what are your opinions on the DEH ships? (treebros/convan, conguel, kleinsen, galaxygals/zolana, bandtrees/zoevan, kleinphy, etc! any/all you feel like talking about :P)
oo good question okay this might be sorta long idk yet ig we'll see lol (not ordered):
treebros: I don't really like treebros. I mean it's not necessarily bad, but since it's the biggest ship next to zoe and evan it's feels sorta watered down (if that makes sense). also I feel like connor and evan would only be friends because of their dynamic. but again, it's not a bad ship, so overall a 6.5/10
conguel (which I call hawaiian pizza bagels apparently): definitely my favourite like.. canon ship. higher up the list yk? yeah the two of them had their moments but they were just trying to get through life- they're definitely more fit for each other unlike treebros. 8/10 cause it's a ship that makes sense and is underrated
kleinsen: I mean.. it's kleinsen. I like kleinsen but It could go 50/50 depending how you look at it. I don't know if they would be the best or worst couple ever, it's complicated. I see why people ship it cause I'm a sarcastic lil shit so I see the standpoint here but it's questionable too. 7.2/10 for the effort and also because it's the ship I have the most headcanons for
bandtrees/zoevan: nope. its a no from me. I dont like this one. I mean it makes sense why people ship them but in the context of the show, it's a pretty toxic relationship. I think if evan was dating zoe legitimately unlike the connor stuff in the show, they could totally work out... but here we are. 3/10 because the events from deh not happening gives it redeeming points
galaxygals/zolana: I haven't really dabbled into this one, so can't give you much here, BUT I think there's a high high possibility for them two working out, especially after the events of the connor project. I like the idea and I'm for it. 7/10.
kleinphy: only a no because I feel like they would be at each other's throats or dead if they were dating. BUT I do think they could work better than treebros. their love language is straight up bullying each other. 6/10
idk what else there is so take these last two you didn't mention:
kleinguel: it's an interesting concept for sure. its a maybe, but since they have no dynamic at all, they haven't even met, and we don't know a lot about either character theres not much I can say. But and interesting ship nonetheless.. so I'm split 5/10
...zoe and connor: I DIDNT KNOW PEOPLE WERE WEIRD LIKE THAT. THEY ARE SIBLINGS. I SAW ONE TIKTOK ONCE AND NOW I'M FLINGING OFF THE WALLS. -1000000000/10, ABSOLUTELY NOT.
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oooh the ellison theater and/or friendship for the ask game?
OOOOH ELLE you are letting me talk about one of wips that will unfortunately probably never get completed/published but is SO near and dear to my heart. the ellison theater is an au I dreamed up...two years ago at this point? where our beloved cast of deh characters are working in a small blackbox theater in New York in the process of putting on a new original musical titled on the fall. I found the idea of evan struggling so much with most public speaking and performance but just having mt/theater in his veins so captivating, and I thought exploring the idea of him writing and performing in this musical would be very fun. and it very much is! as I said, this is very near and dear to my heart. zoe’s the pov character, as someone who’s on the verge of a breakout role and broadway career but turns it down to work with the ellison crew instead. various zoevan and theater shenanigans ensue. (fun fact: I wrote a whole plot for the musical as well, and mocked up some lyrics for the songs. I have a blast with this fic, truly.) I'm posting...much more than a snippet because, as I've said, I probably won’t post it but I do truly enjoy and love it. thank you Elle <3
Something about the Ellison reminds her of home.
She’s barely set foot into the building that’s nestled on the corner of a block when nostalgia sweeps over her. It’s a feeling she gets every time she enters a theater, no matter how many she’s been in. There’s a kind of magic in each one, no matter what type of theater it is - the knowledge that, within these walls, there’s the possibility for change and growth and transportation to somewhere far away. But this theater strikes her differently than most do. With a building career, the majority of performance spaces she’s seen since graduating are bigger, swankier, dripping with New York theater elitism. She’d nearly forgotten what thrill black box theaters hold, the intimacy of their darkened walls and cramped seats.
The house begins immediately as she steps through the doors with a small area she assumes is reserved for standing room and a small hallway off the side with a bathroom sign hanging in the entrance. The seats branch off diagonally to accommodate the elevated, triangular stage in lieu of the normal black box even-floor stage or raised seating. The front row is so close to the stage that they’d probably be able to reach forward and rest their palms flat against the black-painted stage. The house lights are only half on, leaving Zoe squinting through the dim air and to the stage, where only a few blue gel lights illuminate anything. They leave the whole theater bathed in a faint blue glow and catch on the bowed head of someone sitting in the front row.
It’s all perfectly homey, but she knows she shouldn’t get too attached too soon. Instead, she scuffs the toe of her converse sneaker into the carpeted ground for a moment before turning her attention to the man in the front row. Zoe sees him more clearly as she nears the front of the theater. The spillage from the stage lights cast all of him in a blue shine. The blue nestles in between the strands of his close-cut, tiny curls, and slides along with his hands over a pencil and something that looks like a script.
“Evan Hansen?” she says three rows back, still standing in the center aisle. He visibly startles, the pencil slipping from his grasp and hitting the pages with a tiny thud. Twisting so as to look at her, he hurriedly removes a pair of glasses she hadn’t been able to see before. His eyes find hers, deep brown and gentle like a night sky, before they break away.
“Yeah, yep, Evan. Hansen. That’s me.” He stands while dumping a pile of papers onto the seat next to himself, the motion rushed. Evan swipes his hands over his jeans and then holds his arms by his sides as though he’s grown used to constantly carrying something and is not used to the free space. “Zoe Murphy?”
She slants a smile in his direction. “That’d be me.”
Normally, she’d be much more articulate and particular with her word choice. She’d also be wearing something other than a doodled-on pair of jeans and a t-shirt she got from Forever 21 for four dollars. But it’s been clear to her from the moment she walked into the Ellison - and from when Jared texted her about the part - that this would be nothing like a normal audition. And last-minute meetings don’t really lend themselves to impeccable outfits.
“Great, great, of course,” he says. His hands haven’t stopped moving since she disrupted him. They flit around the hem of his shirt as though looking for something to do. He reaches down to the stack of papers and rummages for a minute, seemingly searching for conversational words among the pages as well. He finds the words more quickly than whatever papers he searches for. “Um, I'm sorry this is on such short notice, well I know we had some communication before today but all the same quite last minute and-” he breaks off as he finally gathers the pages together, glancing towards a clock on the far wall. To himself, he mutters “Jared was supposed to be here by now.”
“It’s alright,” she replies, holding her hand out for the papers. Evan relinquishes them immediately, closing the gap between their outstretched arms and hands with a tiny step. “I’m used to Jared’s tardiness, I know it’s not you. I can wait if you’d prefer.”
“No,” he says, seeming to surprise himself with the word. “No, I mean. I’m sorry, we can absolutely wait for Jared to turn up if that’s more comfortable for you but it’s not, uh, necessary?” His voice lilts upwards at the last moment as though in question, and Zoe can’t help but think that it’s a nice sound.
“Sure,” she says. “I’m comfortable to start whenever.”
“Great,” he repeats. “Uh, that’s the scene-” he gestures to the papers in her hands “-and you can look over it if you’d like a refresher from what Jared sent earlier today. If you could just,” he cuts off, angling his head towards the stage and sinking back into his previous seat. She nods, flipping the pages over and skimming them as she walks. After scaling the short stairs along the side of the stage, she crosses to center, right in front of where Evan sits.
“So,” he continues after a pause. “You’re reading for the role of Alice - as I assume you know, of course.”
The corners of her lips quirk, but she doubts he sees. He’s bent back over his papers.
“I know this was extremely last minute, so you may not have prepared a song - and you also play guitar?”
She’s barely taken aback by the non sequitur. “Yes, although I don’t have one with me currently - I was walking from a shift, actually. I can sing a capella, although I didn’t prepare specifically for this audition.”
“No, of course. I know we have a guitar around here, probably in the back - there’s really not a pit, or any kind of music room, so we’re tight on space for instruments. What song were you...”
“Vanilla Ice Cream?”
He raises an eyebrow, but it seems more friendly than skeptical. “She Loves Me. A classic. Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.”
She has to hum through the refrain before she can begin. The acoustics in the theater are different from what she’s used to - not bad, not bad at all. But a little more naturally amplified and bouncy than she had been expecting. Zoe has this song down to a T, however. It was the first song she’d ever learned how to play with space on a stage with, something she’s grown more adept at as years pass. She knows that her 24-year-old version is quite different from her version more than ten years previously, but all the same, she can comfortably perform it in a completely new space.
Evan’s probably seen it in auditions a thousand times, of course, but he seems properly engaged, laughing at the right moments and smiling as she holds the high note towards the end.
“Fantastic,” he mutters, noting something on a fresh blank page in front of him.
“I suppose you’ll have to take me at my word for the guitar, though.”
“And Jared.”
“Of course. And the ever-elusive Jared.”
They lock eyes for half a second in the dim theater, eyes filled with amusement over a mutual friend although they’re strangers to each other. Evan clears his throat and looks back towards his notes.
“Right, sorry about him. If you’re ready, we could move on to…”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Zoe says, retrieving her script from the edge of the stage, a previously uncharted sensation in the pit of her stomach.
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