#the runny nose is basically gone but my eyes keep getting watery

[maraschinotopped]

hey guys guess what (is in the family guy death pose)

insert that one image of the youtube thumbnail + title of 'the sorcerer has harmed me once more'. augh <- allergy kicked in but the allergy medicine she usually takes didnt do anythign so now shes feeling the brunt of it

[linkysmommy]

The Time That Came Between

PART I

Part II link here

Fandom: It Lives in the Woods

Pairing: Noah Marshall x fem MC

Words: 3,057

Summary: What happened to Noah after Jazmyn Park sacrificed herself and he fled Westchester?

Warnings: Some minor swearing, topics of drug use and addiction

Author’s note: This is basically my imagination of what happened to Noah after he left Westchester and before he realized that MC was still somewhat cognizant as the shadow monster. I definitely have some creative liberties and my own thoughts on the dark path Noah went on after everything went down. It shouldn’t be too long, but I’m splitting it into parts. It’ll probably be between 5-6 parts when all is finished.

The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming stench of sour, rotting garbage.

Then came the God-awful pain.

It felt like there was a bonfire burning in Noah’s back. The muscles in his body screamed and throbbed, and his body shook violently. He weakly opened his eyes, and could barely see because they were so watery. It was like this every morning when he woke up. But somehow, that didn’t make it any better.

He managed to push himself into a sitting position as he tried to put together where the hell he was. He rubbed the film away from his eyes and glanced around himself. He was sitting in an apartment parking lot, his back pushed up against a huge dumpster bin. A trail of gooey water dripped from the trash can and trickled down the cement pavement. The morning sun shone in colorful rays through the filth, and he could hear the morning hum of cars and commuters as the responsible population began their days. A street cat hissed and rustled through the trash, and one of the windows in the building across from him burst open as yells from the people inside drifted out into the morning.

Noah sighed and leaned his head against the metal trash bin. He didn’t even care that his shirt was soaked with trash water, or that the side of his face was still covered with gravel from the ground. All he could focus on was the pain and discomfort. His burning back, his aching muscles, his runny nose, the wave of nausea that crashed over him.

He should get up, go to his apartment, take a shower, get dressed. He should get to work on time and save some money so he’d be able to go far away and leave forever. But no. Instead, he woke up in front of a dumpster and the first thing he did was reach for his phone. He hated everything about himself as he turned on the screen and dialed the person he simultaneously hated most and needed most in this entire world.

But he was too weak. So he called Reynold anyway.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Terror seized through him and his hand began to shake uncontrollably. What if Reynold didn’t pick up? What if—

Before Noah could think much, a very unhappy voice on the other line answered.

“The hell you want? It’s 7:00 in the morning.”

“I need some,” Noah said. “Where can I meet you?”

The voice on the other end scoffed. “Are you serious? You already blew through what I sold you two days ago?”

“It’s been… a rough couple of days.”

Reynold fell silent, which pissed Noah off. He was the one funding this guy, yet Reynold acted like he was the nuisance. Finally, Reynold let out a long sigh. “I’m busy today Malcolm. I don’t have time to—”

“I’ll pay you double. Hell, I’ll pay you triple. Just tell me where to meet you and when.”

Reynold grumbled something under his breath, but then he agreed. Soon, Noah had the place and information typed into his old, cracked phone. Now all he had to do was survive six more hours until they met up. Even that long seemed like more torture than he could stand.

Noah didn’t know how long he sat there, feeling like complete and utter shit. It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been hours. All he knew was that when two middle school girls crossed in front of him to head to their bus stop, chattering excitedly about some TV show, the expression on their faces when they saw him was enough to make him want to kill himself.

There was fear in their faces. Fear that the dirty, grimy man sitting by the dumpster would hurt them. Noah lowered his gaze and they hurried past. And he wished, for what must have been the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours, that his life had never been so goddamn awful that he felt the only way he could survive was through losing himself to heroin. 

He wished that it had been him who took Redfield’s place, and not Jaz.

Never Jaz.

***

The bell jingled as Noah stepped into the gas station where he worked. A handful of customers browsed the shelves, and crouched in one of the aisles was his supervisor, Russ, probably doing inventory.

The door clattered shut behind Noah and he tried to sneak past Russ. But, like some freaking bloodhound, he looked up the moment Noah took a step. Russ’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed with anger. He stood, the item scanner hanging loosely from one hand.

“You’re late again, Johnson.” Russ glanced pointedly at the clock, then back at Noah. “Twenty-two minutes late, to be exact.”

“I’m aware of that,.” Noah said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I ran into some… stuff.”

Russ did roll his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. Not when it happens every day.”

“Yeah, well. I’m here now so let me get to work.” Noah shouldered past Russ to the employees only area. It wasn’t much, but there was a wall with hooks where he could hang his jacket, and shelves and shelves full of supplies. 

Noah hung his jacket and took a deep, calming breath. He hated this job. He hated how Russ thought he was worse than dirt, and he hated how much he resented that. After what he’d done, he didn’t deserve to be treated well by anyone. He deserved every ounce of hatred every single person had to spare.

He brushed his fingers over the scarred skin on the inside of his elbow. It was rough, and still tingled with his most recent dose. He was a coward for trying to find something to ease the pain, to make him forget. It was only fair that the drug no longer made him feel anything other than normal. Where it once had left him feeling powerful and nearly happy, now all it did was make him need it when he wasn’t using, and when he was using he just felt normal.

And normal… wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

The one good thing about Jaz sacrificing herself for him was that at least she didn’t have to live to see him like this. This pathetic shell of a man she thought was worth enough that she decided to die for him.

Noah squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hand into his forehead. Forget about this. Don’t think. Just get out and do your job, go home, shoot up, go to sleep, repeat. Keep going. Just survive. 

He took one last calming breath, took a moment to steel himself… and then stepped back into the front.

As he approached the counter to take his position for the day., the girl standing behind it glared at him.

“Finally. You made me stay late, you jerk. I’ve been here since 12 AM!”

“Yeah… sorry Diane,” Noah said sheepishly, fumbling awkwardly with the edge of his beanie. “I’m here now though, so you can leave.”

Diane peered up at him from behind the counter and her scowl melted away into a grin. “I’m just teasing, Malcolm! No need to be so serious. Of course I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” Noah forced a laugh and sidled behind the counter. 

Ever since the cops found Jaz’s broken body last September and Noah had become the prime suspect, he’d been on the run, never staying anywhere for too long. He spent time in Montana, Idaho, Utah, and Nevada. He never finished high school, and instead took to getting himself fake IDs and socials just to find work wherever he could get it. But now, he was back in Oregon, a mere three hours away from where it all started: Westchester.

Noah had only been working at this convenience store for two months, but no one in any of his other jobs paid attention to him like Diane did. She knew nothing real about him—she thought his name was Malcolm Johnson and that he moved from Missouri to live with his aunt—but she always invited him out, always found ways to tease him, always tried to make him smile.

And she was cute and pretty and sweet, but she was no Jaz. No one could ever even begin to compare to Jazmyn Park.

“Well now that somebody’s here, I’m gonna go get changed and get the hell out of here,” Diane said with a smirk, nudging Noah as she sashayed out from behind the counter.

“I said I was sorry,” Noah called after her. She just waved and disappeared into the employee area.

Noah let out a sigh and leaned his elbows against the countertop. The store wasn’t very busy right now, so he’d just get to stand there for hours, doing nothing. Doing nothing was hard because when you were doing nothing, there wasn’t anything to distract you from the terrible things you didn’t want to think about. He much preferred busy days to slow days.

The door jingled and Noah heard footsteps as people entered the store. He couldn’t see the door from where he stood. He hoped it was a munchy druggy or a parent with kids. Those people always bought the most stuff, which meant more time to be occupied.

“…Been a whole year now,” a familiar voice drifted over to where Noah stood. “And nobody knows where he is.”

Noah’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced furtively around the store. The newcomers to the store stepped out from behind a row of shelves and then, standing across the room with his back to Noah was a man with a flannel shirt and shoulder-length blond hair. A man Noah recognized all to well. Connor Green.

“Shit,” Noah muttered. His heart pounded in his chest and his mouth felt dry. “Shit shit shit sh—” 

Connor started turning, so Noah did the only thing he could think of. He dropped to his hands and knees behind the desk, disappearing from view.  Diane exited out of the employees-only area just as he did, and he saw confusion flit across her face.

“I miss Jaz,” Connor said. “She was really… somethin’ else. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

A very unjustified but burning hatred for that man flared up inside Noah. He remembered being at the hardware store, shopping for supplies to go up against Mr. Red—Jane. He remembered how Connor flirted with Jaz and how she flirted right back. And he remembered the day Andy asked them if they wanted to go to homecoming. Noah had said, “Seems kinda pointless to go without a date. And I’m… not really in a good place for that. Dating, I mean.” Then he asked Jaz who she wanted to go with and she turned around and went straight to Connor.

He knew he had no right to be angry about it. He’d told Jaz that he wasn’t in a place for dating, and he probably would’ve said no if she’d asked him. But when she decided to ask Connor and Noah responded with “Good luck,” he really had just wanted to clock Connor in the face.

“Do you think they’ll ever catch Noah?” another voice—a woman this time—asked. Noah’s heart nearly froze at the mention of his own name and he frantically tried to place the voice. Then he realized—it was Stacy Green, of course.

Another pair of hands and knees fell onto the ground beside Noah and he started, jumping back and nearly slamming against the back wall.

Diane watched him with an amused expression. Her short black pixie cut was messily styled and her dark makeup made her features stand out against pale skin. “What’re we doing down here, Johnson?” she asked.

“Uh…” His mind raced frantically, trying to come up with some sort of explanation. Some sort of truth and lie mixture that could get him out of this mess. “I know those people from high school. And, uh, they were snobby assholes who hated me. So, I just don’t  want them to know I work here, okay?”

The amusement faded from Diane’s eyes and she nodded solemnly. “I understand. I know I already clocked out, but… I can cover for you until they leave.”

“Really?” Noah couldn’t hide the relieved smile that stole onto his face. 

“Oh yeah,” Diane said. “But you owe me.”

“Okay yeah, that’s fair. What do you want? I can cover your hours or—“

“A date,” Diane said with a smug smile, and before he could protest she bounced to her feet and pasted a winning smile onto her face.

“Hiiii,” she greeted. Noah wondered if she was talking to Connor and Stacy. All he could see was the gross tile, front counter, and Diane’s legs. “Can I help you with something?”

“Hey,” Connor’s voice said. “Cute shirt, by the way.”

Noah wanted to barf. Flirting with random strangers was so Connor.

“We just wanted to buy a few things and ask a few questions, if that’s all right?” Stacy said. Noah could practically hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay, shoot!” Diane said.

Noah heard the sound of items being dropped on the counter, and then the register creaking like it did whenever anyone leaned on it. He could imagine Connor leaning against it now, looking at Diane with the stupid flirtatious smirk he always used on Jaz.

“We were wondering—” it was Connor again “—have you heard of anyone… suspicious running through these parts?”

Diane let out a sharp laugh. “Is that all you’ve got to go off of? I’m sorry, sweetie, but if I told you all the suspicious people I’ve seen around here I’d be listing names ‘til midnight.”

Noah snorted silently. Leave it to Diane to handle a situation like this so perfectly.

He heard Stacy sign in aggravation. “Connor, maybe I should handle this.” There were shuffling footsteps, rustling of the contents of a purse, and something being slapped onto the countertop. “Have you seen anyone who looks like this man? About this tall, almost always wears a beanie? His name is Noah but he probably goes by something else?”

All traces of a smile evaporated from Noah’s face. His heart started to race with panic. He chanced a look up at Diane’s face, and her eyes were narrowed, her mouth tugged into a frown.

Silence. No sound besides a ticking clock and Russ shuffling around the aisles. Diane stared at the counter, at what Noah was sure was a picture of him. He held his breath, waiting for her to jump aside and say, “Oh you’re looking for this guy? Here he is, take him!”

But instead, she shook her head. Her voice was tight. “Nope, never heard of a ‘Noah.’ Also never seen this guy. Sorry.”

Relief flooded through Noah, almost as satisfying a feeling as a heroin high. Diane wasn’t giving him up. At least not yet.

Connor sighed loudly. “Do you have any idea who might know something? This is important. We got a tip that he moved to this area recently but so far, we’ve found nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Diane said. “Why’re you looking for him? Maybe if I knew I could point you to the right people.” 

Noah frantically grabbed her foot, trying to somehow signal to her to not ask these questions. But she shook him off and kept staring straight forward.

“It’s kind of… a personal thing,” Stacy said.

“Well I can’t help if you don’t tell me anything,” Diane countered.

“Look,” Connor interceded. “The police are after him for something he actually didn’t do. We think we might be able to help him, but he’s dodging us.”

Diane glanced down at Noah for a fraction of a second. Then she shrugged. “A person on the run? I’d look for them in Lensgate Park. Or maybe check out the baseball field on eleventh. Tons of shady people hang out there. They might know something.”

“Lensgate Park…” Stacy repeated slowly, probably entering it into her phone. “Okay. And you said eleventh?”

“Yup,” Diane said dryly. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope,” Connor said. “You’ve been great. I hope you have a great shift.”

Finally, finally, the footsteps sounded once again, the bell rang as it was opened, and then the door slammed shut. Noah barely had time to reorient himself before Diane reached down and pulled him roughly to his feet.

“Malcolm, what the hell was that about? Who were those people? They weren’t high school bullies, this was something else entirely. And Noah? The cops? What. The. HELL.”

“Diane, Diane,” Noah said, grabbing her by the arms. “Look, those people are from where I grew up, and they… they can’t be trusted.” His mind scrambled to come up with some sort of excuse, but all he could see was Jaz, over and over again. Her terror when she realized he tricked them, her body, broken in his arms… “Um, they, want to frame me—”

Diane scoffed and glared into his honey brown eyes. “Do you expect me to believe that? Are you just one big lie?”

Noah fell back a step, the color draining from his face. “I—”

“Save it, Malcolm. If that’s even your real name.” Diane skirted around the counter and headed for the door. “I backed you up because I liked you, but whatever you’re involved in, I don’t want any part in it. You can forget about the date.”

Noah’s eyebrows knit together as he watched her head out the front door, never looking back. Russ came out from one of the aisles, glancing between Noah and Diane.

“What happened with you two?” Russ asked.

Noah skirted around the counter, removing the name badge he wore on his shirt. “Sorry, Russ, but consider this my resignation.”

He dropped the badge on the counter and shouldered past a shocked Russ.

“Wh—what?” Russ sputtered, chasing after Noah. “Johnson, if you leave it’s just me and Tom. I need the coverage, at least wait until tomorrow—”

“Stuff came up,” Noah said, pushing the glass door open with his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Russ.”

Russ watched helplessly from the sidewalk as Noah slid into his old beat-up car. He turned the radio on high as he backed out of the parking lot.

He was going to Lensgate Park, or maybe the baseball field on Eleventh.

He was going to figure out what Stacy and Connor knew.

***

Post-note: I wrote this a while ago and wasn’t going to finish but that fic by @isometimesplaychoices inspired me to continue and finish this fic, ily friend!!