connor noon

Tree Bros Oneshot: Evan’s Birthday

AN: hey everyone! this is my first deh oneshot, so i hope you enjoy. 

July 10: Connor and Evan have been dating for a few months now, and today is Evan’s birthday. Connor has no idea what to get him, so he seeks help from his sister Zoe and Evan’s other friend Jared. Unfortunately, they’re as clueless as he is. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,123


“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” Connor panicked, pacing back and forth in his bedroom.

It was currently noon, and Connor had planned to pick up Evan for a little birthday date at four, but there was one problem. He didn’t have a present. 

“Dude, calm down. Just get him like a plant or something. He likes trees, right?” Jared sat in Connor’s office chair, spinning in circles and acting calmer than the Murphy boy. 

“Why don’t you buy him a Keurig? Everyone loves Keurigs,” Zoe chimed in. She was sprawled out on Connor’s bed with her head hanging upside down off the side. 

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A Little Bit of Light Part 1/2 (Connor Murphy Imagine)

Warnings: 3) is very vivid and descriptive about self harm, swears, me feeling hella emo writing this somEONE STOP ME FROM LISTENING TO A LITTLE BIT OF LIGHT AGAIN

What I’m doing with this is this is the second part in the series, the next t be uploaded will be the first part because I had the ideas for this and part one after I already uploaded the part three whoops. It’ll be in chronological order of events in the deh universe tho.


••••••

Cynthia remembers the day the light went out in Connor. She remembers the anger in his body language as he walked, the sadness in his eyes, the growl in his voice; but she didn’t want to think of that.

‘Think of all the good things!’ She consistently told her husband and daughter. They refused to see any good things in Connor. Cynthia remembers the good things, she can think of at least three times where there were moments with a little bit of light, where Connor tried to desperately to fight the war raging in his mind, until he lost the battle…


1)

“Zoe Nicole Murphy why is your hair purple!?” Larry’s yell could be heard through the house, but this wasn’t uncommon for the Murphy household.

“My hair isn’t purple!” Zoe defended.

“Then what the hell do you call this!?” Larry held a large portion of Zoe’s hair, which was definitely not her normal natural hair color.

“Indigo,” Zoe retorted smartly. Connor snorted from his place at the bar, where he had been sitting while reading his book and eating an apple. Larry stormed out of the room, furious that his daughter had done such a thing to her hair without even bothering to ask permission first. Connor stood, throwing out his apple core and closing his book. The book was old and withered from how many times Connor reread it, but t had always been one of his favorites.

“For the record, I think it looks pretty fucking cool,” he said to Zoe, monotonously so that he didn’t break his ‘reputation’ of sorts he had here, in his own home. She beamed at him as he left the room, successfully hiding his smirk from Zoe, but not from his mother. Cynthia stood nearby the kitchen door and watched as her son skulked back upstairs to his room and smiled happily.

/At least there were days where he let some light in/


2)

“C'mon, Connor, you can’t go trick or treating without a costume, that’s the Murphy’s Law!” Cynthia giggled from Connors doorway, watching as he set down his Trick or Treat bag and sit on his bed.

“No, Murphy’s law is that anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” Connor stated matter of factly, blowing a brown curl out of his eyes. Cynthia sighed, looking down at her sons pale, scrawny form. She had noticed his attitude change for a few months now but chose to ignore it, assuming it was just this phase every boy went through at his age.

“Don’t know how you can remember that but not ace all your science tests,” she smiled, showing Connor she was only joking and hoping she imagined his eye roll in response, “Why don’t you wanna dress up? C'mon, don’t you wanna be Spider-Man? He’s still cool, right?”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m 13, Mom, dressing up would be lame, especially in a costume like that,” Connor groaned as his mother begging him to wear the costume again. He’s worn it every Halloween for as long as he can remember, because Spider-Man’s always been his favorite superhero. His parent never complained, only made sure he was fine with wearing the same costume again. He knew they secretly liked it since Halloween costumes were expensive and that was one less kid to shop for, and that was secretly part of the reason why he never asked for a different costume.

“Well you aren’t going Trick or Treating without a costume,” Cynthia repeated. She could see Connor’s attempt to look indifferent, but she was also his mother, and knew when there was sadness in his eyes, “tell you what, if you wear… Hmm… this hoodie, and this t-shirt, you’ll pass as Peter Parker, and that could be a costume,” she suggested, grabbing a red Spider-Man shirt and a grey hoodie Connor rarely wore. His eyes lit up slightly, but he played it off, shrugging and agreeing to wear that as his costume. He left the room so he could change, standing outside his door at the end of the hall, beaming to herself as what she accomplished. A minute later, Connor came out with a small grin on his face, looking up at his mom. He had his empty bag in hand and his hoodie was zipped up halfway, the top of the black spider showing on his faded red t-shirt, and he now wore his beat up black converse.

“Ready to go, my Spider-Man?”

“Mom, don’t blow my cover,” Connor giggled. Cynthia ruffled his hair as he walked past her, the two of them coming downstairs to Larry and Zoe waiting, the twelve year old dressed in a flowery fairy costume, complete with an indigo flower crown to match the rest of her dress and wings. Cynthia smiled walking behind her two children all night, as they excitedly ran up to front doors to collect their candy. She didn’t know that within the next year she would wish that she enjoyed this peaceful moment for longer.

/My Spider-Man he stood at four foot two, such a happy child/

3)

Connor had grown to love that grey hoodie ever since he wore it that Halloween. When he hit his growth spurt and grew out of it, he begged his mother to get him a new one. She did, as she did anything to try to hold on desperately to her sons happiness. He was sixteen now, and halfway through his sophomore year. Cynthia couldn’t ignore his behavior anymore now, as it had worsened over he years. Connor and his sister never spoke, and when they did it was bickering or Connor threatening and cussing at Zoe. Zoe had cried to her mother a few times already this year about how people started to make fun of her and avoided talking to her because they think Connors insane. Cynthia knew she couldn’t avoid the topic much longer, but the smell of smoke was obvious every time Connor walked into a room. She never brought it up, thinking that if she left it alone eventually her fears would disappear.

Her method of helping her son was to let him sort out his problems on his own. She trusted Connor, he could make mart decisions, and whatever was happening in his mind was his problem to fight on his own, right? There was little she could do, but she tried. She desperately tried to have family meals, a chance to talk to her children about their days. Zoe contributed to conversation for a while, Connor sometimes did on a good day.

It was Saturday, meaning the Murphy children would be asleep, Zoe until at least ten and Connor until noon at least. Cynthia had given up on trying to get them to wake up sooner, to enjoy breakfast with her and Larry. Zoe she could get awake sometimes, but Connor had no motivation to do anything and stayed in bed til late, whether he was asleep or not. She worked around her children, cleaning and doing laundry until they woke up. She had folded a load and went to each child’s bedroom to put it in their for them to put away when they woke up. She walked down the hall to Connors bedroom, after going to Zoe’s and happily finding her awake and dressed, just brushing her hair at the moment. She quietly opened Connors door, entering his room and avoiding the books and clothes strewn across the floor. Walking to the desk by his bed she set down the stack of folded laundry, and checked the time on the clock in his room, seeing it was already twelve thirty. Deciding it was an appropriate time to wake her son up, she carefully walked to his bed, her hand reaching to nudge his shoulder carefully when her eyes caught something.

She gasped, tears filling her eyes as she pulled her now shaking hand back, hoping that the scars littering Connors wrist were figments of her imagination. She closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath, her hand tentatively reaching towards the boys wrist. She gently touches a scar, as if testing that its real. Being too focused on it, she doesn’t notice her son stir, or stare wide eyed at his mothers hand. She looks to her sons face, expecting and hoping to see his sleeping form at peace, but instead is met with the boys mostly blue eyes staring into hers. They’re filled with fear, even the little brown section in his right eye looks terrified.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispers, but nothing comes out. She turns to leave but a cold hand reaches out and grabs her wrist. She turns around, her son has sat up onto his greyscale duvet. He lets go of her wrist and stands, wrapping his arms around her all in one swift motion. Cynthia pauses, not knowing how to react for a moment, before she wraps her arms around her son, a hand comfortingly petting his messy brown curls.

“I-I’m s-sor-ry, Mom.” He feels so small and frail in Cynthia’s arms.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay.” She decides then that that night she would go to Larry about getting Connor help, about helping her son fight his battles.

They never ended up helping Connor fight his battles. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay. He never got to be okay.

/And the battle he fought, he just couldn’t win/

BOOFRP DOES A MASTERLIST OF;; Children FC's with GIF hunts

This masterlist was requested by a lovely Anon. In order to do this masterlist, I took to Google and found the gem that is child-actor-gifs. And with that, I was able to do a masterlist of child FC’s with their ages, GIF hunts and what hair and eye colour they have. Also, this masterlist is in alphabetical order, so i hope that helps. Under the cut are 290 different children FC’s, sorted between boys and girls. Like/Reblog if this helps! 

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Life Doesn't Wait

I’m tired

I’m so tired.

not from a lack of sleep

but from a sheer amount of disbelief

from seeing this watercolor world we live in slowly turning a light shade of tin

smiles fading to frowns

ups turning to downs

some of us have lost our spark

lost our drive,

lost our heart,

and frankly, I’m tired of it

I’m exhausted by the sight,

of lives lacking a certain light

when each and every one of us deserve that right.

Now do me a favor and lend me your ears, keep your eyes peeled,

place them here.

poetry and fancy word play, on hold

here’s a meaningful story, I’ve never told

You see a couple of weeks ago,

a day like any other,

I was heading to meet up with some friends for lunch.

and for some reason

I truly couldn’t be bothered with tackling the mess that is Los Angeles parking,

so, I called myself a taxi.

you see, I’m the type of person who likes to make conversation with pretty much anyone and everyone.

whether it’s an old lady at a bus stop

or a barista at a coffee shop.

people are people, and they all have something to say.

After a few introduction sentences

me and this 30-something year old gentleman realized we’re both creative types, originally from the mid-west, out here in Los Angeles, pursuing our many artsy endeavors.

We continued conversing but quickly things got a little bit deeper.

He asked me,

“was your family okay with you moving out to a bigger city and chasing such an alternative career type?”

“definitely,” I said

“they’re just happy I’m happy and doing something I love, everyday.”

He continued by saying,

“good. that’s really good you’re doing something you’re passionate about.

A lot of people nowadays can’t seem to say that.”

He hesitated slightly but then continued,

“You know, my dad and brother worked night and day for practically their entire lives, receiving little pay for doing something they didn’t enjoy at all.

They both always talked about how,

“It’ll be all worth it one day, we can spend our hard-earned money later on! we will live a good life eventually.”

but you know what?

neither of them got that.

My dad died unexpectedly 4 years ago, and my brother just last year.

They’ll never get to live the life they always wanted to.

So its honestly very nice to see people following their heart and living their life now,

rather than later.”

and at that point, he dropped me off.

After only a 10-minute car ride,

I left with a new perspective in my mind

Life waits for no one.

If yours isn’t going the way you want it to

if you aren’t pursuing what you want to pursue

if you wake up with immediate dread,

constantly saddened by the hours ahead

moving through the days feeling lost,

heart in a haze

holding back what you wanna say,

waiting to be yourself,

another day

all your dreams and desires put on hold

to be fulfilled, maybe when you’re old

you aren’t doing it right

you aren’t living your life

eventually is not okay

why tomorrow

when there is today

I finally feel like I’m finding my way,

and not just living day by day.

I’m doing what I love,

I’m going where I wanna go

I’m being who I want to be,

I’m happy.

And you know what?

I think everyone deserves to feel the same way.

-C.F

CITY OF ASHES FANCAST: MAX LIGHTWOOD

Okay, how do we start with Max? Without crying, maybe?

THIS WAS HARD! I mean, I went from Troye Sivan to Chandler Canterbury. And all of them are 15+… it’s almost impossible to find an appropriate Max!

But, I’ve done my homework… here are two kids (twins!) that, those familiar with Broadwalk Empire can recognize easily…

Connor & Brady Noon!

They’re so cute… and talented. And don’t they resemble Kevin and Jemima a little bit? It’s awesome…

Let me hear your thoughts, people!

One More Night (Part 2)

Part 1

The next day, Connor woke up after noon in his own bed, with a pounding head and a dry mouth. He sat up slowly and groaned. The pounding got worse when he moved. He rubbed his eyes lazily and details from the previous night started to come back to him.

After Jude had walked out and left him laying on the bed, he stayed there for a minute staring at a dark ceiling. Then, we he was sure Jude had left the party, he got up and wandered back down stairs. He saw a group of dance team girls talking in the corner and went up to them, then immediately started flirting with them all. A half hour later, he was back in the same bedroom, hooking up with one of the girls. After that, he stumbled his way home and into his bed.

Connor pulled himself up out of bed and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand. No new messages. Not that he thought Jude would want to talk to him after last night, but he was still hoping.

He pulled on a pair of jeans that were laying on the floor and threw on a t-shirt pulled from the top of his hamper, then made his way downstairs.

He walked into the kitchen and saw his dad sitting at the table.

“Morning kid,” Adam said, glancing up at his son. “How was the party last night?”

Connor walked to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle.

“It was fine. Same as always.”

“Do you want some lunch? Or breakfast, I guess.”

“No thanks, I’m fine.” Connor paused for a minute and took a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Um, dad, I think I’m gonna go over to Jude’s.”

Adam sighed. “I still don’t understand why you hang out with that kid.”

“Because he’s my best friend. Besides, I’m 16 so you can’t exactly tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.”

“Fine. Just call and let me know if you’ll be here for dinner or not.”

Connor smiled and headed towards the front door, grabbing his car keys from a table by the stairs.

He went outside and climbed into the driver’s seat of the car and set off. The car had been a gift from his dad, after a winning soccer season. Around 14, Connor figured out that his dad would give him pretty much anything if he played sports. So Connor was fine with being a jock if it meant he got the newest phones and a car and, most importantly, he got to spend time with Jude.

On the drive between his house and Jude’s, his best friend’s face was all he could see. He saw Jude’s eyes and the way they crinkle and light up when he smiles and his lips that sent shock waves throughout Connor’s body when they touched his own. No matter what girl he made out with or hooked up with, none of them ever made him feel like Jude did.

He pulled into the Adams Foster driveway, got out of the car, and walked up to the front door, knocking a few times when he got there. After a minute, Lena opened the door.

“Oh, hey Connor!”

“Hey Lena. Is Jude here?”

“He is. Do you wanna come in?”

Connor nodded and walked past Lena into the entryway of the house.

Lena shut the door behind Connor and said, “He came down for breakfast, then went back into his room. I think he might be asleep again, but you can go wake him up if you want.”

Connor smiled at her then ran up the stairs and straight into Jude’s room. When he swung the door open, he saw that Lena’s suspicions were right. Jude was curled in a ball on his bed, sound asleep.

Connor walked over to the bed and stood next to it for a minute, looking down at a sleeping Jude. He had one arm hanging off the bed and his sheet was twisted around his legs. Connor remembered that Jude never was a calm sleeper from their sleepovers. Jude’s mouth was hanging open as well. Connor smiled. Even asleep, Jude still looked amazing to him.

He reached a hand down and put it on Jude’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

Jude jumped awake and sat up slowly. It took him a minute to register his surroundings and when he did, his eyes landed on Connor and he frowned.

“Connor, what are you doing here?”

“Can we just talk, please?”

Jude got out of the bed and walked past Connor to his dresser without even looking at him and pulled a t-shirt over his head. Connor couldn’t help but let his eyes linger for a minute on the boy’s bare torso before the shirt covered it.

Jude sighed, still facing the dresser, then turned towards Connor.

“I said everything I needed to last night.”

“Jude…”

Jude walked back over to his bed and sat down and Connor stayed next to the bed looking down at him.

“Okay fine. Say what you need to say. It might not make a difference, but I’ll listen.”

Connor sighed and sat down in the chair against the wall, looking at Jude.

“I’m just scared, okay? I’m scared to be… to do what I want to when I’m sober.”

Jude frowned and shook his head. “That’s a cop-out. I’ve spent most of my life scared, and I never had to get wasted to deal with it.”

“Well, you’re just stronger than me, I guess!”

“No. That’s not fair. You’re just being a coward. How do you feel, Connor? No dancing around it or half answers. How do you feel about me? Just be honest, for once!”

Connor leaned his elbows on his knees and looked down at his hands. He played with his nails and his fingers for a minute, not being able to look at Jude.

Finally, after what felt like forever of Jude staring at Connor and Connor staring at the ground, Connor mumbled, “I like you, Jude.”

“What was that?” Jude raised an eyebrow.

Connor looked up at Jude’s face. “I like you, okay! I think I’ve always liked you. But I can’t. I can’t be…”

“What? Gay? Like me?”

“Jude, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just… my dad would hate me. The team wouldn’t shut up about it. Everyone at school would make fun of me.”

“Like they made fun of me?”

“Jude…”

“No, Connor, I get it. This isn’t about your dad or the guys on the team or people at school. This is about you hating who you are so much that you won’t let yourself be happy. You can’t stand the thought that you’re gay. That’s why you get drunk every weekend. So you can escape your brain and stop screaming at yourself for a night.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He just looked down again. Jude was right. They both knew he was. Connor’s dad had said so many homophobic things his whole life, that he had internalized them without even realizing. And the thought that he might be gay made him hate himself.

Jude shook his head and walked over to the door.

“Can you just leave now?”

Connor nodded slowly, then stood up and walked out without even looking at Jude again.

Imagine Troye staying with Connor on his visits to LA, and Connor gets so used to it that when it’s time for Troye to go back, he doesn’t know how to deal with never seeing Troye in person again until a couple of weeks or even months. Connor doesn’t tell Troye about any of it though because he understands that Troye wants to go back to his family and how he must be homesick so when Troye’s about to board the airplane, Connor just smiles and waves until Troye’s no longer visible. Then he lets his facade go, and everybody around him knows. Everybody knows how important the tall, skinny, blue-eyed boy was to this shorter, brown-haired, green-eyed boy with the teary eyes and sad smile on his face, how could anyone not? Then Connor would leave the airport and spend the rest of the week accidentally indirecting about how much he misses Troye that Troye skyped him at the end of the week at noon. Connor was confused because didn’t that mean it was three in the morning or something around that time over at Australia? Connor answered and was greeted with:

“You idiot. Next time say something about how you don’t want me to leave. I’m sure my family would have understood me staying in LA until Christmas or something.”