#hockendrabbles

[hockyeah]

enjoltaire marching band au!

i know i don’t post my writing on tumblr much anymore but! this fic has recently become my newest favorite thing so yeah! drum major enjolras, tenor sax grantaire, she-band-igans galore. click here to read :)

[hockyeah]

hey please read my les mis marching band au here! it’s a good time featuring drum major!enjolras and more of your faves!  

[hockyeah]

spooked : kleinphy

a/n: ok so hi @beaniejared !! its trumpet anon!! merry christmas!! congrats on dealing with my endless pestering for the entire month (wow!!) all self deprecating jokes aside, i had so much fun being your santa! heres a very kleinphy halloween, because i saw that your boys wanted halloween and ran with it ( @dear-evan-hansen-secret-santa )

warnings: they go to a haunted house but it's mostly fluff

word count: 3791

rated t for these fucking gays swear so much 

“Ow! Zoe, fuck off with that hairbrush or I’ll shove it up your ass.” Connor complained, swatting away her attempts to fix his hair.

“Connor, watch your language and be nice to your sister.” Cynthia tutted, adjusting the bow on her witch hat. Connor scowled, adjusting his headband. He turned to look at his sister, who was now brushing her own hair before dividing it into sections and braiding them.

“Sorry.” He said without remorse. Zoe stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and Connor had to bite back the instinct to do it back.

It had been her idea to go to a haunted house. Connor had been put off by the idea at first (weren’t they much too old to be celebrating halloween like that?), but, thanks to his sister’s constant begging and a fair share of bribery, he had agreed. It was later that he found out that it had actually been Alana’s idea. And she had invited Jared Kleinman, who had, in turn invited Evan Hansen.

So he was stuck going to a fucking haunted house that probably wasn’t even scary with a band of four other people. And that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst had to be that his mother was so positively delighted that he was spending time with other people that she had to eject herself into their lives, managing to be more excited than either of the siblings.

Most of Connor said that this was an awful idea, that he was going to absolutely hate it, and it would be better to fuck off and get high at some party. But, he had to admit, there was some small part of his that was excited for this recreation of his childhood. And, to be doing it with a group people who genuinely tried to understand and get along with him? He couldn’t ask for anything better.

That being said, the night would still probably be total hell.

“I have to run to the store for tea lights for our pumpkins, if you guys leave before I get back, just shoot me a text.” Cynthia stood, grabbing her car keys and running out the door.

Connor truly didn’t understand why his mother suddenly cared so much about Halloween. It was probably because she hadn’t had two children celebrating halloween together since Connor was thirteen.

Halloween used to be his favorite holiday. Forget Christmas, forget his birthday, Halloween was the one holiday where no one would look at his oddly, no one would expect any gratitude in return. There were no stuffy family traditions that he would have to sit through. It was just him and Zoe, dressed up in whatever costume they had decided on that year.

But suddenly, when he hit high school, his father deemed him too old to trick-or-treat, and insisted he stay behind. He hadn’t wanted any of the younger children to be scared. That part had stung, but Connor couldn’t fight back, instead having locked himself in his room for that first year, and fucked off to some party for all the succeeding years. But now, a glimmer of hope shown, through Zoe trying to genuinely connect with him, in the form of a group activity and a shitty sibling costume.

“Connor,” Zoe waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you here? Alana just pulled up.” Connor scrunched his face up and backed away from her hand, standing up. Zoe tugged at the wings on his back. “Be careful how you sit, you may fuck your wings up.”

“Oh, and I would hate for that to happen.” He remarked sarcastically. Zoe playfully hit him on the back of his head, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the front door. He laughed sharply, letting the hint of a smile flit across his features. He looked at his sister’s costume, a pair of red devil horns in her hair and a belt with a pointed tail attached wrapped around her waist.

He was the angel, she was the devil. It was a classic role reversal, and Connor found it hilarious that Zoe had come up with the idea. He walked up to Alana’s car, the sun already beginning to set over the loose hills. Zoe ran past him.

“Shotgun!” she yelled, opening the car door to find Jared Kleinman already sitting in the passenger seat. “Get out, Jared.” she demanded playfully.

Jared Kleinman was something of an anomaly to Connor. He managed to worm his way into everything he ever tried to do, and refused to get out, like some disgusting parasite. However, something about him was endearing, something kept Connor pushing for more, always arguing back and forth. His insults used to sting, but now, the encouraged an equally shitty reply and from a light blush to bloom on his cheeks.

To say he had a crush on something as utterly repulsive as Jared Kleinman? Completely false. Connor swallowed at the thoughts, forcing himself back into the scene unfolding in this driveway.

“No way! I was here first.” He retailed. Alana leaned over, unbuckling Jared’s seatbelt for him. Jared bleated loudly, sending a sideways glance at the girl in the driver’s seat. “What the fuck? I’m being teamed up on, this is bullying-”

“Sorry, Jared. I’m the driver, I have final say, and I say that Zoe’s sitting up here. Better luck next time, bucko.” She smiled sweetly, letting Jared slide out of the seat, surrendering it to the smug look on Zoe’s face. Connor climbed into the backseat, watching for the disappointed look on Jared’s face when he, too, climbed in and saw that he was spending his time in the backseat with no other than Connor Murphy.

“Ah!” Jared yelled at the sight of Connor, “Hey there, Hot Topic, don’t worry, the halo doesn’t detracted from the whole edgelord persona.” Earlier in the year, Connor may have been angered by Jared’s remarks, but now, he knew that the brutal insults that they traded was just another type of banter, even if many thought that they were constantly at each other’s throats.

“Oh, and I can see that my favorite asshole didn’t bother dressing up, he’s already scary enough.” Connor shot back. Alana snorted from the front seat. Jared fanned himself, false tears springing to his eyes.

“I’m your favorite?” He asked, batting his eyelashes, “I could cry.” He dropped his dramatics. “Don’t accuse me of not having a costume, Murphy. I’m not as uncultured as you think I am. It’s just in the back because I didn’t want to bend it.”

“He’s not lying.” Alana said from the driver’s seat. “I had to help him load it.”

“Whatever.” Connor grumbled, pulling his legs onto the seat. “Isn’t Evan coming?” He was not sitting next to Jared’s infuriating ass this entire car trip. It wasn’t that Jared even got on his nerves anymore, and that’s truly what scared Connor more than any haunted house ever would.

“Nope.” Alana responded. “He said Heidi managed to get the night off, and he thought it a haunted house would be too much for his anxiety.” Connor nodded. Evan would quite possibly flip shit at anything remotely scary. Even if Jared was annoying, he wasn’t prepared to deal with Evan bawling his eyes out. It wasn’t Evan’s fault either, and Connor made a mental note to tell him he was missed.

“So you’re stuck with me, edgelord.” Jared gested playfully. Over the past few months, his insults had lost their edge, sharp taunts becoming a form of playful banter between the two.

“Unfortunately, shortass.” He grumbled, looking out the window, the trees racing past highlighting the brilliant orange backdrop of the sinking sun. It would be dark soon, long shadows already sliding across the paved roads. Alana turned onto a small road, following signs for the haunted house. It was a recurring fixture in their small town, open only August through November, and apparently making a killing.  

“Woah, that’s a low blow!” Jared fired at him.

“Maybe because you’re so close to the ground.” Connor immediately shot back, smiling in spite of himself.

“You’re so mean to me.” Jared pouted, but his words were laced with laughter. In the low lighting of the sunset, he looked like he was glowing. Connor took a spare moment to admire his face, but quickly shied away, quashing the warmth blossoming in his chest. Now was not the time to fixate on the entrancing fucker.

Alana turned into a heavy populated parking lot (the house was apparently a very desirable Halloween hangout) and maneuvered through the grid of cars, pulling into an open space.

“Get out of my car.” She commanded, pulling out her keys and unlocking the doors as the lights blinked on.

“Wow, someone’s bossy.” Zoe retorted cheekily, opening her door.

“Is that a bad thing, Ms. Murphy?” Alana teased. Connor saw a faint blush scatter itself on his sister’s lightly freckled cheeks and gagged.

“Get a room.” He jeered. Zoe turned and stuck her tongue out at him for the second time that night. He flicked her off in return.

He exited the car, shutting the door after him. Jared had popped the trunk, removing his costume, a large white sign emblazoned with black letters.

“Nudist on strike.” Jared read  his sign aloud, seeming very pleased with himself. He pulled the sign over his head.

“You think  you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” Connor asked him, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Oh Connor, darling, I don’t just think it. I know it.” Jared batted his eyelashes, slamming the car door shut so that the lights blinked off. Connor blushed at this appropriated pet name, but disguised it before it was too noticeable. The two followed Zoe and Alana towards the house, standing in a line with swarms of people. Alana purchased their tickets, smiling sweetly at the tired looking teen taking their cash.

“Okay, miss. There’s a few simple rules here. Firstly, no flashlights. It ruins the fun. Secondly, do not harm our actors. There are real people underneath that makeup. And, finally,” He delivered the line with tired impatience. “Try to make it out alive.”  He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and Connor truly felt sorry for him.

There were hundreds of people, all roughly in groups of four or five like their own. Many were costumed, too, bright wigs and long capes adding to the scene. Jared got far too many compliments on his cheeky costume, but that was just Connor’s opinion.

They followed the line of people into the front door of the haunted house, where they waited another ten minutes, (Within this time, Alana and Zoe had discreetly grabbed each other’s hands, but Connor chose not to say anything) and then were directed inside the house, the door slamming behind them, and with it, any light left fleeing from the room.

Suddenly, the group was bathed in darkness.

Connor looked around, immediately disoriented. He grabbed the closest thing he could find to steady himself.

“Murphy! Paws off!” Jared squawked, breaking the silence. Connor released Jared hesitantly, his eyes slowly adjusting to the room.

“Zoe? Alana?” He called, hoping they weren’t too far. When no response came, he returned his grip to Jared’s shoulders. Jared grumbled in disagreement, but didn’t bother shoving Connor’s hands off as he had before.

“They probably went ahead of us already, no biggie.” Jared explained. Connor noticed the slightest hint of shakiness in his voice, smirking slightly in the dark.

“Well, we can’t just stand here forever. Let’s get moving. Maybe we’ll catch up?” Connor tried, reluctantly letting go of Jared to continue going what he hoped was forward.

“Maybe.” Jared replied from behind him, catching up so that they were walking side by side. They entered the next room, a large hallway dimly lit by two candles at the end. Portraits of all shapes and sizes lined the room, eerie faces with eyes far too realistic for Connor’s taste. He resisted the urge to once again attached himself to Jared, instead bravely leading the way, ignoring the way the eyes seemed to follow him, sticking to his neck like heavy molasses.

They reached the end of the hall without incidence, passing by the final portrait. A hand shot out from the picture, almost like it was coming out of the painting itself, and grabbed Connor’s arm. He jumped several feet, and, judging from the small screech and the battery of curse behind him, a similar fate had befallen Jared.

“Piss off! Skedaddle! Get the fuck away! Shoo!” Jared reached down, unattaching the hand that was clamped around his ankle. Connor repeated the motion on his extra hand, the appendage shooting back inside as if nothing had happened in the first place. Connor turned back to look at Jared.

“That was…” He was breathing heavily.

“Terrifying? Invasive? Utterly petrifying?” Jared supplied.

“Any of the three. Let’s keep going.” Connor nodded, letting Jared lead the way. They turned into another room, a bedroom type scene. It was dimly lit as before, smelling musty and looking about the same. Connor pointedly tried to ignore the figure pointedly wrapped in white sheets in the childlike bed.

Jared walked through with the same hesitance as before, holding his hands up on the defensive. Connor trained his eyes ahead, promising himself to not look backwards. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

“Who the fuck is touching my hair.” He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. Jared whipped around, looking at him, his eyes widening. A slight, childish giggle sounded from behind him.

Whatever, Connor told himself, you signed up for this. And with that, he too turned around, finding himself face to face with a grotesquely mottled girl. She smiled a toothless grin, and had it been any other situation, Connor would have stopped to admire her makeup. But instead, his fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he turned to lock eyes with Jared, pleading for him to run.

Jared took his cue, flinging open the door and plunging himself into the darkness. Connor followed, taking extra care to shut the door after him. The two ran, side by side, through the dark hallway, not stopping to care, only wanting to reach the next room without encountering another creepy companion.

“Connor, is it just me,” they had stopped running, both panting from the exertion, “or is this hallway getting smaller?” He looked around wearily. Connor’s eyes, now adjusted to the dark, looked into Jared’s beady small ones. He glanced around, coming to a darkening conclusion.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” He affirmed, cursing internally. Why had he let Zoe drag him out to this? He knew that there was no real danger other than maybe a few bumps or bruises, but still, if anything, this trip had proved that he was a bigger pussy than he thought.

The hallway was beginning to shift, the painted walls slowly transforming into something softer and more constricting. Connor let Jared lead the way, resisting, for the millionth time, the urge to cling to Jared like a scared puppy.

“This stuff is so fucking weird. I think it’s like foam or some shit.” Jared poked one of the walls experimentally.

“Do we keep going?” Connor asked.

“No, we dig our way out. Of course we keep going.” Jared retorted, sarcasm lacing his words, and took a step forward into the closing cavity. The two slid through the hallway, eventually turning on their sides to fit through. Connor found himself short of breath, the restricting cavern freezing the air in his lungs. Jared must have noticed something, because he spoke up.

“Just breathe, Murphy. It’s like music. In for four, hold for four, out for four.” He instructed, demonstrating the pattern on himself. Connor mimicked this, steeling his gut. He was not going to have a panic attack in the middle of a haunted house in front of Jared Kleinman. If not at the very bottom of his to-do list, it was very close to the end of “things I want to do in front of Jared Kleinman.”

Jared was the first to push through, landing them in a very normal looking staircase. It was the first properly lighted room in the house, and Connor blinked, readjusting to the light. He and Jared shared a look of disbelief. This looked too good to be true, but they continued descending the stairs, finally reaching the door at the end of the flight.

“God, this is the last fucking time I go along with anything Zoe plans.” Connor said, looking at Jared and shaking his head. Jared raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’d say it was a bonding experience.” Jared reasoned.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Connor retorted. They had stopped at the closed door, both too uneasy to open it.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Connie?” Jared batted his eyelashes. Connor would almost call it adorable, if the offending person was anyone but Jared.

“God, call me that again and I’ll punch your fucking lights out.” Connor threatened, but the heat wasn’t there. He found the term near-endearing, and the thought of that repulsed him so much that he shoved it to the back crevice of his mind, planning never to think of it again.

Jared finally reached for the door swinging it open slowly. Connor felt himself bracing for impact, thinking that something had to go wrong. He squeezed his eyes closed, tensing his tall frame.

And nothing happened. He cracked open his eyes, the door revealing a dark and musty looking room. It wasn’t appealing, but, then again, nothing about the excursion had been. He looked over at Jared, the portly boy shrugging weakly and stepping into the room.

A mechanical noise ripped through the air, and Connor instinctively looked over his shoulder. He swore, yanking Jared around so they both faced the bloodied mask of a ghoulish creature bearing a chainsaw. It stepped towards the pair, Connor gawking.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Jared swore loudly. Connor grabbed Jared’s hand instinctively and bolted, dragging him through the dark room and into another, somehow even mustier room, the low hanging ceiling adorned with webs and spiders. Connor hoped they weren’t real, still gripping Jared’s hand. The two tore into the room, shoulders dripping with cotton webs, and stopped to catch their breath.

“Why are you such a pussy?” Jared asked between gulps of air.

“I’d ask the same of you.” Connor responded. Jared flicked him the bird, still clenching his hand tightly. Suddenly, the rip of the annoying, probably not even real (but still petrifying) chainsaw came back into earshot, and Jared and Connor locked eyes again. Jared bolted this time, yanking Connor along. The sound was getting closer and closer, and, even if Connor knew he wouldn’t get hurt, fear still coursed through his veins. Jared yanked him sharply, pulling him around a corner Connor didn’t even know existed. It was only when he heard a door slam had he realized that Jared had pulled him into a closet.

“Kleinman! What the everloving fuck!” Connor whispered-yelled, finding himself in a very compromising position. The closet was far too small for them, the near-crawl space designed to fit one person at most.

“Shh!” Jared shushed him, “The bitch will pass, and then we’ll be home free. Just- just sit still.”

“I’m not doing much sitting-” Connor complained, heat rising in his cheeks. If they had been the same height, perhaps they would have found themselves nose to nose, but because Jared’s stature was small - and Connor’s was anything but - they stood awkwardly in a face to chest position, pressed tightly against each other.

“I get your fucking point, asshole.” Jared retorted. Neither of them had released the other’s hand.

“So we’re stuck like this?” Connor asked. He couldn’t move without being pressed even closer to Jared, something he was trying to avoid at all costs.

“Unless you have any other ideas?” Jared replied, pushing further into the closet. It was pitch back all around. “I’m surprised we’re still alive and intact.”

“No, I’m surprised you’re still alive and intact. I’m quite murderous tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jared snapped playfully.

“Oh, blow me, Kleinman.” Connor quipped back.

“Do you know how unsanitary that would be?” Jared said after a moment of silence.

“I’d rather not think about it.” Connor cringed, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“What would you rather think about, then?” Jared challenged.

“Not you.” Connor dissented.

“Oh, blow me, Murphy.” Jared parroted the phrase from moments earlier. Connor froze. Through their entire barrage of back and forth insults, the two had come closer and closer together, and he had just realized. He was sure Jared had noticed, too, as the shorter boy shifted uncomfortably against the wall. The air was suddenly thick, the space seeming much smaller than before.

“You fucking wish.” Connor’s words cut through the heavy, inexplicably hot, air. He was blushing, blushing heavily, and was grateful for the cover of darkness to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

“I wish a lot of things, but definitely not that.” Jared tactfully replied.

“Like what?” He prompted.

And suddenly, Jared mouth was on his, their frames pushing together in the tiny, pitch black closet. It was warm and chaste, Jared’s soft lips pressing against Connor’s chapped ones. Connor breathed sharply, kissing back without thought. To say it was an ideal spot for a kiss would not have been accurate, but something about the illusioned terror waiting outside the door propelled them onwards, Connor’s long arms wrapping themselves around Jared’s warm shoulders. They broke apart suddenly.

“What the fuck.” Was the first thing out of Connor’s mouth.

“Look, if you want to say that never happened-” Jared offered, but Connor cut him off.

“No, do that again.” Connor said, and Jared kindly obliged him.

Later that night, when they were found in that same closet by another tired employee, a noticeably disheveled Alana, and a furious Zoe (who had, as it turned out, gone ahead of them earlier in the house), both boys would deny anything ever happening. That being said, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out the change in chemistry between the two. On the drive home, when Jared fell asleep on Connor’s shoulder, Zoe whipped her head around to interrogated him. He simply smiled, told her not to worry about it, and she may want to invest in some concealer to cover the rather noticeable hickey on her neck. Alana laughed, Zoe blushed, and, in that moment, Connor decided that, just for a minute, everything would be okay.

[hockyeah]

[Synonym for Door] · Kleinsen

(a/n: @nyarki‘s soul is fueled by hate for innocent foods and kleinsen angst, so this is written for her and her dedication in fucking with me as i write)

word count: 2078

warnings: angst, drinking, jared is a useless gay

·······

“Evan, open up!” Jared knocked insistently at the locked door, “Evan, open the fuck up! I know you’re in there.”

It had been several days since he had seen Evan, which, in the past, may have been considered normal, but now, it was odd and rather out of place. Evan had been doing remarkably well, but alongside that, Jared had become extremely excluded, almost isolated from him. He was what, the treasurer of The Connor Project? Or the secretary? Hell, he couldn’t remember.

He did, however, remember that Evan, the only one who he had ever truly befriended, was somewhere behind this door that couldn’t be opened.

“Evan?” he tried again, jiggling the doorknob, “Evan, unlock your fucking door!” He didn’t want to break the lock- he doubted he possessed the strength- but he was considering it as an option. He listened closely, hearing something shift on the other side.

“No.” came a dejected reply. Jared sighed loudly, but was relieved. Evan was conscious, and in a good enough state to speak, even if he had only spoken to defy him. God, if only he was wrong enough to break through. He tried to recall something Alana had tried to teach him when she had done karate last year- he hadn’t listened, he could barely keep up. Maybe, if only he had listened and learned, maybe he could bust in heroically and rescue Evan from whatever pit he’d fallen into. Jared shook his head. He could barely lift his bookbag during finals, he doubted he could break a door.

“Open the hell up or I’m calling your mother.” Jared put an edge in his tone. It was a stretch: he didn’t know if Heidi would pick up, he didn’t know if she would do anything. Hell, he didn’t even know if he had her number, but it was worth trying anyway. Evan was silent for a minute, and Jared thought he had won, but another response came through the door.

“Please don’t come-” Evan paused, suppressing something- a hiccup maybe? “In.” His speech was unnaturally slurred, and Jared’s expression shifted to one of concern. Was Evan drunk? Jared’s mind began to race, concerned. He couldn't leave, but he also couldn’t get through the damn door.

“Evan, are you drunk?” Jared asked. A beat passed, and Jared took that as an answer. “Evan, I’m calling Heidi,” he took out his phone and scrolled through the contacts, “Evan, I have her number pulled up, and I’m going to press call if you don’t open the fuck up.” That was a lie: it turns out Jared did not have Heidi’s number and instead was bullshitting the entire thing. He hoped it worked, and he wouldn’t have to continue bluffing.

Jared was silent, straining his ears for a response. He heard feet shuffle through the wood of the door, getting closer and closer before pausing, right on the other side of the door. Jared heard a lock click, and sighed in relief. He wanted to force the door open before Evan could change his mind, but waited for the other to slowly twist the knob, not opening it yet.

“Jared d-don’t  c-c-come in.” Evan’s words fell out in one short breath, not bothering to make space between each word. Jared ignored the request and pushed sharply against the wood with his shoulder, shoving his way into Evan’s room.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight of Evan. His shirt was rumpled and damp around the neckline from what Jared assumed was his wiped off tears, his eyes were puffy and red, and most of all, he reeked of alcohol. Jared locked eyes with Evan, letting out a soft gasp. A tense silence passed before Evan heaved a huge breath and dissolved into tears again. Jared stood, frozen, and watched the tears roll down Evan’s face, dripping down his chin and falling onto the carpet.

Jared didn’t know what to do, he wanted to step forward, take Evan in both his arms and just hold him, but he didn’t know if that was the best approach, Evan always flipped whenever he was touched unexpectedly, and Jared did not want a freak out on top of this disaster. Another impulse was to immediately respond with sarcasm,  but that wouldn’t be a good idea either, for Evan doesn’t take criticism well normally, and there was no telling how he’d respond.

“I’m sorry.” Evan mumbled out between tears, sitting down on his bed and putting his head in his hands. He had transitioned into full on sobbing now, his entire body shaking.

“Why?” Jared asked. He hoped he wasn’t being too forward, that his tone wasn’t too biting. Evan still jumped slightly, slowing raising his head to let his watery eyes dart around the room uncertainly. Jared cringed inwardly, hating that his voice always seemed to elicit the same reaction out of Evan.

“I d-don’t wanna t-t-t-talk about it.” he muttered, looking away. Jared hated seeing him like this,  and yet, couldn’t find a way to connect, to calm him down, bring him down, and help him. He looked down, realizing that his feet were still planted firmly to Evan’s carpet.

Now would be a good time to move your ass, he thought, and he awkwardly shuffled to the bed, sitting to the right of Evan. Evan shrunk beside him , trying to escape. From what? Jared asked himself. From him? This was a mistake, he should have just left Evan and let him work whatever this crisis is out himself, he should’ve stayed home. He could’ve finished his Biology homework by now, but he had to come here just to check on Evan. Why? Why did he care, why was he here?

A movement from Evan brought him back into the present, and he watched as he carefully lifted his head out of his hands and wiped his fingers on his shirt. His cheeks were tear stained, and Jared’s heart couldn’t help but break slightly as he was truly close enough to see how much of a mess Evan had become. Jared carefully put his hand in the small of Evans back, hoping that it seemed comforting. The movement had seemed perfect in his mind, but now it seemed awkward, if well-intentioned.

Evan relaxed into it though, and his sobs softened as Jared began rubbing small circles into his back. Jared wasn’t quite sure what to think. Evan seemed so open, so vulnerable, and  Jared’s emotions conflicted inside his brain. He still didn’t know what had set Evan off, and he wished he did: he wanted to give it a strong uppercut to the jaw. Evan sighed loudly, tears still rolling intermissevely down his cheeks.

“Hold me.” He mumbled. Jared froze mid-circle.

“What?” he asked. He couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“N-nothing.” Evan replied. Jared’s brow contorted. He had definitely heard something.

“Evan, I can hold you if you’ll stop fucking crying.” Jared tried. Evan looked at him and sniffed, slowly nodding.

“Please.” he breathed, and Jared sat for a moment, wondering how the hell he was going to do this. He pulled his hand away from Evan’s back and leaned into the corner where the bed met the wall. He was partially supported by a pillow, and he left enough space for Evan to lean beside him. Evan watched until he was situated and them moved, curling up into Jared's form. Jared put an arm around Evan, holding him to his chest. Evan was unbelievably warm, and also reeked of alcohol. Jared wondered how much he had drunk, and also, where he had gotten it, for Heidi wasn’t ever really one to keep alcohol around.

The two sat together like this for some time, and Jared couldn’t help but study the taller boy’s features, for through his tears he could still see the slope of his nose, and the way his bottom lip stuck out farther than his top. Jared thought it was cute, the permanent pout that always graced his features. However, now was not the time to study Evan’s face, instead, he focused on trying to comfort the by that was beside him. He didn’t quite know how to- how do you comfort someone without words? Just give them a comfort vibe?- anything he said always had an unexpected edge, sarcasm from places you’d never expect, and he didn’t want to upset Evan more.

Evan had closed his eyes for the majority of this, his brow still creased. Jared wanted to rub his forehand with his thumb- his mother had always done that to him when he couldn’t sleep- but Evan seemed content where he was, so he instead focused on Evan’s warm body in his arms, and the way his chest rose and fell smoothly as he breathed in and out.

“Evan, do you wanna tell me why you haven’t left your room in days?” he tried for a neutral tone. Evan opened his eyes and blinked, formulating a response.

“It’s stressful- I mean, the whole thing is my fault- but…” he trailed off, studying a spot on the ceiling intensely. Was he talking about The Connor Project? “I guess- I thought I was doing b-better, I thought it was gonna b-be okay.”

“This isn’t what okay is supposed to look like.” Jared could plainly see that. “Aren’t your meds supposed to help with shit like this?”  Evan took a breath, pausing.

“I stopped taking them,” Evan said, not leaving space between his words.

“Evan, what the hell? You’ve been on those same meds since what, eighth grade year? You can’t just not take them, it’ll like, fuck with your brain chemistry and shit!” Jared didn’t know much about medication, but he did know one thing: don’t fuck with your brain.

“I thought I was finally okay! That was finally… I don’t know, normal?” Evan sounded desperate, like he was so close to something that he couldn’t quite grasp. Jared let one of his hands meander to the top of Evan’s head, and he let himself run his fingers through the other’s dirty blonde hair.

“You’re not normal, and that’s okay. Fuck, I’m not normal and that’s just fine with me.” Jared was concerned, but he didn’t want that to be evident in his voice. Evan was starting to calm down, and Jared didn’t want to mess anything up.

“I’m sorry.” Evan breathed, leaning his head into the crook of Jared’s neck. Jared moved his arm upwards, holding Evan tighter. Jared hated that Evan had to beat himself up like this. He had managed to figure out that Evan had just gotten overstimulated and spiraled into something akin to a panic attack, and since he didn’t think taking his meds was a good idea, he had turned to alcohol.

Jared wasn’t going to lie- he had drank with Evan before, but both had been too preoccupied with other things to let something like this happen.

“It’s okay.” Jared murmured soothingly. He knew it wasn’t, but what else was there to say? Evan’s breathing had stabilized, and his eyes had remained shut for quite some time now, and Jared figured it wouldn’t be long before they were both asleep, and he hoped Heidi wouldn’t mind if she found her son asleep in the arms of his best friend.

“I love you.” Evan mumbled, curling into him and letting out a final exhausted breath and, as far as Jared could tell, falling fast asleep. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Jared, whose eyes, after hearing those three words, had shot open, his mind racing. Was Evan serious? He couldn’t be, he was drunk, and tired, and emotionally exhausted, and couldn’t mean what he just said.

Jared had been trying to put it past himself for years, but he couldn’t deny- he had a thing for Evan Hansen. At first, it had been casual, noticing how beautiful Evan’s eyes were, or appreciating how his bottom lip stuck out farther than his top. But, it had escalated to full on pining through freshman and sophomore year. He had tried to talk himself out of it all of last year, but that had worked just about as well as he expected, and here he was, almost panicking, halfway through senior year.

However, there wasn’t much he could do right now, and he supposed he would just have to face Evan’s words tomorrow. But, for right now, he let himself enjoy Evan in his arms, Evan’s breath against his neck, as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

[hockyeah]

you want some treebros?

here’s my pride and joy!! its on ao3 and im in love.

title: Weeping Willow

summary: "Connor leaned a little a farther forward. The waves below were churning. He envisioned what it might be like: slipping from the edge, plummeted down and down and down until his body collided with the water, swallowed by the great black void. Hands scrambling for a purchase in the water, air leaching from his throat, until his vision faded to black and he lost all feeling. He couldn't help but smile."

~~

What to do when you hate yourself? What to do when you realize why?

co-author: @jack-be-clumsy

official botherer: @nyarki

[hockyeah]

Glass Vase · Kleinsen

(a/n: this is shit but @nyarki inspired me)

word count: 853

warnings: angst angst ANGST

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

“I can’t believe you!” Jared was fuming, screaming, but that was only because his insides were crumbling, falling to pieces, shattering like glass vase someone had dropped in the floor in shock. His heart had been stabbed to pieces by four words, four strikes to the gut as they fell from the stuttery lips of someone he thought loved him.

~

“J-Jared? C-Can I t-t-tell you s-something- I mean, it’s g-gonna sound awful but I s-swear it wasn’t my f-fault and oh my g-god I’ve f-f-fucked up.”

Jared hadn’t even bothered to look up. He thought it had been blown out of proportion by the other’s anxious mind. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, he had thought, it couldn’t possibly be that big of a deal.

“God, just spit it out, Hansen.” He probably just misplaced something, like Jared’s car keys, that he knew for a fact had been deposited on the kitchen table. Jared wished it had been the keys, he wished it was an overreaction, he wished it was that simple.

“I ch-cheated on y-y-y-you.” Jared replayed the words over and over in his head, hearing them in the same maddening voice, same stutter as the phrase was stumbled through. Four words.

Who knew four words was all Jared needed to hear to fall to pieces?

“I’m sorry, what?” Jared hadn’t quite processed it, or, more likely, he didn’t want to believe it. His gut had twisted and his blood ran cold.

“Oh my god- it sounds so bad- I- um- Connor Murphy.” Jared had frozen, very tentatively putting the pieces together. His heart was pounding, but the other continued, “He kissed me once. He was high- I think, I mean, I don’t know for sure but he smelled like it- and I... and I…”

“And?” Jared’s voice had squeaked, and he felt his breathing quicken. It couldn’t be true, none of this was. He was asleep. He must have been drunk as hell and fallen asleep and had this fucked up dream and he needed to just wake up.

“I d-don’t know why, I kissed him back. I f-f-fucking kissed him back and then he kissed me again and I don’t remember what happened but I’m so so s-sorry but then it kept h-happening and I d-don’t know w-w-why-”

~

“Oh my god, I trusted you! I fucking trusted you.” Jared was still yelling, but now, tears had begun to leak from the corners of his eyes, tracing a pattern down his cheek. His throat felt raw, his hands were shaking. Evan Hansen, the boy he thought loved him, was frozen in place, his hand mid-tug on his blue polo.

“I’m s-sorry, Jared, it wasn’t my fault I swear- I swear- it was Connor- Connor started it, Connor did it to me-” Evan was staring fixedly at the carpet on Jared’s floor, his words coming out quickly, all in one single breath.

“That’s your logic?!” Jared felt out-of-control, “That’s your bullshit kindergarten logic? Connor started it, you should hate Connor- well, guess what? You made the choice, you made the fucking choice!” He mocked Evan’s voice and stutter, knowing it was cruel, and not finding the place to care. Evan looked up at him and stumbled backwards, backing into a chair and almost falling. Jared couldn’t close his eyes, every time he did he saw Connor Murphy, Connor fucking Murphy kissing his boyfriend, seeing Evan unraveled and red-faced for him. He felt sick, physically sick, like he was going to throw up.

“This happened more than once?” Jared’s voice was dead, void of any emotion. He could barely force his mouth to work, wanting to do nothing more than curl up into a little ball and cry, with no blond-haired boy in a blue shirt and warm hands to comfort him. He wanted Evan to hold him while he cried, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of Connor Murphy. Connor fucking Murphy.

“Jared, I…” Evan had run out of ways to say sorry. Jared looked up and locked eyes with him, their teary blues searching for something to grasp, something that wasn’t broken. Jared wanted to run to him and out his arms around him, wipe the tears from his eyes and tell him that it was going to be alright, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, couldn’t tell him anything. “J-Jared I l-love you… and it sounds fake now, but I swear it isn’t and… and…” Evan trailed off, and Jared looked away from him. Tears were falling down his face with reckless abandon, fogging his glasses and dripping off his chin.

“Just leave. Maybe Connor will comfort you. ” Jared couldn’t feel anything, other than the restless churning of his stomach and the sting behind his eyes, and he could barely see Evan open his mouth to protest but stop, dejectedly hunching over and hugging himself. Jared sat on his bed as Evan passed, dragging his feet on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” he tried once more.

“Go.” was all Jared could muster as the door shut behind him, and he dissolved into tears.

[hockyeah]

do you love supporting my writing? do you love domestic aus? do you love sincerely three?

if you answered yes to any of these questions, you should check out this on my ao3 (you wont regret it)

[hockyeah]

please please do 66 with galaxy girls :0

66: “Is that a new perfume?”

i changed the prompt a little but oh well its basically the same

word count: 975

·······

Alana was certain that she was supposed to be doing some project right now, or some homework, or hell, even working on her resume, but she couldn’t drag her attention away from the entrancing girl that sat on her bed, strumming away at an well-worn guitar. She was humming, matching pitch with her guitar, and Alana found the melody gorgeous, wishing she could listen to it on repeat for the rest of her life. Jazz band, which Alana often stopped to listen to after debate club, ended early today, and that’s how Alana- in her own roundabout way of speaking- had invited none other than Zoe Murphy to come to her house until she could get a ride home.

Alana’s bike was used to extra weight, but she was very grateful it hadn’t collapsed under the weight of Zoe Murphy and her guitar case. It had taken some convincing to get Zoe to sit on her handlebars: she had almost called her dad and asked him to pick her up. Zoe almost fell multiple times, but they had made it too Alana’s house mostly unharmed, although the guitar was at risk of falling when Alana took a second look at the tethers.

“Why’d jazz band end early?” Alana asked, trying to pretend that she’d been doing homework instead of watching Zoe strum away at her guitar. Zoe looked up, her melody stopping.

“There was all-county band auditions today, and the director forgot to cancel jazz. Since I don’t play in the concert band, I didn’t audition, which meant that only me and a handful of kids who didn’t want to audition were there.” Zoe explained simply, her hands returned to her guitar, fingering a silent melody on the strings. Alana watched as she ran the music in her head, her tongue gently parting her lips in concentration. It was silent, and Alana hated the silence.

“That’s cool,” Alana cringed, not entirely sure where she was going with her sentence, “I mean, I was in all-county and all-district orchestra in freshman year, and I auditioned for all-state but never made it, and then I dropped out of orchestra because it conflicted with my Calculus class, and I was already arguing with the principal and trying to talk him into letting me test out of P.E., and I didn’t want another debate on my hands, and…” Alana stopped herself before she could continuing rambling, wondering just how many complete sentences her run-on phrase could be split into. She hated when she rambled, but something about Zoe Murphy made all of her anxious habits even worse.

“Oh,” Zoe replied, and Alana immediately knew she had blew it. Damn, she just wanted to hang out like a normal person and here she was, confusing the prettiest girl she had seen in awhile with her whirlwind of thoughts. “what’d you play?”

“Violin, and uh, piano on the side. I haven’t played in about two years though.” Alana admitted, pulling the hair tie out of her braided hair and letting the loose strands fall around her shoulders. Zoe smiled brightly, taking her hands off the neck of the guitar.

“Guitar and violin aren’t that different, y’know,” she paused, cocking her head and studying Alana with intense hazel eyes. Alana wondered what she was thinking, what gears were turning behind those beautiful eyes. “I’m pretty sure you could play if you knew how to finger notes.”

“Could you show me?” Alana asked. She hoped beyond hope that Zoe would nod, motion her over, put her hands on top of hers.

“Of course.” Zoe said without hesitation, patting the spot beside her on Alana’s bed. Alana would be embarrassed to admit it, but she lept alongside her heart at Zoe’s words. She restrained herself, carefully moving over and sitting next to Zoe. Zoe handed her the guitar hesitantly, and Alana held it the way she’d seen in photos, making a logical guess based on the more worn parts of the guitar from Zoe’s handling.

“Am I anywhere near correct?” she asked. A faint giggle escaped Zoe’s lips and she shook her head and positioned Alana’s hand’s on the guitar. Alana could barely breathe- Zoe Murphy’s hands, on top of her’s, gently guiding them to rest on certain strings. Alana couldn’t get over Zoe Murphy, the way her light brown hair hung loosely around her face, the way her eyes shimmered in the light, and mostly, the smell of Zoe Murphy, light and flowery and beautiful. It was different than what Alana was used to, for Zoe usually had more of a fruity perfume, although Alana couldn’t quite tell. She was embarrassed that she had even noticed in the first place.

“Now,” Zoe began, studying her hand position, “If you strum, it’ll make a chord.” Alana hesitantly ran her fingers over the strings, eliciting a noise from the guitar that slightly resembled what Zoe had tried to get her to play. Zoe nodded, smiling, before once again moving to reposition her fingers. Alana breathed deeply, trying to memorize every one of Zoe’s features.

“Did you get a new perfume?” the question slid between Alana’s lips before she could stop and censor herself. Zoe looked up at her, surprised.

“It is, actually. I ran out of my old one and had to use another.” Zoe stood abruptly, suddenly self conscious, “I can’t believe you actually noticed.” Alana laughed nervously, her heart fluttering. Zoe pulled her guitar away from Alana, sitting beside her and leaning the instrument carefully against the bed. Alana had to act now, she didn’t know if there would be another moment, another still in the conversation.

“Zoe?” Alana asked. Zoe looked at her, light eyes meeting rich dark ones, and nodded. “Wanna grab coffee sometime?”

“I’d love too.” Zoe smiled without hesitation, and Alana wished she could see that smile forever.

I