#i havent written anything in over a year so im a little rusty

[badboyburger]

The room stays dark, always. That's one of his rules. During the day, the blinds stay closed. If I behave, I can see the stars at night. Twinkling eyes on black silk, I watch them blink and move across. They watch me just as I watch them. Sometimes I imagine my hands pressed against their surface. I've been told they're warm, too warm, but the nights are cold, and so I don't believe them. He says the stars feel like cold metal.

I believe him.

Today, I am not inside. It's a special occasion. I get to be useful. I get to make him proud.

No one was ever proud of me, before him. I did my best, really. I excelled at my studies, and it didn't matter. I made friends, and they all left too early. Sports or music, art or science, nothing fulfilled, never enough. Desperation drove me further. Do you see the cuts on my skin? Are you proud of me now? If I stop flinching, will you love me then? My arms carried stitches of my own creation. Never inconvenience. Never tell.

He gives me a purpose. He is all that matters.

My hands hold a shovel, and I can smell the stars. My service always smells like stars. I excell at it.

I had no worth, without him. Hours spent on fruitless indulgences. Clouded mind, thoughts held prisoner, itching and yearning to not feel any of it, sinking, sinking. Those days lay far back. He doesn't allow me to go under again. I shall rise, he says. My mind is beautiful, he says.

I didn't believe him, until I did.

I am rising.

There's dirt on my hands. I cannot help but smile. He will be satisfied, and he will praise me. I continue my work. I will earn his praise, will make sure I deserve it.

He was the first to praise me. The first to recognize all my hard work. He saw the cuts, and the bones drawing sharp lines under my skin. What a good job you're doing, he told me. You must have impeccable self control, he told me. I skipped meals for days to impress him. His smile made me want to do it until I died. He forbade me. Gave me different tasks. More fulfilling, more deserving of praise. His approval is the only drug ravaging my body these days.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

It's heavy. Difficult to lift and lay in its' destined spot. I manage it, because he will call me a good boy later if I do. I love it when he does. He usually strokes my hair when he says it. I relish in his touch.

He was the first to touch me. No one else ever wanted to. He combs my hair and strokes my back. His kiss is sweeter than midsummers honey. The happiest place amongst the stars is his lap, his arms around me, holding tight. He says he'll never let me go.

I know it to be true.

The ground is almost flat again, the pile of earth diminished. I am careful to place the pieces back in their positions. He will be very satisfied. He will tell me how thorough I am, how well I've done. He will call me by my name. I love it when he says my name. After all, he was the one who gave it to me.

It is a perfect name.

My old one could never compete.

He will be here soon. My heart swells, and my  grin widens. He is happiness.

Though sometimes, he is unhappy with me. I never know why. It tears me apart, makes me throw myself against the walls and rip at my skin. Sometimes, I miss him for days. No word of praise or pride, no touch. Today, I will be on my best behaviour. Today, he will be proud. Today.

Anticipation makes my body convulse. I force myself to stand upright, feet a shoulders width apart, hands behind my back. I raise my head. I am motionless. He calls me his little soldier when I stand like this. The thought alone makes me melt.

His arrival feels like the heavens opening up before me. I fall into him. He catches me. He is proud of me, today. I am worthy, he says. I did an excellent job, he says. I eat his words up like a starving dog would a rabbit. He leaves, and takes me with him. Today, I am worthy. Today, I behaved.

I am back in my room. The sun will be rising soon, and the blinds will close. I lick my fingers. They taste like the stars.

#writing #fiction #does this qualify as horror? #eh maybe #horror fiction #creative writing #mental abuse #would love to know if anyone gets the meaning of the last sentenec #i havent written anything in over a year so im a little rusty #eating disorder mention #self harm mention

[mycandylovefanatics]

Blueberry Pancakes

(A very short Lysander blurb I’ve had on my mind for a while.)

(So glad to be back oh gosh! in this story the farm and the house looks just a tad different, ive always imagined sitting on the porch with lysander having coffee or tea so im indulging in my own little thoughts here lol i havent written anything in like years at this point so forgive me for any typos, forgive my rustiness and forgive me if you just dont enjoy the story lololol)

Living on the farm was a drastic change, but it was a change that you welcomed with open arms. The stark contrast of waking up to the sounds of birds singing versus the aggravating honking of cars, people yelling down the halls of your dorm. There was something different about the air there, something that wrapped you up in a blanket of peace and warmth, even if it was currently a bit chilly at the moment. 

You sat outside on the front porch, hands tightly gripping the mug of coffee in your hands to absorb as much of its warmth as possible. The mug was probably a bit too hot to be holding that way, but the cold in the air balanced it out. It was about six o’clock in the morning now, you had gotten used to waking up earlier and earlier due to Lysander’s routine. At first you didn’t hesitate to fall back into the mattress, going back to sleep within seconds but slowly you had come to enjoy getting an earlier start to your day. It wasn’t a daily occurrence that you were up before him though.

It was the middle of Spring, so while the weather was nice during the day, the mornings were still a crisp cold until the sun would come up. But it wasn’t a bad cold, in fact it was actually pleasant the way the morning breeze brushed your skin. You took a deep breath and sipped your coffee, whatever leftover drowsiness you had slowly faded away along with it. You leaned against the wooden railing and got a bit lost in thought, not hearing the door open softly behind you.

“Good morning lovely,” Lysander spoke up, startling you a bit but it made you giggle. You never understood how he managed to be so light on his feet. He tiredly rubbed his eyes and stretched before walking over to you. 

“Good morning to you too, did you sleep well?” You looked up at him as he stood beside you and kissed your forehead, moving your hair out of your face as he did so.

“I always sleep well with you,” he smiled, and it made you blush. He had his own mug in his hand as well too, whoever made coffee in the mornings always brewed enough for the other to have some waiting for them whenever they made it out of bed. It was an unspoken thing between you both, and always filled your hearts with warmth at the small but loving gesture.

Lysander stared into the distance, watching the sun begin to creep up along the horizon. It’s golden rays spilling over and landing perfectly on his face. His eyes always seemed more intense in the sunlight, especially his golden one. He was undeniably handsome whether he knew it or not, and you couldn’t believe he was yours. Of course, he could say the same and more about you and would not hesitate to let you know.

“Sunrises must have been made just for you, my love.” 

You’re suddenly very aware of the way he’s looking at you, complete adoration in his eyes. From his point of view, the sun was creating a golden aura around your frame, making you seem almost unreal, almost heavenly. It was a bit cliche how the wind started blowing just at that moment and he swore he fell in love with you every day. The way his eyes seemed to bore into your soul always made you a bit nervous, in a good way. “You always look breathtaking this time of the day,” he tilts your chin up and kisses you, his lips soft and his touch gentle as always. 

Your face is no doubt heating up at this point, but you have no shame in that. “You’re a true womanizer, you know that Lys?” you joke with him. He cocks his eyebrow up at that, a small smirk forming on his face and he shakes his head at your little joke. “I highly doubt that.”

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his side, both of you continuing to watch the sun come up. 

You had been living with him for a little over a year at this point and even still, you never got tired of times like these. In fact, you weren’t tired of any of it. Waking up next to him, brushing your teeth together, cooking and eating breakfast together. The domesticity of it all had you feeling warm inside. You leaned into his chest and wrapped your arms around his middle, taking a deep breath and his scent filled your nostrils. You both stayed like that for a while, him occasionally stroking your arm or hair, and you rubbing his back. Before you knew it, the sun had fully risen and you were ready to start your day until-

“gerrrrrghhhhhhle”

You jumped at the loudness of your stomach, both of you laughing at that. “I guess I forgot about breakfast, you hungry?”

He didn’t have to answer, because right at that moment his stomach also growled, a little louder than yours, and you both burst into laughter at that. 

“I guess we have our answer then,” you giggle. He nods in agreement and lets you lead him back into the house by his hand. “Come on, I’ll make you your favorite?” you offer.

“Blueberry pancakes?”

You nod.

He perks up at this, fully awake now that you’ve promised him a treat. “Absolutely. Lead the way, love.”

Making your breakfast is quick, not having to do much except make the batter and flip the cakes. It goes by even quicker with Lysander by your side handing you the ingredients you need as you go, and before you know it you’re sitting at the table with him ready to gobble down. 

You’d never doubted it to begin with, but the content smile he has on his face as he takes a bite of his pancake reaffirms that you wouldn’t trade this life with him for the world. 

Coincidentally enough, he’s thinking the same thing, appreciating the simplicity of it all. Being with you is the easiest thing he’s ever done. Nothing has ever felt so natural to him, and the simple act of eating breakfast with you makes his heart feel full. He watches you cut into your pancake, and he wants this feeling everyday for the rest of his life. 

Thinking about the small, square box he has hidden upstairs in your shared bedroom, right under your nose, he’s never been more sure of his decision than this moment.

#mcl lysander #lysander ainsworth #Lysander #Lysander Headcanons #mclul lysander #mycandylove #mycandylove oneshot #mclboys #MCL #my candy love #alternate life lysander

[daegall]

The feelings that brew

pairing: slytherin!hyuck x reader

genre: slight bff2l!AU, fluff, crack, hogwarts!AU

warnings: uhh poor descriptions of hogwarts im not too good at describing it lmao

word count: 700 words

a/n: for @kflixnet 's childhood memories event!! chose a hogwarts!AU bc literally all my life was full of harry potter

back after a hot moment how are we feeling? my writing might feel a bit rusty, and trust me i can physically feel it as i type </3 i havent written in like. 2 weeks so pls bare with me ^^

networks/taglist: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @ficscafe @kflixnet @k-radio @nct-writers + @soobin-chois @treasuretaeil

Potions class was always your least favorite. Although it was the pride of your house, you really can't find the fun in it.

And it seems like your best friend feels the same way, staring dully at his cauldron with a very unimpressed expression. There's something wrong about his potion, you know this, you know by the way he groans for the fifth time, and the smoke that emits from the cauldron.

Your potion was very wrong as well, actually. It had the exact same look and affect.

"Potions sucks." Donghyuck sighs, slumping his head onto the desk. You can see Huang Renjun at the corner of your eye glare at Donghyuck at the disruptiveness he causes, and you ought to laugh.

"I know it does, that's like the eight time you've said it."

"It's the eighth time I've messed the potion up! What are we even trying to make?"

Actually, now that you think of it, you really don't know. You've simply been following instructions from Professor Snape and paying attention to... well, nothing.

You look into your book, and find the potion on page 59. "Wow," You muse, shoulders shaking with light laughter. "we're supposed to be making amortentia."

Donghyuck springs up at this, suddenly interested, "Oh, cool! I want to smell the things I like!"

"What do you think you'd smell?"

Donghyuck turns to face you with a rather flirtatious smile, winking at your direction. "You, probably."

Your heart jumps at his statement. There was something about him lately, that made you feel some type of way. You don't like it. Not one bit. It has your cheeks heating and your stomach twisting and everthing.

Alas, you try to cover it up, reaching up to tug at a few strands of his hair. "Yeah, like I'd smell you?"

Before Donghyuck can make another witty and flirty response, professor Snape calls out to all the students, claiming that Hwang Yeji had made the perfect amortentia potion, much to your delight.

The whole class rushes to flock around the prefect's caldron, while you are stuck outside to inspect it a little later. You're not that interested in potions, after all.

However, you would like to congratulate Yeji, all because you know she loves the praise. You and Donghyuck lean in to get a good look at it, trying to feel what it's like to have an actual good potion.

"Nice work, Yeji—"

Suddenly, you get a waft of the amortentia, all the different scents leaving you dazed, almost dizzy. Smells like Pine, grass, was that... chocolate?

But wait a minute... that smells just like—

With one glance at your best friend you know he recognizes his scents as well. There's no way you two actually smell each other.

You don't talk to each other. At least, not until the day's over and you're both sitting in your common room. You frankly don't want to say anything.

But holy shit, does Donghyuck look incredibly soft and almost adorable in his sweater. You haven't seen him so nervous since first year, when he was getting assigned to his house.

You two glace at each other only ever so frequently, shy and nervous.

God, why did you smell Donghyuck?!

You gather up the last of your courage to open your mouth, but you still don't find enough for you to turn to him or say anything.

"So—"

"I—"

Alarmed, the both of you turn to each other, before the awkward tension around you two cracks with laughter.

As you lean forward and laugh, you get another waft of his scent. It's exactly what you smelled in Yeji's potion. And no doubt Donghyuck smells you too, because he backs up as soon as he does, eyes wide in surprise.

"Did you smell me?"

"...Yeah. Did you?"

"Yeah."

You don't do anything but stare at each other, almost fondly, and a light smile curls at your lips. You two don't say anything, at least not when Donghyuck reaches over to grab you into an embrace, and not when you two fall asleep on the couch right then and there. You don't need to say anything to know what's gonna happen next.

#lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #neoturtles #knet bakery #kflixnet #ficscafe #neozonenet #nct-writers #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck angst #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck drabbles #lee donghyuck blurbs #haechan #haechan imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

[bonesofapoet]

We Are Unsung Hymns

[jason todd x you]

author’s note: me: im only writing requests this year! also me: what if i explored the more Intense and Darker Themes of being with an anti-hero, especially when they kinda disappear, then show up half dead for the 32nd time? me again: so what im actually saying is due to Recent Events i am once again, projecting onto jason peter todd

p.s. dont judge me for the out of context Shelley quotes + this is a little rusty, i havent written in a hot second. tw blood + injury, alcohol, adult language, loneliness.

word count: 1678 (WOW)

Silence, to you, meant many things.

It was the soft hours of dawn, honey golden light streaming through curtained windows. It was the hush in your soul after a day so divine it felt more like a dream than anything else. Silence was the eye of a hurricane, the calm before the storm.

Sometimes, it was sinister. Silence meant unknown things seeping into hairline cracks left unguarded when things had been going good, going smooth, going so well you forgot life could be anything else, forgot that surprises still existed.

A day of silence had melted seamlessly into two, then drew slowly into four, even five. It had grown harder to keep your mind from straying, to keep yourself focused on the world in front of you and the people beside you. It was easier during the day as most things seemed to be, but, well.

Things were always fine, until they weren’t fine at all.

An arm of the couch, a corner chair. The windowsill cleared of clutter for seamless exits and entries under the cover of night – they all became prime places for dreaming and thinking, for worrying and waiting. For wondering if you were even allowed to be this worried, this affected, because it wasn’t like you and Jason Todd were technically dating, after all.

It was like being suspended in a sort of limbo, a liminal space; floating at a fixed point in space and time where you danced around whatever it was that had grown and blossomed so beautifully between the two of you.

Also known as: a purgatory, of sorts.

So you scrolled through old messages, camera rolls, curled up in the windowsill with a blanket and city lights for company, with city life for a soundtrack. This all dispelled the tension, the sporadic bouts of cracked composure; reliving memories that reminded you of his warmth, of his smile, focused on the ones that surrounded you with comfort. He would come home because he always came home, in one way or another – a little rumpled and tired, or a canvas stained with his journey.

You crawled into bed, grazed fingertips feather-light across his pillow, then dreamed.

Of course Jason was fine. Probably.

-

A few days later, you had become familiar with this feeling, you realized. Adjusting, finally, to all of this from the past, the present. This was your life now, and patience was a virtue. Resilience had to become one too.

Life went on.

And then you received a message, phone vibrating while out on an errand. Twilight was fast approaching, and you tried to race against the heavenly hues as they melted into deep peony pink, bled into bruised violet, became that deep navy blue always mistaken for midnight black.

Night was unpredictable, after all, and this one was no different.

{ Tuesday, 5:36 pm. From: Roy Harper

Coming in hot }

“Oh,” you said, startled. Your feet stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, crowded and loud – then suddenly, abrasively silent – but you began to move again, when your mind remembered what, exactly, that phrase meant. “Oh.”

You were home in record time. Everything happened fast, after that.

The first aid kit was in your hands within seconds, contents already finding their way onto a table, hands acted on muscle memory as they pulled a bottle of liquor, half full, from the cabinet as your front door flew open, ricocheted off the wall.

You didn’t even flinch.

“In here!”

Heavy, shuffled footsteps followed your voice. Roy and Kory hauled Jason onto the cleared space, and you didn’t bat an eye at that either.

His gear was off already, the clothes worn underneath already stained deeper, darker, saturated in places. His white streak wasn’t so white anymore, either. The harsh overhead light hid no details, and you wished this sort of scene still made you cringe, still made your breath catch and your brow crease in worry.

No one ever thought about what changed within you, when the life you crafted was suddenly full of superheroes and vigilantes. It’s never just learning how to stitch, how to help clean fancy bulletproof kevlar, or your rugs by extension. No, some changes ran too deep for anyone to see them, except for you, in moments like these.

Jason’s eyelids fluttered open, closed, rinse, repeat. He groaned, swore brutally when you began to clean up his wounds; you had learned a thing or two by this point, and this was nothing you had not handled before. Kory and Roy held him down while you worked, while you stitched and cleaned and bandaged.

Your routine was a well oiled machine. Everything slowed down after that.

“So this is what it takes for you to answer my messages,” you said, voice loud in the fresh silence, tone caught between a soothing murmur and a sardonic dig. “Just get yourself mortally wounded, avoid all that ‘don’t worry, I’m alive,’ small talk.”

Jason swats away his Outlaws, breathed a cuss as he pushed himself unsteadily upright. He tells them to wait in the jet, and they listened only after you shrugged your indifference.

“Mortally wounded. I thought you just saved my life,” he tried to joke, but this time it didn’t quite land. Not with his voice so rough and his blood on your floor.

“Take what you need on your way out,” you offered to his friends (yours too, now, you supposed). A balm in contrast to Jason’s demand.

You shared a look with Roy and Kory before they shut the door behind them.

“Rarely a dull moment.” Jason continued, more to himself than to you. He picked up the bottle of liquor within arms reach. The cap screwed off easy and he took a drink, then another while you hid the bloody dressing in the trash.

You swore you felt every emotion under the sun in the next seconds that passed. You were careful not to overwhelm either of you with any of them.

“Why didn’t you go to the Manor? You know Alfred does a better job than I do.” your fingers grabbed the bottle cap, played with it while your heartbeat rose and rose and rose. Jason probably heard it from across the room.

You knew the answer of course, at least the one he always told you.

He was quiet this time, though. Tired eyes left yours in favor of looking out the window, curtains still wide open to the prying eyes of nightfall. He went over to close them. “You never told me, but you were worried.”

It was a small truth; he had grown to trust you with those.

You wanted to smile, but you pulled a glass down from the cabinet, filled it with water and took it to Jason instead. Tugged the bottle gently out of his hand, replaced it with the glass.

He huffed a laugh, breath hitching when the movement pulled at stitches. Jason shifted his attention back to the city beyond, peeking behind the curtain every so often. His indifference to the last twenty minutes, the last two weeks-

You ventured out, turned the words over in your mind as you spoke them. “I don’t want to ruin your dramatic return.”

“But?”

“Being temporarily ghosted gives a person time to think.”

His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes bright. “Does it?”

“Jay.” you had grown careful with your words, with their delivery, but they always said fortune favored the bold. “I know you’re not my knight in shining armor -”

Jason snorts, took a drink. You were half tempted to push him out the window.

“- and I’m the farthest thing from royalty locked in a tower,” he kept his eyes to the streets, but yours could never leave him again. They didn’t want to, now that he was here in front of you, acting as if he never left. “But it feels . . . it feels like we’re in a fairy tale, sometimes, you know? And then I don’t hear from you for weeks, or you come home with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, and I can’t help but wonder, ‘What the actual hell am I doing?”

Jason looked at you then, expression closing off, bright blues steeled. “What are you doing?”

You don’t know, and you tell him that too.

But you were still here, and you hadn’t told him to leave. He knew that, and you could see him begin to remember, see him begin to let the tension ease up just enough to be casual.

He said nothing before he stole the breath from your lungs, just like he always does.

“’Death and love are yet contending for their prey.’” he quotes, and you allow yourself that small smile then, moving close enough to touch him, for him to touch you.

You wondered how long it would take, for him to start quoting a poet. Little did he know, you spent enough of his time away reading his favorites to feel closer to your anti-hero, and, well. At long last, two could play that game.

“’Though storms may break the primrose on it’s stalk, though frosts may blight the freshness of it’s bloom, yet spring’s awakening breath will woo the earth, to feed with kindliest dews it’s favorite flower, that blooms in mossy banks and darksome glens, lighting the green wood with it’s sunny smile.’”

Jason’s grip on the glass tightened; he had to look away, because – what the fuck.

Shelley always had a way with words, but hearing them spoken in your voice, so raw and practiced with that glint in your eye -

Oh.

The expression he wore now – it was the most real, the most wholeheartedly Jason, you had ever seen. He cleared his throat. “That’s not even the same poem.”

A quiet laugh fell obnoxious and graceless through your lips, and you couldn’t stop it.

“I’ll work on that one next time you leave me.”

Jason Todd pulled you into his arms then, hid his smile in your shoulder as you held him tight, and held him close.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd x you #batfam imagine #kas writes #batboy imagine

[adultswinmoved-archive]

i havent written anything in well over a year, so im sorry im really rusty, but heres a quick originalshipping drabble i finished last night! 

preview:

“... Green.”

“Green, hey!”

A sleepy groan, and Red's hand was shoved away. Green didn't even open his eyes.

“What is it, Red?”

“I can't sleep.”

“I can, so let me.”

Red had expected Green to be cranky. He was prepared for it.

“C’mon,” he nudged Green's exposed shoulder, “we can just talk. Or something.”

Green shrugged the touch away, “Let me sleep, Red.”

Red felt bad. Of course he did. Green suffered from insomnia, so a full night's rest was rare for him. It's not that Red wanted to keep him from sleeping; he was just… bored. And a little lonely. There wasn't much to do alone in the middle of the night. He had already tried waking Pika too, but the electric mouse wasn't having it… At least Green doesn't bite.

#pokespe #originalshipping #im a little nervous #bc i havent written in forever #red writes

[hungry-weirdartist]

That Time That Being In A Carnival Resulted In A Date:A Dear Evan Hansen Fanfiction

He didn’t know why  he was there.

All he remembered was a teacher coming up to him,asking for help with booths at the school carnival and because he just can’t say no,he nodded like an idiot.

        The school carnival was an event that was conducted every year to raise funds that the school always seemed to need.This year,it was raising funds for the clubs of the school.The theater kids were putting on a play,the cooking club was selling food and the art club was,well, everywhere.Evan’s club though,the gardening club,had a booth that sold tree and plant stuff the art club had made.

          Since Evan was the only one who couldn’t say no to the teacher,he was the one who manned the booth.So one bright Sunday morning,he got up, greeted his mom goodbye and set out for the school.

          The first couple minutes there were used to brief him.Get money,give the item,answer any questions and give a pamphlet with every purchase.Simple enough.It was an easy enough job.His booth wasn’t the most visited but it did have the occasional person walk by.

          Around the fourth hour,(out of eight,god,he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into),a teen about his age sauntered over his booth.He had a black hoodie on and looked like he desperately wanted to be anywhere else but here.He looked at the plant-themed  things spread out on the table and took one of them.He took of his hood and -

Oh.

He knew that face.

That was Connor Murphy.

             In his school,Connor was a loner.He had outbursts,every so often and Evan had been at the most recent one.He was pushed down,but Connor apologized.He had almost seen one of Evan’s letters to himself,but Evan stopped that from happening.

 “How much is this?”Connor asked.

“F-four dollars.”Evan stammered.

            Connor handed over the money,and as Evan looked at the money box for change,he pointed at one of the keychains that was shaped like a tree and remarked.”Nice oak tree.”

            Evan stopped what he was doing and said “It’s not an oak,it’s a maple.”He suddenly realized he had contradicted the Connor Murphy.He leaned back slightly,fear evident on his expression when Connor just laughed.Evan’s face released all tension and he stared at him,baffled.

            “Sorry, it was just,uh,that time when the school brought us to some forest,some kid pointed out that I had only taken  pictures of oak trees,so it’s the only tree type i know.”

               “Oh cool, you take photos?Can I see?”Evan mentally chided himself for asking such personal questions,but contrary to what Evan thought,Connor pulled out his wallet showed him pictures he had taken.And they were actually good.

                “Wow, these look great!”he said.Connor chuckled and made a small smile.Evan thought he looked cute.He should smile more often.But he’d nevr actually say that to his face.He’d probably get punched.

                “Hey,can i stay here for a while?My sister is off somewhere doing art stuff,and I need to stay somewhere where I won’t get bored.Soo,can I?”Evan was startled out of his thoughts and hurriedly agreed.

 “Uh,yeah,sure.”

“Sweet.”

God,this boy was cute.

What he would do for a date with him.

                   Around the 6th hour,Connor startedactually helpong managing the stalls and costumers.Evan kept on assuring him he really didn’t need to,but Connor insisted.Evan’s heart swelled.

                 They talked about random and mundane things.Those conversations were the most fun.They’d see a girl wearing Harry Potter t-shirt and start talking about  which Hogwarts houses,which would then spiral down to X-Men 

               Connor would also get refreshments every hour.Maybe a lemonade or something from the booths that sold food.Evan thought it was the sweetest thing.

               Around ten minutes in,Jared came by from the tech booth.He made some small talk and downed Evan’s pink lemonade.Not a minute since he had left,he sent a text with thumbs up emoji and a good job evan to Evan.He replied with a not now and he resisted the urge to send a middle finger.He put his phone away and continued to talk with Connor about Professor X and Cyclops.

            A little after the eight and final hour,Zoe Murphy jogged over to their booth and dragged Connor out,saying “Mom is calling us.Hurry up.”Evan used to be so into Zoe but he fell out of it.Connor’s face fell and he waved to Evan.Evan did the dame and resisted the urge to say how he felt the same way as he did. 

         As he went away,he quickly went through what he had done that day and if he did anything wrong.He had done okay except..

“Hey, I forgot to give your change!”he exclaimed to a figure in a black hoodie getting further from him.

 “Keep it!And check the paper!”he shouted back.

          For the past hour,they had been playing games on a scrap piece of paper that Evan found.He checked it and it read:

 lets hang out at a real carnival sometime.call me - connor

          Underneath that was a phone number scrawled messily.He smiled from ear to ear and covered his face.He was panicking completely,but he was over- the-moon happy.He reread the note again.Wait...

Had he been asked out?

He couldn’t possibly have, but maybe he had?

jared!!!!

what the hell evan

i think connor asked me out

               “How was the carnival,honey?”His mom asked over a cup of coffee when he came home.”I know, you didn’t want  to go,but was it okay?”

               “Y’know,mom,”he started,grin from the carnival still evident on his face.”It was great.”   

                                                       -END-

(a/n: this is a connor lives au and i hope you liked it!!i havent written deh in a while,so im a bit rusty but i think this was good! hope you have a great day! (also i am not running out of names okay shut up -eurus) 

#dear evan hansen #deh #evan hansen #connor murphy #jared kleinman (mentioned) #zoe murphy (mentioned) #heidi hansen (mentioned) #tree bros #connor lives au #fanfiction #eurus writes

[dajoezenone]

Remember when I did Reviews and posted them here?

DOCTOR WHO CHRISTMAS SPECIAL AIRED AND IM POSTING THOUGHTS HERE. LETS GOO

MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, YA HEAR? DONT READ THIS IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED TWICE UPON A TIME YET. DONT BE STUPID. Im serious.

I feel like Moffat wasted this idea. He had this great setup to do an episode about how the show has changed, and questioning if thats a good or a bad thing, but this was ultimately not that. 

Sure, there are a few jokes about how the Doctor has changed, and in the end we see the seeds of the older Doctor in the younger one, but ultimately that isn’t the focus. Which is kind of weird because, again, I feel like using this idea on a story that ISNT about that is a waste. 

But Im getting ahead of myself. 

It starts out by showing us scenes from the episode where Bill Hartnell’s doctor regenerates, and then cuts off, leading into where the previous episode ended. There’s some text narration that I dont like because it is 1- unnecessary and B- weird? When has the show ever done this? Why was it so obviously something done in post? And if it was written in, why’d they make it look like a last minute decision done in post? 

Anyways, the two Doctors themselves are both great. Or at least, the Actors are really great. They’re not written very impressively. This is not Moffat at his best. Which is a shame, because I loved the Moffat era and Im sad that it feels like the man himself was phoning it in at the end.

After the theme tune, we’re introduced to Mark Gatiss’s character, who is a WWI soldier, moments before his death. Time is frozen all around him, and then he’s transported to where the two Doctors are. 

His character isn’t bad. I didn’t mind him while I was watching, but looking back on the episode he was mostly there to serve the plot, which was ultimately pointless. So he does kinda bug me.  Anyways they all go into the TARDIS. Theres some jokes about the secret alchohol stache we saw a few Christmases ago which is fine. Some humor about the guitar, which I dont like. A Couple of the Doctors have played musical instruments. Having a personality trait thats consistent across Doctors be insulted by the original Doctor makes very little sense in my mind. And Capaldi is embarrassed of it? Capaldi’s Doctor is many things but embarrassed of one of the things that is legitimately cool? Weird conversation imo. 

Oh and here we’re reintroduced to the fact that First Doctor was a bit sexist. Which, fine. He kinda was. Its an area where the Doctor has changed with the times. Except that its implied in other Capaldi episodes that Time Lord society just is actually more progressive bc they can change from male to female with a simple regeneration. This is why I feel like this was such a waste of potential. A trait that they implicitly retconned to not have changed over time is one of the main differences between the two that they focus on. Why? Nothing interesting is really learned there. It just lets Moffat virtue signal which is unnecessary. 

Back to the plot, the TARDIS is captured by “The Dead” who dont explain whats going on, which is dumb of them, but offer to trade soldier Gatiss for Bill Potts, who is apparently among the dead. Nice. So glad they brought back a character whose arc ended with her getting a happy ending in order to show that it didn’t last long and that when they brought her back for an episode, it was for a plot related gimmick and she cant stay on the show still. I know they weren’t going to, but it still annoys me. I was ready for more Bill. I love Bill and this felt like a tease. Speaking of which, they let you think it really is Bill. Its not like in Day of the Doctor where you know that isn’t Rose the whole time. No, they let you think it maybe really is Bill. Why? 

After some banter, the four of them escape the glass dead people. Or, person. Who looks very fake and not very intimidating. Which makes sense considering SPOILER ALERT the glass dead person isn’t evil. She’s not evil at all. She’s the main antagonist and in the end of the episode the Doctor’s basically just like “Wow OK well thats fine keep doing what you’re doing”. Nothing really even comes of it. Its all just padding and setup for the episode to end in the way that we all know it will. 

Getting ahead of myself again. They spend some time on some Dalek controlled planet, where Rusty (The good Dalek that Doctor and Clara went inside back in season 8) sits in a tower and shoots at other Daleks all day. Rusty is old and cranky now. I guess. Actually he’s basically just a regular Dalek actually. But he will help the Doctor bc the Doctor convinces him it’ll hurt other Daleks. But actually all it does is reveal the twist I spoiled for you. 

That said the main point was to give the characters a backdrop other than the old TARDIS set while they interact. We get some stuff with not-Bill and the Doctor which is pretty good. Some stuff with not-Bill and Gatiss which is actually really really good. And some stuff with the two Doctors which was... fine? Again, my main problem with the episode was that the two of them could have been used so much better but they simply aren’t. The two actors are phenominal, but I just dont buy Moffat’s writing in this episode. Give them intersting stuff to say, geez. Its all just kind of... what you’d expect. 

Then we get the ending, which is again just nothing really unexpected. Doctor Capaldi changed stuff around so that when they unfroze time, it was right before the Christmas Armistice of 1914. Which is weird bc its like simultaneously showing that the world needs the Doctor to save people like Gatiss, but also showing that regular people, even soldiers in the midst of war, can be kind. Its a confusing message that tries to have its cake and eat it too. So see? This isn’t just me being upset that they didn’t focus on the stuff I would have. Its also me being upset with how they handled what they did choose to focus on. 

Capaldi’s last scenes, saying goodbye to the Testimony versions of his companions, and his last monologue, are as great as I could have wanted them to be. Both drag on for a bit and had some stuff that could have been left on the cutting room floor and we never would have missed it. Its very obvious that Jenna Coleman wasn’t able to be there on set with the other companions Capaldi says goodbye to. And the Doctor rambles a bit in his monologue about children being allowed to know his name, which isn’t very coherent. I guess that was the point. We’re not supposed to understand. But still. Cut that then. 

Then finally, Jodie Whitaker's first scene. Which is fine. Way too similar to Matt Smith’s first scene but with so much less dialogue. All she says is something like “Aw Brilliant!” which is instantly Doctor-ish. She’s great I love her. And then she stumbles around the exploding TARDIS set a bit before falling out of the ship entirely. Which again just makes me think of End of Time / Eleventh Hour. Like, I’ve seen this before but the character was given so much more room to breathe.  As I’ve said before, its not the female Doctor Im worried about, its Chris Chibnall not giving her anything interesting to do. This doesn’t change that at all. 

Small notes I didn’t know where else to put:

-I swear Capaldi gets emotional for a brief instant when First Doctor mentions Polly. Could be my imagination though since its not indicated at all by the dialogue he says.  -Gatiss getting sad when he’s told he’s from “World War I” is a nice touch. They really believed that their’s was the war to end all wars, the idea that humanity would do it again was so unthinkable and its depressing.  -I could be wrong but I dont think we’ve seen the date the Testimony was from before in Doctor Who, which is interesting because usually future humans with time travel tech coming back are usually from a specific time period in Moffat episodes. Weird that he didn’t stick to that in his last romp. -Rusty was kinda broken when the Doctor first found him. Howd he live for, what did the Doctor say? Thousands of years? MOFFAT JUST BC WE DIDNT SEE A CHARACTER DIE DOESNT MEAN THEY LIVE FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS DANGIT. Also why was Rusty never a contender for the fulfillment of the Hybrid Prophecy if he lived that long? 

All in all, not the worst Moffat story, but far from his best. The message and point are obscured to the point of meaninglessness, but the emotion and characters are there, just not in as strong a force as they should be. :(