#anyway anatomy class episode is possibly my new favorite

[blookmallow]

“I don’t think your-......tooth apple has a place in our artifact storage,” 

i m losing my MIND 

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #4: Stupid For You

Words: ca. 6,100 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: None

Anna adjusts her car visor to block out as much of the sun as possible. Just because the weather feels nice enough to keep her windows down, doesn’t mean she’ll allow the sun cook her through the windshield.

It’s 2:25 PM on a Friday. Back in college, she would have been powering through her final class of the week, racing back to her dorm on her longboard, changing into her pajamas, and replaying the entire Mass Effect trilogy for the fifth time. Now, she spends it idling in the parking lot of West Arendelle Elementary, breathing in exhaust fumes from other idling cars, and pitifully swiping through a dating app.

And to be honest, she might like this routine a little more.

But only because, in a couple of minutes the bell will ring and her favorite ten-year-old will burst through the front doors, skip down to her car, and tap on the passenger windows with both hands.

Not that…she knows any other ten-year-olds, she only knows this one. She doesn’t have like a top ten list of favorite children.

Anyway yeah.

Anna presses against the corner of a parking sticker peeling off at the bottom of her windshield, knowing she’ll have to get a new one soon. The sound of her phone buzzing grabs her attention, and a little bit of hope rises in her as she checks the notification. Unfortunately, it’s just a text from her mother saying not to park behind her when she gets back home.

Anna grumbles, “I swear there’s like zero lesbians in this entire freaking city.”

She’s saved from her petty lamenting by the forementioned bell, and suddenly the barren entrance of the elementary school is buzzing with activity as children pour out of the doors in droves. Some are running, some are walking slowly with their group of friends, but only one of them is skipping.

Or at least Anna could only see one skipping since she wasn’t focusing on any other kid.

Gleefully making her way to Anna’s car is a little girl in a bright-blue skirt, a clean white polo, and a messy braid. Her hands are clutching the straps of her glittery backpack and her lunch box is hanging on for dear life around her neck.

Serah Langford, the self-proclaimed “cooliest” ten year-old in Arendelle.

Serah predictably taps her knuckles against the passenger window and Anna rolls it down. “What’s the password?” she asks.

“Fart Sniffer,” Serah says confidently.

Anna shakes her head, “That was last week’s password. What’s this week’s?”

Serah looks off in the distance and purses her lips. A second later, she says, “Alright I said it!”

“Say it out loud.”

Serah rolls her eyes and says in a dramatically bored voice, “Anna de Milo is the greatest, prettiest, most wonderful babysitter in the world and deserves a million dollars.”

Anna unlocks the door and grins, “That’s the one!”

The embarrassed fourth-grader shuffles into the car, placing her bag by her feet, her lunch box in her lap, and her phone plugged into the AUX cord. Anna would be offended if they didn’t have the exact same taste in music.

A babysitting job wasn’t at the top of her list after she graduated, but when months passed and she exhausted all the search results for “Writer” on Indeed, she was starting to get desperate. Her mother advised her to look for any job so at the very least she could have a steady source of income while she continued to look for writing gigs.

That’s when she found Bizzybee.

Bizzybee is a company that prides itself on being “Tinder for babysitters”, which is a horrible vision statement but she kept from mentioning that during her interview. After a surprisingly long assessment process, Anna was placed into their system and she was free to take on any babysitting/housesitting job she wanted based on the profile of the parent and their needs. Everyone started with the same hourly rate, but with enough good reviews she would be eligible for raises.

The first five families she worked for weren’t a good fit for different reasons (one of the fathers actually tried to make a move on her, which is an entirely different, creepier story). She was beginning to lose hope until she stumbled on the profile of a recently divorced mother named Elsa Langford.

From the very first interview with Elsa, Anna knew she’d finally found the right babysitting job for her. She and Serah hit it off right away, and they worked out a Monday-Friday schedule which allowed Anna to continue searching for jobs while still getting great hours.

Six months later and, despite a couple of job offers, Anna decided to stay on as Serah’s babysitter. It was risky and not at all the path she set out for herself after college, but she found herself enjoying babysitting much more than she thought she would. And because of that, she stayed.

Well…that, and another reason.

Anna snuck a peek inside the lunch box at a red light and frowned at the unopened bag of cookies inside. “Seriously?! I thought you liked Chips Ahoy!”

“Only the chewy ones,” Serah argued.

“They can get chewy if you dip them in milk.” Anna waved the bag obnoxiously close to the little girl’s face. “These things are expensive, you know.”

“They’re $20 on Amazon if you buy them in bulk.”

“$20 is still a lot of money.” The light’s turned green, so Anna has to open the bag with her teeth. When she does so successfully, she pours a couple of the cookies right into her mouth. Chewing with righteous indignation, she says, “You know what you can buy with $20?”

“Dinner with my mom?”

Anna almost chokes on the cookies.

She hears Serah giggling up a storm while handing her a water bottle to keep from dying. After downing half the bottle, Anna takes a deep breath and gets back into the center of her lane to ensure neither of them is going to die. “Serah! What did I tell you about saying that kinda stuff while I’m driving?!”

Serah bounces proudly in her seat, “Well maaaaybe if you didn’t have a crush on my mom, I wouldn’t have to bring it up.”

“It’s not…I’m not…” Anna slumps in her chair, wondering why she even bothers denying it. “Whatever.”

Yes, she has a big, stupid gay crush on the mom of the kid she’s babysitting. But have you seen Elsa Langford? She’s gorgeous. Pale skin, light blonde hair always in a neat, tight ponytail, eyes like calm pools of water, and a killer body she worked tirelessly on after giving birth to Serah. Anna had to drink three glasses of water just to get through the interview with her.

But there’s nothing to it, and nothing’s gonna happen anyway. It’s just a crush.

A stupid, dumb, big, stupid, fleeting, doesn’t-mean-anything, stupid crush on a stupid, sexy mom.

It’s stupid.

[Line Break]

Anna pulls right into the driveway of the Langford’s small, one-story house. It’s in the middle of a long suburbian row of houses that look nearly identical in their mundanity, but this one always stands out to Anna. Not because she’s been to this house countless times, but also because it’s got a vibrant feel to it; like you can feel two main characters live here. Serah skips over to her front door with Anna close behind. She notices the grass is getting a little tall and wonders if Elsa might need some help mowing it this weekend.

She unlocks the front door and Serah immediately takes off her shoes by the front door, places her lunch box on the kitchen table, and hums to herself while she walks to her room. The schedule used to be on the fridge, but by this point Anna’s memorized it.

Make a light snack for Serah, help her with her homework before dinner’s done, clean around the house (that’s not a requirement, Anna just does it), make sure she doesn’t watch the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix yet, and then kick back until Elsa gets home. In between this time, Serah continues to tease her about her crush.

It’s been like that for weeks now, ever since Serah stole her phone one day and read the text Kristoff sent to her about Elsa. The subsequent conversation about what a “MILF” was didn’t exactly help things either.

This time, however, is different. Around 7 PM, while they’re watching an episode of American Ninja Warrior, Serah says something that doesn’t sound like a joke.

“She’d say yes, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Anna asks cautiously.

“If you asked my mom out, she’d say yes.”

Unsure of how she’s supposed to react, Anna goes with an uncomfortable snort/laugh, “Wh- stop it. Stop kidding around, that’s…that’s silly.”

Serah shrugs like she didn’t say something crazy, and then she proceeds to say something even crazier, “She talks about you all the time.”

“Well yeah, I mean duh. I’m the babysitter,” Anna says like that’s supposed to be her superhero identity.

“No, she doesn’t talk about babysitting stuff.”

Finally, unable to help her curiosity, Anna asks, “What does she talk about then?”

Of course, she doesn’t get a chance to hear the answer. The front door unlocks and the woman they were just talking about arrives from work. Serah rushes to greet her mom and Anna stays sitting to let them spend their mother-daughter time together. And also because, like usual, she’s trying to figure out how to greet Elsa.

She decides on a cheerful “Hi!” followed by asking how work went; it’s casual and unassuming, but shows she cares about her. With that game plan prepared, she takes a quick breath, stands up, and walks over to the happy, little family.

“Hi!” she says with a practiced wave of her hand, though her voice is a little higher pitched than she’d like it to be.

Elsa’s clearly tired by the look of her, but when she smiles at Anna it feels like she’s genuinely happy to see her. Which of course makes Anna’s stomach do backflips, especially when Elsa walks over to her and gives her a hug. Even after taking off her heels, the exhausted banker still has a couple of inches on her.

“How are you?” she asks with her sweet, caring voice.

Anna tries to ignore the faint, flowery scent of perfume on Elsa’s neck, and the intrusive thought of wanting to hold her until all of Elsa’s troubles melt away. “Doing good,” she finally answers with her voice still an octave too high.

Elsa pulls away far too soon, keeping Anna at arm’s length while the younger woman is trying her best to pretend she doesn’t want to know how those lips would feel against hers. “Well let me write you a check and you can head out.”

What? No! Thinking fast, she replies, “No, you look exhausted. You can just rest, you don’t need to pay me right away.” Which is a lie, she has bills due next week.

“No I’d feel terrible if I let you go empty-handed. Trust me, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Ms. Langford, it’s okay. I’m in no rush tonight. Give yourself a minute to breathe, at least.”

Elsa frowns, but whatever she’s about to say gets interrupted by a long yawn. “Okay fine, if you can give me half an hour, I’ll have your check ready by then.”

“Sounds perfect!” Anna squeaks.

“And again, you don't have to call me Ms. Langford. Elsa’s fine.”

Elsa pats her on the shoulder and walks over to her room, Anna gets a glimpse of it before the door shuts and she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be in Elsa’s room one day. Her shameful thought is interrupted by someone bumping her hip.

She looks down and sees Serah with a smug grin on her face.

“Oh hush,” Anna says.

[Line Break]

Anna hates taking breaks, and she especially hates days off. Not just because that’s one less day she gets to see Elsa, but also because that’s who she is as a person. Days she isn’t working provide zero structure, and she forgets how to be a human being without a structure.

The weekends, then, are a tumultuous time for her. If she doesn’t have pre-made plans with her friends, she’ll spend the days thinking about doing everything, inevitably end up doing nothing, and then dragging herself out of the house to do something.

This particular Saturday, that “something” happens to be grocery shopping. With a list that only has “Eggs?” on it, she ventures through every single aisle, wondering if she could get herself hungry enough to buy whatever she’s currently looking at.

So far, aside from the eggs, there’s only one other thing in her cart. And it’s not even for her.

“Pop-Tarts…I don’t know, they might sound good later.” She reaches to grab a box of the frosted strawberry ones but waves it off at the last second. Maybe the next aisle will have something she thinks absentmindedly as her cart almost hits the person in front of her.

Who somehow happens to be Elsa.

“Hi! Hey! Wow hi!” Anna says while Elsa looks at her like she’s genuinely startled. “H-hey there, Ms. Langford.”

After registering that the person yelling at her isn’t a threat, Elsa smiles. “Anna! It’s so wonderful to see you.” She looks as if she’s going to take a step towards Anna, but changes her mind at the last second.

Unfortunately, Anna took that as a cue to also step forward and didn’t move back fast enough. So now, she’s just standing between both carts like she’s commandeering both. “I-I didn’t know you went grocery shopping. Here, I mean. I’m sure you shop, but like…I live near here. Like five minutes away actually.”

Elsa chuckles, and honestly it sounds like honey-dipped guitar strings. But less sticky, and more sexy. “Well I was in the area dropping Serah off to her karate lesson, so I figured I might as well do some shopping while I wait.”

Right, Serah started her lessons last week. She told Anna that she was super excited about “getting to punch bricks and stuff”. Still unsure if she should move yet, Anna adds, “Well I like this place a lot. It’s like one of my top ten places to be- to go. Maybe top five.”

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind,” Elsa grins like she really is happy to have run into her. She shifts her gaze down and remarks, “Oh, that’s a really nice chopping board.”

Oh. Right. The chopping board’s…still in her cart. Anna lifts it up and holds it like she’s showing off the finest new features in chopping board technology. “Yeah thanks, it’s on sale actually.”

“That’s good news, I’m looking to replace the one we have. I’m tired of scraping plastic off my chicken when I’m cutting it.” Anna knows this, of course, because Elsa’s muttered it to herself every time she’s in the kitchen. “Which aisle did you find that in?”

Forgetting why she has the chopping board in the first place, Anna holds it out and says, “Oh it’s okay, you can just have this one?”

“Are you sure? Don’t you need it?”

Now remembering why she has it, Anna shamefully pulls it away, “Yes. I mean no. No I don’t, I don’t need it. It’s in my cart, but I don’t need it.”

Elsa’s eyes narrow, “I-I’m sorry, I’m confused.”

Well this is happening. And it’ll be even more awkward to explain things if she shows up with the chopping board on Monday. She sighs, finally admitting defeat, “I…I heard you mention you needed a new chopping board, so I wanted to get one for you. This one, actually. This is the one I was going to buy. And then give it to you on Monday.”

Elsa goes from confused to flattered in a second, and much like all of her expressions there’s an inarguable authenticity to it. There’s no exaggerated gasp or a drawn-out “Awww”, instead there’s a smile that could melt a million hearts and a casual touching of Anna’s upper arm.

“I knew I picked a good one,” Elsa says, oblivious to the screaming and fireworks occurring in Anna’s head.

“Ah, i-it’s nothing really. I’m using my paycheck, so in a way you’re buying it yourself haha,” Anna tries to laugh but she squeaks like someone’s just pumped her full of helium.

“Nonetheless, you’ve helped lift so much stress off your shoulders and I want to show how much I appreciate you.” Elsa straightens up a little and looks at the frazzled redhead curiously, “What do you think about coffee?”

“You mean like a coupon?” Anna shakes her head. “I mean a gift card?”

Elsa opens her mouth to respond, but another thought seemingly goes through her head and she purses her lips. A second later, she smiles again, “Yes. Like a gift card. Young people still drink Starbucks, right?”

Anna scoffs, “Ms. Langford, you’re only nine years older than me.”

“And yet you still insist on calling me ‘Ms. Langford’, which always makes me feel much older than I actually am.”

A ton of bricks falls on Anna as she realizes her grave mistake. “Oh my goodness, Ms. La- ah I mean I uh…I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I mean that wasn’t my intention. You’re young, a-and beautiful, and still in your prime. No you haven’t even reached your prime yet! If I made you feel like you weren’t, I’m-”

She’s silenced by the feel of Elsa’s hand coming to rest on…her shoulder? Well that’s new. And exciting. Anna focuses half of her mind on calming down and the other half on what Elsa’s saying.

“Relax Anna, it was just a joke. You can call me whatever you want.” Though Elsa’s voice is reassuring, her smile has a glint of proud mischief from catching her off-guard. “I’m not about to police my favorite babysitter on what words she can use.”

Anna tries to speak but finds her throat too dry. She clears it and tries again, “Really? I’m your favorite babysitter? You’re not just saying that?”

“I went through far too many babysitters before I found you,” Elsa lets out a breathy laugh, eyes glancing to the side as if she’s remembering back to the years she’d had to find the right fit to take care of Serah. Anna wonders what makes her so different from the others, but thinks that’s too invasive to ask. “You’re the best.”

The casual yet loaded compliments and the feel of Elsa’s fingers so close to her bare skin combine to create a dangerous, stomach-churning reaction in Anna. One that sets all her impulses alight, screaming at her to kiss Elsa.

Before she even has the chance to compose herself, Elsa’s already pulled away and is back by the safety of the handrails on her cart. “Well I think I’ve used up enough of your time this weekend. And besides, I need to find something for dinner tonight. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

Anna blinks, still trying to register things that happened five minutes ago. “Uh yeah, no problem. Sounds great,” she replies without knowing what she’s saying.

Elsa smiles at her and turns the corner, disappearing from direct sight. After an eternity of standing at the end of the aisle like an idiot, Anna groans and covers her face with her hands.

“Stupid,” she mumbles to herself.

[Line Break]

“The evil scientist shouted, ‘This ain’t over, Super Gal! One day-”

Anna presses the buzzer she bought at a dollar store. “There’s no such thing as the word 'ain’t’,” she corrects.

Serah groans, “You’re the worst.”

“You asked a girl with an English degree for help with your story. What did you expect would happen?” Anna taps against the table like an evil villain.

’“I didn’t expect you to not go easy on-”

Anna presses the buzzer again. “Double negative!”

“I’m not even writing!” Serah protests.

“My buzzer, my rules.”

The sound of the front door opening interrupts them bickering like long-lost sisters. Instead of running over to greet Elsa by the door, Serah shouts with exasperation, “Moooom! Anna’s being a jerk!”

“Well that’s what happens when you ask an English major to look over your story, honey,” Elsa replies.

Anna gives Serah a smug grin, the little girl sticks her tongue out in response. Elsa joins them at the dinner table, the tiredness on her face is less concerning tonight but Anna catches her wince when she sits down.

“You okay?” she asks.

Elsa smiles, “Fell off a ladder at work.”

“Oh my gosh, how bad does it hurt? I could-” Anna has to take a pause to let the unhelpful thought of massaging Elsa’s back go away. “-get you some ibuprofen or an ice pack.”

“Thank you, Anna, but I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning once I sleep it off. After all, I’m not even in my prime yet.” Elsa winks at her, and Anna has to pretend her insides haven’t turned to jelly.

“Is this like that time you fell in the bathroom while trying to pull your pants up?” Serah asks.

“Serah!” Elsa hides her face in her hands, though it’s still possible to tell the remorse she feels through her voice. “Why did I even tell you that story?”

Serah feigns innocence and shrugs, “Because I’m your daughter and you like telling me things?”

Elsa sticks her tongue out in response and it’s much cuter than it has any right to be. Unable to help herself, Anna asks, “Are you sure I can’t do anything for you? I mean like with your back…or whatever.”

Elsa rests her head against one of her hands and doesn’t try to hold back the tiredness in her smile this time. “You’re very sweet, Anna, but I’ll be okay. Just need some rest.” She mumbles afterward, “And a vacation…”

Anna lets her mind wander for a second, thinking of what it would feel like to take Elsa somewhere she could unwind. Like to a spa, or a lake. Elsa feels like the kind of person who finds solitude near water. In her mind, she sees Elsa in a baby blue sundress and a wide brim hat, looking out at the crystal clear waters from a creaky, wooden dock. She sees herself walking down the same dock and Elsa turning to her with a smile, holding a hand out and beckoning her to come over.

“What do you think, Anna?”

The wishful thought dissipates, and Anna’s pulled back into reality by a question she’s not ready for. “Sorry, I was uh…thinking of a story idea. What were you guys talking about?”

Thankfully not asking where Anna’s mind was really at, Elsa repeats herself, “Serah was wondering if you wanted to go to her play tomorrow.”

“I’m playing a tree!” Serah says proudly.

This invitation comes as a wonderful surprise. Serah’s been hyping this play up for forever, but Anna always assumed she would want Elsa to be there. “Oh, I…did something happen? Can you not make it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare miss seeing my little girl play the part of Tree #2. But I really-”

Serah clears her throat obnoxiously loud.

“Right. We would really love it if you came. Tickets are free, but they’ll be selling popcorn and soda for $2.”

“You can sit next to my mom!” Serah adds, and her failed blink shows she knows exactly what she’s implying. It feels odd having a ten-year-old be her wing woman, but Anna’s learning to roll with it.

“No pressure, though,” Elsa says while wringing her hands together. “It’s on a Friday night, and I know you might already have plans.”

“I don’t,” Anna responds far too fast.

Elsa’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh. Then do you want to go?”

The chance to sit next to Elsa for an hour in a dark auditorium? Anna would be an idiot to pass that opportunity up. And it isn’t lost on her that it felt like Elsa was about to say she would personally love it if she went.

“Sure, I’d love to go.”

[Line Break]

Far too many questions are still punching Anna in the brain as she pulls into West Arendelle Elementary’s parking lot and walks towards the auditorium. Should she have eaten something beforehand? Is she overdressed? Is she underdressed? Should she have texted Elsa to coordinate outfits? What if this is all some elaborate prank to make fun of her for her stupid mom crush? Did she sweat through her shirt? Is it noticeable?

Her crazy thoughts are interrupted by her phone buzzing. She pulls it out of the back pocket of her jeans and sees it’s a text from Elsa. She’s waiting by the door so they can find some seats together.

Well, that eases her worry about trying to find Elsa in a crowded auditorium. Though crowded might be an understatement. It’s a fourth-grade play, not an opera at The Met.

Once inside, Anna takes a second to admire the impressive renovations of what used to be a musty, old gymnasium (they even put in carpets and sound dampeners). But she’s not here to appraise this place, she’s here to root for her favorite fourth grader/tree and keep the ogling of Elsa to a minimum-

Holy baloney, Elsa’s wearing a dress.

It’s got blue-and-white stripes, short sleeves, and a similar colored waist sash. And instead of her hair being in a tight ponytail, the nearly silver locks fall across her shoulders and down her back.

It’s casual, it’s cute, it’s gorgeous, it’s beautiful, and it’s a stark reminder of how absolutely smitten Anna is.

“I was getting worried you might not show up,” Elsa says with a smile akin to the one she showed off at the grocery store.

Up close, Anna also notices a thin, snowflake necklace around Elsa’s slender neck and she’s already failed in keeping her ogling to a minimum. “You can always trust me to keep my promises, Ms. Langford,” she says with a goofy grin meant to reflect something called confidence.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Elsa responds.

Feeling like she has to mention it, and also because her brain’s still currently fried from seeing an angel, Anna adds, “You look beautifuller. I-I mean not like fuller, I just mean you look more beautiful than usual. Oh gosh, not that you usually look bad because you don’t. You never look bad, you’re-”

Elsa lays a hand on Anna’s shoulder again, which might as well be her reset button. “Anna, do me a favor and take a breath.”

Anna takes a breath.

“Good job. Now let’s go find some seats, okay?”

Anna follows her, too caught up on the feeling of being told she did a good job.

They find a spot at the end of an aisle and close enough to the stage that Serah will be able to find them without looking too hard. Elsa takes the seat on the left, Anna takes the seat on the right. They don’t start talking again right away, not until the conversations all across the auditorium become a blanket of white noise.

And then Elsa lets out a breath, “This feels nice.”

Anna turns to her and notices her eyes are closed, but she still commits to perfect posture so it looks like she’s meditating. “What do you mean?” Anna asks.

“Being…present. Not having to rush to make dinner or beat traffic or anything like that. It feels nice to have a break and just be.”

Anna finds it hard to understand what constitutes this as a break, but then again she isn’t a mother. And she doesn’t know much about what it means to take a break anyway.

Elsa tilts her head like she’s about to rest it on Anna’s shoulder, but instead, she turns to look at her. “Thank you again.”

“For the chopping board?”

“For the chopping board, for taking care of Serah, for being someone I can trust…for everything. It’s hard to- I mean you know it hasn’t been easy for me relationship-wise.”

Anna nods. Learning about Elsa’s divorce and her subsequent failed relationships was a part of why she took this job in the first place. She sympathized with the single mother and knew even then that Elsa could really use someone to have her back too.

“So thank you, for being my…the person I needed through all this. My knight in shining armor.”

The lights haven’t dimmed yet, so she needs to hope the blush on her cheeks isn’t too noticeable. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too wide, and then says, “Well, outstanding service is the Bizzybee guarantee.” It’s supposed to be a playful joke, but Elsa doesn’t seem to take it as such.

She frowns, “Do you really only see this as a job?”

This is different, but it doesn’t feel like a good different. Elsa doesn’t usually look like she’s staring into her soul, and she hasn’t asked anything this personal since the initial interview. To Anna, the answer is obvious, but she’s also caught up on wondering what answer Elsa wants to hear. If she says the wrong thing, will she lose her job? What’s the right thing to say? When did it get so warm? And is that citrus she smells in Elsa’s hair? Gosh, why is she so weird?

Shrinking further underneath Elsa’s stone-cold curiosity, Anna finally decides to approach this with honesty. “No,” she starts far too softly. “No, I think I would probably do anything for you…r family. You mean a lot to me. Y-you and Serah, I mean.”

She really hopes that doesn’t sound like a confession. The last thing she wants to do is get fired and have to run out of an elementary school auditorium in tears.

A soft, warmth presses against her hand that’s been resting on her seat. Anna looks down and sees Elsa’s hand on top of where hers should be. If this is a dream, then she never wants to wake up.

“Thank you for saying that,” Elsa replies just as softly.

Finally, the lights dim and the principal is on the stage talking about how hard the fourth-graders have worked on this rendition of The Giving Tree. And maybe it means nothing, but Elsa still hasn’t pulled away. Anna pushes away the thought of her own hand being too sweaty, and the notion that this could be a fulfillment of her craziest wish. Right now, she just tries to enjoy the feeling.

Serah turned out to be an excellent Tree #2.

[Line Break]

Next Monday, everything falls apart.

Or at least that’s what it feels like is going to happen when Elsa gets back from work and immediately asks Serah to go to her room so they can talk alone.

Anna’s never seen her this distraught before. Her ponytail is poorly put together, she’s not wearing any makeup, and there’s a coffee stain below her collar. When she asks if she can do anything to help, Elsa’s response is a quick but harsh, “No.”

She stiffens up. “Oh. O-okay, I’m sorry.”

Elsa shakes her head, places her hand on top of one of the kitchen chairs, but then pulls back like it’s hot to the touch. “Could we maybe sit on the couch?”

Right now, Elsa could tell her to cut off her hand and Anna would do it. She nearly trips walking the five feet from the kitchen to the living room couch, and tries to take up the least amount of space as possible when she sits down. Elsa sits on the far side, clutching a pillow to her chest with her mind probably anywhere else but here.

It’s not a good sight, and Anna’s not only worried about the safety of her job, but Elsa’s condition. She purses her lips to keep from saying anything stupid, and hopes this isn’t the horrible nightmare she’s expecting it to be.

Elsa closes her eyes tight, “I’m afraid I have to let you go, Anna.”

Anna completely deflates. Had she not been expecting this, it would have come as a greater shock to her. But when she pushed her luck at the play by trying to hold Elsa’s hand…she knew her days as a babysitter were numbered. “I understand,” she says sadly.

“I don’t think you do,” Elsa replies, quickly turning to look at Anna. Her eyes look like they’re pleading with her, like she doesn’t want to do this. “You were amazing, and I will give you the best endorsement for any job you apply for. But after the play-”

“I know. I was out of line.”

There’s a tense, awkward second of silence where the two women are looking at each other with equal levels of guilt and remorse. Though their reasons are vastly different. Elsa sighs and places the final nail in the coffin, “No, you weren’t.”

…what?

“Anna, I wanted you to hold my hand.”

What?

“You did?” Anna asks, trying her best to curb her optimism. This can’t possibly be going the way she thinks it is.

Elsa nods, “I’m not- well okay, first of all, I don't want to fire you. Serah, she thinks of you as her big sister, and the thought of separating you two tears me up. But this needs to happen because I…having you around…I feel something for you.”

“Feel something?” Maybe someday she’ll be able to say more than two sentences again.

Again, Elsa closes her eyes. A sternness falls on her face which Anna can tell she’s had to use a lot “Say it out loud,” Elsa mutters.

“What’s wrong?”

One agonizing moment later, Elsa reopens her eyes, and the guilt in them has worsened. “I-I’m attracted to you, Anna, and it’s getting to me. Really bad. I can’t sleep without thinking of you, I got a ticket for speeding a couple of weeks ago because I couldn’t wait to get home to you and Serah, and when you held my hand? Gosh, I felt something I never felt with anyone I’ve ever been with. I have feelings for you, and I have to let you go before I do something I might regret.”

She’s not dreaming, Anna knows that for sure because there’s no weird fog around her and Elsa doesn’t have a horse head. Yet she still can’t wrap her mind around the fact that this is happening.

Elsa Langford, the most beautiful mom- hell, the most beautiful woman- she’s ever known has just confessed she has feelings for her.

But she has to know for certain, so she finally musters up the lucidity to ask more than two words. “Do you really mean that?”

Elsa laughs. But it’s not a “gotcha” laugh, it’s a deeply embarrassed, caught-in-the-act laugh Anna’s far too familiar with. “Yes. I like you a lot.”

That’s all the confirmation she needs. With all the social grace of a bowling ball tumbling down the stairs, Anna responds. “I like you a lot too. Like attractively, I-I mean romantically.”

Elsa’s eyes widen, “Really?”

Anna shows off her expertly crafted awkward laugh. “Of course! You’re sweet, caring, and you’re so beautiful I bet a potato sack would look good on you. When I look at you or even think of you, I just see like rainbows and flutes and warm stuff like blankets or bedrooms- I uh, I mean like…soup. It was just a stupid crush at first, but honestly I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strongly for anyone before. Elsa, you’re a dream come true.”

Elsa’s pale complexion makes the redness that appears on her cheeks much brighter and more beautiful than Anna could ever imagine. This magical moment…it’s something she’ll always cherish and will never forget.

“I love the way you say my name,” Elsa says quietly.

“It’s a very pretty name,” Anna adds.

“Gosh, just kiss each other already!” Serah shouts from the hallway.

They talk for another hour. Despite the looming threat of being fired disappearing, Anna still agrees it’s best she stops working for Elsa. There’s now a conflict of interest, and the last thing they want is for either of them to get in trouble. Which means it’s back to job hunting. On the bright side, however, Anna can now come over whenever she wants so Serah will still have her “big sister”.

As for her and Elsa, they both agree to take things slow to make sure they won’t drive each other crazy. In a bad way, obviously. They both have big, stupid crushes on each other, but with Elsa’s track record for relationships and Anna’s overall social awkwardness, it’s clear that attraction will only get them so far. They have to work for this, if this was something to work for. Nonetheless, they remain optimistic and their first date is set for next week.

Elsa just needs to find a babysitter first.

[cowboylikedean]

folklermore spn finale: the last great american dynasty

Okay so this post took forever to write for a couple reasons. 

First of all, this one is special in that it has two readings for my grief.

The first one is terrible and heartbreaking and honestly I don’t want to spend a lot of time on it. I see Andrew Dabb as THE great villain of Supernatural, and he truly had a marvelous time ruining everything. The sarcastic nature of the song goes in to speak to the fact that I feel legitimately crazy for how much I blame him. It’s sad and heartbreaking. I think about it sometimes when i hear this song and instantly force myself to stop thinking about it and go back to the other view. 

So the other view is more what you might expect with the vibe of the song... but it is SO HARD for me to put into words, I found. So I’m sorry if this is messy and disjointed and all over the place. 

I spoke in cardigan’s post about how I’m not the fan the show wanted and there’s a large part of the narrative in the folkermore-spn-finale feelings for me that expresses not being the fan the narrative wanted or needed.... Most of the time this is brought up in this, it’s angry, or sad, or whatever... but this time... this time it celebrates it.

I had a marvelous time ruining everything.

Putting this under a cut because it’s very long. I didn’t mean for this to get this long rip.

I let myself sink into the feelings of wonder and awe I felt when I first fell in love with the show and then let myself find the conclusion that IF I did in fact “ruin everything” (aka the show) by not being the fan the show needed me to be to enjoy it, at least I had a good fucking time!

From that first bit where Taylor sings that Rebekah’s salt box house took her mind of St. Louis.... Supernatural took my mind off my life too. I remember when I first watched the show, I was 20 and I’d just failed out of school (the first time). I was lying to my mother and her husband (who I lived with) about going to school. I rode the city bus at the time because I didn’t have my license yet. I’d leave the house and say I was going to the bus stop down the street. Instead, I hid in the woods that separated my neighborhood from my grandfather’s back yard. I worked at his house “after school” every day from 4-6, taking care of his house, doing light cleaning and cooking, helping him adjust to being a double amputee so it worked out nice. Every night I pre-loaded 5 hours of episodes on my computer so I didn’t need the internet and every day I would sit in the cold on a log and put my computer on a slightly bigger log and curl up in my warm coat for a day of Supernatural before heading inside to Pappou’s house at 4. Sometimes, I just waited until the afternoon when I knew my mom would be gone and I could go home where it was warm and I had wifi. Sometimes though I got wrapped up and I just stayed there.. all day. 

Supernatural is, what I would consider, one of the last great american TV shows. Like... It’s right there with Grey’s Anatomy as the last TV shows that have an actual following where people watch it and it’s a thing that haven’t been corrupted by the streaming world. Television is so important to me, it’s my favorite medium of storytelling and it’s been lost. Streaming destroyed it. People say we’re living in a “golden age” because there’s “so much good TV” but there’s NOT! What we have is high production quality on a lot of mini-series and long-format movies that have been randomly split up into “episodes” but don’t make sense if you space them out in any way. The episodic serial format of television has been LOST and that’s heartbreaking... 

But to me... this song... it’s about The Last Great American TV Show, The Last Great American Fandom, The Last Great American Dynasty over my life, my fandom, my relationship with tv, and my world view. 

The line “How did a middle class divorcee do it?” also just... First of all there’s something so distinctly American about it... We all know Supernatural is itself a sort of lover letter to Americana... it’s the aesthetic of Nowhere USA which is part of what makes it so effective and heartbreaking. The line in the song is about how Rebekah was just... boring, average, a little sad. Someone unremarkable you feel a little pity for. That’s the Nowhere USA of the aesthetic of the show... THAT’S the heartbeat of “Americana.” It’s boring, average, unremarkable, a little sad, you kinda pity it, it shouldn’t be that deep, but it is. It’s when the unremarkable accomplishes the remarkable. And that’s the whole myth they fed us as kids, isn’t it? I could never explain the beauty of this line inside or outside the context of Supernatural to someone who isn’t US American so I’ll just stop trying... but it’s just kljasfkd 

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that first stanza in the first verse... When I fell in love with Supernatural, I was boring unremarkable, a little sad... and the show was a wealth of possibilities... but also I was at a point where I was getting over the main fandom I’d had for the past year and a half (Buffy) and I had just fallen in love with Sherlock and I had nothing but time. I wasn’t bogged down with the anxiety of school, I got to devote my whole life and existence to this show. I was also a wealth of possibilities, and as we know the show was also boring, average, unremarkable, and a little sad. Both me and the show were Bill and both me and the show were Rebekah.

So when the wedding between me and the show was charming, if a little gauche it made sense cause there’s only so far new money goes. For me, this represents 2012-Mishapocalpyse: The Golden Age... Look... It’s no secret 2012 was my favorite year of all time... Tumblr was small and fun and hadn’t been corrupted by wanting or trying to be “cool” or “edgy” or “interesting.” I chose the mishapocalypse for the end of this era to me because that was the last time I felt like I could come on tumblr and really just LET GO into insanity. Almost instantly people were shit talking it as if it was not the single most fun 24 hours this website had ever had. In 2013, we saw the rise of YFIP and people trying so hard to “””prove””” they were “”””cool”””” unlike ~those~ tumblr people!!! It was pathetic. But in 2012, we just... had fun. And it was charming, if a little out there. But there really is only so far that the youthful innocence of an online community that’s new goes. 

But I picked out a home on tumblr. And our parties were tasteful if a little loud. Tumblr in 2012/2013 was..... Fun. From mapcrunch to the mishapocalpyse. Some would argue about taste, but I’d say... “if a little loud.” I really just can’t separate the fun I had on tumblr back then from spn and I can’t separate spn from the fun I had back then. 

But then of course, we all need to settle down some times because the fun doesn’t last forever. In this line, I hear myself in both Bill and Rebekah and I hear the show in both Bill and Rebekah. Both of our hearts gave out and the other way to blame. 

So then the chorus... “who knows if she never showed up what could have been?” I CHANGED because of the show, I don’t know who the hell I’d BE without it! And likewise, I don’t think *I* personally changed the actual show, but the show WAS changed by each one of us. The show itself is folklore, changed and shaped in each retelling. There’s a creative freedom to the chorus that lives in that love.

So then there’s the second verse. After the rose colored glasses came off, Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever and I gave up on the greater spn fandom forever. I dropped the hellers and joined the tight knit Dean stans. This verse is about living in spite. It’s that wild American rebellion mixed with a little bit of sensual romanticism. In season 9, it was us against the world. And the reality is we were angrier than this verse gives and less free and fun... but looking back, it felt like A Time. I don’t know how to put it into words really but it was like... We found ways (and continue to find ways) to celebrate Dean when we weren’t supposed to. Fuck everyone else Dean is perfect. 

And then in the second verse, we celebrate that rebellion. The change from “the maddest woman” to “the most shameless woman” in the chorus is so important here... In the first chorus, Rebekah and I were mad and crazy and wild. In the second chorus, we had no shame. We lived IN SPITE of the state of the world around us and fucked anyone who had anything to say about it. 

In the first chorus, “who knows if she never showed up what could have been” paired with “maddest” has this creative potential. Like who knows who I would have been without spn and who knows what the show would have been without us, the fandom. And in the second chorus, that line changes to this destructive force. Like the show and I were both shameless to just exist, you know? because we would have been better without each other... but even as it acknowledges that, it’s still... sweet.

So then we have the time I left the fandom. Here we only hear bits and pieces of Rebekah’s life and Rebekah’s time in Holiday House. She was only seen “on occasion.” And on occasion, you could find me reblogging some Dean stan posts, getting into spats with Sam stans, posting about how the writers suck, calling out a heller. But 7 years is a long time and my fandom sat quietly in the history of my blog... And then it was picked up by me. 

Rebekah, in the song, refers to my past. My previous relationship with the show. Taylor’s part refers to my current relationship with the show. 

Who knows if I never showed up what could have been? If I never came back, what would my life look like? It would have been healthier, I’m sure. But then again - I needed this. And if the show hadn’t came back who would I be? 

But there goes the loudest non-woman this fandom has ever seen. I will scream from the ROOFTOPS! and what I want to scream is EVERYTHING from the past but with my full grown adult context. I know now more than I knew then that I had a MARVELOUS TIME ~ruining everything~!!! And I get to CELEBRATE THAT! I get to let go and have fun. I get to sit and think of Nov 5 and how that night, I relived those parties that were tasteful if a little loud. And then every day since I relived flying in the Bitch Pack friends from the city. I get to CELBRATE!

I may not have been the fan the show wanted. I may have fucked shit up. I may have lived in spite of this show even when I lived because of it. But damn I had a marvelous FUCKING TIME Ruining. Everything. Everything this show built it wanted me to see and love and appreciate with these toxic fucking relationships and the destruction of Dean Winchester can KISS MY ASS cause I had a MARVELOUS time fucking that shit up. Everything this show wanted from me that I refused to give it. Every SPEC of growth and learning and fun and enjoyment I have had from this show.... was toxic. It ruined it. Because it was not the growth and learning and fun and enjoyment the show WANTED ME TO HAVE. But damn did I have fun. 

The show and I are the last great American dynasty full of rebellion and spite and damn is it fun. 

[ilovethings-somuch]

Private Lessons

Dad!Chris Evans/first person OFC (Elaina)

A/N: Hello beautiful people, happy Friday! So this idea has been bouncing around in my head for awhile so here goes nothing. This is going to be a series, I’m currently planning on 10 parts. I hope you like it!

Synopsis: Elaina is teaching swimming lessons to a little boy named Lukas when she discovers that he is the son of Chris Evans. When Chris approaches Elaina to do private lessons with Lukas at the Evans’ home will things heat up? Will Elaina turn into a home wrecker that she never wanted to be? 

Moving to California was a big move for me. With high hopes of getting into the Hollywood scene I set off from the east coast so I could be surrounded by the right kind of people. After a year of jumping to from studio to studio for small roles as an extra my confidence of ‘making it’ dwindled. I decided to take a couple months off to refocus. Of course, when living in LA and paying rent, not working isn’t an option. I decided to go back to my roots and get a job as a lifeguard at the local lap pool. This eventually lead to teaching swimming lessons, and teaching kids of some of the hottest actors in Hollywood.

“Okay, Liam, Lukas, and Eva. Are you guys ready?” I call my kids from their spots on the bleachers to join me by the poolside.

This session the only kid who belongs to an actor was Lukas, Lukas Evans. Son of none other than, Chris Evans. Now, I’m generally over the whole ‘star struck’ situation, but that doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying the view, and Chris Evans is a total DILF. Anyways, back to the kids,

There’s only 3 classes left before the session is over, and that means that today is going underwater day. Most of the kids in my classes are 3 or 4 so we only work on the basics, like how to float, go underwater, and generally just be comfortable in the pool. I try to work the kids up to going underwater, every week we blow bubbles and sometimes I’ll ask if they can get their nose wet, then if they can do that I ask if they can put their eyes in too. The answer is almost always a very strong “No!”

The first half of the class goes how it normally does. Simply working on floats and kicking, occasionally throwing in ‘ice cream scoop arms’. I spend time with each kid, trying to get them to completely relax into their back float. When there’s about 10 minutes left in class I line the kids up on the wall and give them the rundown and doing a bob

“Okay guys, we’re going to do something new today. Does anyone know what a bob is?”

“Noooo” they all shout in unison

“A bob, is when we go underwater and then jump right back up! How does that sound?” I make my voice as enthusiastic as possible to try and get them excited, but they all have varying levels of worry written on their faces. “How about I show you, but first we have to talk about what kind of face we make when we go underwater. We want to make a ‘fishy face’ so we close our eyes super tight and then puff our cheeks out like this” I point to my cheeks while making the face before having each kid show how they do it. Liam gets it right way, Eva got the puffy cheeks part down but forgot to close her eyes, and Lukas is too worried about going under to show me anything.

“Okay, good job guys. Now I’m going to show you how I go underwater and then it will be your turn. Can you count to three for me?” They count off in unison while I quickly go underwater. I come up with a smile on my face in an attempt to relax the kids, if they see I’m having fun then they should have fun too. When I come back up they all clap excitedly, but Lukas still looks unsure. I take Liam first, holding him in the water and having him show me his fishy face.

“Good job, are you ready to go under? I’m going to count to three and you make your fishy face” When I get to three I imitate the face with him, making sure he takes a big breath on 3 before quickly dunking him. Right after I bring him back above the surface I sit him on the wall and give him a high-five for being so brave. With no tears, I count that as a win. I repeat the process with Eva next. She was very excited to begin with but when I sat her on the wall she started to tear up a little bit. I was able to avoid a complete meltdown by teaching her how to wipe the water out of her eyes so that it didn’t hurt.

Then it was Lukas’ turn. Seeing Eva cry a little bit did not seem to help with his nerves. He willingly came in the water with me but when I ask him to show me his fishy face and just shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“Miss Lainie, I don’t wanna get my eyes wet” he whines

“Well that’s why we make a fishy face, silly. We close our eyes super tight so no water gets in” He doesn’t respond, just gives me a little pout face. “Hm, how about I go under with you, would that make it better?” He contemplates my offer for a few moments before agree. “Good, but you gotta show me your fishy face first okay?” I puff up my cheeks to remind him and he’s quick to imitate me, crinkling his eyes so they’re closed tight. “Good job! Okay relax now, I’m going to count to three and then we’re both going to take a big breath and go under okay?” worry crosses his face again but he nods bravely. “One, two, three okay take a big breath” I quickly go under water with him before popping back up to set him on the side. He sits there for a few moments, keeping his eyes closed tight. I use my thumbs to wipe the water out of his eyes before coaxing him to open them. As soon as he peeks them open I give him a big smile and a high-five, along with a little cheer about how brave he was.

To finish off the class we did their favorite activity, jumping off the wall. They all seemed a little unsure at first but when I assured them that they weren’t going under again they all resumed their normal excitement levels. Once everyone had a turn we all got out and I wrapped their towels around each of them before walking them back to their waiting parents.

Liam’s mom comes up first to usher him to the locker room, telling him how good of a job he did and giving me a small smile. Eva’s big brother meets her halfway to the bleachers and leads her to their mom, leaving me to walk Lukas over to Chris.

“Hey good job today buddy! Did you go under water?”

Lukas seems to have gotten his pep back and begins bouncing excitedly at his father’s praise.

“He did really well” I tell Chris, who smiles widely at me before saying thank you as I make my exit towards the pool office. I hang out for a while in the office, talking to my coworkers and boss about how lessons went before grabbing my belongings and heading out. As I’m crossing the parking lot I hear someone calling my name. I turn around I see Chris jogging towards me with Lukas in his arms.

“Hey, Elaina I’m glad I caught you. I was going to tell you earlier but, anyways” he pauses, seemingly flustered “I was going to thank you, for getting Lukas to go underwater. This is his third time being in this level and he always fails because he refuses to go under. So yeah, I guess just thanks for getting him more comfortable”

“Yeah, of course. I’m glad that he’s improving”

“Me too, so actually I was wondering, do you do private lessons? I really want him to keep working but my schedule doesn’t allow me to bring him when the classes are next session. Also I think he would do best if he kept you as his teacher”

“Yeah, I can do private lessons. I’ll just have to talk to my boss about when I can use the pool and let you guys know”

“Oh, actually, we have a pool at our house. So if you’re willing, I think you coming there would work best”

“Oh, um yeah I can do that. I guess we’ll just have to put our schedules together and figure out what times will work and such?”

“Yeah, how many lessons are left in this session?”

“Two, so just next Tuesday and Thursday”

“Right, okay. I think getting him started right away would be best, do you agree?”

“Yeah for sure. So we should plan a time sometime within the next week” I suggest.

“Yeah, here” he digs his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before handing it to me. “Put your number in and I can text you and we can plan a time to meet up and talk about schedules”

I’m taken aback a bit by this A-list celebrity handing me, someone he doesn’t really know, his unlocked phone, but I try to remain calm as I put my number into Chris Evans’ phone! *internal scream*

“There you go” I try to sound casual as I hand his phone back but grimace at the way my voice sounds, very audibly shakey.

“Thanks! I’ll be in touch, and we’ll see you next week” he says with a shining smile.

“Sound good” I say, returning the smile and giving a little wave to Lukas.

I get in my car quickly, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to steady myself. Did that really just happen? I just had a real conversation with Chris Evans. Wait a minute, was my voice seriously shaking? Oh my god get it together Elaina! He’s just a guy, and a married guy who has a child! I shake my head to clear it of the embarrassing moment that will probably be engraved in my mind forever, before starting my car and heading home.

I make my dinner and am halfway through my next episode of Grey’s Anatomy when my phone chimes.

Unknown Number: Hey Elaina this is Chris. I was looking at my schedule and I’m available anytime next Wednesday or Friday if you’re available to meet with me. We could do coffee?

Me: I’m free on Friday, do you have a preferred time and place?

I quickly add his number to my contacts while waiting for a reply. Opting to leave his last name out, just in case something were to happen to my phone.

Chris: I know this little shop that is usually good for keeping a low profile, I’ll send you the address. Say, 9:30am?

Me: Sounds good to me, see you then!

“See you then? See you then?! You’re going to see him on Tuesday you dumb shit” I throw my phone across the couch with a groan of frustration. I don’t expect a response so when my phone chimes again I jump while looking at it wearily. I eventually reach across to grab it and see who texted me.

Chris: Can’t wait :)

My eyes grow wide, did he.. Did he really say that? Wait, no, Elaina calm down. He’s just a nice person, he didn’t mean anything by it. Even if he did, he’s married (and famous), you can’t get in the middle of that.

“Oh my god, what am I getting myself into?”

[annnnnnabanana]

How can you tell them that you want them and that you care for them but you can’t be with them. I’ll always be there for you. when it is 3am and im drunk or when its 2pm and im working. I’m there. always there. it’s you; it’s always been you since I met you five months ago. The way you make me feel is insane. It’s an indescribable feeling. You made me feel every single fucking emotion. You made me so happy but you managed to make me so sad. Luckily the happy outweighed the sad. Maybe one day we will cross paths, you’ll see me, i’ll see you, we’ll meet up and reconnect and talk like we never stopped. Our passion was like fire. Bright and hot. We loved hard for five months. We definitely fought to be together. You picked me. You wanted me instead of her. I picked you over everyone. You understood me. I remember staying up for nights in a row just to talk to you until morning. Our silences were so calming and weren’t awkward. I could sit there and listen to you breathe and be so content with life. I wish we were in my car and I was driving doing something stupid and you just laughed like I was an idiot but I really knew you were falling in love with me with every little moment we spent together. From the waffle house dates to playing monopoly to getting lost in Narnia a.k.a. IKEA to sitting in my room just talking to being on facetime and you making music or you showing me your favorite songs. God I miss you. To be honest, I don’t think i’ll ever stop missing you. You were something special. You didn’t know how to open up to me. I struggled because i knew you wanted to let me in but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to get hurt. You didn’t want someone to learn so much about you that they could hurt you. I wasn’t ever going to hurt you. I never planned on it. But you, you hurt me. You destroyed me. I’m broken because of you. But there you are, partying and getting drunk with random people you don’t know, probably fucking some girl in your room, to suppress your feelings; but here I am, getting drunk and crying my pitiful, sad tears all alone to let out my feelings. You’re numb. You put up these walls that I spent five months trying to break down. I let you in straight away because i’m too trusting. I care too much. I love too deeply. I get attached too easily. It fucks me up. Maybe one day i’ll learn to not do that to keep my heart from being broken and crushed. You ripped my heart out of my chest tonight. I’ll be numb too, just like you. But eventually i’ll be okay. I’ll find someone who won’t make me feel like this. You’ll still be sleeping around trying to forget your hurt and pain. I wonder if you’ll lay in your bed at night tossing and turning because you can’t sleep because you’re thinking of me and if I still miss you. If you’re wondering, I do. We both have some growing up to do. We both were changing. You couldn’t handle having someone there to help you through it. You didn’t want to change together. You didn’t want to grow with me, I did. I wanted to go through everything with you; the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. You were scared you were going to hurt me so you let me go. It was more painful to know you didn’t want to try with me. You tried to spare my feelings. I’m not some fragile fucking doll. I am a damn human. I am strong and I can take what you throw at me. I wanted us to work out. In all honesty, it got to the point, for me, where I was day dreaming about our future together. Our house, our jobs, our kids, our wedding. All of it. But it doesn’t matter now. You threw it all away… But I hope you can be happy and successful just like I hope you wish the same for me. I won’t talk bad about you because you were and still are what I wanted. You’ll forever be engraved in my heart and my mind. You taught me how a guy should treat me, how I should be loved, and I can’t thank you enough for it. Hopefully, I taught you something too. Maybe you can love your next girl even better and treat her even better. Maybe she will be more than what I could/ did give you. I hope she does you well. I hope she checks up on you while you’re drunk. I hope she likes your music and she supports you. I hope she doesn’t get mad when you need to be alone because you’re going through something you can’t explain. I hope she knows your favorite colors, that you only like Chickfilas diet lemonade and that’s all you will drink from there, your slightly unhealthy obsession with Selena Gomez and butts, that you love choking people and that it is your job, that you can eat seven plates of food and still be hungry, that your favorite movie of all time is Dead pool, that you’re insecure about your calves and only you can make fun of them or you get upset, that you and your sister are really close, that you and your dad share college stories, that you love memes and deadlifting, that your favorite animal is a penguin, that you believe in aliens, that even though you are lactose intolerant you still choose to eat area 51 ice cream because that is your favorite place, that you also really love chicken nuggets and I think if it were possible you would marry them, that you love waffle house, that you love crazy crew socks, that you love being dressy and you love playing dress up, that when you start tapping your fingers to the beat of a song you are playing the beat in your head and trying to figure it out, that you’re weird but it makes you ten times funnier, that you are charming, that you are the perfect gentleman, that it is hard for you to open up and let people in, and I hope she gets to know more of you than I got to know even if I wanted to know every detail about you; from the day you were born to the very day and moment we are in right now.

Why can’t you get drunk and text me that you miss you like I do when i’m drunk. It doesn’t seem fair that you hold it together so well while i’m barely holding on by a thread, just dangling there waiting for someone to cut the string. You remember how this whole thing started? It started with Grey’s Anatomy. You tweeted, “what’s so hype about greys?” I replied, “hot doctors and crazy cool illnesses.” You said, “hmm maybe i’ll watch an episode.” A few days later, I dmed you because it gave me the perfect excuse to talk to you. Of course you said you didn’t watch it. I remember the first thing you told me was that you thought your middle name was weird and then you randomly told me your middle name. we talked every day from that night. We made so many memories starting from that night. and now… now it’s all over. Both going through the same cycle. Heartbreak, sadness, possibly anger, happiness. But then we just start over with someone new and then go through that cycle with them. I didn’t want to have to start over. I didn’t want to go through the heartache or the breakups or the sadness. I wanted to be with you and only you. I wanted to wake up at 4am and look to my left and see you laying next to me. I wanted to make breakfast together in our cute apartment/ house. I wanted to cuddle up next to you on our couch eating dinner and drink some sort of alcoholic beverage enjoying each others company watching some weird ass show I probably found. I’ll always wonder what you’re doing. If you’re talking to some new girl. If you’re having sex with some girl to fill the void like you do. I’ll wonder if you’re okay. I’ll wonder if you wonder about me. I’ll wonder if you want to get back together with me. I’ll always wonder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I miss you and I hope you miss me too. 1/22/2017 2:05am 1/24/2016 11:03pm You texted me today. I replied with I miss you. You didn’t reply. I drove to all of our places today. I cried and I laughed because of our memories we made. Im sad because I know that it’s completely over between us and I wish it wasn’t because we had so much growing to do that we could have done together. I know you want to be with me but right now it’s too hard. We could have been something special, ya know? Really special. We could have given each other the world. I miss you so much. Its only been four days but all I do is cry. 1/27/17 8:07am I am in class. It’s boring. And all I’m doing is thinking about you. I still miss you. It’s been 6 days, almost a week since we broke up. I’m still sad but I’m better. I hope we can try again one day. You were and still are my favorite person. You make me so happy. You said you wanted to be with me but you couldn’t. It hurt but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as when you said you are trying to detach yourself. That broke me. I’m sorry for talking about my feelings and oversharing and just missing you. I don’t really know what to do. I have this feeling that we will get back together but in my mind we won’t. I have not been able to get the thought out of my head that you are fucking some other girl and the thought of that makes me sick. Like honestly sick, like I could throw up at any moment. I had a dream last night: you came to my house with flowers, talked to my mom. You didn’t tell her we were broken up because you knew that I never told her in hopes of us getting back together and I didn’t want her to not like you. You came to my room and asked if we could talk and I said get the hell out because I didn’t want to speak to you because you broke my heart. You didn’t leave. You came in, shut my door and sat on my bed. I sat up and said I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say because I was sick of your bullshit. You talked to my anyways because you knew I would listen. You said, “I want to be with you, Anna. I miss you and I keep coming back to you. You are my favorite person. I would do anything for you. I care about you so much. Do you miss me? (as if you didn’t already know the answer).” “Of course I miss you, Braeden. How could I not? You were so special to me and I don’t think you realized it. But I am so sick of your bullshit excuses and I’m tired of running back to you just so you can break my heart again and again and again. You showed me something about myself that I didn’t think anyone could show me. You showed me how I should be treated by everyone that came into my life and I can’t thankyou enough for that.” “Do you wanna go for a drive with me”, you asked. “Yeah, I do.” We got up to leave. My mom said be safe and that she loved us. We got in your car and started driving. You told me why you left and that there was no ulterior motive behind it, that you weren’t lying. I am so appreciative of the fact that you are so honest with me. I stared out the window while you were talking to me. I couldn’t look at you without crying. I just wanted to hug and kiss you but I knew I couldn’t do that. That it wouldn’t be fair to me or you. I am always looking out for you. I always have and will put you and your feelings above myself even though I know I shouldn’t do that. You looked at me looking out the window and you smiled. I saw it in the reflection of the windshield. I said what. You said, “I have to tell you something and im not sure how you will react or how im going to react after the words come out of my mouth.” I said, “what is it? Are you gonna tell me you slept with 15 girls in the matter of a 2 weeks and then got back together with Mallory?” “No I wasn’t going to tell you that. Why would you think that? I never even thought of sleeping with someone else Anna.”, you said. I said, “ that’s what you do Braeden. When you are single, you fuck. That’s all you do is fuck.” I knew when I said that, I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I apologized for saying it. You know I would never hurt you on purpose. You told me that it was okay; that you knew I was sorry. You acted like it didn’t affect you. I hate when you do that. You put up this façade and act like nothing matters to you and that nothing hurts you and that you don’t care. I do it too. I am trying to stop it. You said, “can I tell you what I was trying to tell you ten minutes ago?” we are in horn lake somewhere, I don’t remember driving that far. “yes you can, Im sorry.” Im always apologizing for something. “don’t be sorry, Anna. But * long pause* I think I love you.” I sit up and I finally looked at you. “what?” “Yes, Anna, I really do.” “Since when Braeden because you sure as hell don’t act like it,” I said. “since I met you. I knew it on our first date that I was gonna fall in love with you.” “oh…,” I said. Then I woke up and Im not quite sure what happened after that.. I know that this dream will never happen in real life. I know that you don’t love me like that. I know you don’t want me. And that’s okay. I’m eating. More than the last time we broke up. Im not drowning my feelings and filling my veins with alcohol like I did before. Im better. I might be sad but im better. My mom asked about you Friday, I had to tell her and she got mad at me for not telling her sooner… Telling her, made it seem so much more real. I didn’t want her to know because it gave me some sort of hope in us getting back together. I didn’t want her to not like you but she still likes you even loves you. I had another dream; all you did was text me about some hockey player attatched with a picture. It was weird and I don’t know what’s happening to me. Its been 4 days and I still haven’t cried.. its been a week and one day since we broke up and it still hurts just like it did the first time you broke up with me. Day 11 since we broke up… 2/1/17 10:31am Well its our almost what would have been six months of being together. 3 months of officially dating. But that doesn’t exist anymore. I got sad yesterday and of course im still sad today. I think about you all the time. You never leave my mind. It’s literally impossible to go a second without seeing thinking of you. I see you in everything I do. It hurts me but somehow makes me happy at the same time. I still have all our pictures and videos because I can’t seem to delete them. It would make me sad to know that I could never look back at all the memories we made. I am honestly surprised I am doing as well as I am. When we broke up the first time, I was a mess. I didn’t eat or sleep or anything really. The only thing I did was drink and drink and drink. Its all I did for a week straight. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick. I missed my home. My comfort. My safe place. You were my home. I never felt safer than when I was in your arms. Your hugs made me feel warm and happy. No matter what I did or how I felt, you were always there for me. It’s hard to do things without thinking of you or it bringing back memories. I can’t listen to certain songs or go to certain places or order certain things without crying or feeling sadness because it is all associated with you. I remember every little detail about you and our relationship. It’s a constant cycle of me just replaying our memories in my brain. It’s never ending. You are on my mind when I wake up, all day, when I go to sleep, and even in my dreams. I can never get away from you no matter how hard I try. I know it’s not over for us. I feel it in my bones, my heart, my brain, my blood, everything. We are nowhere near done; not any time soon. I was talking to Meagan last night. I know what you are thinking; your best friend. My Mallory has told me over and over that all you did was use me for sex. But I don’t think you did. If I did, you wouldn’t have stayed with me for five months. You would have left me the second after we did stuff together. I think you genuinely cared for me and showed me how I should be treated and I cant thank you enough for that. I am so appreciative of you. I know you know that I am always there for you no matter what and that I will always care for you and that you will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart. I told her that I think we were getting super serious too fast and it scared you. You aren’t used to something like that. You take your time but I think you realized that you were falling and falling hard and fast and you didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. I was scared because I didn’t know what was happening. Im terrified. I didn’t know what I was feeling or how I was feeling. My emotions went crazy. I think I realized that I was falling too. I’m scared of being happy. Scared of being in love. Scared of fully opening myself up to someone. I know you are too. I don’t think you and Mallory or any of your exes had a connection like we did. I don’t think you felt like this with anyone but me. I really do hope you are doing okay because im not. Im doing horrible. Im constantly being asked if I am and I say yes but I know I am lying and I think they know im lying too. They still like you. They hope that we get back together. They want you to come over on super bowl Sunday. My dad asked about you… He said he missed you and he never says that about anyone. Im sorry I feel the way I feel. Im sorry I couldn’t help you get through what you needed to get through. I told Meagan that she could read this one day but I don’t think I will let her. Maybe one day I can stop writing because A) we get back together or B) I finally get over you. Man, I hope it is the first one. I really do. But for right now, I’m not done writing and I won’t be anytime soon.. I Love You So Much. Its 3:03am on Friday February 3rd, 2017. You sent me a song yesterday that you remixed. It was another one of your breakup mixes, you know, the ones that make you a lot of money and get you a lot of views… yeah one of those. I don’t know why you did it. Was it to hurt me? To remind me of you and that you still existed? Either way it was still good and I really like it. But I decided to look up the meaning of the lyrics and it hurt me. “fighting flames of fire hang onto burning wires we don’t care anymore Are we fading lovers?” It makes total sense. We had hardships in our relationship. A lot, actually. We are fading; we don’t talk anymore. We hung to burning wires; clinging for us to stay together. Fighting for what we wanted and needed. I cried for so long today. My mom is worried. I don’t know how long it will take me to be happy again. I’m getting drunk tonight, and Saturday and Sunday. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take my feelings and emotions and the pain. It feels like my heart has been ripped out and stepped on by a bunch of elephants. You were like the ocean and I was drowning. I don’t know what I am doing. I don’t know how I’m functioning. I am a functioning depressed person. I hope you regret it. I hope you regret leaving me. I hope you realize you made a wrong choice and that you come back to me. I hope that you think about me everyday.. and what we could have been. You texted me today.. 2/9/17.. you asked about your red jacket. I know you knew I didn't have it, or so I thought? Was it just an excuse to text me, to see me? What was it? Because i cant keep having you text me randomly when you miss me or when you feel like. Its fucked up on your end knowing how much I care for you.