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antihero-writings · 9 months ago

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Waving Through the Veil (Ch 1)

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen (Book and Musical)

Summary: Evan is haunted by Connor. No, literally haunted. His ghost shows up after hearing Evan's lie about the Orchard, and Evan can actually see him. But, as weird as this situation is, maybe this is how they can become real friends after all.

Note: The one thing I’ve always wanted to see from this franchise, ever since first watching the musical, but even more so after reading the book, is the ghost of Connor being able to have a relationship with Evan. So...I decided to write it! This is written in the style of the book, and will probably mostly follow the book, (I even include some passages from it), but I will probably draw from the musical at times too, depending on what portrayal of something I like best. For those of you who have read the book, the fic begins in the middle of the first scene of chapter 9. I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know!! It's your comments that fics like this going <3

Chapter 1: All we See Are Ghosts

I didn't bother turning the light on as I flopped down on the couch with the signature groan of a man who’s hit rock bottom. Well maybe not rockbottom, but sediment bottom at least. I think we learned about that in science class; it’s where the fossils are get stuck…That’s pretty much how I feel at the moment.

I'm not sure why I keep reporting back to Jared after every new disaster. I never feel better after our chats. Jared has a way of highlighting my errors so they seem even worse than I first realized.

But I'm so lost right now, sitting alone on the couch in my dark living room. Jared is the only person in the entire world who has even the slightest appreciation for where I am.

I bring Jared up to speed with what happened at the Murphys. We end up texting for a while, and, at this point, my stomach is still churning from the conversation, especially the prospect of making fake emails. Fake emails...to continue the lie I didn't intend to start.

What is wrong with me? Seriously. Why do I keep fooling myself into thinking that the worst that could happen has already happened? Things always get worse. It's guaranteed. That's how life works. You're born and you keep getting older and grayer and sicker, and no matter what effort you make to reverse the process, you die. Every single time To repeat: worse, worse, worse, and then death. I have a long way to go before the worst. This is only the beginning.

And these emails...I'd be giving them what they want—what they need. I'd be helping them.

It's tempting. It really is. But it's also...sick? I can't keep doing this, deceiving these poor people. I'm not cut out for it.

At one point tonight it felt like I was sweating from my eyes—that's how anxious I was. Had I perspired another drop, I might have mummified. I can't go on like this. I'm all drained out.

I turn my phone over so it's facedown. The light from the screen waves over my cast. The memory of the story I conjured up for the Murphys hits me anew. They were talking about the orchard, and I guess the way they were talking about it made me think of Ellison Park. And I can no longer think of Ellison Park without thinking of the tree, and my fall. Connor wasn’t there that day, of course. But I guess...he could've been. when I was telling the story…it was almost like he was. Suddenly thinking of him being there to come get me…everything felt okay. Or at least not not okay. And 'not okay' is how I usually feel.

I’m considering going up to my room when I hear a voice speak:

“So you took my advice after all. It was a nice story, I’ll give you that. No racist-punching, but better than the truth at least.”

I fall off the couch and let out a scream that I’ll admit isn’t very manly.

I realize I probably should have turned on said light, because if I had, I might have noticed someone in the room. And that would have been scary, yes, but probably less scary than simply hearing a disembodied voice suddenly talking to me.

I’ve prepared—well, not so much prepared as worried, which masquerades remarkably well as preparation—for people breaking into my house longer than I’ve worried about the Murphys. Though, to be fair, I expected them to come with knives and/or guns and threats...not talking about advice and punching racists. (The people breaking in, not the Murphys).

The living room isn’t that far from the kitchen, I probably should be going for a knife. Instead I just try to scramble away on the couch and don’t make much distance.

“Who-Who are you?!” I demand, (or, at least, I try to demand, but it sounds more like a squeal), “Why are you in my house?!”

The perp makes a noise like a scoff. “So you can hear me. I thought you might have seen me the other day but I—“ He stops himself.

I stop in my scrambling too, because it’s starting to hit me, like spice that takes a second to set your mouth on fire.

I know that voice. It isn’t the voice of a strange burglar or serial killer—or at least, I don’t think he is but I guess I can’t rule it out, because it’s—

It’s a voice that can’t be speaking to me right now. Literally can't.

“Still,” He’s not disembodied after all, because his shadow walks over to the shelf. Despite the realization, or maybe because of it, I resume my scrambling, finally making it off the couch and onto my feet, (not without falling over first). “That’s some psychotic bullshit you barfed up. One moment you’re writing some creepy note about my sister, trying to make everyone to think I’m crazy, next thing I know you have dinner with my family, talking shit about how we were friends, telling stories about how we went to the orchard together. I’ve never been very good at math, tell me,” I can’t really see him but something tells me he’s turning to me with those blue death rays, “how does that add up?”

Somehow in my scrambling I’ve made it to the light switch, and my fingers clutch it like its a lifesaver thrown out to my pitifully struggling body at sea.

I’m not quite sure I wouldn’t rather drown.

I flick my finger, turning on the light.

I already knew I’d regret it before I turned it on, and, when I did, the regret hit me instantly and intensely, like the spice finally kicking in.

Standing there in his thick boots, and ripped jeans, and long, messy hair, and eyes that analyze my soul is Connor Murphy.

I cover my mouth, breath gaining about ten pounds, heart gaining a hundred, but still running anyways.

“Holy—Holy shit.” I say into my hand. “Holy fuck.”

Connor smirks. “At least someone has the decency to react.”

“You’re—but you—You’re alive?! You’ve been alive this whole time?!”

His eyes darken, dart away. “Not alive, no.”

“Well w-what else could you be?!” I stutter, reaching my tremoring hand into my pocket for my meds, my Ativen—maybe I’ll find my sanity in there if I dig far enough. He’s walking towards me and my heartbeat has gone past the hundred mile-per-hour mark to the speed of light. “I mean, dead people don’t just show up in people’s houses—!”

He leans forward and swipes his hand at me, and I tense, thinking he’s going to knock the pills out of my hand, but instead his fingers go right through me.

I let myself look up at him, finally understanding.

Up at the kid who I always tried to avoid. The kid whose sister I have a crush on. The kid who pushed me at lunch the other day. At the kid who took my letter in the computer lab. The kid I was terrified would ruin my life with that letter (well, more ruined than it already is). The kid who I'm pretending was my best friend. The kid who killed himself.

At Connor Murphy’s ghost.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

The pills scatter on the couch before I have a chance to attempt to get even one down, and I scramble to the bathroom to empty what little of Cynthia’s dinner I actually ate into the toilet.

In between heaves I try to think, to wrap my brain around this, to just have a second to breathe, not really able to do or have any of the above.

Step one: Connor Murphy steals my letter. The letter I wrote to myself. One that was more honest than it strictly should have been.

Step two: Connor Murphy kills himself.

Step three: Connor Murphy’s parents think my letter is his suicide note.

Step four: I can’t bring myself to tell the truth, so I end up going to the wake, and going to dinner at the Murphys’ house, and fabricating some crazy story about us having a picturesque friendship, and planning on making secret emails—

Step five: Connor Murphy’s ghost appears to me in my room.

Like an actual ghost. Yesterday I didn’t believe those existed. I think my mom does, and I always liked watching documentaries about haunted houses. But what I like about the documentaries is they often include a scientific explanation.

And aren’t ghosts supposed to be like…scary? I mean, don’t get me wrong this is scary, Connor is scary—he was scary before he died. But I always thought ghosts were supposed to be like something out of a horror movie, covered in rotting flesh, unable to do anything but moan and scream. Not the kid you happen to be pretending you were best friends with showing up in your room.

No, no, actually, I think I know what’s going on here. Yeah. There’s no ghost. This isn’t happening. The stuff with the letter didn’t even happen either. There was actually a step zero in there:

Step zero is I went insane.

When I manage to get the courage to come back into the room. He’s disappeared. I’ll admit, I was kinda hoping for that. I’m half relieved—more like fifteen sixteenths. Perhaps he was a hallucination after all. All those skipped dinners getting to me, when I actually ate something my body couldn’t handle it. I do my best to clean up the scattered pills on the couch, and the scattered thoughts in my brain.

But then I walk upstairs to my room I find I was wrong.

“I’ve gotten a lot reactions over the years,” he remarks when I get back. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that one.”

“Sorry, I—It’s just—I just—you’re…you’re here.”

“Not because I want to be, believe me. I’d rather be practically anywhere else.” His hand passes through my shelf.

“And you’re dead.”

“Come on.” He feigns offense. “A little respect for your dearly departed. I mean we were best friends, after all.”

“Oh god.” That’s right, the dinner. I'd tried to block out the fact that he mentioned my story earlier. “You really heard all that?!”

“Didn’t intend to go back to my house. Died to be rid of it, after all. But I did, and I saw you there, and I couldn’t fathom why. And here you were spouting the most incredible fucking bullshit about how we were friends.”

“Yeah-Um-So-Well—“ I breathe out, trying to get my lungs to work properly. I thought the Murphy’s house felt hot earlier. This is a couple degrees hotter than the Sahara.

I just want this day to end. What demon (if ghosts exist, those probably exist, after all) marked their calendar for Torment-Evan-Day? I mean, that’s kinda every day, but this is a specially-crafted brand of torture.

“The-” I swallow. “The-The letter? You know, the one that you took from me?" Then, realizing that sounds accusatory, I add, "I-I’m sure you didn’t mean to.” I shake my head. I’m trying my best to tell the truth without making him upset. It feels like a futile endeavor. “Your parents think youwrote it. T-To me, I mean. They think it was your”—I don’t know how or why, but I manage to look him in the eye—“suicide note.”

His eyes widen, but they narrow quickly afterwards. “So you just sat there and fed them bullshit about how we were friends instead of correcting them?”

“Well, no-They—they—” No, not the Sahara, I’m ninety percent sure I’m standing right in the sun. “I tried to tell them—” I swallow. “I promise I really did!” I wipe my sweaty hands on my shirt. “I mean technically I actually did tell them you didn’t write it—they were just…they didn’t understand. They wanted me—They were looking to me for help, for answers. I couldn’t—!“

Once again, I don’t know how I manage to look into those soul-sucking eyes. But once I do, I realize something.

An hour ago, I thought of him as the dead kid. The kid who killed himself. He was a concept, a symbol, more than a person I knew. But before that, as little as we talked, I did know him. He was Connor Murphy. He was real.

And in the second it takes to realize that, I’m replaying our conversations, and I’m realizing that’s wrong too. This isn’t Connor Murphy, and this isn’t the kid who killed himself. This is Connor Murphy…who killed himself. That is to say, the symbol, and the real Connor I knew, coalesce into one.

And I realize that those eyes aren’t analyzing my soul, or trying to suck it out, or hating me, or anything like that…they are so vastly, so perfectly—

“You...You didn’t give them anything else.” I don’t know how, where, I got this random shot of bravery. “I didn’t want to take away all they had of you, even if it was—“ I laugh a little, not because it’s funny, but because I can’t figure out what else to do. “Even if it was just some stupid letter I wrote to myself.”

His eyes widen. I think it’s because he’s surprised at, angered by, my boldness. I get ready to apologize, but he says:

“You wrote that to yourself?”

My eyes widen.

That’s right…I didn’t exactly let that on last time. Didn't have the chance. He thought I was messing with him.

“Y-Yeah. It…” I sigh. There’s no use denying it, and, well, it's not like he can tell anyone, right? Dead men tell no tales, after all...Except for the fact that one is talking to me. Right now. “It was an assignment from my therapist.”

Besides, if anyone’s going to understand…it’s him.

And...that's when it hits me.

Along with the realization that this is Connor Murphy, who killed himself, I realize I’ve been focused on the wrong thing.

I was worried—certain, really—that Connor would something terrible with it. All this time I was focused on covering my ass, I was focused on the fact that the letter was mine, not Connor’s.

This whole time, even after he was gone, it didn’t compute. I didn’t realize. The reason he took it. He didn’t take it because he wanted to use it against me.

Was it possible he took it...because he felt the same way?

“I bet he always brings things back to some shit that happened with your father.”

“Yeah…Yeah he does do that.” I laugh a little.

“Mine liked to equate my drug use with suppressed sexual frustrations. I told him I didn’t think they were very suppressed.”

I laugh, but quickly stop myself, remembering what happened last time I laughed at something he said, but when I turn to him he’s actually smiling. A little, at least.

“Into the Wild.” As far as abrupt subject changes go, that one might take the cake. He turns to my shelf.

“I’m—I’m sorry?”

He runs his finger along the spine of a book...or maybe just tries to. Or pretends to.

“O-Oh! You’re talking about the book!”

“I have a copy of it too—had," he scoffs, then mutters, seemingly more to himself than to me: "It feels weird to talk about myself in the past tense."

I'm sure it does feel weird.

I feel weird.

This whole thing is weird.

Even without the whole ghost thing, it feels weird to be in my room, talking about books with Connor Murphy. Like, to actually talk to him, as opposed to nervously and pitifully trying to defend myself, fearing I'll have a black eye in the morning.

“What were you and Zoe talking about?” He asks, changing the subject yet again, like that one hadn’t satisfied him enough.

“W-Oh, you saw us talking in the car. She—“ I grimace. “She wanted to know if we, uh, if we did drugs together.”

He snorts. “Always a charmer, that Zoe. My biggest fan you could say. You said we were friends and her first assumption was that we did drugs together. Can’t say her suspicion is unfounded. At least on my end. Though something tells me you’re not the type.”

“No—No I’ve never—“ I swallow. "No."

"So." Yet another subject change, it sounds like. "I had a secret email account, huh? I used it to talk to you all the time?

I freeze.

Yup. Just when I think the worst has already happened, I'm reminded hell has nine circles, and I haven't even arrived at the lobby.

When he was dead, he was a symbol. And, really—as terrible as it sounds—I could say anything about a symbol. I mean he wasn’t going to hear me. But now that I know he’s not dead—well, he is dead, just…undead, as insane as that is to think—and real (as far as I can tell), and he very much canhear me, I remember, despite the sadness in his eyes, this is still Connor Murphy, the kid who thew a printer at Mrs. G in second grade.

What the hell was I thinking?

His eyes darken. “Like, what? Secret lovers?" He shook his head. "Why the fuck would you say that?”

“Oh god, yeah I….I did say that.” Somebody just end it. “It was the only thing that made sense.”

“What kind of fucking sense does that make?!” There's a curl to his fingers.

Even though I know he can’t hurt me, my body doesn’t; it’s been trained to run away, and can’t help but stumble backwards like there’s a corporeal person in my room.

“Well they wanted to know how we could be friends without them knowing it.”

He scoffs. “I took you for some kind of loser. But now I see.” He leans forward so his eyes are level with mine. "You’re a diabolical mastermind, Evan Hansen.”

“I’m really—really—not. I just—” I hit the wardrobe in my backing up. I can’t believe he really thinks I intended any of this. My head falls into my hands. “Everything’s so messed up.”

“You saying I messed everything up?!” There’s a snarl in his voice.

“No—No!” I stand, waving my hands. “I didn’t say that! That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying I messed everything up!”

I expect him to keep advancing, to try his best to punch me, but instead he stares at me, then sorta…falls onto bed (I’m both surprised he does this, and surprised he can) laying back, sighing. He puts his arm over his face and, to my even greater surprise, he begins to laugh. Not an actual happy laugh. I know this laugh: it’s the kind of laugh I laugh when my body doesn’t know what else to do.

“Sure, people always ignoring me, always treating me like shit, like I had some disease, that was your fault.”

“Well, I—“

“Me pushing you, that was your fault."

“Well that’s—That’s not exactly what I meant.”

"Me killing myself, leaving nothing but a letter you wrote to yourself…that’s totally your fault.”

I freeze again. I think hell might have frozen over.

He sighs. “You’re right about one thing: everything is truly fucked up.”

I sit on the bed next to him and look at my hands. I’d like to say something. To do something. To offer some words of comfort. But I’m well acquainted with the fact that 'comforting' words (like 'Chin up! It'll get better!' or ‘It’s not the end of the world.’) really aren’t comforting at all.

I’d like to at least say ‘It’ll be okay’ but…how can I say that? Maybe, for me, everything will work out in the end (…I think this is the first time that thought has ever crossed my mind) but he’s already dead. There’s nowhere for him to go. Except the afterlife. …If that even exists.

The world’s already ended for him.

I’d like to comfort him. To argue against him. To show him at least one nugget that has been unharmed in the fuckage that I could present to him. But I can’t disagree with him. Like…at all.

Like I said. Things get worse and worse.

And then...you die.

I realize something.

It's not truly comforting, but it's a positive, at least.

I jerk my head up to look at him.

“Hey, maybe-maybe you could help me!”

“Help you?” He lifts his arm a little so he can raise an eyebrow at me.

“Help me set things right! Help me tell your parents we weren’t really best friends! I’ve been wanting to tell them the truth this whole time I just—I can’t seem to get it out. You could help me figure out how to tell them!”

He sits up, studying me. “I could do that. I could help you set things right. Put an end to this charade.”

I nod profusely.

“Help you tell my parents that the only thing they have of me is a letter you wrote to yourself. Dash all their hopes and dreams, make them miserable, you know, all that shit.”

It sounds bad when he puts it like that. Maybe the truth won't set you free after all.

“Or.” His mouth curves into a smirk, and I smile back—not because I’m happy, not because it’s an actual happy smirk, rather because it’s the kind of smirk that makes me nervous as all hell, and when that happens my body picks from a wheel of stupid reactions. “I could watch you continue your little farce, watch you suffer as you invent more and more ridiculous ways to cover your ass.”

No, no, that sounds equally bad. Let’s not do that either. “Is there an option C?” My voice cracks.

He considers it a moment, sits back on his hands. “I suppose we could compromise. In your little stories about me, it might be nice if you actually portrayed me accurately. I could help with that. Right now your impersonation is laughable. I don’t know how it fooled my parents.”

“I vote for option C.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I mean…What do you want?”

“Ohh you might just regret that.” He smirks again.

“Wait, I wasn't agreeing to giving you anything you want! I was just asking—!“

“Too late.” He puts his finger to his lips. “The deal is sealed.”

I keep digging myself into a bigger ditch without even saying anything. Let alone when I open my mouth.

“So what’s the next step of our little game?”

“Well…” I swallow. “Jared told me he could write fake emails. You know because your parents will...probably want to see them.”

“Jared, huh? Kleinman?" (I’m guessing he hasn’t forgotten about the incident from the other day.) “Good thing I’m here. If I’d left you to your own devices I’d end sounding like a—”

“Did you eat already?”

I nearly scream—well no, not nearly, I do let out a sort of strangled cry—at my mom’s voice. I had been so focused on all of…this craziness that I forgot she was heading home.

“I didn’t think I was that scary.” She laughs to herself a little, then she looks around the room, brow furrowed. “Were you talking to someone?”

She can’t see him. Good. I don’t have to explain why a dead kid is sitting in my room.

“N-Nope! Just uhh—Practicing.”

“Practicing? For what?”

“Uhh, for a play,” I say because what else could I be practicing? I can hear Connor stifling a laugh behind me.

She blinks in surprise. “Oh, Honey, you’re in the school play?”

She’s going to say it’s a bad idea. Because it is a bad idea. Because it’s not true.

“That’s fantastic!”

I blink. What?

“I always thought you hated public speaking. You know, from that time you fainted?”

“I do. That’s, uhh, that’s why I signed up!” I feel my face burning, I make a thumbs up with my casted arm. I know Connor can’t exactly use this against me, but him hearing me stumble through my lies to my mom in my own home isn’t something I signed up for today. Though, I didn’t sign up for any of this. Can I unsubscribe? “Yeah, I wanna get over that fear.”

“I’m so proud of you!” She clasps her hands together. “If you haven’t eaten yet, why don’t we have a celebratory meal?”

I’m shocked. Usually she’s the police on making sure I’ve eaten.

“Oh…Darn,” I say a little over-emphatically. “I already ate.”

“Darn.” She repeats.

“That was fun the other day, right?” She says. “Going out for breakfast?”

So much has happened since our breakfast it already feels like ages ago. “Yeah. Definitely. It was.”

“I was thinking, how about I bag one of my shifts this week. When’s the last time we did a taco night?”

I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure those tortillas in the freezer have turned by now. “Oh. You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. Maybe we could even start brainstorming those essay questions together.”

The essays. Of course. Her face waits expectantly. “Sure,” I say. “That would be great.”

“Oh. That’s exciting,” she says looking victorious. “I’m excited now. Something to look forward to.”

“Yeah.”

“‘Practicing’?” Connor snorts after she leaves. “‘For a play’? You? You really need some coaching on this whole lying business. I thought you were a terrible liar with my parents but this is fucking priceless.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I bite.

Something dark enters his eyes. “I think hell will wait for me.”

"Well that's not what I—Oh never mind."

#dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #deh musical #deh #heidi hansen #musical fandom

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todays-evan-hansen · 6 years ago

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//Totally real conversation that definitely happened (plus my awful memes. Let's just pretend they are supposed to be like that)

sorry @todays-jared-kleinman

#todays evan hansen #evan hansen #dear evan hansen #fake texts #almost like fake emails...

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musical-musings · 6 years ago

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text series

what's up im q loser and can't right but i can think of dialogue so i offer you Character x Reader (y/n) fake texts ;)))

also i suck at oc's so reader's family is literally just falsettos (Marvin n Trina as ur parents what a win) in just about everything im gonna be writing from here on out :^^

starting with!

Love Hate

Connor Murphy x Neighbor! Reader

Y/N and Connor have been neighbors for about five months. Both of which initially wanting to be friends, but their conversations have never really gone as planned; leading to a bit of a rocky acquaintanceship.

there will be more as i think of things/as y'all suggest things

#deh #headcanons #connor murphy x reader #texts #fake texts #connor murphy #dear evan hansen #deh headcanons #deh x reader #deh imagine #connor murphy headcanons #connor murphy imagine #deh hc #evan hansen #connor murphy headcanon

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vivisona · 7 years ago

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legend has it that if you say ‘dear evan hansen, be more chill, heathers and hamilton” three times in front of a mirror, a theatre fan will appear and call you ‘a fake theatre fan’

#broadway musicals #dont @ me #dear evan hansen #be more chill #hamilton #musical theatre #original post #text post #heathers the musical #i dont like the whole 'fake theatre fan' concept

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years ago

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Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives.

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys.

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5.

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part.

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective.

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did.

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best.

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet.

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN.

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship.

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other.

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words.

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept.

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game.

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing.

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too.

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters.

Dear Evan Hansen,

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely,

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen review #dear evan hansen 2021 #ben platt #amy adams #kaitlyn dever #julianne moore #colton ryan #danny pino #movie reviews #film reviews

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crackinwise · 3 years ago

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Forgive this ramble, but because the Dear Evan Hansen move is reportedly... badly adapted from its source, there's gonna be a bunch of people who get second-hand glib summaries of the original plot and declare it a trainwreck or problematic or tone-deaf, etc.

DEH, the stage musical, does not have a hero or a villain. It has awkward, lonely, mentally ill teenagers in our age of viral fame-chasing (the stage is filled with giant social media posts and texts) taking things too far, facing the consequences, and then learning to move on.

Evan resonates with people because of his depression, social anxiety and possible autism ("Waving Through A Window" gets me bawling). He first gets into this mess simply because he's too fearful to correct a grieving family's assumptions and doesn't want to hurt them. It spirals when he doesn't want to let go of the new family and love and popularity, and then the lie is so big it has a life of its own. No one watching roots for him to continue this way, but we still worry for when it inevitably comes crashing down. Because, when it comes out he was at his absolute lowest point and almost ended up like Conner, you understand a bit more why he would cling to the fantasy about having such a friend.

But there's no heroes anywhere else in the cast either. Everybody, save for Evan's struggling mom, uses Conner's death selfishly. Other kids at school want the clout or to feel like a special caretaker to Conner's fake legacy. Even Conner's family, who choose to believe a fairytale of their troubled son/brother because they feel guilty for just pegging him as an asshole and not bothering to help him. Which is a shame bc in one interaction Conner has with Evan, you see he did have a soft side and reached out to another lonely kid. For one second, you glimpse what might have been.

Adults play teenage characters all the time, so I'm not sure that's the movie's problem here. But movies for general audiences do rely on framing someone to root for more than in stage where rules and fantasy have a wider range to play. For film, it usually misses the feel and surreal setting of stage direction that kicks on your imagination. A good director could absolutely translate it to film, like West Side Story or more currently In The Heights. It doesn't sound like that was attempted here tho. Reviews coming out make the DEH movie sound more like the disturbing film Father Of The Year put to music.

Hollywood should just screw off and let musicals and stage plays be filmed as is like Andrew Lloyd Webber did decades ago, and Lin did for Hamilton recently. But PLEASE watch DEH in its original form, and if you need help finding that "slime tutorial" let me know.

#reviews no one asked for #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen spoilers #dear evan hansen movie

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youranxiousnerd · 4 years ago

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The Field Trip Thoughts

Because there is a lot of them

Spoilers for HSMTMS Below

First off, Gina and Ej are adorable. I don’t ship Portwell romantically but I adore their friendship

I’m sorry Ej is the president of the AV club?!?!?! He’s been a part of the club for, what, like two weeks? Go big or go home I guess

I love Nini’s outfit

RICKY USE YOUR EYES!!!

i see that a common theme this season is Ricky not being able to see what is right in front of him.

I know Ricky is going through stuff. I’m a firm supporter of the Ricky needs therapy campaign.

Gp better be Ej’s contact name for Gina or I will riot

“Are you announcing the fall musical, I vote Dear Evan Hansen.”

two evans and possibly a third #joeserafiniforevan

YA KOURT IS STILL ON COSTUME CREW WE STAN AN ACTOR/TECHIE

“SPEECH SPEECH”

i love dara’s laugh

“Can you not keep your phone on silent in rehearsal like everyone else?” “’Sorry, everyone’, is what Carlos would say if he were more like me.”

I smell tension. They seem kind of tense this episode. I don’t know where it came from, there wasn’t really any build up bc thats how seblos rolls. Like they were completely fine last episode. Maybe Seb is just fed up or something happened off screen?

im just happy we’re getting seblos content lmao

“Terrible line”

“Oh my god is your phone hungry i don’t understand.”

In the “previously on HSMTMTS” segment in episode 5, Carlos mentioned he was slightly scared to be on stage. he seems so effing stressed and irritated this episode more than usual. Carlos for the love of god talk to your boyfriend and eat a snickers.

I think the North High stuff has gone to his head.

GAHH SEB’S COSTUME

okay carlos honey i love you but how can do you know north high stole your beast mask because a bit of fur is sticking out of a trunk. they have fur too.

guys look around the room first it could have fallen but nOoOo you assume they committed a felony right off the back.

“Let it go” the kids of east high did not in fact let it go.

I AM DIANE AND I LOVE NORTH HIGH

yes, bring the loudest kids in the school to go steal something, thats an excellent idea.

and bring the kid who cant lie for sh!t im talking about you seb

RICHARD BOWEN YOU DO NOT SCREAM YOUR SCHOOL NAME IN THE ENEMY SCHOOL WTF

Carlos looks so done with everyone I feel you man, i feel you

north high looks more like pottery barn than an actual high school. Seriously, who or what is funding this place?

Miss Jenn: tells the kids to let it go and not go steal the mask.

Also Miss Jenn: goes to north high

GET AWAY FROM GINA YOU MFER

ej is wearing the gayest shirt in history how does that north high boy believe they’re dating

nice save, ej.

the faking dating was one of the best scenes of the episode.

AWWW EJ

im so happy gina is finally getting the attention she deserves. like i said earlier, i dont ship portwell but gina needs friends and ashlyn and ej are some pretty good friends. they have her back and that’s what i think gina needs.

LILY IS EVIL BUT SHE LOOKS GOOD DOING IT

kourtney darling lower your voice youre on a heist not shopping for shoes

nini you have done nothing for this heist why are you here?

for the record, i don’t hate nini, but shes probably one of my least favorite characters. i liked her in episode 6 and season 1 tho.

the main kids all share one braincell they didn’t check the box where they originally thought the mask was.

“I want one”

Wow, you guys got caught. Between the Wildcats, loud voices, and large crew I would have never guessed.

SEB’S FACE WHEN NORTH FINDS THEM IM DYING.

The aggressiveness of Antoine’s french is killing me.

zacky roy what are you doing?

LILY AND THE FLASHLIGHT

carlos getting fired up

“fugly” dramatic gasp

“Oh yeah, what if we bop to the top” I HAVE WAITED 17 EPISODES FOR MEAN/AGGRESSIVE/ANGRY SEB IT WAS WORTH IT

GO OFFF SEBBY

carlos’ “honey calm tf down” face

“honey no” “honey yes”

East High is confused by a dance off (so am i) but then preform a musical number to save their teacher from getting fired complete with original a original song and dance

“That’s weird even for me”

LILY DONT YOU EFFING DARE INSULT ASHLYN I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF

“She’s better than this” Next scene is Miss. Jenn dancing with the enemy

Around you is my least favorite song of the season. That being said, the singing is good

RICKY LOOK THE OTHER WAY

“Tom Holland on stilts”

“That man is ridiculous and you should dump him and date me” ANTOINE THAT IS A HORRIBLE THING TO SAY BUT ITS SO FUNNY

i love antoine

dj antoine in the house!

“I knew you all didn’t like the Mob Song”

“What kind of budget” THANK YOU KOURTNEY

nini straight up said “see ya”

how is no one questioning why someone is in costume? didn’t lily say no costumes?

also how is howie beast playing guitar with those gloves?

YAY KOURTNEY

ANDREW BARTH FELDMAN EVERYONE

seb really said “go get em babe”

CARLOS POP OFF

i love how frankie was singing in his lower range or it was just autotune

ASHLYN I LOVE YOU YASSSSS

nice save, antoine. do i ship? idk, but it was cute.

mob song was good. the solos were pretty good as well as the dancing but the background track...not my style. it was enjoyable tho.

SALTY BIG RED

“No, Nini’s Rose Song.”

im so glad they addressed why the rose song cant be used. its a really good song and olivia sings it perfectly but it doesn’t make sense for the plot and you cant alter text.

“Ej you had one job”

nini really likes leaving

Zack you are an adult it is high school theater not the World Series

“it’s just a song, ricky” I think you kinda, ya know wasn’t “just a song”. Out of the Old wasn’t “just a song”. All I want wasn’t “just a song”. How is Rose Song any different?

gina and ej goofing off is awesome

seb and carlos being the theater dads watching over their children

ope- howie turn your phone off

carlos and seb really said “bye, have fun” THEY BOLTED

ummm...yeah

you can see how much howie regretted in that moment

“I’m Nina” ooo interesting is she going to go by Nina now?

Overall, I really enjoyed the episode. The stakes are high and I’m glad the other relationships are getting screen time. The balance was good this week, I wish it was like this every week. My only issue is how underdeveloped the plot was this episode, but beside that it was pretty good.

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wilted · 4 years ago

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oh my god i dont remember their url but in 2017(ish) there was this dude who pretty much faked liking me platonically and romantically (under instruction of their shitty boyfriend who’s an entire other pile of shit) but the way he went about cutting me out of his life was by softblocking me on another site and not responding to my texts for a few hours and then texting me what was basically a callout post you’d expect from a 16 year old musical fan and then he sent me fanart of dear evan hansen characters with hanahaki disease because he and his boyfriend kinned the short one and the edgy one and i kinda went along with it cuz i was 15 and stupid but yeah man it was a fucking trip. shits weird to think about now

#wow

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epsilon-church · 8 years ago

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hey guys, rvb deh au. thanks i'll be here all night

#text #if this shows up in dear evan hansen tags i #but yeah i have a lot of thought put into this #evan is simmons (could be caboose but it's important that they Weren't friends so)#connor is church bc yknow. dead. and requiem is just grif in reacts #jared is donut and alana is doc #evans mom is sarge i think.#and connors fam is zoe=grif carolina=the mom wash=the dad #not. in a washlina sense just in a. based on their roles (and requiem again)#ANYEAY SJKSD #au #mine #church as connor is the worst thing i've done to hi #m and im sorry #for people who haven't seen deh: simmons fakes a friendship w church after church dies for a lot of reasons and it's a lot

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day-writingdaydreams · 4 years ago

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You Will Be Found - Chapt. 1 Anybody Have A Map?

A big Thank You to @khanofallorcs for being a wonderful Beta, and to @noirequin for creating the Spin the Record Challenge

Can also be read on AO3

🎵“And the scary truth is I’m flying blind, and I’m making this up as I go!”🎵

“Marinette, are you okay?”

Marinette turned slightly from her position, leaning on the railing of her balcony, looking out at the world to see the little red and black spotted being who had asked her the question.

“Yeah, Tikki,” she said in a quiet, almost sad voice. “I just… woke up an hour ago and couldn’t fall back asleep. So I decided to come up here to do some thinking.”

Tikki flew over to her chosen, a concerned look crossing her tiny little face as she faced her. “What seems to be troubling you?”

The dark-haired girl blew out a raspberry, ruffling her fringe. “The question should be what isn’t troubling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” she trailed off, the beginnings of being overwhelmed evident on her face

“Can we try to have an optimistic outlook?” The Kwami of Creation interrupted her holder, knocking her out of the downward spiral for the moment. “Can we buck up just enough to see the world won't fall apart? Maybe this day we decide we’re not giving up before we’ve tried? Today, let's make a new start.” Tikki said as she gave Marinette’s cheek a nuzzle.

A sudden noise interrupted them, making the two glance in the direction from whence it came. Noticing it was her phone with a notification, the designer picked it up to see that Alya had texted her.

“I wonder what Alya wants this early,” Marinette said with a sidelong glance to her Kwami. Tikki gave her a shrug, just as confused as the girl sitting beside her.

Ladyblogger: hey gurl wat up?

R u excited about 2day’s project?

MDCDesigns: Yas!

I can’t wait 2 c who I’m partnered with!

Ladyblogger: Whoa!

Ur awake!

Wait, y r u awake?

MDCDesigns: Couldn’t sleep.

Ladyblogger: That sux

So…

Who do u think ur partner is gonna b?

MDCDesigns: idk

But I hope its not Chloe

Or Lila

Ladyblogger: y not Lila?

MDCDesigns: sorry Als,

No offense

but...

I don’t trust her on a project this big

Ladyblogger: gurl.

I don’t know what ur issue is wit Lila

but u need to stop being jelly of her

“How did this get turned into me being jealous of her?” Marinette asked out loud, turning to face the little red embodiment of Creation with wide eyes.

Turning back to her text conversation, the dark-haired girl furrowed her brows as she tried to get her point across to her supposed “best friend”.

“Another stellar conversation for the scrapbook,” the dark haired girl quoted with a sigh as she began typing again.

MDCDesigns: I am NOT jealous of her, Als!

I just don’t trust her.

Ladyblogger: so you say gurl

I’ll see u in class

“Another stumble as I’m reaching for the right thing to say,” she muttered quietly with a shake of her head, dismayed at the direction the conversation had taken. “I’m kinda coming up empty, can't find my way to you...”

MDCDesigns: yeah...see u

With a sigh, Marinette exited the text messaging program, checked the time, and slipped her phone into her handbag. It was still pretty early for her to head to school, but she figured that there was a first time for everything.

“It's a ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ kind of day, isn’t it, Marinette,” Tikki commented as she phased into the bag, giving her holder a sympathetic look as she did.

“Oh, Tikki,” the designer said with a humorless chuckle, pinching the bridge of her nose as she headed towards her trap door. “It most certainly is!”

Her parents were surprised to see their perpetually late daughter up and about so early.

”Marinette,” her mom called out before the girl could make her escape. ”We’re going to need you to help out after school today. A big order came in that your father and I need your help to take care of for tonight.”

The dark-haired girl stifled a grimace. She normally didn't mind helping out in the bakery, but today wasn't exactly a normal day.

”I would, Maman, but I'm being assigned a big group project at school today, and I'm not sure when the due date is yet,” Marinette said tactfully.

”I know that your schoolwork comes first, dear,” Sabine countered gracefully as her husband lumbered over to join the pair. ”However, we really could use your help. It would only be for about an hour, give or take.”

It was the give or take that worried her.

Resigned to her fate, Marinette bowed her head dejectedly and mumbled, ”Yes, Maman.”

”Thank you. You're a good girl, Marinette, ” said her father, patting her on the back before heading back to the ovens.

Grabbing a croissant and a to-go cup of coffee, Marinette left her parents with a kiss to their cheeks and a wave before starting her daily walk to school.

As she started up the stairs at the school’s entrance, she was met with the one person who would sour her day.

Lila.

“Well, if it isn’t Mari-brat,” the Italian vixen sneered.

“What do you want, Lie-la?” Marinette asked as she continued up the front steps, keeping her eyes to the front.

“What I want is for you to go down in flames,” the brunette said in a sing-song voice as she walked beside the secret heroine. “Are you ready to give up yet?”

At the top of the stairs, the designer spun to face her nemesis, blue eyes flashing like lightning. “Let me tell you something,” she growled. “I do not make deals with liars, and I never give up easily.”

“Oh,” the fake fox said coyly, “but you will. I’ve already won, you know. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

With a flick of her brown locks, Lila sauntered away, ready to claim her next victim.

Marinette glared after her, wishing with all of her might that the bitch would finally get caught up in her web of lies. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Another masterful attempt ends with disaster,” she muttered, bringing a hand to her face to give it a slight rub. “Pour another cup of coffee and watch it all crash and burn,” she continued as she headed to the locker room, ready to just get the day over with.

Opening the door and finding the room empty, the designer kept singing under her breath as she reached her locker and gathered her belongings for the day. “It’s a puzzle, it's a maze. I tried to steer through it a million ways, but each day’s another wrong turn,” she took another deep breath as she closed the locker door. The secret heroine felt her Kwami pat her through her purse on her hip in reassurance.

“Does anybody have a map, anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this? I don’t know if you can tell, but this is me just pretending to know,” Marinette sang slightly louder, looking around as she left the locker room and crossed the courtyard, confident now that no one was paying attention to her. “So where’s the map? I need a clue, ‘cause the scary truth is I’m flying blind… I’m flying blind... I’m flying blind, and I’m making this up as I go...”

Reaching her classroom, Marinette discovered it to be empty. 'Just as well,' she thought, setting her bags down and pulling out her tablet, sketchbook, phone, and earbuds. ‘It's bound to be a long day.'

Feeling inspired, she sat down and opened up her sketchbook to an empty page. She then pulled up the ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ soundtrack on her phone, plugged in her earbuds, and set to work.

Are you interested in reading and writing fanfiction, making fanart or cosplaying/roleplaying for Miraculous? Then the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server is the place for you! Come and join over 1000 other fans as we share, discuss, and have a general good time bonding over the Fandom we all love!

@miraculousfanworks

#you will be found #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #Val tries to write #write val write #spin the record challenge #MLFanworks

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wrennix062 · 5 years ago

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Let's get personal:

• 6 of the songs you listen to most?

You’ll Be Back (Hamilton), Car Radio (TØP Vessel), Soldier Poet King (The Oh Hellos), IDK You Yet (Alexander 23), Lemons (Brye), S.L.U.T (Bea Miller)

• If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Thomas Sanders

• Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

"Her smile faded, her chest tightened, and heavy blanket of anguis smothered her smallest joy."

• What do you think about most?

Whether or not the world exists

• What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Goodnight

• Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

With

• What's your strangest talent?

Uhm, I can identify any bird based on a picture (not that great a talent)

• Girls... (finish the sentence) Boys... (finish the sentence)

Girls are handsome. Boys are beautiful.

• Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Not that I know of

• When was the last time you played the air guitar?

Earlier tonight (i was listening to the phineas and ferb theme song)

• Do you have any strange phobias?

Agoraphobia (fear or large spaces/rooms, I always hated gym class)

• Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

One of those round flat LEGO dots

• What's your religion

I don't have one specific, though I lean towards a philosophy known as the Dao De Jing

• If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Birding

• Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind.

• Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Twenty Øne Pilots

• What was the last lie you told?

That I practiced piano

• Do you believe in karma?

It depends.

• What does your URL mean?

Pidgeon refers to Pidge Gunderson from Voltron Legendary Defender, 11206 is my favorite number

• What is your greatest weakness and strength?

Weakness - Emotions Strength - Music/Art/Writing

• Who is your celebrity crush?

Bex Taylor-Klaus

• Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?

• How do you vent your anger?

Writing angst

• Do you have a collection of anything?

Tiny screwdrivers

• Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Honestly it doesn't really matter. As long as I'm able to talk to them and hear them, I'm good.

• Are you happy with the person you've become?

More or less.

• What's a sound you hate vs a sound you love?

Hate - hail on my window or roof Love - pencil tapping

• What's your biggest "what if"?

What if the world as we know it doesn't exist and we are all living an illusion surrounded by other illusions that act as if they understand reality?

"I think, therefore I am."

• Do you believe in ghosts? What about aliens?

Ghosts, more or less. Aliens, absolutely. There is a vast and ever growing space beyond our knowledge, there is no way we're the only planet capable of harboring life.

• Stick your right arm out. What do you feel first? The same with your left arm.

Right - my nightstand Left - my wall

• Smell the air. What do you smell?

My dogs

• What's the worst place you have ever been to?

A mental hospital, visiting a family member. (No, it wasn't an insane asylum, this family member was dealing with suicidal thoughts and tendencies.)

• Choose - East or West coast?

East.

• Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

I am all genders and none, but of my opposite sex would be Shawn Mendes

• To you, what is the meaning of life?

There is none. You wake up, do things daily, go to sleep, and repeat until you die. You aren't meant to do things differently, some people are just considered better than others and actually make an impact.

• Define Art.

A way for others to interpret an individual's self expression

• Do you believe in luck?

Yes. The universe doesn't treat people the same all the time.

• What's the weather like right now?

It's storming outside, lots of thunder and lightning and rain.

• What time is it?

At the time of writing this question, 12:10 am

• Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

No, I don't drive.

• What was the last book you read?

"The Mysterious Benedict Society"

• Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Absolutely not.

• Do you have any nicknames?

One of my friends refers to me as Remus because I remind her of Remus from Sanders Sides

• What was the last film you saw?

"After The Dark" otherwise known as "The Philisphers"

• What's the worst injury you've had?

Between spraining my wrist and getting a two inch split on my scalp

• Have you ever caught a butterfly?

No, but I have held one and walked with it without it flying away

• Do you have any obsessions right now?

Chemical Engineering, learning Italian, Philosophy

• What's your sexual orientation?

Asexual - Panromantic

• Ever had a rumor spread about you?

Yes

• Do you believe in magic?

Not really, no (but I do believe in the paranormal)

• Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

The only person I know has done me wrong gaslighted me and made me believe it was my fault, so no

• What's your astrological sign?

Aquarius

• Do you save money or spend it?

Depends on if we're talking about video games or real life

• What's the last thing you purchased?

Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha

• Love or Lust?

Lust is fake. I will always and forever choose love

• In a relationship?

Nope

• How many relationships have you had?

Four

• Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

• Where were you yesterday?

At home

• Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

An old toy vault that I got at a book fair

• Are you wearing socks right now?

• What's your favorite animal?

It's between a lion, a snake, or a coral polyp

• What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

Use a super cheesy dad joke, it always makes everyone laugh

• Where is your best friend?

At home

• Give me your top five favorite blogs on Tumblr

Idk I don't really follow any blogs

• What is your heritage?

Italian, Danish, Norwegian, English

• What were you doing last night at 12:00 am?

Writing fanfiction

• What do you think is Satan's last name?

Grovum (don't ask me why)

• Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

I tried, I hated it

• Are you the kind of friend you want to have as a friend?

Not really, no

• You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss told you that if you are late on more time, you get fired. What do you do?

If I'm late all the time, it means I don't wanna be there. I'll search for my dream job, but right now there is an innocent life at stake and I can do something about it.

• You are at the doctor's office and she has just informed you that you have one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone that you're going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I tell my closest family and friends. I want them to be there for me, but if I tell anyone I'm not close with, they will only pity me.

b) I will spend the rest of my time eating chocolate, drinking coffee like it's soup, and blending waffles, because doing something weird is doing something fun.

c) Not at all. Death is an inevitable concept. I would be sad, I would be angry, but I would not be afraid. There isn't a point to being scared of something you can't avoid.

• You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I choose love. Living life without loving another person, whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial, would be torture. And for me, love is the same as trust, but trust is not the same as love.

• What's a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

"Sincerely Me" from Dear Evan Hansen

• What are the last four digits of your cell phone number?

9286

• In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Equality.

• How can I win your heart?

Chocolate, a Ferris wheel ride at night, and accepting my sexual orientation.

• Can insanity have more creativity?

No. Creativity is always in the back of your mind. The same is with darker creativity. Insanity just brings it to the forefront or makes you act on it.

• What is the single best decision you have made in your life?

I decided that self harm doesn't help. I'm glad I did, or I could have landed myself in a hospital.

• What size shoes do you wear?

8 1/2

• What quote would be written on your tombstone?

"Life is a locked door. Death is the key.

Death is a locked door. Life is the key."

• What is your favorite word?

Infinitesimal

• Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word heart.

Red mixed with black and white.

• What is a saying you say a lot?

What can you do when you live in a shoe

• What is the last song you listened to?

"Heavydirtysoul"

• Basic question, what is your favorite color?

Green

• What is your current desktop picture?

Hogwarts castle

• If you could press one button and make anyone in the world explode, who would it be?

*thinks to self* does my sleep paralysis demon count..?

• What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

It's not a matter of which question, it's a matter of who's asking it

• One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn the light on to find you are surrounded by mummies. The mummies arent really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Offer them some toilet paper, maybe they're here because the ones at the supermarket are still sold out.

• You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they grant you a superpower if your choice. What is that power?

Shapeshifting

• You can re-live any point in time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half hour experience would you like to experience again?

My first time watching the first scene in IT.

• You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Fighting with both of my best friends

• You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

None. I'm asexual.

• You just got a free plane ticket anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Venice, Italy

• Do you have any relatives in jail?

• Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Yes

• Ever been on a plane

• If the whole word we're listening to you right now. what would you say?

F**k Donald Trump

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discountalien-pancake · 6 years ago

Note

Can you do a cover review of “The Gilded Wolves” by Roshani Chokshi? And also the “The Dear Evan Hansen” book cover? Thanks! 😀

Gosh, where do I begin with this cover? It’s so…fake-looking. Like, it’s trying very very hard to look realistic but it keeps falling short.

Like, all those identical spirals with their identical lighting, which is weirdly periodic. That curvature should not produce that kind of banded shadow/light. The metal isn’t twisted, just curled, which means it shouldn’t have random shadows like that.

Twisted square wire:

and copper spirals:

Look how consistent the shadows and highlights on the copper spirals. Also note how not every spiral has the EXACT SAME ANGLE of lighting. Compare that to the spirals on the cover. It’s details like this that kill the believability of 3D renders.

And then of course there’s the face that the leaves cast no shadows on the metal, and the metal casts no shadows on the leaves, and why do these cover artists keep forgetting to put in SHADOWS.

This brings me to the fact that the title cuts off the gold scrolls instead of actually being framed by them.

I have ask, why? There’s better ways this could have been done that didn’t result in it looking like you didn’t properly plan for the title and just snipped it to make the words fit. Also note how the scrolls don’t quite connect to the arches. The gold is meant to look like metal fencing but it doesn’t feel right because of all the ways the metal doesn’t quite touch or just ends abruptly.

They should have completed the circle and toned down the shine to let the text stand out. Even better than that, I think, would be if they’d made the metal grate-thing matte black wrought iron, with gold accents aka gilding. That way you can just lay the text over the top without erasing anything, and it’s closer to the actual title anyway. Contrary to popular belief, people will still know it’s gold even if you don’t beat them over the head with it.

The metal flowers are beautiful and very nicely done, and the more I look at them, the more I’m convinced that they were made by someone else and added in separately.

Compositionally, I like the framing, but there’s too much happening around the edges and it’s a huge distraction, especially because of how weird the lighting is on the scrolls. The title also looks stupidly plain because it’s competing with all the gold (BUT IF THE GRATE WAS BLACK THE TEXT COULD BE GOLD). The actual choice of font is fine, although it’s perhaps a little late, period-wise, for the 1890′s.

Overall, 7.5/10, a nice concept but poor execution. As usual, 3D rendering hides a multitude of sins.

#pancake answers #book covers

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ao3feed-kleinsen · 5 years ago

Text

are you real or fake?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MSjjfx

by axl (SharkOfDoom)

(2 new texts from jared kleinman) jared: hey. jared: leave your wife. evan: what? why? jared: join my punk band.

Words: 689, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Evan Hansen, Jared Kleinman, Zoe Murphy (mentioned)

Relationships: Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman

Additional Tags: uhh, band au, they’re adults here, well. you’ll see., comedic mostly, uhh musical never happened

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MSjjfx

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #kleinsen #jansen #dear evan hansen #jared/evan #jared kleinman/evan hansen

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loverholland · 6 years ago

Text

and i remember when i met him.

pairing: tom holland x reader word: 1.9k summary: “Yeah, he has a big mouth. You would have known the second we started dating.” You teased, making Tom roll his eyes and chuckle. i am very aware that this is from a different account. loverholland is now dead and this is my new account. welcome.

And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that / he was the only one for me.

Ellen laughed with Tom as you both sat together. You had been labeled as ‘on-screen sweethearts’ from the way you both looked at each other and how you acted around one another; cuddly and lovingly.

“I have a question for the both of you,” Ellen smiled as Tom reached for his mug on the log coffee table, you hummed in response, letting her go on as Tom moved back to sit his back comfortably against the love seat. Your hand was on top of his, which was on the top of your thigh. The interaction wasn’t unusual but it always erupted butterflies in your stomach.

“Are you two together or just very close friends?” Ellen asked. The question used to make your eyes bulge out of your head but now, you enjoyed the question.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat and smiled softly, looking down at your lap. “No, we’re not. We’re just really close friends.” You looked back up and smiled at the lady in front of you.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed and looked at you, a fond smile on his cheeks, “if we were together, you would know.” He spoke.

“Yeah, he has a big mouth. You would have known the second we started dating.” You teased, making Tom roll his eyes and chuckle.

“Shade! Shade!” Tom laughed before everyone’s giggles died down, “you aren’t wrong, though.” He noted.

“I know.” You agreed before the talk show went on.

We both knew it, right away.

“Y/N! Over here! Y/N!” A photographer shouted as you looked around the red carpet, arm wrapped tightly around Tom while your free hand held a black clutch. You smiled softly and looked up at Tom, a small blush finding its way to your cheeks, but it was expertly hidden by the layers of makeup on your face. You kept the smile on your face as you looked at the group of photographers before moving along. You could hear the sound of your and Tom’s name being yelled out as you walked down the carpet. You were supposed to do a small interview before going into the award show you were invited to, well, at least you were invited. Tom was your plus one.

You had been asked to go to the Tony’s with the cast you were a part of, Waitress. It was an amazing experience and you loved it, even if you were leaving soon to move to London for a few months.

“Y/N, Tom! Great! Hi!” The interviewer smiled, making a fake smile graze your face. “It’s so great to see you two together.” She huffed out, even with a large smile plastered on her face.

“I’m so excited to see you, I saw your performance on Waitress, the other night and I think it was absolutely breathtaking.” She complimented.

“Thank you! That means a lot.” You thanked and leaned into Tom.

“Of course. Has Tom seen you act and sing?” She asked as Tom softly chuckled and squeezed your hip.

“Yeah,” Tom nodded, confirming that he had seen you perform one night. Multiple nights, actually. He had invited RDJ one night and came another night on his own, or the other way around; you weren’t too sure. “She did amazing; I loved watching my favorite girl so something she loves.” A small aw erupted from the interviewer as butterflies flew around your stomach and made your cheeks blush darker now, your heart beating faster.

“He had posted a picture of us the first night he came, I was still in my costume and I was on his back, kissing his cheek. Everyone went crazy.” You giggled as Tom chuckled.

“That they did.” Tom agreed as the interviewer awed again.

And as the years went on, things got more difficult - / we were faced with more challenges. / He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself.

“I can’t just give up the opportunity! I was offered my dream role, Tom.” You argued as Tom shook his head, hands on his thighs as he tried to make them feel less sweaty.

“I get that, but you just moved here!” He bit his lip, it was your turn to shake your head.

“I know but imagine me not doing this role. I will be devastated and I’ll be in New York. I’ll have my old apartment, we can face time and stuff.” You tried to reason but Tom bites his lip again in thought. He wasn’t too sure if he wanted you to go to New York so soon, he wasn’t too sure if he wanted you to leave in general. He liked that he held you every night and that you were always the first one up, making breakfast in one of his shirts and apologizing when you forgot his favorite coffee creamer. He loved the afternoons with you when you would offer to buy lunch but he would always end up buying it, making you pout. How you would drink tea and read a book while classical music played around the room. You would always do a crossword right after before taking a nap and getting up to go to the gym.

He especially loved the nights, when you would be just out of the shower, hair in a towel, face free of makeup. You would have bags under your eyes and he loved it. He loved them. He loved you. He would much rather look at you without makeup than with pounds of it. You would always cook once your hair was dry and ask how his day was; standing at the island with him as he sat in the bar stool. He loved it. He loved when you would change into one of his shirts and how you would beat him to bed, but you would always be singing something as you laid in the bed, lamps turned off and main light off. He would smile, change and go to sleep with you.

“I know it’s your dream role,” Tom paused and took a deep breath, “why can’t you just stay with me for a little while longer?” He questioned, your lips puckering as you thought.

You could stay with him, let him enjoy your company for a little while longer, but they needed you to get to New York as fast as possible so you could start rehearsal for your role as Zoe Murphy in Dear Evan Hansen. You wanted to stay for years but you only had so much time and you loved musical theater as much as you loved Tom, but your job would take your time from him for awhile and then you would get all the time in the world, in this case, a few months after your debut as Zoe, you would leave and travel back to London and you would hug and kiss Tom until your lips were swollen.

“I wish I could.” Y/N responded and frowned going to hug him.

I always got the sense that he became torn / Between being a good person and / Missing out on all of the opportunities that life could / Offer a man as magnificent as him.

“You should take the job!” You mused as you looked at Tom through your computer screen, your fairy lights twinkling in the background. Tom shrugged, not too sure if he should or not. He had been offered a job in a new movie and he didn’t know how it would go. He didn’t know if he could pull it off, but you were practically begging him to do it, to jump into it.

“Maybe.” He simply replied, making you frown.

“You should do it! It would be so much fun!” Y/N simply spoke and he shrugged again, looking up when his name was called.

“I – uh – I have to go. Mum’s calling me to help Harry with something.” Tom murmured making a deep frown plaster on your face, but you nodded and said your goodbye as he logged off. When he was off and the call was disconnected he debated on texting you and saying he didn’t want to take the job because once he started it, you would be back in London. Your two months were almost up and as soon as it was up you were moving back to your shared apartment. He couldn’t wait but he wished you could see the way he looked at you and the way he talked about you when you weren’t around.

Tom: I’m not taking the job. You need someone here when you get back.

Y/N: Don’t worry about me! You deserve to be a big movie star so go and be one! I’ll still be there when you come back.

And with that he bit his lip and locked his phone, going downstairs to his mum.

And in that way I understood him

“Take the job,” Tom repeated as you shook your head. You had been up-all-night arguing. You didn’t want to fly back to the states for another job that you would leave soon. “Why not? You auditioned when you were in New York last time, right? Go and live your dream!” Tom enthused but you shook your head again, letting loose hairs to fall in front of your eyes.

“No point in leaving again.” You murmured. “I’ve lived all of my dreams already; I want to stay here now.” Tom frowned.

“Are you just staying because I’m here?” He asked. You bite your lip, nodding softly. The movements made Tom sigh and rest his hands in his hands.

“Why?”

“Because I do not want to leave you again.” You admitted. “I can work somewhere here. I don’t need to go back to New York. I can stay here.” Tom shook his head and looked at you.

“You have to go back.” He murmured.

“No! I’m staying.” Your voice rose and he bit his lip this time.

“You need to! You’re amazing.”

“I can be amazing here,” you responded.

“Just go!” He urged and you took a deep breath before leaving the room, shaking your head as you went to the shared bedroom.

And I loved him. / I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. / And I still love him. / I love him.

You smiled warmly as Tom held you, his large hands sprawled on your stomach as you guys sat in the park, somewhere in New York.

“It’s beautiful.” He hummed and you nodded, aging with him for the first time in months. “I wish we had more time like this,” Tom whispered and pressed his head to your shoulder as you took another deep breath.

“We could.” You spoke out but Tom shook his head, disagreeing.

“We can’t.” He responded but you rolled your eyes.

“There’s a job opening for a play called ‘Heathers,’” you spoke and Tom slightly lifted himself up, “I got the job as Veronica.” You told him but the excitement you thought Tom would have, wasn’t there. Actually, he seemed upset.

“I’ll be in Canada, shooting.” He muttered and your eyes kind of widened before they shut and you nodded.

“Right, because I told you to.” She whispered and he nodded, his hands going to rest on your thighs before he rested his head on your shoulder.

“We’ll never be a perfect couple.” He whispered as you let out a breathy ‘yeah.’

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x you #mine

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