#tried to use the idea of her name actually being Kahani to separate her dream self from her real self dunno if it worked tho

[conn-verse]

hi i wrote some connverse hurt/comfort where connie thinks steven is just a character and a story she made up because she’s lonely but then it gets soft and the beginning kinda sucks and i didnt edit it but yknow it’s under the cut enjoy

12-year-old Kahani Maheswaran stepped through the front door into her condominium home in Beach City, Delmarva. She was still settling into the new home, even though they’d moved in 9 months ago. She was returning home from her first day of 7th grade, where she was the only new kid, and everybody else already had friends. That was a feeling she’d gotten used to. 

The school year went on, and she would sooner call her teachers her friends than her actual peers. Her English teacher, Ms. Oliver, often encouraged her to make some friends — something she wished was as easy to do as it was to say.

13-year-old Kahani was lucky enough to stay in Beach City another year. Nowhere ever felt like home to her, but Beach City was friendly and quiet. Peaceful. She spent plenty of time on the beach, reading, writing, doing homework, whatever. The sunset was always beautiful. Though she may have been an introvert, she always wished she had someone to share her time with. She loved her parents, but both of their jobs kept them busy almost constantly. She wanted a friend.

Maybe she could make one up?

But no, that’s not healthy. Is it? After a little research, she concluded that it could actually be pretty helpful. So she sat down and started writing. 

She spent the summer before high school writing and writing. The main character of her story wasn’t her — she’d never felt like a main character, and wasn’t sure she wanted to be one. Instead, it was a short and chubby boy, two years older than her, with the biggest, kindest heart you could imagine. She called this character Steven, Steven Universe. Connie imagined magical alien beings whose life force came from gemstones, who were bent on conquering Earth and destroying its life for their empire. 

The boy was unique; he was the first hybrid of a human and what he called “gems.” He’d inherited the identity of his mother, Rose Quartz, a fearless rebel, but one who was secretly rebelling against her own royal family. He would have to answer for her crimes, to prove her wasn’t her, to survive the wrath of those who blamed him for the loss of his mother. But every step of the way, Connie was there to support him. He brought her out of her shell, gave her someone to confide in, he convinced his guardian, Pearl, to teach her how to sword-fight. She felt alive. 

But that was just the story she’d made up. Connie resembled her in many ways, but at the end of the day, she was still just boring, lonely Kahani. 

Throughout the following years, she’d return to her story, inventing incredible new concepts and characters, all while keeping herself as a side character. Pretending to have a friend felt wonderful, even if it meant she distanced herself from potential real friends. Even if she wasn’t writing her story, she was thinking about it. 

One summer, she went to Space Camp. She wondered what’d happen if Connie did the same, and if Earth was in danger again while she was away. She created a new character: Spinel, a gem who had been abandoned by Steven’s mother and sought revenge. 

She went to cram school, and met Daniel and Patricia, her first real friends. But she still wanted an adventure. So, she went back to her story.

Kahani wrote another adventure for Steven and Connie. This time, it was more emotional — more personal. She’d never understood how heroes in fiction could go through so much and come out seemingly normal, so, she projected onto Steven. Kahani felt lost, alone, like everything was against her when media taught her she should be having the time of her life. 

One morning, she woke up. Or, she thought it was morning. It felt like it should be morning. She picked up her phone and tapped the power button. The screen told her it was about 3 in the afternoon. However, it revealed something much more shocking: a text message from someone she apparently knew called Steven, who had a heart next to his name. The message read “call or text if you need anything,” and that message had a heart at the end, too. 

Her stomach dropped. “Mom?” She called. “Dad?”

Her mother entered her room, looking even more tired than usual. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I… I’m fine. Why? Did something happen? 

“You fell on the boardwalk and hit your head rather hard. Steven healed the wound as soon as he could, but I don’t think even his magic can heal brain damage. You probably have a concussion, Connie. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Connie took a moment to think. Slowly, she put the clues together in her mind, and her heart pounded as she asked her mom, “Where’s Steven?”

“I’ll go get him.” Her mother smiled gently and left the room. 

Connie sat up and turned her phone back on. She stared at the contact in her phone who had the name “Steven.” His picture even resembled the character she’d seen in her mind, and to a striking degree. But that couldn’t be real. She had to still be dreaming. Steven wasn’t real, she’d made him up. He wasn’t real. He—

“Hey, can I come in?”

He was standing in her doorway. Connie’s heart pounded like a tsunami crashing onto the shore. She nodded, staring the figure down as it entered her room and sat on her bed. He smiled warmly at her, slowly reaching her hand, as if to ask if he could hold it. Connie found herself reaching back. Their hands connected and their fingers tangled together, and Connie stared at their laced fingers, his large and pale, hers thin and dark. Suddenly, she remembered it all. The gems, Pink Diamond, Homeworld, fusion, fighting — everything. Not just from her story, but from her waking life. A few tears dripped down her face. She looked up at Steven and met his gaze. 

“Connie? What’s wrong?” He said, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. 

She sobbed pathetically, unfolding her arms and wrapping them around Steven. She cried into his shoulder, holding him tighter than she’d ever dared to. 

“Stars,” she choked. “I… I thought…”

“It’s okay,” he said, in that deep but soft voice she never, ever wanted to forget again. His hand danced its way through her hair. “Take your time.”

Connie took a deep breath, both to regulate her breathing and to breathe in Steven, making sure it was all still real. 

“I dreamt that you weren’t real. That everything since I met you was a story I made up because I was lonely. But…” She pulled back, looking into his eyes again. She tousled his hair, and he smiled. She giggled. “You’re real!” 

“Yeah, I’m real.” He said. They leaned their foreheads against each other, holding each other close. 

“Don’t worry, Connie,” Steven said. “I’m here.”