reason, but now Connor felt like he was a hundred percent there for him. It made him stronger in a sense. It was nice to know that there was someone rooting you on from the sidelines, and maybe that’s what Donna had been saying.

Honestly, Connor just hated Donna, so he’d rather choke than listen to her bitch about making friends with your family. She didn’t know the first thing about abusive families, and the brunette wasn’t going to let her try to tell him how to be their best friends.So, Connor started ranting about his day, and Evan listened intently to everything. Sometimes his thumb would caress the back of Connor’s hand, while other times Evan would kiss the brunette’s knuckles.

They both felt safe here in this behavioral center cafeteria to be affectionate, which sounded pretty weird on its own.

#dear evan hansen #dear even hansen the musical #connor murphy #connor x evan #tree bros #tree bros fic #evan hansen #zoe murphy #Be More Chill #michael mell #jeremy heere #heathers #veronica sawyer #recovery #self harm mention #suicide attempt mention

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heartbattled-a · 6 years ago

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compiled list of headcanons for one Mr Sam Evans ! some have already been posted but have been tweaked in this post for clarification / better wording . ( template not mine ! )

SEXUALITY & AFFECTION .

Sam is 100% pansexual. There’s absolutely no doubt about it in my mind.

Those feelings were closeted for a very long time, pushed very deep down. Not because his family were homophobic (which they weren’t/aren’t) but because it was unacceptable in his old school. Sam went to an all boys school and there were very few gay people there and they were bullied insistently and physically / mentally / emotionally abused.

If Sam was experiencing feelings of attraction or arousal during his time at that school, he did a damn good job of hiding it. Pretending that it didn’t exist.

When Sam moves to McKinley, he begins to realise that being gay is okay. That being anything other than straight is okay. Kurt was his first example of that and then Blaine. They were definitely the two most important role models for the first few years at McKinley.

Even though Sam is incredibly accepting of other people’s sexualities & genders, it took a much longer time for Sam to come to terms with his own sexuality. Hence why he was always so skittish whenever asked about his sexuality, especially from Blaine.

Eventually --- canonically, around the end of Glee S4, Sam finally comes to terms with his sexuality. After a lot of confiding in his close friends (Blaine included) and a fair amount of time spent googling, Sam finally had a term for what he felt. Pansexual. Sam isn’t really a big fan of labels, never has been --- but it felt really good to have one in that moment.

He is absolutely shyer with boys than he is with girls. Boys make him twice as nervous as girls do because he has far less experience in dating boys or anything to do with boys in general.

That being said, Sam will do his absolute best to learn. To be better at it. Though he’s not afraid of being seen in public holding a boys’ hand. He does know what the world is like surrounding the LGBTQIA+ and he knows that people suck but he isn’t ashamed of who he is anymore. He isn’t ashamed to completely know who he is. So he’ll absolutely hold his partners hand in public, will kiss them in public too.

RELATIONSHIPS .

Any kind of romantic relationship makes Sam very, very, wary. He’s incredibly cautious & nervous about them and it takes a fair amount for Sam to even consider entering one after everything he’s been through with the McKinley girls.

Sam has a fair amount of abandonment issues, along with trust issues and some other baggage. To begin with, Sam is incredibly clingy and worried. He panics and overthinks, which leads to Sam convincing himself that he’s doing something wrong --- that he isn’t enough, that he deserves to be cheated on.

He would absolutely rather pine over someone that he likes as opposed to telling them straight to their face. Mostly because he’s terrified that the person will make fun of him for it or shun him because of the fact that his entire life story has been spread throughout McKinley high. (homeless, stripper, etc.)

It takes a long time for Sam to work his way out of the bad mental space regarding relationships because of how many times he’s been cheated on before. He will get out of it, it just takes a while for that to happen.

That being said, though, when Sam does enter a relationship --- he enters it completely. 110%. When Sam loves someone, he loves them hard and with everything he has. Sam Evans has a very, very, big heart and it shows when he’s in a relationship with someone. Hell, it shows in his friendships.

Even though Sam doesn’t have a lot of money, he will still do his absolute best to spoil his partner. Not having much money means that he needs to get creative with date ideas and anniversary/Christmas/birthday presents. He likes to think he does a pretty good job.

Sam is an incredibly loyal boyfriend. He is incredibly caring and very sweet, very considerate of his partners feelings. He is also very, very, sensitive. Proof of point: when he was kissed in canon by that photographer while he was dating Mercedes, he cried immediately afterwards because he felt so guilty even though he didn’t kiss her back and had no intention of kissing her back, either. He owned up to it immediately, too.

APPEARANCE ( trigger warning for eating disorder mentions ! )

Sam’s hands are very rough & calloused. Both from playing the guitar non stop as well as lifting weights every single day. Some people think that his hands are soft from first glance but they definitely are not. He has a lot of callouses along his palms.

Sam is tall. About six foot one. Around 140lbs or 10 stone. He’s very close to being underweight for his height. The reason being that Sam has an eating disorder. See more about that HERE, if you’d like.

At some point during Sam’s twenties, he realises that he has a problem (with the help of friends depending on the verse) and decides to seek help for it. It’s a lifelong problem that isn’t going to go away with a snap of his fingers, as much as he wishes it will but going to therapy does help along with a few other methods. But the problem will always be there and he will always have a very, very, complicated relationship with his food.

While he might look skinny / unhealthy, he is muscular. He works out pretty regularly (sometimes to the point of fatigue/dangerous levels) and it shows. He has minimal body fat because seeing any kind of body fat/rolls/any kind of sign that he’s fat or overweight (even if he isn’t) gives him really bad body dysmorphia.

Sam’s nail beds are pretty much ruined by the time he hits twenty one. The skin around his thumbs are pretty gross looking, too. He bites/picks at his nails and bites/picks at the skin by his fingernails, a tic & sign of his anxiety.

WORK, HOME & SCHOOL LIFE .

Sam has had quite a few jobs in his lifetime. Granted, they were all pretty short term & paid pretty abysmally but they were jobs nonetheless.

At one point while Sam was in the Glee Club, he also joined the swimming team for a while, as well as the football team (and had the quarterback position for a while). Not to mention the fact that he regularly volunteers at homeless shelters for no other reason than the fact that he can (although he somewhat knows what it’s like to lose the roof over your head). He also worked at Dairy Queen, was a night time pizza delivery boy and was also an exotic dancer.

He might look lazy, he might look spacey and distracted but nobody in the world can convince me that Sam Evans doesn’t work fucking hard. He was doing all of this to try and maintain his status at high school (re: popular kid) as well as bring in enough money to help out with the rent for the motel room, groceries each week & anything that his siblings might need (school books, shoes, shirts, etc).

Speaking of the motel room ... the motel room that Sam and his family stayed in wasn’t all that big. There was one double bed in the room, with a very small TV and a dresser. There was no indication as to whether or not there was a kitchen (I assume there would be, however small) or a bathroom (again, I assume there was - it was probably just very small). That motel room was bursting at the seems, given that it was intended to sleep two people and instead had FIVE in there. The double bed would have been for mom and dad and there was a small fold up bed to the side, which I assume would have been for the kids to sleep on in the head & tail position. Sam wouldn’t have let his parents or his siblings sleep on the floor, which left only him to sleep on it. All the while working, attending Glee club as well as other after school clubs & acting like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Sam absolutely does the same thing that Fiona (Gallagher - Shameless) does in regards to saving up money. He works as many side jobs as he can, preferably ones that are cash in hand & hire under 18s, then puts the funds in a pot and hides it away, makes sure to write down how much he earned that night and keep a tally so that he knows what they can afford for the week / month, in regards to bills and other household needs. He doesn’t buy things for himself, he can’t afford luxuries even on a good payment - everything he earns goes towards his siblings care, his parents and the house/motel. He always runs himself down and stretches himself as thin as possible to make ends meet and to make sure that his family have food on the table because he’s the only one of the three kids that can legally work.

PERSONALITY .

Sam is insanely loyal. To the point where, if he trusted you, he would follow you into battle (or an equally dangerous situation with little to no care about himself). He is an insanely loyal friend, will always protect them and be by their side & defend them when they’re not there, to bullies and the likes.

Unconventionally smart. Doesn’t really understand much about the real world & its details but can name all of the hobbits in Lord of the Rings as well as nearly every character / spell from Harry Potter. Likes to use fictional situations and apply them to the real world and nine times out of ten, it works.

Cares far too much. Has an incredibly big heart. Always working on himself, always working to become a better person with better ideals. Very open minded and accepting of everyone in the world. Is full of tons of love, even after all that he’s been through. Hasn’t let the world corrupt him too much just yet.

Funny. Likes to make jokes, likes to do dumb impressions that he knows are cheesy or a little bit stupid so long as it makes his friends smile because that’s all he wants to do, make his friends laugh, smile & forget their problems for a minute or two.

Not much of a talker but a very good listener. Will listen to your problems and try his best to offer up some kind of solution or advice. Very empathetic, will try and put himself in his friends’ shoes to understand their problems if possible.

Compassionate. Full of excitement. Loves to be around his friends. It gives him energy. Isn’t so much a fan of strangers, though.

HOBBIES .

Sam is really really good at Macaroni Art (as seen in Guilty Pleasures).

He is also pretty damn good at playing the guitar. Nine times out of ten, he only has to hear a song play once or twice before he can play it almost perfectly on the guitar.

Not to mention the fact that Sam is a big ass nerd. He loves playing Video Games. No matter the console. Most of the time, he’d play on his friends consoles when he was invited over for dinner or for a sleepover. His family couldn’t afford a console of their own for a long time.

Pokémon is one of his all time favourite games to play, along with Mario Kart, Super Mario Brothers & The Sims. He likes a lot of games but those are definitely his top contenders.

He likes playing board games, too. Like snakes & ladders, monopoly & checkers.

#( HC ) sam #long post /#hoo boy

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