Insomniac. Feminist. Cynic. Sex Educator. Writer. Master of Gender Studies. Fat blond person. 32. Nonbinary queer transmasc dude. Just a little guy. They/them pronouns. Apparently bionic! Expert at many things, like procrastination and crying! Writer of many fanfictions, including The Desperate Type. If you ask me inappropriate personal questions I'll bark at you like a dog! Happy to be here, I swear.
Evan Hansen has been trying to get himself together. He wants to prove to himself that he can be self sufficient and not crushingly mentally ill. He packs up and moves to New York City, prepared for a city that is every bit as cynical as he is.
But then, there’s a gorgeous guy on Evan’s train. Connor, with his vintage new wave charm and his devastating smile. At first Evan dismisses it as just a fleeting infatuation, one of those public transit daydreams. He’s fallen in love with plenty of strangers for a few moments before. This is nothing.
Until, of course, it isn’t. As they get to know one another, Evan becomes the sort of person who looks forward to his commute because of his subway crush. So, naturally there’s a snag: Connor isn’t someone with a vintage sense of style. He’s literally vintage. Unstuck in time and trapped on the subway.
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Inspired by One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston. Title from “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure.
Had another dream of the elderly southern italian man on that same mediterranean vista sobbing because he never ate a hotdog at an american ballpark. It’s starting to really get to me. He was a lot older this time.