#but i remember so distinctly like an age where i stopped asking my parents to try new things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corporatefrog · 11 months

Text

↳˗ˏˋ loose change ˊˎ˗ ↴

level 5 - the parent trap

featuring: yn enters the weekly wine night of some resident mothers and has an interesting phone call with eric.

notes: I knew i had to get the other moms in on this when I started the fic. got to have the mom representation fr.

series masterlist

previous level | next level

When I entered the house, a crowd of women waited for me. Normally, this would be a welcome thing. Who would be unhappy about coming home to a roomful of women? However, this wasn’t my house I was coming back to and the women were all strangers sitting in the living room with glasses of wine, staring at me blankly as I waddled into the room.

Liane jumped up from her spot on the couch, setting a glass of wine on the coffee table before rushing over to the door where I stood awkwardly counting the seconds before I self-destructed. She took me by the arm and led me around the couch to face the two other women.

“This is who I was telling you about! The one staying in Eric’s old room!” Liane explained

“These are the girls I was talking about having over earlier.” Liane turned back to the other women, “They were stopping by Tweek Bros Coffee after the kerfuffle this morning.” She explained before turning back to me.

“How was Tweek Bros? It’s the go to place for most locals so hopefully you were able to find something you liked.” Liane jumped as though she’d forgotten something important, “Would you like to sit down? I’ve got extra wine glasses and plenty of wine to go around.” She asked with a smile. A voice jumped in from the couch before I could respond.

“Oh, so you’ve got three bottles for Sheila this time?” A woman with short brown hair smirked, tipping her glass towards the other woman with a bright red beehive hairdo who let out an offended gasp.

—

Name: Sharon Marsh

Age: 49

Status: Part-time Receptionist

Fun Fact: Sharon’s tried a few different local book clubs but hates romance books so she usually leaves after a month

—

“I distinctly remember you being the one who drained a whole bottle of moscato in an hour last week.” The other woman’s offended facade broke slightly as she laughed at the memory. The brunette shook her head, fighting back a smile as she pretended to not know what the red head was talking about.

—

Name: Sheila Broflovski

Age: 50

Status: Human Rights Defender

Fun Fact: Sheila has the record for starting the most GoFundMe campaigns and even made a campaign to fund her starting other campaigns

—

Watching the women banter back and forth, one thought came to the front of my mind.

I have to be friends with them. There is no other option.

“I’d love to join you, if that’s alright.” I lowered my bag onto the ground. Liane smiled and nodded, ushering me towards the armchair which sat on the other side of the couch from her own.

“Let me introduce you to the ladies,” Liane said as she walked me towards the chair. She pointed a hand at red haired women on the couch, introducing her as Sheila. The woman wore a black blazer with a button up shirt underneath to complete her professional ensemble. She might be a good person to network with. Any woman in an outfit like that past 7 pm is a professional at heart.

Liane moved her hand to point at the other woman with the shorter brown hair. Her name was Sharon. She wore a sweater that matched her hair with cuffs around the neck and wrists. The outfit looked perfect for a comfy wine night with some girlfriends. Do I have any sweaters like that? I need to buy a sweater like that.

After the introductions, Sheila gave me a small wave while Sharon lifted her glass of wine towards me with a smile.

Sheila, red hair. Sharon, brown hair. Sheila, red hair. Sharon, brown hair.

I repeated the names and identifiers in my head a few times. The names were a bit too close for a first time meeting.

God that’s so fucking nerdy.

There is nothing nerdy about being terrified of getting people’s names wrong leading to them hating you forever… Okay, maybe that sounds slightly nerdy.

Liane asked again if I wanted any wine and I accepted, hoping it’ll help me move into the atmosphere of the group easier. I wasn’t a huge wine drinker but it’s made to be held in a glass rather than chugged anyway so I could slide by without having too much.

Wow, way to give into peer pressure.

If giving into peer pressure means I infiltrate MILF central, it’s a risk I'm willing to take.

Liane handed me a surprisingly large glass-

That’s not a glass. That’s a fucking GOBLET.

Literally, shut up.

I thanked her as I took the glass, resting the bottom of the glass on the arm of the chair, trying to mimic Liane’s posture as she returned to her seat. Social chameleon. Blend into the atmosphere. They won’t even know I’m extremely anxious right now because I’m so cool and interesting.

“You never told me how Tweek Bros was. It normally gets crowded around midday so I hope the visit was nice for you.” Liane asked again, taking a sip from her glass. I mirrored the sip, nodding with a smile as I swallowed.

“It was perfect! Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll probably start going regularly now.” I paused, debating whether or not to share the story about Craig and his excel phobia, “I ended up helping a guy learn how to use excel so I stayed there for a bit longer than I originally intended. I think he was supposed to be handling the place’s finances but he had zero idea what he was doing.” The story ended with a light laugh from me at the memory of Craig’s twisted expression as his eyes jumped between the financial records in the folder and the computer screen.

The others laughed at the story as well. Sharon stopped with a small gasp, “The Tweak’s are out of town right?” When Liane nodded in agreement, Sharon turned back to me, “Was he blonde, hair sticking all over the place, and a bit jumpy.” She described the boy from behind the counter, waving a hand around her head to help visualize Tweek’s eternal bedhead.

I shook my head, “No, no, he was behind the counter. The guy at the computer had black hair. His nametag said he was Craig.” Sharon hummed, nodding as she considered the new information.

“That’s not surprising. Out of the two, I couldn’t imagine Richard’s son attempting to do finances.” Sheila commented garnering various agreements from the other two women.

The conversation was paused as a phone began to ring. Sheila jumped at the noise, clearly familiar with the sound as she patted around the couch near her until she pulled out the source of the noise.

“It’s Kyle, just a moment, ladies.” She announced, accepting the call and bringing it to her ear. Sharon and Liane began talking amongst themselves. I tried to listen in but I sat closer to Sheila, making it impossible to join the conversation without talking over the woman on her phone. So I sat and did what anyone in that situation would do. I eavesdropped so fucking hard.

“Hello Bubba, what’s going on?” Sheila took another sip of wine from her glass, “No, I’m at Liane’s right now with the girls for wine night. Your father should be home with Ike though.”

“I’m not sure, we’ve been chatting for a few hours now but the person staying with Liane joined us,” Sheila gave me a small smile as she mentioned me, “and we’re getting to know them a bit-” A wave of shouts sounded from the phone. The volume caused Sheila to pull the phone back from her ear and drew Sharon and Liane away from their conversation. We all shared concerned looks at the cause of the sudden spike in volume.

Sheila returned the phone to her ear, “Kyle, what was that- Well, yes, they’re sitting right here-” She cast a quick glance towards me, brows furrowed as she listened to the person on the other side of the phone, “Um, well, I don’t see why not. Give me a second, let me ask them.”

She lowered the phone and turned to me, “Liane’s son is asking to speak to you for a moment. I’m not sure what it’s about but it sounded urgent.” She held out the device. I looked down at the phone then back at the women on the couch. Sharon’s face had pulled into a frown, a quick shake of her head accompanied a pointed look at the phone. At least I’m not the only one who dislikes Eric. Granted, I can’t exactly express that while sitting in front of his mom who’s also my landlady.

But you could say it to him over the phone and say that he provoked you first.

Like they would believe that.

If all else fails, just start crying.

You’ve got a point.

I took the phone, excusing myself as I walked towards the kitchen. I brought the phone up to my ear as I walked through the doorway, leaning against the dining table.

“Hello-”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH! YOU BETTER BE THERE TO MOVE YOUR SHIT OUT OF MY ROOM BEFORE I GET THERE AND THROW IT OUT THE GODDAMN WINDOW-” I pulled the phone back from my ear, understanding why Sheila had done the same a few minutes before.

The shouting continued for a solid minute but I kept the phone at a long enough range where I couldn’t hear most of what was being said. I really didn’t need to be bored listening to a bitchy brat snark at me. Once the shouting died down, I brought the phone back to my ear as the response formulated in my head.

“Literally shut your goddamn mouth, Eric. You touch any of my stuff, I’m telling everyone about your Transformers slash fics.” A gasp sounded on the other end.

“How do you know about that?”

I chuckled, pushing off of the table to pace the kitchen, “You shouldn’t leave your fucking diary in the bedside table, dumbass. I’ve read every single thought you’ve recorded for the last 15 years. Never thought someone could imagine such inaccurate shit in so many embarrassing ways then have the audacity to record it. It would be so awful if these were printed and pasted all over town. Definitely life-ruining.” I mused, spinning on the ball of my foot as a giddy energy filled my walk.

Silence followed the comment. Beautiful, pitiful silence. I could almost see his slack jawed expression in my mind.

We fucking got him.

A rustling sounded on the other side of the line, “Dude, I think you broke him. What did you say?” A new voice spoke, a breathy laugh following the question. He sounded impressed with my work. I knew Eric would be taken aback, but I hadn’t expected the threat to work this well. It was hard not to brag but I knew it was a better idea to keep this blackmail in my pocket for a bit longer.

I scrambled for an answer, “Nothing at all. Just let him know how thankful I am for letting me stay in his room while I’m in town.”

I wasn’t able to fight the smile that spread across my face, barely holding back the urge to begin cheering then and there. A fist pumped into the sky for a silent celebration.

Suck it, Eric Fartman. Stay mad, fucking loser.

I reentered the living room as a champion. Well, I felt like one at least. I stood up straighter and my steps were filled with a comforting confidence as I returned the phone to Sheila. I flashed Sharon and Liane a thumbs up to let them know everything was fine then fell back into my seat, taking a sip of my wine. The sour taste covered my tongue. The taste of victory.

Okay, cool it with the weird battle metaphors.

I just feel really good about shutting his ass up.

Just don’t jinx it by being a fucking idiot.

Sheila finished up her conversation, ending the call with an exaggerated kissing noise before putting the phone away. Sharon and Liane’s side conversation trailed off as they waited to hear the recap of the call.

“Kyle was just asking if anyone was at the house. He needed to get something from his room but he forgot his keys on the table last time he was over.” Sheila explained. The ladies nodded, taking sips of their wine in acknowledgement before turning to me. Sheila followed suit leaving me cornered by three wine moms.

I tried to mirror Sheila’s nonchalance, “Oh it was nothing. Eric just wanted to tell me not to snoop around his room. Normal stuff.” I took a sip of my wine to hide the grin inching across my face. They all nodded, repeating the sips of acceptance as though it were an unspoken rule after a consensus had been reached to share a drink.

Conversation moved through different topics of local gossip: the state of Tweek Bros Coffee during the owners’ absence, the new interim principal of the elementary school, and a ton of names I didn’t recognize in the slightest. My mind raced to take mental notes of all the details. The environment appeared to an outsider like a casual wine night but to me it was a crash course on the town I’d be staying in for the next few months.

“I can’t believe that Stotch’s son is the one running the elementary school.” Sharon laughed as she vocalized the absurdity of the situation.

“I know,” Sheila replied, “He’s only what, 22? I couldn’t imagine Kyle being in charge of all those snotty kids. He can barely handle his brother when we leave town for a weekend.” The room roared with agreement, wine glasses clinking in solidarity that they also didn’t believe a 22 year old could handle running an elementary school. The thought alone gave me a headache. Or that was from hearing Eric’s voice two times in a single day. If I had to listen to him talk for a full day, I’d probably need a bottle of ibuprofen after the first hour.

“Actually, yn is the same age as Kyle, aren’t you?” Liane directed the room’s attention to me as I was mid-sip of wine. My eyes widened as I realized they were waiting for me to respond. I quickly finished the sip and nodded, wiping a bit of the wine from the corner of my mouth.

“Yeah, feeling 22 just like Taylor Swift said.” An awkward chuckle bubbled from my throat, unsure of how to respond to the general question about my age, “I couldn’t imagine watching an entire school, though. I’ve babysat before but that’s a whole different game.” Sheila jumped at the new information.

“You babysit?” She asked, leaning towards me.

“Oh, yeah! I helped out a few families while I was on campus. Mainly older kids though, just making sure the house doesn’t burn down and things like that-”

Sheila cut me off, speaking so fast I almost couldn’t understand what she was saying, “So you’d be able to watch over my son while my husband and I are gone for the weekend?”

“Uh- Well-” I sputtered, taken aback by the sudden question.

Before I could respond, Sheila started speed talking again, “He’s 15 so you wouldn’t be watching him the whole time! We just need someone available in case he sets the house on fire or some other emergency. My son, Kyle, is going to be in town but he’s always wrapped up with whatever thing his friends are doing that day-”

“Yeah, absolutely! I’d be happy to!” I agreed without much thought to what I was saying.

Wait what the fuck are we accepting?

I’m not too sure but I feel like she would’ve kept talking until we said something.

There are so many other ways to do that which don’t include agreeing to make sure a 15 year old boy doesn’t die.

Well I should’ve thought of that earlier. I’m a babysitter now.

Sheila grinned, clapping her hands with the wine glass still gripped in one hand, “Wonderful! You’ll be such a huge help, you have no idea. Oh! You should stop by tomorrow to meet Ike and Gerald, just so they know who you are.” Sheila continued to rattle off things I should do to prepare for her and her husband’s trip as I nodded along. The mental list of what I’d just agreed to continued to grow longer and longer until I started to forget the items at the top of the list.

“Just stop by during dinner tomorrow and we’ll go from there.” Sheila ended by handing me a piece with her phone number and address on it. Taking the paper, I thanked her. The words came out slowly as my mind tried to process all of the new information and catch up to the present.

Sharon sighed, “I think you overwhelmed them, Sheila. They’re probably exhausted from the day and now you’re word vomiting in them.”

I shook my head, waving hands to brush off the concern, “No, no, it’s all good! I just didn’t expect to be babysitting in a new town so quickly. I guess I’ve just got the magnetism, huh?” I laughed in hopes of clearing the air of any worry. It worked as the other women mirrored the laugh.

“Gerald and I have just been needing a weekend away for months but whenever we try to go, Kyle’s not in town or it’s one of the few weekends that he’s home during the school year.” Sheila picked up the wine bottle to refill her glass as she spoke. Sharon nodded in agreement, taking the bottle from Sheila to fill her own glass as well.

“And that’s even if he wants to go out for a weekend. All Randy does is sit in the goddamn barn doing who knows what. Shelley hasn’t visited since spring break and now she’s not even coming home for the summer.” She swirled the wine in her glass as she spoke, eyes following the growing whirlpool of liquid as though entranced by the movement.

Is this what my parents do when I’m not home? Sit around and talk about how I haven’t visited for months or scramble to find a weekend for themselves?

The women continued to complain about their husbands, jobs, and anything else weighing on their minds. Liane jumped in with difficulties she had with different men then Sharon would follow with a wild tale of something her husband had done that weekend. I jumped in a few times with my own stories but most of my evening was spent listening. Mainly due to the interesting stories they were telling but also due to the slowly growing exhaustion that tugged my eyelids lower and lower.

With a goodbye interrupted part way through with a yawn, I thanked Liane for having me.

“Oh, anytime, yn.” She assured, holding both my hands in her own, “You’ve been such a delight! You’re always welcome.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow!” Sheila called as I walked up the stairs. The hallway was the same but the slowly darkening evening light replaced the hopeful light I’d stood in that morning. The carpet felt more plush beneath my tired feet as I dragged myself to the bedroom.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH”

Eric’s voice rang through my head as I pushed open the door. The shadows appeared deeper in the room now that the sun was setting instead of rising. My eyes got lost in the corners. Did they keep going? What did those shadows hold? Maybe I should get a nightlight. I don’t want to know what hides in the dark corners of Eric Cartman’s bedroom.

Adding that to my todo list for tomorrow, I sighed at the slowly growing list of tasks. If I’d known things would get so busy on my first day in town, I would’ve gone back to sleep after the debacle of the morning. The accidental tutoring session followed by the extended meet and greet left me feeling extremely drained. I barely kept my eyes open as I pulled out some pajamas for the night and fell into the bed, still reciting the next day’s tasks as I slowly fell asleep.

taglist [reply to be added]:@n0tangeliccc , @valstarroz , @kenanonsthoughts , @axteroiid , @hand-writxen , @that-kid-fromtheplayground , @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction, @h3artilly, @sula0kin, @ryenwritess, @emlovesredbull

#me when i disappear and just reappear with loose change #chapter six is so silly im so excited for you guys to read it #south park #south park x reader #corporatefrog #loose change

24 notes · View notes

unnervinglyferal · 6 months

Note

Speaking as someone who was born so premature I almost died, and had to live in an incubator in the hospital for a while as a result, I have some important info for you.

If your daughter was in hospital without either of you holding her for any length of time, she could have something that looks like abandonment issues, both now and when she gets older (you telling about how much she wants to be held made me think of myself). This isn’t because you or your gf have done anything wrong, or because there's something the matter with your daughter, it's just what happens when a newborn is kept apart from their parents for any length of time. What I remember specifically was being a *really*, like abnormally clingy kid, not wanting to be put down or left anyplace by myself for any length of time and crying my eyes out inconsolably if I was, and having a lot of difficulty sleeping by myself a long time after the age when most kids start to do that naturally (I shared a bed with my kid sister until I was 13, not because she needed the reassurance of having someone there but because I did).

I distinctly remember feeling absolutely, life-endingly *terrified* of something I couldn't explain whenever I was left alone or put to bed by myself as a kid, and not knowing what it was or how to ask for help with it. Looking back, what I was experiencing was an emotional/body-based flashback to being in the hospital without my parents, which my tiny body and brain experienced at the time as a life-threateningly traumatic abandonment.

What I needed from my parents as a kid was an understanding of what I was experiencing, and appropriate reassurance based in that understanding when I would cry inconsolably at being left alone or not wanting to be put to bed by myself. I used to come downstairs at night panicking about something I couldn't explain (I was subconsciously afraid I'd go downstairs and there would be nobody there. I still have nightmares, even now at 28, where I wake up in the morning one day and everyone has vanished from the world except me).

What I *got* from my parents ironically just made my abandonment issues worse; they either yelled at me or ignored me when I asked for hugs or general affection, and on one occasion just left me to cry for hours until I puked, presumably out of frustration that I wasn't acting like a normal kid and they somehow thought *more* pain on top of what I was already experiencing would snap me out of it. It pretty much did the opposite, and I'm now a messed-up adult in therapy with barely any relationship with my remaining parent and a laundry list of issues to do with sleep, safety, and relating to other people.

All I needed was consistent love, hugs, and patient reassurance with me for being a kid experiencing the world for the first time and not knowing what I was feeling, how to explain it, or how to stop it hurting. Just some understanding and reassurance, gentle guidance, unconditional love, and plenty of hugs when I wanted or needed them would've done a *huge* amount for healing the abandonment issues I have and helping me be happier and more functional as an adult.

It's too late for me to fix most of my shit, but it’s NOT too late for your daughter, especially since you guys are already making up for her time away from you by holding her a lot now etc. You're gonna be a great dad, and your gf is gonna be a great mum; you've got this dude.

Oh thank G-d I was already worried that I'm going to do something wrong by being too clingy to the baby myself. Thanks for telling me about this, we've got to look up about this more. And I'm taking this as a permission to absolutely refuse to put her down. I'm clinging.

My girlfriend's taking a break, she's letting me have the baby for myself for a while. Probably at least until it's feeding time again.

16 notes · View notes

destinygoldenstar · 1 year

Text

Which Love Triangle Is Worse? (Ninjago Vs Total Drama)

Hey, this is called a sponsor, right? For advertising something? Why don’t we try it? For a book?

Destiny’s Burden. An original story by yours truly.

The world of Destiny takes place a century into the future, where Earth and all its morally questionable implications were wiped out for the sake of a utopia.

The beloved savior, Mary Sue, rescued everyone from extinction by creating a world system that would change all of humanity.

Destiny, from all the Chosen One stories you’ve heard, is the dominant force of society. Those who’ve praised Mary Sue have been granted a loving world of kingdoms with the clearest right and wrong, and lives of great fortune. Those who’ve rejected her ideals were cursed to become the Dark Lords, the villains and the black of the stories that would come.

When certain children come of age, they are granted a destiny of their own, abilities of a Chosen One, and given clear stories for them to follow and train for. Stories that would bring peace to their wonderful world, against the Dark Lords who dare to try and change it.

A generation of Chosen Ones begins with Charlie Sue, the descendent of Mary Sue herself, being assigned the task of becoming the savior of the entire land after a group of Dark Lords steal power.

With the help of a few Chosen One friends, Charlie must train for the day he claims his place as Destiny’s savior.

And if Destiny really is that pleasing of a utopia.

An original fantasy action story by yours truly. Questions are free to be asked in messaging me, and followers of my blog will, in time, get a chance to beta read parts of the story and give much needed feedback to make this a great passion project. More info coming soon.

Now, onto the post.

You know, this was easier to decide than I thought.

I know, it didn’t sound like it would at first.

Okay, lets think of a better intro...

Both of these cartoons means quite a bit to me.

I already talk about Total Drama on my blog quite a bit, to the point where I think some of my followers think I’m a TD blog. I’m not. There’s other stuff I talk about. In fact, there’s even more I could talk about with TD, and opinions I have yet to share.

However, it is an absolute CRIME in my head that I have not talked about Ninjago as much as I do with TD. I mean, I made a Skybound review awhile back, which holds up on my opinions, but that’s about it.

Why do I say this? Well because, I have the LAMEST childhood over. I did not grow up with Total Drama. I watched it when covid hit and I had nothing better to do. I didn’t even watch Avatar The Last Airbender until last year, which is NUTS.

I was more so into MLP as a kid, but I stopped watching it around Season 6, not through any puberty hit, but because my parents HATE me watching MLP. (For reasons I don’t get.) And I was also bullied heavily for liking MLP, so...

I also was obsessed with Minecraft Story Mode. (And I did make a few posts about it. They’re old, though.) It’s sad to me what happened to that series...

I also binge read the Sailor Moon manga, and I have all the books still. I watched the 90s show too, but... I honestly did not like it.

I would say, ‘what a surprise, the book is better’, but you’d be shocked to hear the Sailor Moon fandom say that the 90s anime is superior. For me... no.

Then I had one brief RWBY phase. And I mean BRIEF. In actuality, I don’t hardcore hate the show, but the one aspect of the show that prevents me from getting into it is it’s awful protagonists. I dunno, maybe I’ll make a post about that topic, because it’s astounding to me how bad their protagonists are.

And if you know me, I more so tend to have more to talk about when it comes to the flawed shows rather than shows with perfect writing. I said it over and over again, YES, I’ve watched ATLA, and Arcane. Those shows are amazing. Do you want me to praise those shows like the 7 billion other people on planet earth have?

Okay, I’m getting off track.

But there’s one show in my childhood that I distinctly remember being a part of my childhood more than any of these: That’s Ninjago.

I remember when I was around eight years old, and my sibling and I would tune in every week to watch an episode on Netflix. And I don’t even like the shows my sibling watch. But we both bonded with this show specifically. I think it has to do with this being the first show I’ve watched that wasn’t just one episode adventures. This was a show with substance, with story arcs that branch for multiple episodes, with characters to follow. Something I was not familiar with at the time.

Also Zane. Best boy. No I’m not taking criticism.

Before I even made my Tumblr account, I would write private essays talking about Ninjago. They’re terrible.

I have huge memories of this show. I WANTED to talk about this show for awhile, but couldn’t figure out what to talk about.

And then in my creative writing class, we were talking about tropes we hated.

My teacher said ‘the love triangle’. (I didn’t have that on my list, surprisingly)

It seemed like everyone, besides myself, hated the love triangle trope. And it seems very valid.

Like, just pick one love interest, darn it!

So that got me to make this post. Why a contest between these two shows?

Well they both have a love triangle that the majority of the fandom hates, they’re both known for destroying a relationship people liked, and they both take place in their Season Three.

And also, everyone hates these plotlines, so I wanted to ask myself, are they really that bad? More importantly, which is worse?

That’s what we’re here for.

Keep in mind, this is my POV on these plotlines. There’s obviously gonna be disagreement and I would love to hear your opinions when reblogging.

Also SPOILER WARNING FROM HERE ON OUT. IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED EITHER OF THESE SHOWS AND DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON’T CLICK ‘KEEP READING’. Watch the shows, and then come back.

But there’s one key factor that I think makes people lean to one argument:

Bias

My first claim is that it has to do with nostalgia of the show that springs our reactions.

When I watched the Ninjago love triangle as a kid, I was confused, cringing, and angry.

When I watched the Total Drama love triangle when I’m older, I was just like ‘okay, so we’re doing this.’

So obviously, there’s a great line of bias. As a kid, your brain hasn’t fully developed, so when bringing up a concept that isn’t black and white, and emotionally damaging, you’re gonna get heavy results.

It was the same for when Zane died in Season Three. I was a kid. I was TICKED.

Looking back now, that was an expertly built up scene and one of the best payoffs to a character arc in the show.

‘Animation is for babies’

And yet you have this:

“Are you working for Silco?”

“Fuck you”

-Arcane. (And that’s the LEAST adult thing in the show)

It’s the same thing with shipping.

Kids media are given the simplistic idea that romance is absolute. That you have one person destined for you and it will all work out.

A love triangle is... complicated, for kids heads.

So when another guy a character is in love with enters the picture, kids are gonna be confused and relatively act negative towards it. Despite the fact that love triangles... do actually exist in the real world?

Anyone remember Hamilton? Of course you do.

This is why we tend to hate Love Tringles in my eyes.

But I want to be as objective as possible with this, and discuss each storyline and their problems. So lets coin toss and decide which show we start with.

*Flips coin*

*Gets Heads*

Ninjago, it’s your lucky day.

I guess it’s fitting since I watched this show first.

Ninjago (Jay, Cole, and Nya Love Triangle)

Ninjago is a show produced by LEGO, which tells the story about a group of ninjas being assigned to face against the evils of the titular world. It’s also LEGOs biggest TV show to date.

This is more of an action superhero show than anything, and I think that’s gonna be the biggest difference here. Both shows I’m talking about have different priorities.

But I’m just focusing on the love triangle.

This plotline springs in its third season, Rebooted. It’s an eight episode long season, and the plotline gets introduced in the premiere briefly, and stays relevant all season between the three characters involved. It gets carried over to season four in that third episode, and it’s mentioned briefly in the premiere of season six. Then it ends.

People tend to hate this love triangle for a certain reason:

Why?

WHY was this love triangle needed?

I tried researching what was going on behind the scenes when the decision was made, but I could not find anything. I may be bad at research though.

My best guess is this:

Ninjago was originally supposed to end after Season Two: Legacy Of The Green Ninja. However, from the success of the show and insane toy sales, they made the decision to continue the story and make a third season. The task of continuing a story you designed to end is... daunting. For any writer.

So my biggest assumption on why they decided to do a love triangle was because they were still struggling to figure out what to do with the story of Ninjago from where they intended to end it.

I don’t hate Rebooted. Rebooted has its moments. But the season also carries a lot of lows, and this is one of them. It’s why I think most of the fandom sees this as a mid tier season overall, and pretty mixed.

So lets give context to the love before the season:

Right from the pilot episodes, one of the missions of the newly formed ninja team was to rescue the fire ninja Kai’s sister, Nya.

And the lightning ninja, Jay, says this:

“We’re saving a girl? Is she hot?”

Right off the bat, and before they even met, the writers implied that Jay was gonna have a thing for Nya, the most major girl character in the entire show.

Jay and Nya properly meet in the second pilot episode after Kai rescues her, and they exchange their favorite colors. It so happens to be blue. Flirting.

Right off the bat, there is no hate each other until they love each other bull, there is no will they or will they won’t, from the moment they met, these two have had a thing for each other.

In fact, we don’t even really do a ‘will they or will they won’t’ with them, because the flirting carries over in the proper first season of the show.

So much so that their big milestone in their relationship is in Episode 8.

Yeah. That’s quick. It’s almost impressive.

Basically, that episode has Jay trying to impress Nya, Kai tricking him into giving his sister an allergy (like the great brother he is), and despite this, Nya accepting his proposal to go on a date. Unfortunately, Jay gets his finger pricked on a snake fang, and it’s worse sounding than it sounds when you know the context of the show. Wacky hijinks ensue when their secrets of their identities clash, with Jay being a nobody from a junkyard, and Nya being a Samurai ally to the ninja and wanting to keep that a secret because of some sexist bull.

But by the end of the episode, they make up, confess their feelings, and become an official couple.

From there, there’s minimal drama between their relationship for the rest of Season One, and all of Season Two. It’s just been them flirting and praising each other, and being supportive.

There was also an episode where an evil clone of Jay kisses Nya, and tells the real Jay about it, which makes Jay so mad that he essentially MURDERS him.

Compared to Total Drama, and due to different show circumstances, this is actually a very tame thing to do.

So, Jay and Nya as a couple, pre-Rebooted, has had next to NO issues.

Now you might be wondering, if that’s the case, WHY IN THE NAME OF HECK did they decide to throw Cole into this? Where did he fit in all of this?

Well, I just rewatched all of Season One and Two for this post, and in terms of Cole and Nya interactions... there was nothing.

I’m not kidding. These two have not had ONE interaction with each other pre-Rebooted. The most is when Nya is talking to all the ninja, not Cole specifically.

So why would Nya suddenly have a thing for a guy she never talks to, when she has a good relationship with Jay?

And whatever you Total Drama people who haven’t watched Ninjago are thinking, it’s even dumber than that.

So in the premiere of Rebooted, they go to this sci-fi tour at the new Ninjago central tower... thing. The ninja are left doing plot stuff with Cyrus, and Nya is left to take care of kids and be a chaperon to a field trip. Little girls find this ‘perfect match’ machine, which is SUCH a real thing in the real world (sarcasm), and they make Nya try the machine.

And her perfect match is said to be Cole.

THAT is how Nya gets feelings for Cole.

Told you it was dumber than you think.

She did not gain feelings for Cole through any interaction with him, or other people pressuring the concept, or even her current boyfriend being any wrong to her.

No.

It’s a freaking. MACHINE.

So right at the next time Nya is focused on, she is flirting with Cole. She mistakes him referring to the students with their kids, she gives him the looks, and she’s also holding hands with him.

Yeah. Nya is essentially CHEATING ON HER BOYFRIEND.

And again, she’s only doing this because a MACHINE SAID SO.

It’s not like she’s even trying to hide it, as Jay catches them.

This makes Nya look horrendously unlikeable in the season, as you’d expect.

Why is this so OOC for her? Because there was ZERO prompting for this to happen. None.

At most, you could say that Jay’s ego made her feel lesser of relevance, but to Ninjago’s credit, they do address that... IN SEASON SIX.

So that’s not an excuse here. We’re talking about BEFORE Skybound.

Until Skybound, and I guess Tournament of Elements, Nya hasn’t had an issue with Jay’s ego. Again, in the episode where they hook up, she tells him that he doesn’t need to impress her. And they both agreed on such.

In the third episode of Rebooted, it’s revealed that PIXAL is the AI of the machine that did all of this. Not only does she not apologize or tell Nya that she should let her heart decide, but she encourages the cheating and to dump Jay.

To be fair, I don’t really hold PIXAL accountable for the love triangle. At this point in the story, she’s just a robot doing her job, and knows little about showing humanity. And she just woke up from a near death experience, so yeah, I think it’s safe to say that she was numb when she told Nya this. PIXAL is really not trying to harm anybody, or say anything personal, she’s just saying what the program of the machine told her to say.

However, Jay hears PIXAL claim that Cole is Nya’s perfect match, explaining that Nya was indeed cheating on her, and it absolutely ENRAGES Jay.

So much so that when an unexpected Cole walks into the room, Jay physically tries to beat him up.

They were friends before, and had some playful teasing in the first two seasons, but now it’s gone.

This is, deemed by many fans, one of the WORST scenes of the entire show.

I don’t blame them. I hate this scene too.

Even if you take the so called build up out, the scene is accompanied by awful dialogue and puns, so... there is NO ironically enjoying this either.

So from then on, Cole and Jay hate each other and spend the rest of the season fighting over Nya. To be fair, past this episode, it just turns into spiteful comments, and doesn’t escalate to any physical fighting until Season Four.

And it’s not like they’re trying to kill each other. Quite the opposite in fact. (Jay does oblige in saving Cole from getting lost in space, no hesitation)

So yeah, this season, because of the love triangle, assassinated all three characters involved. And mind you, I LOVE Ninjago’s protagonists. I LOVE these characters. So when I say they’re OOC here, I mean it.

I already talked about Nya and how this was out of character for her. Because the sexist BS is the biggest pet peeve I have with Nya. Otherwise, she’s very compassionate, assertive, and a girlboss with a very strong character arc throughout the entire show.

Jay does have a right to be angry. After all, he was cheated on. But I think he’s mad at the wrong person. He never blames Nya for this at all, and only pins it on Cole as a heartless monster. That’s odd to me, because Nya cheated, and he SAW THAT. I thought he would yell at her at least once, but no, instead he demands she picks him like an egotist. That’s what someone possessive would do, and Jay has NEVER done this before.

Besides, if you think about it, he’s only mad because PIXAL, an AI, said he was no good for Nya. In that case, he should be mad at PIXAL too. Sure, I said that PIXAL couldn’t help it, but if I were Jay, yelling at her would be warranted.

But nope. It’s all Cole’s fault, even though Cole was kind of a victim of circumstances.

Speaking of, why is Cole even into Nya?

Like I said, they haven’t talked before this. Cole has shown no signs of liking Nya, in fact, he seemed to support Jay and Nya as a couple. This is especially strange because Cole is the kind of character who knows exactly what he wants. If he was into Nya, he would’ve said so right away, especially before Jay even got with her.

The worst part is, the rest of the season only consists of Nya trying to decide who she likes, and the other two trying to fight for her affection. I don’t think they even mention the cheating after this. And again, it goes absolutely nowhere until Season Four, Episode Three.

In that episode, Jay and Cole are forced to fight each other by Clouse rigging the titular tournament. They’re actually not okay with this until Neuro, a guy who can read minds, escalates their rage. Then they’re okay with beating each other up with a ton of rage and grief towards each other.

Before the match, Lloyd tells them to remember who the real enemy is. He is referring to Chen. This is the driving force to the rest of the fight.

In a fight scene that is actually visually pleasing, ngl, Cole and Jay go all out until a random point in the middle where Cole decides, ‘hey, you’re not my enemy, and I never even liked Nya, so yeah, I’ll just sacrifice myself so you can stay in the game, symbolizing how you won this love triangle.’

And they make up.

Despite the little effort and prompting beforehand. Like I said, they only did this because Lloyd said so. So why are they making up now if they hate each other so much?

And then any love life plotline with Cole completely drops, and Cole is left with no love interest until Master of the Mountain. Cole and Nya have some scenes together after this, but it’s clear that they’re just friends and it never goes anywhere. And in Skybound, the love triangle is just treated as the plot device that broke up Jay and Nya, as they get back together.

So did the love triangle really amount to anything besides that?

No.

You can wipe out this plotline entirely, and not much changes. The villains don’t take advantage of that specifically, and they forget about it afterwards, with no build up beforehand.

Yeah you could argue Chen and Clouse took advantage of it, but they were after the ninja because they were spoiled the behind the scenes drama of their little game. They were threats, and an alliance, which their games try to discourage. So they would’ve set Cole and Jay up against each other anyway.

I fully understand why people hate this plotline, as it’s used for unnecessary drama. Unlike Total Drama, which uses titular DRAMA as a part of the plot’s torture, Ninjago has no reason for their drama to be unnecessary. This is not a torturous scenario Ninjago is living in, this is an action show!

I guess I can appreciate that Jay and Nya were able to recover from this and get back together. They even get married. My heart sings.

And at least in Ninjago, this plotline drama doesn’t seem to escalate, and people are able to forget about it.

Total Drama is a completely different story.

So lets talk about that.

Total Drama (Courtney, Gwen, and Duncan Love Triangle)

I talked about Total Drama quite a bit on my blog already, so I’ll be brief.

Total Drama is about a group of teenagers being scammed onto a game show to try and become celebrities. Torture ensues.

It’s far more treated like a reality show in cartoon form, I guess that’s the best way I can explain it.

Despite the fact that the love triangle here is HIGHLY loathed, even more so than Ninjago, and that I did headcanon posts of all three characters, I’ve avoided talking about the love triangle before this.

That fandom is THAT violent when it comes to this topic.

You will NEVER get the same POV about it.

So what I’m gonna say is guaranteed to tick off at least half of the people who read this.

PLEASE, just hear me out.

I don’t really ship either.

I haven’t been a hardcore Jaya fan either, but it’s the same mindset I gave to Duncney and Gwuncan. In the latter two’s case, it’s because they’re trapped under such awful circumstances, that being the show’s setting used to stress them out, screw up their heads, and torture them. And also the executives who forced this on the writers.

In the context of Total Drama’s writing staff, they didn’t want to do this either. They were forced to by the executives, who wanted to teach kids that breakups happen and you could end up with someone else.

That sounds like it has good intentions...

Until you find that the actual moral they delivered with the first breakup was that ‘If you break up with someone, the entire world will hate you. And you deserve it.’

I don’t think I need to tell you that’s a bad message.

To be fair, I’ve never been against either ship involved, so I don’t hate either.

But the canon circumstances?

OOF.

Let’s get this started:

So the first season of Total Drama is kind of a different story than with Ninjago.

Unlike Ninjago, which just had Jay and Nya as a couple and Cole was someone I assumed was ace (welcome to the club), all three people involved in the later love triangle had an established love interest and relationship.

Gwen, the third wheel and the Cole in this case, had a relationship with Trent, your typical guitar playing love interest and as generic of a love interest as you can get. But they get in a few shenanigans with Gwen being a stubborn loner, and Heather being Heather and doing one of my most hated story tropes, so they don’t get together until the end of the season.

And then in season two, Trent gets his character assassinated and becomes possessive over Gwen, OVERLY so, and it causes Gwen to break up with him because as I said in previous posts, Gwen doesn’t know how to deal with relationships.

And then the entire world treats Trent like a victim, that Gwen was the abusive one, and everyone hates Gwen.

And this is just the START of the Gwen social punching bag.

Then in season one, there was another relationship relevant to this topic: Duncan and Courtney.

They’re presented as your typical bad boy/good girl dynamic.

And they actually had fun chemistry. Ngl.

Duncan flirts with her, and Courtney tries to deny her feelings for him and masks it through lectures, claiming she hates his rude and rebellious behavior. Despite this, they keep having sexual tension, and they have a kiss in Episode 12.

You could say Ninjago has an advantage then, but keep in mind that Ninjago has 13 episodes in its season one, and Total Drama has 26 episodes. So I’d say they’re both impressive.

I would say that on an enjoyment standpoint, Duncan and Courtney, and Jay and Nya are very fun couples with fun chemistry. That’s why people liked them.

Jay and Nya however, barely had any drama going on in their relationship before Season Three.

Duncan and Courtney are a different story.

Like I said before, Courtney tried to deny her feelings for Duncan and masked it through lecturing her own love. It’s not until she finds out about Duncan’s more positive traits that she realizes she wants to be around him. Or rather, she can FIX him.

Yeah. Courtney is a fixer upper.

This is a trope in romance, and not a very good one if you ask me. Usually, I use the fixer upper to claim why a relationship would NOT work.

SHUT UP FROZEN.

And I don’t want to take this all out on Courtney and say she’s the problem. Duncan is a jerk as well. He’s a bully, he cares more about his image than being himself, and he also does stuff we’ll talk about in a minute. But in terms of the couple aspect, Courtney is the one raising the red flags in the beginning.

Now, I do think Courtney cares about Duncan and thinks she’s helping, but that is not the point. You can love your partner, and still abuse them.

Instead of these two working through their differences, Courtney just hands Duncan a list of things she wants to change about him, and is VERY strict about him following that. Prior to this, Duncan has annoyed her by trying to flirt with her, and she responds through lethal hits to the nuts, or physical punches, or mentally guilt tripping him. Prior to even that, she DITCHED him in his hour of her need for a million bucks.

Yeah, Total Drama LOVES romanticizing abusive relationships. That is a PROBLEM.

So Duncan, in his stress of the relationship, decides he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore, and he votes her off the show, breaking them up.

And then he wins a million dollars, and they get back together.

“Now you’re saying that I’m a gold digger, but check my gleam up, hey go figure.” -Six

And then in Celebrity Manhunt, they publicly humiliate each other yet again, sue each other, and break up. So what was the point of them getting back together?

I heard people claim that in this same special, they have a kiss on the bus while bickering, so that means they’re back together.

If you want to see it that way?

Courtney did.

But let me ask you this: Where in this episode was that confirmed? Where did they agree to get back together?

Exactly.

Duncan never made it clear to Courtney that they weren’t back together in his mind. They had what you called a fling. Duncan does this. He is a horndog.

This is Duncan emotionally using Courtney for his own image. See, I told you Duncan wasn’t innocent in this.

Then there’s Gwen.

Unlike Cole and Nya, Duncan and Gwen actually DID have interactions pre-season three.

In season one, their dynamic started around the slasher episode, as they bonded over their shared enthusiasm for blood and gore in movies. They orchestrate the survival plan for the challenge, and betray each other, but I don’t think either of them took it that personally. They also helped each other/bickered in the castaway episode.

Their friendship properly starts in season two, where they have friendly interactions and help each other out in challenges. Gwen even picks Duncan first to be her teammate.

It gets to a point where Trent, Gwen’s girlfriend at the time, gets jealous and thinks Gwen is hitting on Duncan. Gwen denies it and claims they’re friends, but no one believes her. In fact, when Gwen is sent to the Aftermath show and broken up with Trent, everyone accuses Gwen of dumping Trent for Duncan. Another reason why the show wants you to hate Gwen and absolutely no one else.

That is frustrating.

In the Celebrity Manhunt special, it’s revealed that Gwen DOES indeed have a crush on Duncan and just doesn’t want it to surface because he’s with Courtney. When she hears they broke up, she becomes interested again.

This is a year after season two, so we don’t know what happened that made Gwen change her mind.

Did Gwen and Duncan bond off screen?

That’s an even bigger possibility in this show than in Ninjago given the circumstances, but they never establish that they did.

Duncan quits Season Three at the start, but the producers track him down anyway. Before he returns, Courtney talks about how she misses him, and wants him back.

GWEN IS IN THESE SCENES BTW.

There’s also this exchange between Alejandro and Courtney in episode two that I noticed upon rewatch that I find interesting:

“Such witty remarks from such fiercely intelligent women. I’m both humbled and intrigued.”

“Nice try. But I’m with Duncan.”

“And what pity it is that you should give yourself to a quitter, who doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s not-Duncan is-totally-you’re just- will someone hurry this camel up?!”

Obviously, Alejandro is playing her. He is the season’s bad guy after all. He’s taking advantage of the relationship strain.

But consider how Courtney stutters when trying to defend Duncan? She’s trying to dodge any notion that Duncan would leave her. She thinks she’s doing the right thing, and can’t fathom the idea that she’s done something wrong. She doesn’t WANT to believe they’re broken up.

I’m shocked no one brings up this scene, actually.

During this, Gwen and Courtney, being on the same team, become friends from their shared hatred of Heather. Really, I think they just became friends because they’re the only non-simps, non-insane, non-horrible people on their team.

Friendships come from very unlikely places sometimes.

They didn’t really have any interactions before this. Cole and Jay had two whole seasons being on a team.

And then we get THE SCENE.

Duncan comes back, and immediately, Courtney lectures him for leaving her, then embraces him. He says that every time he ran from the cops, he thought of HER.

He’s staring at GWEN.

GWEN REALIZES THIS.

It brings her in a spiral of question late at night, and she’s clearly not thinking clearly. Are Duncan and Courtney a thing? Are they not? Does Courtney deserve him? Is Courtney a bad influence? Does Duncan like Gwen? Is Duncan interested in her?

Duncan shuts out any questions by coming into the bathroom to kiss her.

Thus, he cheats on Courtney with Gwen.

This can be interpreted in a lot of ways, but I think there’s two we can bring up.

One is the nature of Duncan’s character.

He is a horndog who cares about his image. He wants to be seen as a bad boy and not his true self. He wants is bad boy persona to be his true self. He wants validation from the people around him, so anyone who finds interest in that persona, he will bang.

He’s not sweet good intended Nya. He’s quite the opposite.

But I don’t think it’s clear what his intention was. Was he trying to escape his situation with someone he trusts? Was he trying to spite Courtney? (I mean, All Stars implies that) Was he trying to start over with a new girl? Is he using Gwen? Does he actually love Gwen?

None of these questions get answered. We are given NO clear idea why Duncan did this. That’s why there’s such a division in perspective.

They could’ve at least had a confessional where Duncan explained his intent, whatever it was, but nope.

The other factor is the influence of the show.

This is the machine from Ninjago.

This is the PIXAL, if PIXAL was a sociopath.

The show fans assumed there was something going on with Duncan and Gwen, and they pressure them into trying to admit that being the truth. EVERYONE, throughout the year, pressure this. Geoff, Heather, fans, Chris, even Courtney herself.

I talked about this in other posts, so I’ll be brief. The show screws up the morality of SEVERAL characters, to the point where they will do nasty stuff you wouldn't see them do in season one, where they were pure.

It’s very easy to assume that Gwen would only have feelings for Duncan because the show is pulling her strings.

But they don’t establish that either. That’s just my interpretation of it to try and make sense of this writing.

So take all of this with a grain of salt.

Gwen regrets the kiss afterwards, somewhat, well, only because afterwards Courtney goes on and on about how Duncan’s her boyfriend. I think Courtney’s just rubbing this in because she knew Gwen was crushing, and wanted to keep her away from him.

I guess you could say Courtney is Total Drama’s Tsundre.

That makes a lot more sense in a minute.

Gwen and Duncan discuss the matter of Gwen kissing Courtney’s boyfriend in a song. Duncan sings he has no regrets, and Gwen reminds him of Courtney. They both agree that they should stop with the secrets and come clean. They know what will happen, so it’s better to just tell the truth.

Then Duncan gets mauled by a bear, so they have to wait until after the challenge.

But then Alejandro figured it out and outs it to Courtney, ruining it.

Courtney IMMEDIATELY becomes bloodthirsty on Gwen, and next to EVERYONE joins Courtney in berating Gwen. (Except Cody)

This scene, alongside the Jay and Cole scuffle, hurts to watch.

But I will confess, I prefer to watch the Total Drama fallout scene, because I think the voice acting in the scene is better. You can feel Courtney’s heartbreak as she screams at her nonstop, and the sinister craziness awakening in her. And Gwen CRYING?! REGRETTING what she did?!

Come on, there’s at least SOME value here besides Cody getting a dub.

Even if it is little value besides Cody getting a dub.

From here on out, EVERYONE on the plane (Again, except Cody) HATE Gwen’s guts. They will not let her forget what she did. They will never give her a single iota of grey area besides ‘You suck Gwen, we hate you, the entire world hates you, and you deserve to be hated. Go jump off a plane and die so we can have a party about it.’

Gwen and Duncan even try to apologize, but no one takes it.

This is like Cole and Jay, only it’s not just Jay berating Cole, it’s EVERYONE.

I think I would’ve stopped watching Ninjago for years if that was the case, because that would’ve been PAINFUL to watch.

Courtney is the key factor of this hate club, and rallies everyone up to hate on Gwen and Duncan and try to remove them. Sierra, Heather, Tyler, Alejandro, who the last one WANTED to happen as he’s now in control of her.

And unlike Jay, Courtney actually DOES berate the cheater for what they did. Deserved.

But then again, at least Jay doesn’t sing a song about trying to kill the other point of the triangle.

50/50.

To Courtney, this is all a serious betrayal. Gwen and Duncan were the only people Courtney allowed herself to open up to, and then they betray her. She has a right to be mad, but not a right to her actions driven by the madness.

For Gwen, Duncan is now the only person she can feel safe with. People tend to cling to the kindness in their life that’s the closest to them. This is why Gwen chooses to stay with Duncan and ignore all the hate she’s getting. She needs love in this moment.

And then Duncan tries to play Alejandro by pretending to still be into Courtney. It’s an act, but still.

We never see on screen if Duncan explained himself and apologized to Gwen.

Ninjago had a whole season and three episodes worth of love triangle drama.

Total Drama only has three episodes.

And then it abruptly ends unconcluded.

Courtney wanted to get revenge on Gwen by dumping her off the plane and making Duncan jealous of her.

Technically, she WON.

She gets Gwen out, and she, not intentionally, uses Scott to make Duncan jealous, which causes Gwen to leave him.

Sorry, getting ahead of myself.

Now lets address All Stars.

You could argue this focuses on the love triangle as well, and... kinda? But, All Stars seems to bail on EVERY plotline World Tour had. I have NO IDEA why this is, as unlike Rebooted, World Tour is a FAN FAVORITE SEASON. But they bailed on everything.

And it’s clear that the writers had no objective with giving the love triangle an ending.

The season is more so focused on Courtney finding a new boyfriend in Scott, that she plans to use, Duncan being thrusted into a heroes position and wanting to be a bad guy again, and Gwen, once again, being hated by everybody around her.

Duncan and Gwen have NO romantic scenes together, and Gwen constantly shuts him out in favor of trying to make things right with Courtney. The girl she BETRAYED.

She also claims that Duncan was not Courtney’s boyfriend at the time, thus she didn’t do anything wrong...

I’m ASSUMING Duncan told Gwen that story to get her on his side. THAT would make sense of this phrase. BUT the writers never establish that.

And again, Duncan only gets jealous because Gwen’s ignoring him when he’s trying to help, and Courtney’s finding a new slave to give her the win. My assumption is that he’s trying to strike up a conversation with Gwen, considering Gwen wanted to make things right with Courtney, but again, no establishment that this is Duncan’s motive.

So Gwen gets fed up with that, and dumps Duncan, shutting him out of her life.

This scene is SO QUICK, that it feels like an afterthought. There’s no blowout, there’s no prompting, there’s no remorse for the action later besides one Duncan confessional, it’s just ‘okay, they’re broken up now, Gwuncan haters can chill the F out.’

Is that the motive? What about the people who liked Gwuncan as a concept and wanted to see more of them?

Here’s a writing tip: If your fans don’t like an aspect of your story, DON’T bail out of it. WORK on it. MAKE IT BETTER.

In my series that I’m doing, Destiny’s Burden, a lot of my beta readers didn’t like one of my characters at first. They considered her insufferable, annoying, selfish, and stereotypical. But instead of writing that character out of the plot, I took the time to give that character development, and have them develop less of a spoiled personality. Now that character is a fan favorite among my beta readers.

THIS IS WHERE YOU DO THAT, BUT WITH THE LOVE TRIANGLE.

THIS IS WHERE YOU WRITE IT BETTER.

And then there’s the last part of this. Gwen and Courtney making up.

Unlike Tournament of Elements, which threw in the forgiveness at the last minute, Gwen actually puts in the effort beforehand to be friends with Courtney again. She tries REALLY hard actually.

Gosh, I CANNOT believe I’m saying ALL STARS did something better than THE TOURNMENT OF ELEMENTS. WHAT AM I ON?!

And, looking at the Cole and Jay tournament fight, and the Gwen and Courtney boxing match... this is the same scene.

This is literally the same scene, minus the sacrifice Ninjago had.

They duke it out, they beat each other, and they apologize in the middle, explaining that they never missed the girl/guy, they just missed each other, and they make up and become friends again.

I prefer the Ninjago scene though, because it’s way more visually pleasing, and the dialogue seems more sincere to me. Courtney and Gwen’s ‘apology’ is so corny I can’t-

So what is the ending of Total Drama’s love triangle? Courtney and Gwen become best friends in la la land, they trash over Duncan, and cheer when he’s thrown in jail.

And then Courtney betrays Gwen, making all the love and support Gwen got back meaningless. But hey, that’s not relevant to this topic.

Most people in the fandom claim that this was character assassination on all three characters. Just like I said with Ninjago.

Here’s the thing: Total Drama has more episodes around this time. Ninjago didn’t. I know NOW it’s not a contest on which show had more episodes, but looking at it, Ninjago, in four seasons, had 44 episodes, and Total Drama, in four seasons, had 91.

This is a double edge sword, as on one hand Total Drama has more to work with. On the other, Total Drama has more to work with.

After all, like I said, we are given no clear motive for why Duncan even cheated, or didn’t tell Courtney that they weren’t together anymore. Gwen was cheated on technically in season one, and here she is doing that same emotional betrayal in season three to Courtney. And again, the whole ‘he wasn’t your boyfriend’.

There’s multiple instances where literally ONE MORE SCENE of ANY part of this plotline could’ve helped it make more sense. But no. The writers just really did not want to write this. Again, they were forced to. It shows.

But I will say this, unlike with Ninjago’s love triangle, the Total Drama love triangle is SEVERELY plot relevant. You CAN’T write it out.

Everyone says they should’ve just written it out... how?

Every fanfic I’ve seen that’s written the love triangle out actively made the story less interesting, and gave the three characters involved nothing to do.

The villains, again, take advantage of the situation to give themselves plot armor. This is how Alejandro uses Courtney. She would’ve never helped him otherwise. This is what makes Heather jealous, prompting the last quarter of World Tour. This is what season two’s Gwen bashing has built up to. This is what makes Gwen the biggest social punching bag of the entire show. This is what spawns Gwen to become a villainous vulture. This is the start of Duncan’s downfall, and his mental distress getting him behind bars later.

You NEED the love triangle to be a thing for the story to make any sense.

I’m sorry, but that’s what I see.

Which is Worse?

Now to answer the money question.

Which plotline is worse?

This is REALLY subjective. So take it with a grain of salt.

Both of these plotlines have huge issues. They are both dampers to their season three.

Ninjago had a worse motive, a more pathetic fight, dragged on, and had no plot relevance whatsoever.

Total Drama had a more unlikeable cast participating, poor establishment of motive, ended way too quickly, and suffered from no ending.

I think we can both agree on the quality on both of these plotlines.

It really depends on which plotline I would prefer to watch a compilation of over and over again.

And in that sense...

I think I’d pick Total Drama as the better one.

This is for a few reasons:

One is that Total Drama is a far more morally grey show, so its characters are far more morally grey than with Ninjago. It’s more believable that the TD characters would do stuff so spiteful towards each other, than the Ninjago characters. This makes it so that you can see everyone’s point of view, and the plotline becomes welcome for multiple interpretations.

Two is that there was SOME build up to the cheating. You could say that it was bad build up, but at least it WAS build up. What build up was there in Ninjago? Oh yeah, none.

Three is that Total Drama’s plotline is actually plot relevant. If I have to watch the love triangle to watch World Tour, I’ll watch it. I won’t skip it. If I skip it, I know I’ll miss vital information for the rest of the story.

That said, though I say Ninjago is the worse plotline, it does have an advantage of having a better makeup scene, and an actual ending. And the characters were able to recover because of that.

Because, with all six of these characters, I DO like them all. I want the best for them (even if Duncan arguably doesn’t deserve it)

But let me know your thoughts. Would you agree? Disagree? Is there something I missed? Let me know.

27 notes · View notes

expressions-lsr · 1 year

Text

The Way We Perceive

By Vandya Bisaria

December 3, 1989

Outside, there are birds singing and trees whistling to the tunes of the wind. In my home, there is peace and contentment, which mirrors the feelings that ripple like a tranquil stream inside me. I write in this diary when I am overcome by profound emotion and today is just one of those days. Thankfully, the emotion that overwhelms today is not anxiety or sorrow. No, today I just feel thankful for being able to exist in this world. My mother, however, fears the days I smile more than she fears the days I cry. It seems to me, that to her and to the world, I should be in a constant state of lament and should always be wondering the “what-if” to lead to a better world for me. They do not realise that the problem is not with me or with my dysfunctional legs but rather with the world. It is the outsiders who invade my privacy and stick their glowering eyes into my life and make me lose my sanity. My mother hides my disproportionate legs in a blanket and the world tries to put my head in there too. But I refuse to hide, at least due to this affliction.

Anyway, that is not what I wish to recount. I have managed to keep this space free of the world’s opinions just like the world has kept itself free of mine.

Today is December 3rd, the day my Mr. Darcy has her birthday. I must call her by the name of this popular, revolutionary protagonist lest someone read my diaries and use them to arrest her. As you know already, the people around me have tunnel vision. Like that of a horse whose peripheral vision has been blocked with thick, black cloth and who can only be led by the pull and push of the reins of its driver. That is what everyone around me is like, they are driven forward, stopped or pulled backward based on the whims of someone who only uses them for his own benefit.

My mother read my diary when I was 9 and she saw what I wrote for a girl in our class. She admonished me immediately and stated,“How do you think you will survive in this world, being disabled and being like this too?” She tore the page apart with her fingers as easily as her words tore apart my heart. At first, I felt guilt and shame but later I just felt rage. Now, I feel only pity for those who so glamorously fail to understand.

My Mr. Darcy never celebrated her birthday with balloons, candles or decorations simply because she could never see them. Even as her parents tried to decorate the house, she simply refused. She was always rebellious like that and since it was her birthday, she did not want another thing to remind her of her loss of vision.

I distinctly remember when she huddled close to me during one of our weekly workshops. It was the month of June - it was a sweltering, bristling day and yet she had wrapped her arms around my shoulders and begun weeping. When her sobbing stopped, I asked her what had happened. She refused to speak of the incident but only whispered before falling silent, “Sometimes I wonder if seeing things makes us unable to truly see them. It is me who cannot see people, but it is the people who cannot see beyond my loss of sight. Is it me who is blind or is it them?”

She never complained again of her loss of sight. She used to be exasperated and so, so agitated that her life would have been “normal” had she been treated properly at the vulnerable age of two years old. The doctors at her local government hospital refused to see the baby because of her olive skin and by the time her parents drove to another hospital, it was already too late. Irreparable damage done. A life changed forever.

My mother says I am fortunate in this, that my skin is pearly white and my eyes the deep blue of the ocean. Had I been like Mr. Darcy, she always shakes her head when she says, I would have been in a very different situation. I believe her but I do not condone her reasons.

Mr. Darcy and I celebrated her 18th birthday in the storage room of the Care Centre where we went for community sessions. She sat on my lap easily, after falling almost twice and even then, trusting me to direct her. I brought her a pastry and we giggled and laughed for three hours before the voices of our caretakers grew too loud to ignore and she had to leave. My paralysed legs ached from the loss.

The next time I went to the Care Centre, she was absent. Our caretaker mentioned that she was sick with the flu so she could not attend the session. She was sick for the next one as well. And then the next. And the next.

I found out after three months that she had moved with her family to another state, ten thousand miles away. The entire Black community was moving and her parents thought it would be safe to travel with them and not remain as isolated units. It was fortunate that they left when they did because a month after I received this news, my fellow brethren set fire to the homes of those left behind. Brethren, they say, out of love. Brethren, I say, out of malice.

It seems that even in how unfortunate I am, there are others who are even more unfortunate than me. Just like there is diversity in ability, there seems to be diversity in disability too.

It has been ten years since she left. My other friends, the “normal” ones, often mentioned that I must feel fragmented. Broken. Like a part of me was missing. Shy, timid me could never tell them that this was not true. I was too afraid to offend those friends but I never felt fragmented. I have never known what it is to walk on my legs. I have felt fascinated, seeing others do it, but I have never felt what it is like to actually walk. This is a hard truth for people to grasp. It seems like there is a disability of thought that exists in them. And they never try to alter it. There are a few who venture to talk to me, most of them are afraid of saying the wrong things and others just do not care.

After Mr. Darcy, I knew what belonging felt like. I knew what love was supposed to feel like. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling that started from where my heart beat and spread throughout my entire body. Even my sensationless limbs could not block that completeness and light from spreading through my whole being. After Mr. Darcy left, I knew what it felt like to miss a piece of myself. Like someone had snatched away a part of me and never given it back. We are, all of us, made of experiences – with people, without people. There is this loneliness which gnaws at me, which wishes for true community. But people are afraid and so am I.

I have made progress even though it has taken me time. I have tried over the years to feel the yearning without the loss, the sweet without the bitter, the love without the pain.Not for my sake but for Mr. Darcy’s. I do not wish to be so solemn on her birthday.

My mother says that things are getting better now. That the world is changing and people are becoming more accepting, more concerned, more tolerant. I think the only thing that is changing now is that people like me are not invisible anymore - they are more popular objects of pity and sympathy. And it is a privilege, only available to those like me, who have the same skin as I do. My mother tells me I should be grateful for it. I feel anything but.

There is this interrelatedness that exists in who we are. A multidimensional story. A kaleidoscope, where different colours and beads and patterns merge together to form a different mosaic each time. My disability characterises me but does not define me.

Maybe the world is changing and I do not resent its progress. But I wonder if it will change fast enough for me and for all those Mr. Darcies hiding behind blankets which serve as shrouds to their voices…”

“Till then I continue to camouflage like so many others and find community in those who I have never seen or heard.” Professor Ramsay snapped the book shut and took an exuberant step to the front of the classroom. “You see, the author’s thinking was so ahead of its time that she inspired Kimberley Crenshaw to come up with the term ‘Intersectionality’ in 1989. Feminism inspired this debate and disability has gone hand in hand with other narratives and perspectives ever since. It was a great feat the author achieved and it is something you should all take inspiration from. Think about the glory and the pride when you reach a level no one thought you could…”

At the back of the class, an introverted, Asian Americantransboy tuned out the words of his Professor. The author was a they, first of all, not a she. They were someone who did not want to glorify their disability. They did not achieve something despite their disability, they simply achieved it. They did not wish to be normal, they were normal, just different. Different, kind, intelligent, attractive.

He looked around the room and saw the same realisation sink into each and everyone in the Community Care Centre. They all had different experiences, different lives, different aspirations. They did not need to be Stephen Hawking or John Nash or Frida Kahlo. They could just be themselves and that would be enough. Even if not for the world, at least for themselves.

He turned back to the rambling Professor and raised his hand. If change was needed, it had to begin somewhere.

2 notes · View notes

myveryownfanfiction · 2 years

Text

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE DNI

HAVE AGE IN BIO

OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

warnings: verbal/written abuse, swearing, snape, possible unhealthy coping mechanisms, friends not being able to count on friends

AN: this is going to be long. I’ll have something different and more cheerful up for tomorrow. Promise.

my hand trembled as I signed the letter. It wouldn’t be received well anyway, having an owl delivering anything never was, but it was for my sanity this year. Having one holiday where I felt at ease and at home. If it went well, if I liked how it felt, I’d keep staying. Or at least for as long as I could. five years had gone by so fast and I knew the next two would as well but by then I could join the wizarding world for good and I never had to look back. It would hurt to leave the only place I could call home but hogwarts would always be there. I was good at charms and maybe I could try to get a teaching position when I graduated. But I had two years to figure that out.

It took two days for a response. I was glad to have been a muggle born in that moment. I distinctly remember the howler that sirius black got. The way his mothers voice filled the hall. The way he couldn’t do anything to stop it. All because he had done the same thing I was doing now. And the fact my muggle parents wanted nothing to do with magic meant that if the letter got too bad I could simply stop reading and that would be that. I swallowed as sirius sat down next to me before gently putting a hand on my leg.

“that their response?” I nodded. “Want me to read it first?” I shook my head. “Want me to stay here just in case?” I nodded again. Sirius squeezed my leg and reached across the table for a cinnamon roll. “I’ll be right here then.” He started eating as I unfolded the letter. ‘Dear (Y/N),

Who the fuck do you think you are? Spending Christmas at that school instead of at home where you belong? What the hell do you think you are trying to prove? They send students home for a reason but I guess you failed at even that. Stay if you want but don’t expect there to be any gifts if you do. And don’t expect them to be here when you come back at the end of the year. If we let you back. Why we didn’t kick you out when you got that damn letter is still a mystery. If you stay the holidays, let that headmaster know you will require a new place to stay and money but you know what he’ll suggest in order to earn it. if you don’t you’re dumber than we thought and that’s saying something. And if you even think about using your magic to continue to attend that school, we will be taking it up with the proper authorities.

Remind your teachers that we need to talk to them about your poor work ethics and that they are supposed to let us know when your grades are slipping. We can only assume that being the lying bitch you are you never told them. I guess you’re magic isn’t worth anything if you can’t do something as simple as remember to ask for help. Do so or we will be paying a visit to the school to inform them ourselves. The same with the headmaster. Write back to us right away, the correct way, telling us you have done as you are told and include the information we have asked for. If not, well let’s just say you aren’t going to like the consequences. You’re lucky we haven’t pull you out of that damn school. Yet. We’ll be waiting for you at kings cross in a week. mom and dad’

It felt like my throat was closing up as I folded the letter back up. Sirius glanced at me before going back to what he deemed his breakfast.

“everything ok?“ his hand was back on my leg.

“no.” I choked out. Sirius removed his hand and waited for me to put the letter in it. He flicked it open and read it.

“oh shit.” He forgot about his breakfast As his eyes scanned over the contents of the letter. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My shoulder shook with the effort to keep my emotions in check. Sirius slipped his arm over them as I made to get up. I looked at his Face in fear before submitting to his care. “I’m staying this year. So is remus And Peter. We’ll keep an eye on you.” I shook my head.

“and potter?” I scoffed. Sirius bit his lip. Remus had joined us as we stared each other down. I glanced at his face before shaking my head again. “Right. What protection can you offer me from your own friend Sirius? face it the only reason we get along is because magic or not some families are shit. If James had his way we wouldn’t have anything else in common. So thanks but no thanks. I’ll figure it out on my own.” I took my letter back, angry tears burning my eyes as I stood up and fled the great hall. In my mind there was only one place to go. the potions classroom. James potter wouldnt dare set foot down there unless he had to and the slytherins wouldn’t bother me if they thought that I was just trying to better myself in a class everyone had trouble with. I brushed past students heading to breakfast as I repeated the contents of the letter in my head. Tears started to spill just as I reached the dungeons. Slytherins looked at me curiously as I pushed past them before I finally found the door I was looking for. Without looking up, I reached for the handle. I jumped back when my hand brushed another.

“sorry.” We both breathed out. My eyes met with the dark brown eyes of Severus snape.

“Severus. Sorry. I… sorry.” I shook my head as I quickly wiped at some of the tears.

“(Y/N)? Are you ok?” He reached towards me gently as I kept wiping tears away. My laugh was shaky as I realized I didn’t even think of the one slytherin that wouldn’t even question why a gryffindor was practicing potions let alone why I was. Severus looked at me with a worried expression before he gently grabbed my wrist. “No you’re not. Come on. I know somewhere we can go. You have a free period right?” I nodded as he gently tugged Me along. “So do I. We can stay there until the next.“ I followed him blindly as he led me past the throngs of students, up to the third floor and down an abandoned corridor. We passed and empty wall once. Twice. Three times before a door appeared. Despite all I had just been through, my eyes widened in shock and my head whipped over to look at Severus. “Cool right?” I nodded as he pushed through the door and we entered a room that could only be described as a combination of the gruff indie and slytherin common rooms. I put my bag down by the door and Severus set his down on the other side.

“what is this place?” I asked as I looked around. The fireplace roared to life and Severus led the way over to it. Just like in the gryffindor common room, there was a cubby where we could sit and that seemed to be the plan. “It’s incredible. Does it always look like this?” I wiped my eyes again and Severus smiled at the sudden inquisitiveness that I was displaying.

“It’s called the room of requirement. It changes to whatever the person needs. Right now we need something comforting. So it created this room.“ Severus raised a brow at the red and gold decorations in the room but waved a hand at them. “You feel most comfortable in the gryffindor common room and I feel most comfortable in the slytherin common room so they combined.“ I nodded as Severus sat down next to the fire. I joined him and turned So I was staring at the fire.

“comfortable.“ I nodded. ”definitely something I need right now.“ I sighed as Severus put his hand on my shoulder, a stark contrast to Sirius with his hand on my leg. Less territorial. more careful. Less confident. More….friendly.

“do you want to talk about why you were running crying to the potions room?” My shoulders fell in despair. I half heartedly held up the folded letter that was still clasped in my hand. “This?” I nodded as I returned my focus to the fire, not wanting to see one of the few people I could call a friend finally finding out what my family was like. I mentally scoffed. As if I could actually call the marauders my friends. Severus on the other hand. Maybe I could call him my friend. Which did admittedly cause a few issues with our houses but talent recognized talent and stuck together. “What are you going to do?” His voice snapped me out of my trance. I tore my eyes away from the fire to look at him. There was genuine concern and worry in his eyes. And he was normally so good at hiding his emotions.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged before shifting in my seat. “I don’t think they really mean it. But then again sometimes,” I trailed off. Severus reached for my hand. “Sometimes they are. And i can’t tell.“ I held onto his hand like it was a lifeline. “If I stay, I have no where to go. Or I might have never come back here.” Severus squeezed my hand again. “If I go home, I might not come back. or I might not have a place to go.” Severus nodded before looking at the letter in his other hand.

“i have an idea.” He said after a pause. “What if you told them you were going to use the holidays to work on your skills? Get extra help from the professors? They couldn’t say no to that.“ I blinked at him in surprise. “And I’m sure you could get mcgonagall to fake a letter. Slughorn too. Maybe even flickwit. If not I can forge his. Then send them home say once a week or every two weeks. I’m sure we could even get dumbledore in on it if they so wished.” There was a beat of silence. I threw myself at Severus and hugged him tight, much to his surprise. His arms wrapped around to keep us upright and quickly tightened.

“Severus! That’s brilliant!” My voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I don’t know how you came up with that but it’s perfect!” Severus tightened his grip before rubbing my back. “The best part is I get to stay here and do whatever I want with them none the wiser! thank you!”

“you’re welcome.” Severus‘s quiet baritone seemed to vibrate through me. I pulled back enough to look him in the eye.

”I mean it Severus. I’m really thankful.“ he nodded before we separated and continued to enjoy the comfort of the fire.

“what are you going to do about potter?” His question cut through the comfortable silence. I made a face. “Oh come on. I know he’s as much a problem for you as he is me. Even with you hanging around with the other three.“ I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“you’re right. Even if I don’t want to admit it.“ I gently pushed his shoulder with mine. Severus smiled as I kept leaning against him. “I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll just deal with him when it comes time to.” There was a beat of silence. “you’re staying too right?” Severus nodded as he leaned his head against mine.

“yeah. Which puts me in the same spot as you.” I nodded in agreement. “Except I don’t have the other three to come pick up the pieces afterwards.”

“don’t say that. Cuz they don’t.“ I bit out harshly. “All they do is ignore what he had just done and try to make me forget that he does it.“ there was a silence that settled over us then. I took a deep breath before turning to look at him, making Severus lift his head up. “what I was going to suggest was we spend more time in here. We can work on whatever we need to and practice or just come here to read. Enjoy each other’s company as it were.“ Severus nodded. “It has the added perk of avoiding James potter as well.“

“that actually sounds lovely.” Severus agreed before looking into the fire. “Probably will be the best holidays I’ve ever had.” I nodded in agreement.

“so it’s settled. I’ll send you an owl at breakfast if we’re going to meet up and it’ll have a list of things I need to work on and any supplies we’ll need. Then we meet up in the corridor and find the room for the day.“ Severus nodded and we shook on it. I saw his watch peeking out from his shirtsleeve. “Oh shit. We have to go. Ten minutes before first period is over. We can just beat the masses back down to the dungeons in time for potions.” Severus checked his watch himself as i tossed the letter into the fire. We collected our belongings. Just before we left, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “seriously Severus. Thank you.” I got a glimpse of his pale pink cheeks before the door appeared and we exited the room. Trying to lighten the mood, I hitched my bag up my shoulder. “Race ya to the dungeons.” I tagged his shoulder and took off down the hall. I just missed the eye roll Severus sent my way as he started down the hall, calling after me.

#severus snape #Severus snape x reader #severus snape fanfic #severus snape imagine #severus snape fanfiction #Harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry Potter imagine #alan rickman #alan rickman fanfic #alan rickman fanfiction #alan rickman imagine #alan rickman x reader

128 notes · View notes

moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly.

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical.

Requests: - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles --

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino

comment/message to be added 😊

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fan Fiction #Spencer Reid fan fiction #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer read x y/n #Dr. Spencer reid #dr. reid

1K notes · View notes

inadaydream99 · 3 years

Text

Love is Magical

A/N - This has been sitting in my drafts for ages now, but I thought I would post while I’m working on some requests! I don’t typically write magical au style oneshots (if this even counts as one 😂) but I loved the idea! I really hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: You are madly in love with your best friend Seungmin and are desperate for him to see you as something more, so you use a love potion on him. But what happens when he doesn’t act any different around you?

This is it. The very moment you have been waiting for. You bite down on your bottom lip anxiously, eyes focused on Seungmin as he picks up his drink and begins to raise it towards his mouth.

You’d slipped a little love potion into it without him realising, wanting to finally make him notice you as more than just a friend.

You were lucky that you’d come across the recipe for the love potion while searching through some old books in the library. For once, the fact you had left your potions homework to the last minute had worked out for the better. Well, in theory.

You had reasoned with yourself that making the potion to give to Seungmin was like killing two birds with one stone. Firstly, it could count as you carrying out your potions task because you could see how it works in practice, and secondly, you’d get the guy you’d been crushing on since first year to fall for you.

You hold your breath as you watch the glass reach his lips, the clear liquid rushing towards his mouth.

You remain silent for a few minutes, discretely eyeing Seungmin to see if anything happens. But he simply continues to talk with Jeongin like before.

“(Y/N), what did you do for the potions work?” Felix grabs your attention, his warm smile making you momentarily forget your train of thought. It’s not an out of the blue question because that’s the class you’ve all got after lunch.

“Love.” You simply state, everyone’s attention now on you.

“You chose love potions? Boring!” Hyunjin jokes, falling silent when Seungmin wacks him around the back of the head. You snicker at the pout that forms on his lips, sulking like a little child.

“Well I think that’s really lovely. I mean, who doesn’t love love.” Seungmin beams at you.

“Thanks.” You smile back, trying to get a better read of him. You distinctly remember when reading about the potion that it’s effects are immediate. Except, you don’t see any difference in him yet.

“Ouch!” You cry, grabbing onto your shoulder as you stumble backwards. It serves you right for not looking where you’re going. But man, has that wall always been there?

“What happened?” Seungmin comes rushing into your room in a panic.

“I hit my shoulder.” You struggle, eyes clasped shut as your hand holds tightly over the spot you just wounded.

“Here, let me make it better.” Seungmin soothes you, placing the palm of his hand on top of yours as it holds your shoulder. The way he smiles down at you makes your breath hitch in your throat. His gaze so longing and care filled that your heart races just that little bit faster.

Of course, this is nothing out of the ordinary, being so close to him that these moments of affection and skinship are a normal part to your friendship.

“All better?” He questions after removing your hands away and placing a gentle peck on your clothed shoulder. Again, something that isn’t out of the ordinary. It’s happened hundreds of times between you, almost like a tradition passed on from your parents who used to kiss your wounds better when you were kids.

“Yes.” You squeak out, barely able to speak from how flustered he has made you.

“Good because I wanted you to help me take out the trash.” He laughs, dragging you away before you have a second to comprehend his words, let alone complain.

“Why isn’t he acting any different!” You mumble to yourself in confsion, flicking through the pages of the potions book impatiently.

You were annoyed and confused as to why you weren’t seeing any difference in Seungmin’s behaviour towards you. The potion should have worked, but now you’re not so sure you made it correctly. After all, it was your first attempt and you’re only just about getting a pass in that class.

“Ah ha!” You grin, finally turning to the page you were in search of. Scanning down the list of ingredients you realise that you’d made the potion exactly as stated. It should have worked then.

“Oh.” You gasp, eyes widening upon reading the paragraph at the bottom of the page. It states that if you use the love potion on someone who is already in love then it will have no effects on them at all.

Your whole body deflates instantly... this is why you should read things properly, because then you would have realised sooner than Seungmin is already in love with someone. And as you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces, you come to the conclusion that you don’t want to know who he’s in love with...

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)? She’s been avoiding me all day and won’t answer any of my messages.” Seungmin worriedly asks around the group, peering at each person to see if they have any answer.

His gaze locks on Felix’s guilt stricken face. He can barely look Seungmin in the eye and that instantly gives away that he knows something the others don’t.

“Felix!” Seungmin rushes after him as he tries to get away quick. “You know something. Tell me.” Seungmin demands, stopping his friend in his tracks by grabbing onto his shirt sleeve.

“I promised I wouldn’t.” Felix remains vigilant, refusing to give in.

“Please, (Y/N)’s my bestest friend. We tell each other everything... or at least I thought we did.” Seungmin guilts Felix into revealing what has being going on, his disheartened expression and pained gaze helping him find out everything he wants to know.

The only reason Felix knows is because he’d found you in tears. You couldn’t hold in your heartbreak after finding out Seungmin is already in love and so you’d confided in Felix about everything, from using the potion on Seungmin to your feelings about said boy.

Felix was very understanding and empathetic, his kind nature making him easy to be vulnerable around. But one thing you should have known is that Felix is easily guilt tripped and Seungmin is cunning, he would have realised your abnormal behaviour instantly.

“(Y/N)~” Seungmin calls out as he reaches the roof. Stepping out into the cold chill he locks his gaze on your hunched over figure.

“How’d you find me?” You mumble through a sniffle, letting your tears continue to fall freely down your face as you clasp your cape around you to shield your body from the wind.

So your decision to hide out on the roof wasn’t the wisest. But you wanted to be somewhere no one else would already be. It seemed like the best option at first.

“Felix spilled everything.” Seungmin informs, gently pulling your body into his in an attempt to provide some more warmth. Your head snaps up to meet his.

If he knows about the love potion and how you feel about him, why isn’t he mad at you? Instead he seems to look just as pained as you feel.

“I hate seeing you upset.” He whispers, answering your thoughts. It’s like he can read your mind, that you two have such a strong connection he knows how you feel without the need for you to say anything.

“I’m sorry.” You croak, voice hoarse from all your crying.

“Never appologise for the way you feel.” He smiles at you sympathetically.

“I mean for using a potion on you. It was wrong...” You admit remorsefully, shying away from his intense stare. You feel guilty for everything you’ve done and seeing the affection Seungmin gives you makes you feel even worse. You’re not worthy of it.

“I just wish you’d realised before putting yourself through all of this.” He whispers, his eyes staring into yours with a deep, heartfelt affection.

“I know.” You halfheartedly laugh, shying your gaze away in a light panic.

“The potion didn’t have any effect on me because the way I am towards you is already how someone treats the person they are in love with.” Your head snaps back in an instant.

“Huh?” You gawk at Seungmin, heat crawling up the back of your neck when you hear his soft chuckle.

“I’m in love with you dummy.”

“Really?” You tilt your head, almost refusing to believe him. For all you know this could just be some cruel joke, revenge for your selfish use of potions.

But all of that worry disappears when Seungmin leans in and connects your lips softly. They melt together instantly, time seeming to freeze for those few seconds you share together.

“Do you believe me now?” He pulls away with an amused expression, his lips ghosting yours tauntingly.

“I think I’m gonna need a little more convincing.” You smirk, giggling giddily when Seungmin pulls you back in and connects his lips to yours once again.

#stray kids oneshots #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids seungmin #skz fluff #skz oneshots #skz imagines #kpop fluff #kpop oneshots #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

96 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 3 years

Text

Life on Stage - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Life On Stage

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 1,139 words

Warning(s): mentions of John Winchester

Summary: (Pre-Show) Sam wanted to be normal, so he decided to audition for a play at one of the many high schools he went to. Through that, he found someone to help him... truly help him.

Author's Note: I remember this distinctly because why did they just casually mention that Sam was a part of theatre and then just never talk about it again? I like to think it was his attempt to rebel and live a "normal life" before he could actually leave his dad.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

---------------------------------------

I took a deep breath before walking over to Sam, the boy who had been cast opposite me in Our Town. He seemed sweet, a little closed off, but sweet nonetheless.

"Umm, hi," I said awkwardly.

Yeah, 16, not a great age for my self-esteem so it's not easy for me to talk to someone that I perceived as cute.

"Hi," he smiled at me, making my heart beat out of my chest.

"I just... Sorry... I thought I'd properly introduce myself since we're gonna be seeing each other a lot," I explained. "Plus, I know you're new so it'd probably be nice to have a friend... or just someone to talk to, y'know?"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied. "Well, I'm Sam."

"(Y/n)," I grinned, shaking his hand. "So, I don't know if you're busy or not but there's this diner that a lot of kids hang out at. Do you wanna go? We can talk about the school or the show or... anything?"

Jesus Christ, I'm an absolute mess. He probably was scared of me.

"Sure," he nodded. "That sounds great."

"Cool," I said. It was a Friday, so that's why I was offering it. "Umm... wanna go now?"

"I was hoping," he replied.

"Right, right, duh," I chuckled. I turned around, leading him out of the auditorium and through the halls. I felt like an absolute idiot.

We walked through the front door. There was an impala waiting there, rock music blaring from its speakers. I looked over when I heard Sam sigh.

"My brother," he explained quickly. "Just... Give a second and then we can go."

He jogged over to the car, leaning into the passenger window to talk to his brother. After a minute, he took a few steps back and his brother drove off.

"Sorry, had to tell him he didn't need to drive me home," he said. I nodded, saying that it was okay. "Where's your car?"

"Oh, I don't drive to school," I shrugged. "Everything is pretty close by."

Sam nodded.

"Come on," I said before starting the walk to the diner.

We spent the afternoon in a booth together. We ate and talked. He told me about how his family moved around a lot, how his brother and dad weren't excited about his role in the play, and how his mom died when he was just a baby.

I shared my family's story with him. The same small town my whole life, my dream to pursue acting, and always feeling the need to be the top in class so I could live up to my parents' standards.

After our afternoon together, Sam offered to walk me home.

As we walked down the road, still talking about anything and everything, I slowly reached over and brushed my hand against his. When he didn't pull away, I intertwined our fingers completely.

We looked at each other before both blushing and looking away.

We got to my gate and I went to walk inside, saying a quick goodbye. I stopped a few steps from my gate. He hadn't gotten far.

"Sam," I called, walking back over.

He looked back at me, meeting me at the gate.

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his gently. He slowly kissed me back, touching my waist gently. It was like he was scared I would break. Like he was scared he was going to break me.

I pulled away after a minute and basically whispered against his lips, "Break a leg at rehearsal tomorrow."

Sam chuckled, looking away and blushing, "You too."

I walked away again, turning back to wave at him before I went inside. I looked out my living room window, chuckling at the sight of Sam silently celebrating outside my gate.

--time skip--

"I don't think they're gonna come," Sam muttered.

Over the rest of rehearsals, Sam and I had a classic high school romance. Innocent and sweet and a dream come true. I tried to encourage him, slowly getting him to open up to me and tried to tell him that his dad and brother might come to the show.

I wanted to believe that they'd care about something Sam thought was important. Dean seemed to care so much for his brother, I was sure he'd care.

"It's okay," I wrapped my arms around him. "I'll treat you to dinner after the show, okay? Somewhere nice. My parents have a reservation and are already set on meeting you anyway."

"Okay," Sam nodded. He kissed my head. "We need to get ready."

I nodded, kissing his cheek, "Break a leg."

"Break a leg," he replied.

After the show, Sam was about to go get as cleaned up as possible. Stage make-up was impossible to get off on the first night but he was gonna try.

"(Y/n)," he said, causing me to stop before I went to change. He pointed at the bouquet sitting on his table. "You didn't have to do that."

I looked at them. It wasn't a super small bouquet but they didn't look store-bought. They looked like the flowers were from someone's garden and then tied together with string. I smiled.

"Sam, those aren't the ones I bought," I said. "I bought some. My parents were gonna give them to you. Those aren't them."

"What," he asked.

I walked over, there was a slip of paper in the string, "Sam."

He grabbed the note, "Good job tonight, Sammy. Probably will get you an Oscar. - Dean."

I wrapped my arms around him. He looked so happy knowing that his brother had been there for him.

"I told you he'd show," I mumbled. He chuckled. I looked up, seeing tears in his eyes. "Sam?"

"I... I didn't think he cared," he said. "It's just... It's nice to know that there are other things on his mind than the family business."

I leaned up, kissing his cheek, "Maybe if you can find him, we can drag him to dinner with my parents."

"I'll... I'll try."

"Okay."

I finished getting changed and cleaned up. I walked out to see my parents waiting for me. I saw Sam in the corner, holding the flowers his brother had gotten. His brother was standing in front of him.

Finally, I saw both of them start walking back. I happily waved at Sam.

"So, is your brother joining us," my mom asked Sam.

"If you'll let me," Dean replied. My parents nodded.

"Thank you," Sam said to his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dean tried to shrug off the whole event, but you could the genuine smile on his face.

He was happy that Sam was happy... even if their dad didn't have the nerve to be there.

In a matter of minutes, I grew to admire Dean's protectiveness over his brother... and he seemed to admire my commitment to his brother.

---------------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

42 notes · View notes

irondadfics · 4 years

Note

I’m looking for fanfics where Peter is Tony’s biological child and he goes missing/gets kidnapped as a young child. He is raised by someone else and doesn’t know he’s Tony’s son. I’ve already read Lost Boy and Things I Almost Remember on archive of our own and I wanted to find stories with a similar plot.

WHEW! It’s kind of a long list, but we did our best finding several fics that feature both BioDad!Tony and Peter being kidnapped at a very young age. ENJOY!!

PETER IS TONY’S SON BUT THEY WERE SEPARATED WHEN PETER WAS A CHILD REC LIST

Lost Boy by winterda

Isaac Stark disappeared from a crowded park a few months shy of his third birthday. There were never any signs of him, and no arrest were ever made in connection to the case. It was as if the toddler had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Twelve years later, Peter Parker has a really bad day, which only get worse when his prints are put through the system.

Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius @icedaquarius31

Peter's past is not as it appears. It all starts one day with a genetics project and slowly spirals into something Peter never could have imagined.

hydra's not a home by tempestaurora @tempestaurora

At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.

If They Knew All About You by MsHermia

Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.

Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.

------

This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I'm starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I'm not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.

Finding Their Way Home by ElliahRose

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing on a Tuesday. For months the entirety of the New York police department, as well as anyone else the Starks could convince to join, searched for the tot. He was only three when he was taken and for four months, two weeks, and four days, Tony Stark and Pepper Stark (nee Potts) worried and fretted over their beloved child.

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark was murdered on a Friday. A ransom call gone wrong spelt the end of the child’s life. The world grieved as the kidnappers gleefully told the devastated parents they’d find his body in the morning.

They never did.

Twelve years passed and the family was still grieving, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly to find his only child’s killer and gain justice for his son.

Meanwhile Peter Parker was having literally the worst day ever. He just wanted to help make the world a better place, but instead he got stabbed. That's just his luck, isn't it?

missing, presumed dead by hailingstars @hailing-stars

They hadn’t had a funeral for Peter.

There hadn’t been a casket or a service inside a church.

There had been, before Tony decided in his heart that Peter was gone, candlelight vigils and pleas on the media for whoever had taken him to bring him home. Neither of those did any good. Neither of those brought Peter home.

Tony Stark's son gets kidnapped when he's two. Twelve years later he comes back.

I told you to be better (and you became the best) by HaruK

Tony was blessed with a healthy baby boy, and for once in his life, was actually happy. Until everything derailed and he had to send his son away to keep him safe, because those related to the Stark family, one of the worlds biggest and most targeted families in the black market, always end up hurt. With a new name and identity that Tony himself doesn't know, the young baby was wiped off the map, his existence erased, never to be heard of again. . Years later, Anti-hero Iron Man meets a local superhero vigilante and Tony becomes surprisingly close with young Peter Parker.

The Curly-Haired Boy In The Paper by Svn_f1ower @svn-f1ower

When Tony sees the blurry, grey scale photograph of someone he thought he had lost years ago, he follows the trail to a newspaper company, to a hospital, to an adoption agency, to the police station and finally to May Parker's house.

hold him tight & don’t let go by jessicagoddamnjones @farremoved

Peter Stark went missing when he was four years old.

Eleven years later, he’s found.

Only now he’s Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night, and he doesn’t like the idea that his entire life is a lie.

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Mintstream @iwritedumbshit

Tony Stark didn't expect Mary Fitzpatrick, or the news she delivered. He didn't expect that he would become a father, or that he would actually enjoy it. He didn't expect Penny to love him just as fiercely as he did her.

He didn't expect to lose her so soon.

In the wake of the loss of his daughter he tried--tried to do right by her. He became Iron Man, he was an Avenger, he protected his world because he couldn't protect his daughter, but through it all, he hoped to be reunited with his daughter.

He didn't expect to be alive when he was.

AKA the biological daughter kidnapping AU no one asked for. Hope you read, and hope you enjoy.

Updates on Saturdays.

Coming Home by inkinmyheartandonthepage

AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.

A Change In What We Knew by Imissyoutoo @imissyoutoo

Tony scoured the floor behind Steve as though his one-year-old son had somehow crawled to him, before finally, he looked up. The realisation dawned on him like an eclipse; the decaying darkness hiding the sun. Hiding his son. Because his boy wasn't there.

”Where is he? Steve? Where's my son Rogers?!” At only a year old, Tony Stark’s son is taken, leaving him shattered. Little does he know, his journey to find what is lost only begins twelve years later. In the most unlikely of places, and all because of two words.

”Hey kid.”

I Found You by honestchick

Tony had a son; he raised him for two years until someone kidnapped him. Tony was devastated and heartbroken. And who would have thought in Starks Expo, he’d be able to see his son once again?

move back home forever by chasingflower @evahmohns

The results say he’s not actually Peter Parker.

They say he’s Peter Stark. You know, the one who’s been missing for 10 years.

Yeah. He knows.

Soon You'll Get Better by lostinmorewaysthan1

Peter Stark was kidnapped. That was all anyone knew. He vanished into thin air, no traces left behind, when he was eight years old.

Six years later, on one of the final raids on the HYDRA bases, they find an enhanced assassin, with super strength and the ability to climb walls. No one imagined that it would be Peter. Least of all Tony.

With no memory and brainwashed by HYDRA, Peter Stark goes home and tries to recover.

Let This Road Be Mine by CommunicationFlail

Ten years ago, five year old Peter Stark disappeared. When the trail went cold, the case was closed. Now new evidence has been brought to light and Tony will stop at nothing to get his son back. No matter how many fakes he has to meet. His son is out there, and he will find him.

Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger @superherotiger

James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.

All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.

On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.

‘…My love for you is endless…’

Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.

Once Lost Now Found by FreckledAvenger11

Peter Parker was just trying to get used to life without his uncle. He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face in an article about Tony Stark's missing son. Follow Peter on his journey to discover just who he is. Is he Peter Parker? Is he Spider-Man? Or is he someone else entirely? Just who is he and what secrets died along with his parents in that plane crash?

So He Walks The World Alone by Miola014

This is a story 'bout a broken boy With his headphones in just to block out the noise Of everyone around him telling him the way to go So he walks the world alone Wondering if it gets better Or if he's always gonna feel empty forever So he gets lost tryna find another way back home As he walks the world alone

The Kidnapped Peter Stark AU that I promised y'all!

#fic rec list #tony is peter's biological dad #kidnapping

417 notes · View notes

madam-miss-fortune · 3 years

Text

Reasons Why Harry Potter was Abused:

Alright, so, back then, orphanages were already gone. The foster system would have been the alternative to Harry being raised by the Dursleys, and...well.... That's no good. And the Dursleys most certainly did horribly abuse Harry. Especially with that threat.

Physical Abuse

It's canon that Dudley and his gang made a game called "Harry Hunting" where they chased Harry around and beat him if they caught him. It was bad enough that Harry apparated himself onto the school roof just to escape. Apparition is supposed to be difficult and there's a high risk of splinching. And considering Harry didn't know magic was real and shouldn't have known about apparition, it says a lot about how desperate he was. Imagine an elementary school kid suddenly getting into a car and driving without crashing. That's how rare and amazing it was. So it must have been pretty bad. Also, it was made fairly clear that Vernon and Petunia ignored this behaviour, if not outright encouraged it. And Vernon did wack Harry around a few times.

Also, Petunia smacked him with a frying pan at least once on the head. It could very well have been burning hot, but I'd need to consult the book for that. And you know that being hit with metal is ridiculously painful. There was also that time she cut all of his hair off except for the fringe without his permission, which would be considered a form of abuse, clearly.

And Marge canonically let Ripper chase Harry up a tree and poor Harry couldn't get down until midnight.

Emotional Abuse

They called him "boy" and "freak" all the time. For all we know, the fanfic trope of Harry not even knowing his name until he was school age was completely correct.

They told him that his parents were jobless drunks that died in a car crash and his mum was a prostitute. How was that not emotionally damaging?

They didn't care one bit about him and made that obvious by always leaving him out, screaming at him, and treating him like he was dirt under their shoes. And they taught Dudley this behaviour as well.

Physical Neglect

His bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs until he was 11. They only moved him when they thought they were being spied on. And they had two functioning bedrooms! A guest room and Dudley's second bedroom. Bloody hell....

He was thrown into the cupboard and kept there for days to weeks on end as punishment. He very likely didn't receive much food, or light either. The latter likely would have contributed to his poor eyesight. And he probably looked sickly pale, too.

I highly doubt he went to an eye doctor to get glasses, either. Petunia probably got them from the charity bin or something. And even if she didn't, they're years out of date. I have glasses myself, had them since I was 8 (but not the same pair, duh), and I need to get a new prescription every year. I'm getting a new one soon. Eyesight doesn't normally stop getting worse for people with bad eyesight until we're about 20-something. And Harry has always had the same iconic pair, which, by the way, kept getting broken and the Dursleys didn't care. That probably made his eyesight worse, too. Wearing the wrong prescription damages eyes.

He was fed very little. We know from COS and OOTP that Harry was fed only a little of stale soup and tea or whatever. I forgot. But I know that he gave most of it to Hedwig—the kind boy that he is. So he was very malnourished. And he wouldn't have been very tall either. He would have been short and skinny. He was probably as small as a first year for the longest time. And six school years of being fed well doesn't do much to combat 10 years of malnutrition, especially when Harry probably still ate only a little bit at a time to combat refeeding syndrome. And all that progress was destroyed every summer.

His clothing was only ever Dudley's cast-offs, and it was far too large for him. And considering how many presents they buy for Dudley every year, they have more than enough to support Harry, too.

They made him do chores, too. They forced him to make breakfast for them all when he was 11. Sure, yeah, at 11 I made breakfast for my siblings and I when my mom was still sleeping. But more often than not, she wanted to be there to supervise, even though she knows that I've always been perfectly fine cooking. Also, I wouldn't trust an 11-year-old to handle making bacon. Just saying. I'd watch that kid like a hawk. I only learned to make stuff like hamburgers when I was 13, though that was mostly because I wanted to learn and because my family is sexist, but I'm not getting into that.

Emotional Neglect

They hated him. Plain and simple. They ignored him on good days and screeched at him on particularly bad ones. There is one line in the book I distinctly remember. It's the one where Petunia woke Harry up on Dudley's birthday.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Does that sound kind to you? No. She had rapped on the cupboard door, and I distinctly remember that Harry had to flick a spider off of a sock. What the fuck? And he was used to it!

Conclusion

I won't get into any more of this. I just can't. I've made my point clear. The Dursleys horrifically abused Harry and I'm fully of the belief that he would have been better off at an orphanage. And it's not like they wanted to take him in, either! Dumbledore left him on a doorstep in November with nothing more than a note. But that's another problem. And plenty of people are forced to take in kids they didn't ask for, but do they treat those children like shit? No! At least not all of them.

So, yes, the Dursleys did abuse Harry. His childhood was the stuff of nightmares. And I won't tolerate anyone saying that it "wasn't that bad" or "the Dursleys didn't want him in the first place". Because it was, and even though they didn't want him, that gave them no right to treat him as they did.

I know fanfiction loves to make the abuse worse, but they don't really need to. It's already extremely bad as it is. And I didn't even get into all the effects that this treatment had on Harry's mental state—or should have, at least. Rowling wanted an abused underdog that didn't have any symptoms of one. Damn her.

And I didn't even want to mention how Dudley was abused as well, just on a completely different spectrum than Harry. Any objective person that saw this treatment of both boys would have been extremely horrified and disgusted.

Alright, so, this is it. That's all I have to say.

#harry potter #abuse #childhood #child abuse #emotional abuse #physical abuse #neglect #emotional neglect #physical neglect #malnutrition #privet drive #dursleys #petunia dursley #vernon dursley #dudley dursley

84 notes · View notes

se0kie · 4 years

Text

call it what you want— jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader, [jin x reader for like two seconds]

genre: fluff, angst

high school au, f2l, bestfriends au, unrequited love

tags/warnings: mild pining, mild swearing (y/n says the f word like twice), i love y/n she’s adorable, some jealousy, jungkook is immature and/or clueless, vmin make an appearance, jk’s a killjoy squeeeeeeee!! seokjin being the handsome older man every teenage girl crushes on hehe

summary: you have been best friends with Jungkook since before you can remember. but it’s difficult being a supportive friend he can fall back on when you’re hopelessly in love with him.

word count: 3.5k

this was commissioned for the lovely @dee-ehn through the changeswithluv project by @ficswithluv! i hope you like it <3

a/n: high school au but all characters are of or above age. also this is super unedited yolo lemme know how yall like it thooooo

You’re standing outside the gate to your house, tapping your foot incessantly against the curb as irritation runs through you like a tiny insect. He’s late. Again.

You had somehow gotten yourself out of bed, rushed through your shower and made yourself presentable for school. Your knee high socks only doing so much to keep you shivering from the cold. It was brisk in the mornings, which is exactly why you needed Jungkook to be on time at least for once.

You sighed yet again, your hair flying due to the breeze. You looked down the street, hoping for the familiar toothy grin and curly hair to make an appearance. Jungkook’s whoop of greeting announced his arrival as you finally calmed down enough to stop your tapping. You scowled as he neared you, letting him see the displeasure on your face.

“I’m sorreee, Y/N!” he whined, usually it was all it took for you to stop being mad at him. And today was no different.

You smiled at him, letting him know you weren’t upset as he thrust a notebook into your hands. “Thank you for letting me borrow your notes, I love you,” you blushed at his usual words of gratitude. Although you remind yourself this is how the two of you had been for ever, don’t go looking for meaning in something mundane.

Jungkook intertwines his arm with yours as you start walking towards school. The two of you have been going to school together since you learned to walk.

You’re walking hand in hand when Jungkook looks at you sideways, you raise your eyebrows at him, questioning.

“What?” you say with a half laugh.

“Nothiiiing, how’s my favourite girl this morning?” Jungkook says with a smile.

You look straight ahead as you answer, “I’d be better if you actually ever showed up on time. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I heard from a certain someone...” he begins when you cut him off.

“From a certain Jimin.”

He looks at you with exasperation as you keep walking, “Would you let me finish?!”

“Oh I’m sorry, do continue,” you reply with a small smile. “You were saying?”

“Yeah so a certain someone told me that Kim Seokjin has a crush on you.”

“WHAT?” You sputter and gasp at the unexpected revelation. Never would you have thought you’d get to hear such a sentence.

“Jungkook is this another one of your bad attempts at being funny? Cause it’s really not working and I’m gonna have to ask you to cut it out,” you say as you purse your lips.

“No no! I’m serious, Taehyung heard his older brother talking to some guy on the phone and he was distinctly talking about ‘Y/N that cute senior in Tae’s class’!” Jungkook says it so earnestly with those doe eyes that you can’t help but believe him. Although it does put you in quite a bit of a pickle seeming how your current crush is telling you about boys who in turn are crushing on you.

“I mean, Seokjin is kinda cute—”

“Kinda?? Y/N, honey, that guy has the most perfect face in the whole world. Literally!” You can’t help but doubt if Jungkook himself is in love with the older man, the way he talks about his friend’s hyung is rather suspicious.

“I just don’t know him well enough, y’know?”

“Nobody’s telling you to marry him, just talk to the guy. I saw him shirtless once at Tae’s house and all I’m gonna say is whoo boy, I could grate cheese on his abs!”

You snort at his antics, Jungkook dramatically enacting another one of his encounters with the cheerleader in love with him as you try not to let jealousy tint you green. The familiar grey building appearing in your sight as you advance closer towards it.

The shrill of the school bell rings out through the class. There is a flurry of movement as students scramble to leave the stuffy room, you sit back waiting for the commotion to die down as you gather your notes and stationary to put back in your canvas bag.

You catch a glimpse of Jungkook rushing towards the door when you yell out for him. “Hey, JK! Where do you think you’re going?”

Jungkook stutters while looking back at you, hesitantly making his way towards you with an expression you know far too well.

“Jungkook... Why are you making that face?” you say as you squint your eyes at him. He twiddles his thumbs as his gaze flitters nervously about the room, taking in everything but your face.

“Jungkook.”

“Well... You see I have this little thing to do uh,,, it’s kinda, a little bit important...” he says.

“Oh spit it out, you monkey!” You say, your patience running thin.

“I have a date!” Jungkook says with eyes widened. Your carefully maintained expression slips for just a second and then it’s back on. You look around the room to catch the pretty cheerleader waiting outside the door. She’s standing with her other cheerleader friends and you can tell she’s jittery from the nerves.

Oh, damn it.

You sigh as you decide to let your unnerved friend off the hook, once again. “Fine, just go on your stupid date. But this project is the last one I’ll be covering for you, after this you’re on your own, bud.”

“Oh Y/N, thank you!” Jungkook exclaims as he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thankyouthankyou!!” He repeats as he hugs you clumsily, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you hold your breath, trying to act nonchalant.

The joy of being around your best friend drains from your entire being as your heart weighs heavy again in his absence.

You’re the only one left in the quiet classroom.

You’re still in your uniform sitting on the plush carpet of the Kims’ living room, your notes and study material sprawled in front of you as you take in the bickering pair, Jimin and Tae are smushed together in the bright floral armchair.

You cough once to try and get their attention when Jimin glances at you, looking as if he’s just noticed you. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry were you saying something?”

“Yeah just for the last fucking hour but it’s okay, please continue,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jimin narrows his eyes at you, making it known that he doesn’t appreciate the sass.

“Remind me again why that beefed up rabbit isn’t here to help with the project?” Taehyung quips as he gets up to get a bottle of strawberry milk from the refrigerator. It’s always a delight to be at his house, his parents are always away for some obscure book meeting leaving their gorgeous home and kitchen free for their kids and their countless friends. You send a silent prayer of gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Kim for the years you’ve spent at their home to keep from strangling their younger son.

“He’s on a date,” you say lowly.

“A what now?” Jimin asks, eyebrows raised.

“A date,” you mumble.

“A great what, Y/N will you speak up?!”

“JUNGKOOK IS ON A DATE!” you scream, surprising Tae in the kitchen as he yelps with a small crash following.

Jimin’s mouth hangs open, worry written in the droop scrunch of brows. He strides towards you and wraps his arms around your figure, the scent of his classic Chanel perfume wafting up to your nose.

“Oh you poor thing, it’s gonna be okay. Koo’s an idiot, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Jimin coos into your hair as you melt in his embrace, finally letting the heaviness weigh you down as you slag against his frame. He pulls away and holds you back to properly examine your face.

“Are you sad?”

“Just a little, although I know I have no right to be,” you say with an unintentional pout. “Jungkook only sees me as his friend, and he has no reason to put me above potential relationships.”

“Shut up for a minute and give yourself a break, honey,” Tae voices out as he comes back into the living room. He stands behind you and pulls you back into his lap as he lets you sit on him like a child complaining to their mum. Jimin takes his place beside him and faces you head on.

“Next time I see him I’m gonna flick him on the forehead,” you say with mild conviction, knowing you’re making empty promises.

“You do that,” Jimin says.

Taehyung rubs your back as you slouch against him, gathering your thoughts and energy to go through the day without crying. You can’t say this is a new occurrence, Taehyung and Jimin have been your closest friends after Jungkook. You’ve spent a gross amount of time with them, and the coddling and comforting has been something unique to your trio. Every time one of you was upset or sad or frustrated, the other two have comforted and joked and babied them, whatever they needed at that point of time.

You take a deep breath and get up out of Tae’s reassuring hold, you sit back down on the carpet. Silently letting them know that you’ll be fine, for now. “Jimin can you handle the titles and diagrams? I’m gonna get started on the typing, and Tae you gotta start preparing for the presentation,” you get back into work mode, rambling out the designated areas for each of you to overlook.

You’re looking through your notes when the tall, striking Kim Seokjin walks out of his room, he goes straight into the kitchen but you can’t help but follow his movements. Or rather his rear end’s movements.

As he’s walking out, he looks at you from his freakishly tall height and winks at you. You feel your heart do a weird little ballet flip, something you’ve reserved for Jungkook for the longest time. You fluster at the gesture and tuck your hair behind your ear, a shy smile painting your face. You look back up and Seokjin is gone, Taehyung looking at you as if he’s in on your little secret moment.

Jimin groans as he looks up from his work, pouting slightly with his plump lips as he complains about the absentee.

“Jimin, it’s okay! Calm down, he’s saved our asses multiple times. We can do this one thing for him, can’t we?” You try to reason.

“Yeah whatever, of course you’ll say that. You’re the one who’s in loooove with him,” Jimin mumbles to himself.

“I am not in love with Jungkook! It is outrageous of you to suggest that,” you say with a squeal of mild anger.

“Oh admit it Y/N, it’s not just a safe little crush on your best friend anymore, you totally want to snog his face off!” Taehyung accuses you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. You whine in embarrassment as your press your palms to your face, hoping to cool your heated cheeks.

Taehyung comes up behind you as he hugs you from the back, his head resting your shoulder as he teases you. “Y/N and Kook! Sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!!” You squeal in humiliation as Jimin scuffles over to you as he captures you between him and Taehyung.

He joins in on the embarrassing poem, “First comes looooove! Then comes marriage! Then comes a Taehyung in a baby carriage!!” Tae looks up at the blonde haired boy across from him and yells, “Yah! Park Jimin, I’m not gonna be Jungkook’s baby, how dare you?!”

Jimin is too busy laughing like the gremlin he is to answer Tae’s question, his eyes scrunched up as he releases peals of happy laughter. You’re laughing just as hard, if not harder, alongside him. Your sides are in stitches yet you’re so bubbling with pure joy that you don’t bother with the pain in your stomach.

As the laughter dies down, Tae has a solemn look on his face. One that you don’t particularly like seeing because you know he’s gonna coax you into having the uncomfortable conversations you’re too scared to have yourself.

“Seriously, Y/N. Do you... love Jungkook? You know, like that?”

You sigh, “Yeah, I mean, isn’t it obvious? I really, really love him and it just physically hurts me to know that he may never return the sentiment.”

“Then sweetheart you’re gonna have to talk to him! He might actually even return your feelings but be too scared to tell you himself, and even if he does not you can’t keep hurting like this every time he goes on a date,” Jimin says softly, a gentle hand laying your arm.

“Because right now, Y/N, Jungkook is hurting you. And he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, it’s not fair to you nor is it fair to him.”

You know it makes sense, but you just feel so anxious and confused about how things will go if you actually tell Jungkook about your feelings for him. You take a deep breath as you try hard to let your friends in, “I just— I’m scared of how things will be once I tell him, you know? I don’t want to lose my best friend. If loving him from the sidelines is the only kind of relationship we can have I’m absolutely okay with that. I would never ever want to do something that will chase him out of my life.” You don’t realise the tears running down your cheeks until Jimin is brushing them away.

“If the only dates we can have are ramen and banana milk? Then damn it I will drink that banana milk!” you say with a sniffle. “Loving Koo from the outside is better than not loving him at all,” you manage to say before you choke on a sob. Dropping your head into the crook of Jimin’s neck, Tae rubbing your back from behind you.

And you cry in your friends’ embrace. You cry harder than you ever have before.

It’s the week before the end of the school year, you’re walking across the quad to meet with Jungkook under your favourite tree. It’s a light, breezy afternoon, there’s a bounce in your step as your short school skirt swings on your hips. You feel good and you can tell you look good, the sudden air of confidence is a welcome change from your usual skittish demeanour.

You can make out Jungkook’s big form laying on the grass under the apple tree, his bag under his head and earbuds popped in, you’re sure he’s listening to some My Chemical Romance song once again. You’re about to shout his name when a tall someone blocks your path.

You look up at them to find the startlingly handsome face of Kim Seokjin looking down at you. His hair is slicked back to reveal his forehead and the immaculate eyebrows, his hands are shoved into his bomber jacket as he looks at you intensely.

“Uh,,, h-hi Jin,” you squeak under his gaze.

“Hey Y/N,” he says.

“Um, w-what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something kind of important,” he says nonchalantly.

“Really? Okay, go ahead,” you attempt to act indifferent to his attention but the butterflies thrumming in your stomach told you otherwise. Seokjin’s hand flits out of his pocket to run through the hair at the back of his neck, his eyes flicker around nervously, “Would you uhm... would you be interested in like, going to the end of year um... dance? W-with me?”

The sudden change in demeanour from cool to nervous is endearing to you, a light giggle spills out of you as you answer with blood red cheeks, “O-of course, I would love to.” You smile up at him shyly. The thought of Jungkook flickering across your mind for a second before you push it away.

You know you can’t be hung up on him for ever, and he’s sure as hell not gonna take you as his date to the dance. And Seokjin is a good person, you like to think you know him pretty well after the years you’ve spent with him and his brother, it also doesn’t hurt his chances that he’s actually the most perfect looking human in the entire world.

“Oh wow, I didn’t think you’d say yes,” he admits, honestly. “Well, great then! I’ll pick you up at your place on the day of?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum as you try to suppress a smile.

“Cool,” he says with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him, “I gotta go, I’ll see you soon okay?”

You nod at him as he walks away, taking the opportunity to gaze at his broad shoulders. A blissful sigh leaving your lips as you finally let the suppressed smile break across your face.

Shaking your head you continue on your path towards your best friend, who has by now sat up straight and is staring at you with narrowed eyes, a bitter scowl forming on his charming face by the second. You reach his spot and chirp out a greeting, “Hello, what’s up with you face?”

“What did Jin want?”

“Um, I’m good, thanks for asking, how are you?”

He narrowed his eyes even more to the point where he looked like he had slits for eyes, “Answer the question, smart ass.”

“He asked me if I wanted to go to the dance with him? Why?”

“Oh. I didn’t you were taking a date with you to the dance?” He said as he turned his face away from you.

You plopped down beside him, uncaring. “Yeah well it’s really not the coolest to go to a formal school ball all alone. I’m saving for future formal balls where I can embarrass myself to the fullest.” You chuckle at your poor humour.

“Oh you think you’re sooo funny, don’t you? Hilarious Y/N. Well cut it out cause you’re not, and your hair’s dry and you need a new backpack.” Jungkook quite literally huffs as he crosses his arms in a defensive position and leans his back on the apple tree.

You gasp at the sudden jabs, “What is the matter with you?! That’s just mean and my hair is not dry, it is moisturised to it’s best thank you very much!”

“You’re so obtuse,” Jungkook says with a glare.

“What? What did I do?” you ask, only slightly taking offense.

Jungkook moves his body abruptly towards you so that he is facing you head on, you wither under his strong gaze as he huffs again, “You really don’t know?”

“Um if I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” you retort, equally annoyed by now.

He continues to stare at you as if you’ve stolen his lunch money, slowly starting to feel uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny when he breathes out loud, “If you don’t get it then you don’t get it, I can’t do anything about it,” and he gets up from his spot.

Gathering his bag he starts walking away from you without a word, although you do hear the words ‘stupid’ and ‘oblivious’ under his breath as he moves farther away from your stumped figure.

It had been four solid days that Jungkook ignored you, he avoided you at every meeting and stopped sitting beside you in all the classes you shared. Although four days doesn’t seem like much it was just grossly too long for the amount of time the two of you spent together otherwise, you were annoyed and frustrated but more than anything you felt shunned. Jungkook had never once behaved like this with you and this was an entirely new side of him you were being exposed to.

Two days before the end of school, Jungkook had once again avoided you and sat way over at the other end of the room with his cheerleader groupies. You were dangerously close to tears as he was your only friend in the majority of your classes, you only shared History and Literature with Tae and Jimin and without your best friend you were left completely alone.

The bell rang announcing the end of the period and the school day, you were fed up of this treatment and decided to make things right no matter what. You got up from your desk and walked over to Jungkook’s with what little courage you could gather. You waved timidly at him, he was speaking to the pretty girls who were twirling their curls around their fingers and making eyes at the handsome boy.

“Hey, Kook we should talk,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t want to speak with you.” You felt like he’d just slapped you with the formal smile he was giving you. Anger like fire rushed through your veins as you grabbed his arm and dragged him behind you and out of the classroom, the girls looking on with wide eyes as the centre of their attention was whisked away by the shy girl they never paid attention to.

You storm into the boy’s bathroom at the corner next to your class, swinging around to face your friend as you cross your arms and raise and eyebrow, “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N.”

“What the fuck do you mean there’s nothing to talk about?” you say sharply.

He winces at your usage of the cuss word, “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to fight, please just let it go and let’s move on with our lives.”

“Jungkook?! You won’t even tell me what I did wrong? How do you expect me to move on from something I don’t even know? Please, just tell me why you’re upset and I promise I’ll make it right,” you say pleadingly.

Jungkook chuckles softly, “If only you could.”

You reach forward and place your arms on his thick biceps, you look at him earnestly, “Please Kook, don’t do this to us. Tell me what happened? Please?”

He takes a shaky breath as you notice the tension on his brows, “I just— I thought if you’d ever go to a school dance,”

“What about the school dance?” you whisper.

“I thought if you’d ever go to a school dance... it would be with me...” he says softly.

You feel like your breath has been knocked out of you. Your arms feel suddenly too light, panic wraps its hands around your belly and squeezes.

Somehow you find it in yourself to push through the nerves and ask, “Jungkook... D-do you mean to say what I think you do?”

“If you think I mean to say that I like you then yeah, it’s exactly what you think,” he replies with a slight pout.

You laugh out of relief and realisation, all this while the boy you were in love with had liked you back and you had been to stupid to see it. Everything clicks into place and you piece together all the weird reactions over the years, the sudden bursts of jealousy and possessiveness all make sense now that you know he likes you. He really likes you too.

“Jungkook, you idiot! I like you too, I’ve liked you since fucking forever, oh my god.”

His eyes shine brighter at your words, “Really? Then what was that whole thing with Seokjin and going to the dance as his date?”

“That was just because I was too tired of watching you date girl after girl, I thought I should finally try to move on from you,” you say, “It was tiring to see the boy I love hook up with all these gorgeous girls and know that I’ll never be able to tell him how much I like him.”

Jungkook has the manners to look sheepish as his cheeks grow red, “You love me?”

“I— No of course not I just said it—”

“You love me! Y/N is in love with me!!” He all but whoops. You hide your face in your hands as he announces smugly that you, are in fact in love with him.

“Hey Y/N,” he says suddenly, voice dropping several octaves to send a shiver down your entire body.

You peek out from behind your fingers to sneak a look at him, only to find his face right in front of yours and dangerously close. His big brown eyes are staring into yours as you take in the gorgeous, long lashes; his lips are pink and a cheeky bunny smile shows of his teeth. He whispers and you feel his minty breath on your face, “I love you, too.”

#changeswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeongguk #high school au #se0kie #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut

553 notes · View notes

myhauntedsalem · 3 years

Text

CAN CHILDREN SEE GHOSTS? 17 SPINE-CHILLING TRUE STORIES THAT PROVE THEY DO

Have you ever found your child talking to “someone” when they were alone in their room? Is it simply an active imagination or could it be a visitor from beyond the grave?

For most parents, when their child tells them about their new imaginary friend, they simply put it down to their child’s active imagination. Completely normal… right? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s a widely held belief that some children can see and connect with those who have passed on. A popular theory is that we’re all born with the ability to connect to the other side but, as we grow up and become more cynical and disbelieving of all things unknown, that ability disappears. The following chilling true tales of imaginary friends and unseen visitors in the dead of night might go some way in proving that our children can and do communicate with the dead.

Parents beware, you’ll be checking under the bed and in your closets after reading these horrifying supernatural encounters.

1. THE BELIEVER

I believe that there are happenings on this earth that cannot be logically explained. I’ve always been a little skeptical, but I didn’t completely denounce that ghosts exists.

However, I’m starting to think they are definitely real, and that little kids can see them.

Yesterday, Sunday, I volunteered to watch the little kids of my church while their parents were out volunteering. Our church meets in the community center, so that’s where I was watching the kids — one baby, and two 2-year-olds – a boy and a girl. And you are right, our church is not very big.

After the center cleared out, it was just me and one other volunteer. She had the baby in a side room, trying to put him down for a nap. I had the two-year-olds in the main room.

I had a “weird feeling” all day, and kept feeling like there was someone standing behind me, but chalked it up to being alone in the building. The kids and I were sitting on the floor and rolling a ball back and forth to one another when the boy asked if we could throw it instead. I said yes and we stood up. He ran towards me and threw the ball just out of my reach. It went behind me. I did not hear it bounce.

The kids looked at each other and started giggling. I whirled around and saw the ball suspended in midair for a split second before falling to the ground. The kids just kept laughing. They started pointing and saying what sounded like “the man! the man!”

That was all the “paranormal” that occurred yesterday. The kids didn’t say anything about “the man” for the rest of the day. It freaked me out, but I wasn’t scared. I just wanted to share.

2. IT WAS JUST A DREAM

My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.

3. DADDY, WHO’S THAT MAN?

When my daughter was younger (maybe 2 1/2 years old) she slept in her crib in the room next to me and my wife. One night she was stirring and maybe a little frightened, so I went in to get her and brought her to our room. She was wide awake now in our bed and not scared at all now. She was looking wondrously at the foot of our bed saying “look at the lights, the sparkles….” Kind of playfully she kept mentioning “the lights”. Then she said “Daddy, who’s that man?” Pointing directly at the foot of our bed.

It was definitely unsettling.

We had bought the apartment from a very elderly couple who passed in the apartment a few months earlier. Probably never forget that.

4. THE CAPTAIN

A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.

I was always creeped out working with that student after that.

5. MY COUSIN TRACY

When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, why don’t I find out more about this friend. So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, “She’s a she and she’s dead.” And I said okay, “Does she have a job?” and she said, “She does what my Daddy does!” Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. Okay. So then I said, “Where is your imaginary friend a policewoman at?” and she said, “Right next to where my daddy is a policeman.” And I said okay. But then she said, “I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched me when I was inside.”

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my nieces “Daddy.” My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.

6. EMILY

when my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and i could hear my sister just screaming and screaming as loud as she “Get out”.

I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently, Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

7. JESSICA

A little after I was born, my sister Julia had an imaginary friend named Jessica. She was Julia’s friend for a long time, when things started to get a little weird. At first my parents shrugged it off as a normal occurrence, but after a while they began to believe that our house was haunted .One night as my parents put me (about one years old) to sleep, I begin to cry and point at the corner, my mom was still in there and began to try to comfort me, but I continued to cry and point at the same corner. All of the sudden, my sister walks into my room and points at the corner and yells “Jessica stop it!”

Immediately I stop crying and Julia says like it is completely normal that “Sometimes Jessica likes to put on scary masks and scare people”. My mom who was understandably freaked out stammers to my sister “Tell Jessica that if she can’t play nice, she can’t play here at all”.

A couple weeks go by and Julia tells my Mom that “Her eyes turn green when she is mad and her voice gets deeper”. My Mom didn’t know how to respond to this and just said “ok….”

Eventually Julia outgrows her “imaginary” friend and stops playing with her.

A year and a half later my little sister Abbey begins to talk, she then goes on to tell us about her friend that no one else can see. She then tells my mom about how her eyes turn green when she is upset. I remember this distinctly because she dropped a pan and it scared me. She asked Abbey what her name was and she said…

“Jessica.”

8. THE BOY IN THE TREE

My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says “What’s that boy doing up in that tree?” There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.

9. YOU’RE DOING A GOOD JOB

My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say “what? OK, I’ll tell her” then get up and come into our bedroom and told my wife “Mary says you’re doing a good job.”

Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close too that passed away.

10. THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY

When my nephew was born, ten years ago now. Around age 2/3 He’d wake up in the middle of the night and when my sister and her fiance went to settle him down he’d be staring at the corner of the room, or at the open doorway saying there was a man standing there, that he came and talked to him at night. Sometimes he was scared, sometimes he was calm, but my sister was terrified!

11. MY FRIEND JOE

Not my kid, but something my mum said I did when I was little.

I had this imaginary friend named “Joe” – was pretty normal imaginary friend stuff to begin with, my parents would ask about him and I’d respond with something like “I like Joe” “He has curly black hair” “He likes to play outside” nothing interesting.

Until one day I come out with “Joe has to work a lot, but Joe’s boss doesn’t like him.” when asked why, I responded with “Oh, it’s because Joe’s black.” As if it was obvious. Now this wouldn’t have been weird at all if I hadn’t grown up in a very small all-white town. And I was about 3 years old, I didn’t know (or rather, hadn’t been taught) that racism was even a thing.

This continued on for a while, I’d mention Joe now and then, sometimes talking about what he did for fun, or his favorite things, other times mentioning that his boss hits him and shouts all the time.

After a few months, I go up to my mum one day and have a conversation that went something like this: “Joe’s really happy today. His boss isn’t coming back” ‘Why?’ “He’s dead” ‘Oh yeah? How did he die?’ “He hung himself from up there” (as I point up towards the attic door).

I don’t remember much of this, I definitely remember having an imaginary friend named Joe.

12. THE LITTLE GIRL

My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in NH when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.

And, yes, I found out later that a little girl drowned in the lake near that same spot (of course).

13. THE IMAGINARY FRIEND

When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed, she said “That looks like Kelly.” “Kelly who?” we say “You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.”

14. HER EYES WOULD FOLLOW IT

I had tons of experiences like this when my little girl was born a few years ago. From being just a few months old we noticed she’d randomly start looking over at something and giggling, like something was making her laugh. Her eyes would follow it around the room. And sometimes we’d feel like it was stood right next to us or behind us and then we’d noticed she was looking at it, or smiling in that direction. It never caused any problems though, in fact, when she was upset she’d look over at it and start laughing or smiling. And if we couldn’t find something we really needed, suddenly it’d appear right in front of us, when we knew we’d checked there a hundred times.

Stopped around the time she turned two.

15. PUNISHMENT

I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old. he’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. he wasn’t in the bed and when i opened the door wider, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say “shhh”. I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, “leave us. It is the punishment.”

16. HE DOESN’T HAVE A FACE

My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dads bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”

17. I WAS THE SAME

I tend to be skeptical also, even when I love reading about paranormal stuff, the only thing that has kind of freaked me out has been my nephew a couple of years ago when he was about 2 1/2 years old would talk to a man only he could see at my house and an old lady at his grandparents house.

My mother tells me I was the same, talking and playing with my grandfather for a few months after he died, I would call to him and hold conversations with him and even wish him good night before going to bed.

#CAN CHILDREN SEE GHOSTS #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

17 notes · View notes

elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

June Contest Submission #4: Flash Point

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: yes CW: swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of hunting, weed, tobacco

Why was it so damn hot?

The Sun bore down with unusual cruelty, and the air was so heavy it felt damp against her skin, too thick to breathe, and if the dog at the other end of the leash she was holding’s panting was anything to go by, Anna was not alone in her feeling. They hadn’t even gone far, yet the Vizsla was pulling towards a shaded patch of grass and plopping down with a little whine.

“I’m not carrying you home, so you better hurry before it gets really hot,” she grumbled. On the other hand she couldn’t exactly blame him. She’d spent the last five years studying abroad, two years in Oslo and three at Uppsala University. The Scandinavian Summers were comparatively cool and mild when contrasted to the hot, humid Summers so typical of the Eastern part of the North American continent. Her dog was born in Europe, and at the ripe old age of 3, had quite literally never known such high temperatures.

“Tűz, fot!”

The dog lifted his head to look at her then let out a noise of complaint before he got up and very slowly made his way to a heel position, looking forlorn. She chuckled a little at how dramatic he was being and gave him a gentle pat.

“Duktig hund!“

A crown of dew formed around her temples and coated her shoulders and her neck. Given it was only 8:30 am, she dreaded to think what the rest of the day would be like. At least, she figured, her parents and the rest of her family likely wouldn’t want to leave the cool respite of the central AC.

She quickened her step at the prospect, hurrying back to the modest house her sister had began renting sometime after Anna had left for Europe. As much as she adored her parents, she’d been overjoyed when Elsa asked her to stay with her, and she’d been eager to make up for lost time. Of all the things she’d missed while studying, her older sister was what she’d missed most, leading her to question whether it was possible to be homesick for a person.

As she walked through the door, she found Elsa in the kitchen, frantically shoving a granola bar into her bag, along with a sandwich and some gatorade. Without looking up, she reached for her car keys and brushed passed Anna, only pausing briefly to kiss her forehead and mumble “good morning” which immediately drew a smile on Anna’s lips.

“Got everything?”

“Yeah I think I left most of Tűz’s stuff in the car.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

-x.x.x-

The drive to their parents place was a little over 20 minutes, but fortunately brought Elsa a little closer to the work errands she had ro run that day. Anna was a little bummed she wouldn’t be spending most of the day with her, but took comfort in the fact she’d come join them as soon as possible. Her eyes studied the edges of Elsa’s cheekbones, admiring her chiseled features, and the way the stray strands of blond escaping from her messy braid framed her face. Anna hoped that she had thought of applying sunscreen before leaving, though she somehow doubted it, given how hectic she’d been just before they’d left.

“Is it okay if I don’t take you all the way down?”

Pulled out of her reverie, it took her a moment to process the meaning of the question, until she remembered her older sister was referring to the downhill driveway that led to their parent’s house.

“Oh sure! I forgot how tricky it is to turn around and come back up from there.”

“How could you forget you very nearly wrecked the paint job on dad’s brand spanking new car?”

Anna cringed with embarrassment at the memory, but a reassuring ruffling of her hair cued her in on the affectionate nature of the teasing. The car stopped and Elsa turned to face her with a soft smile.

“I’ll try to be quick ok? I’ll text you as soon as I know when I can come meet you.”

“Okay, I’m pretty sure we aren’t going very far in this weather anyhow.”

The car’s thermometer indicated an outside temperature of 37°C at the moment and she had a sense the felt temperature would only get worse. She grimaced, until Elsa reached over to hug her. She twisted in her seat, reaching to embrace her, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek, only to find they were both leaning in the same direction with the same idea. She readjusted, and so did Elsa, so they both course corrected once more, this time fully confident that she’d accomplish her task at hand. In their hurry to affectionately see each other off, the momentum they’d gained was too strong to brake, and somehow they both landed smack dab in the middle, their lips colliding in a soft peck.

Anna felt a little spark and let out a giggle, shared by Elsa who immediately looked up at the ceiling of her car, mortified, but unable to shake the wry smile of amusement.

“Nothing like a little accidental incest to get your day going huh?”

She shook her head and reached up to tuck a strand of hair back behind Elsa’s ear, shrugging nonchalantly, genuinely amused because what else could you do at such a ridiculous situation? An accidental kiss, with her older sister warranted laughs, and she was sure the rest of the family would find it hilarious when she’d tell them.

“It’s just like that Folgers commercial: the best part of wakin’ up, is incest in your cup.”

There was a glint of mischievous amusement in her eye, in spite of the sheepish grin, almost apologetic for what she had just said (rather than what she had done).

“Dear lord, Anna, just take your dog and go. At the very least this day can only improve as I’ve just hit rock bottom.”

Doing as she was told, she got out of the car, retrieving her dog from the back seat along with their belongings before she turned to Elsa, offering her a bright smile, the hint of a smirk still lingering in amusement.

“Bye, I love you, drive safely!”

“I love you too, see you later.”

She watched as the car pulled back up to the top of the hill, waiting for it to disappear, just long enough to feel the weight of the heat begin to crush her, Sun searing her skin with eager malice. Anna turned to look downwards, recognizing the solar panels on either side of the roof, and the glass roof of the integrated green house. It felt so familiar to her, and as she walked towards it, it gave her a sense of comfort even if it no longer really was home.

Subconsciously she reached up with her fingertips tracing her lower lip where the ghostly sensation of the peck crackled with electricity, forcing a little quirk of her mouth as the thought of it tickled her. How funny, she pondered, that she’d felt more from an accidental kiss with her sister than she’d had the last time she’d kissed someone. If that wasn’t the most obvious indicator of lack of chemistry, she didn’t know what was!

Knocking on the door she couldn’t wait to catch her parents up on this, tell them about the mishap, and couldn’t wait to see who amongst their relatives would have joined them for Anna’s welcoming home party.

However, when her mother opened the door and embraced her tight, prompting excited tail wags and jumping from her dog, and asking her how she was, Anna found herself unable to speak it, suddenly second-guessing whether Elsa would appreciate her telling them, and wondering if it would come across as weird after all, rather than strictly funny. She couldn’t shake the feeling, and wasn’t sure why.

A while later, the moment had passed with relentless overthinking on her part and even still as she drank coffee and ate croissants with her mother, father, her uncle and her cousin, the sensation of the spark lingered on her lips, leaving her flustered with butterflies at the thought of her older sister’s mouth.

That thought was soon cast aside however as her dog tried climbing into her lap which prompted her uncle to ask her about him.

“What kind of dog is that?”

Though the breed was becoming more prevalent in North America and increasingly popular with hunters it wasn’t quite as well spread in Canada as it was in the USA.

“Tűz is a Vizsla.”

“Gesundheit.”

She rolled her eyes, wanting to correct

“It’s a Hungarian Pointer breed. Pretty ancient, excellent and versatile gun dogs. I had him evaluated by a trainer in Sweden who said he was a natural bird dog. His name means ‘fire’, in Hungarian.”

Even as she was listing out her boy’s illustrious origins she figured it likely sounded just the slightest bit improbable to her uncle Frederic, given how said majestic hunter was currently curled up in her lap with his front paws on her shoulders.

“Huh. Y’know nothing beats a good Lab in my opinion but he sure is cute. He even looks like you, redhead and all!”

“Y’hear that? Uncle Fred thinks you’re cute! Don’t tell him you could outrun his lab in upland hunting any day.”

She turned to give her dog a little kiss on the cheek, but her mind immediately went back to the tingling she felt there, which seemed to amplify as she replayed the earlier moment with Elsa in her head, from start to finish. Her kopfkino was overshadowed with a much more pressing sense of dread however, when she heard her father’s warm voice cheerfully ask:

“Alright, who’s ready to rock and roll?”

-x.x.x-

Though Anna had been distinctly less than thrilled at the prospect of going back out into the the fiery pits of hell her hometown had become, she took some consolation in the fact they were headed to her favourite, fully air conditioned lake front eatery. To sweeten the deal, Tűz had been so charming and well behaved, the staff didn’t question his coming in, and he immediately laid down under the table as he had been taught to do.

The plan had been to eat first then head out to the beach for a swim. Of course no one had informed her prior so she hadn’t brought along a swimsuit, and she did her best to eat her lunch as slowly as possible. She’d failed to do the same with her drink though, the thirst was real and the long island iced tea was sweet. It had taken everything in her power not to text Elsa so as not to bother her (and avoid looking like the clingy younger sister she’d always worried she came across as).

Trying to ignore her phone as she shared anecdotes and tidbits of her time spent overseas, she almost missed the notification from her older sister.

Hey, I’m close to finishing up here. Where did you guys end up going?

Mid-sentence, Anna interrupted herself to focus on typing back a quick response.

We’re at The Captain’s Favourite, we’re almost done eating then we’re going swimming. Meet us at Faux Fjord Beach?

Awesome I’ll be there in about 15ish. Btw can you get me one of their Vodka Lemonade Slushies? Please and thank you! Can’t wait to get hammered on the beach and finally catch up with you ;* ( <- fully intentional, not accidental incest this time)

Anna blushed the slightest bit at the emoji, subconsciously biting her lip as it tingled again, and she giggled at the joke initially. At the very least, it was reassuring to know she hadn’t been the only one to think about their silly little incident this morning.

Omg I forgot this place did frozen cocktails, that’s an amazing fucking idea. Same tho, can’t wait! See you soon <3 (not sure that’s legal)

“So Anna, are you going to tell us about your boyfriend?”

Her eyes shot up from her phone to find her cousin Rapunzel with an eyebrow quirked and a knowing smirk, along with the rest of her family looking at her expectantly.

“My what?”

“Girlfriend? Whoever that was that just texted you! Clearly you’ve been holding out on us because dang girl, you’ve got it bad.”

Anna stifled the urge to grab her glass of water and toss it at her cousin’s face, force of habit from their youthful roughhousing days. The cycle of merciless teasing and correspondent indignation was just as part of being home as the rest.

“Chrissake no that was Elsa! I was laughing at one of her stupid jokes, she was asking where to meet us.”

Unimpressed green eyes looked at her with skepticism, unconvinced that Anna was telling the truth. Her first impulse was to show her the text exchange to prove it, but she then realized that the out of context inside joke would land with the current audience.

“C’mon, the girlish giggling? The lip biting? The blushing?”

Her ears felt hot and a flash of defensiveness flared up within her but she exerted just enough self-control not to throw herself into an argument about wrongful perception. Instead she pointedly ignored that line of questioning and relayed her older sister’s message to the rest of their family.

“She said she’d be here in 15 minutes, and I told her to meet us down by the beach.”

A familiar, warm, curious little head poked out from under the table, golden eyes round and hopeful.

“I said beach, not bitch.”

Laughter erupted around her and she let out a quiet sigh of relief under her breath, patting her dog softly as she leaned backwards sinking into the booth seat.

-x.x.x-

Anna was looking out at the water with a slightly forlorn expression, watching her dog swim out to her folks, then back to the shore on a loop of manic joy, wishing she could join them. Alas, with no bathing suit the best she could do was tie up her tank top, sitting in her daisy dukes under the sunshade, though she licked her wounds by sipping on the Bourbon Peach Lemonade Slushie she’d ordered.

When a pair of arms embraced her from behind, nonchalantly sliding over her shoulders she immediately perked up at the recognition of the familiar scent that accompanied them. Before she could say anything however, Elsa was kissing the side of her cheek (successfully this time), and her heart skipped a beat as she smiled in response.

“Hey, didn’t feel like swimming?”

Anna turned to look as her sister sat down beside her, scooting into the shade, though not before her eye had caught sight of the dew on her skin betraying the heat. It was a little nicer on the lake, a pleasant breeze kept it from feeling completely unbearable, but still it would have been so much better if she could’ve gone swimming.

“No one informed me either, remember? Didn’t bring my bathing suit.”

Reaching for Elsa’s drink which she managed to time almost perfectly before her arrival, she handed it over and took another sip from her own, her ears twitching slightly at the sound of the crushed ice compacting with the liquid.

“Thanks,” was the murmured acknowledgement.

“Guess that means you’re stuck drinking with me.”

Her sister reached up to ruffle her auburn hair affectionately and Anna raised her mason jar with a smug little smirk showing that she was already well under way.

“Way ahead of you, you’re gonna be playing catch up now.”

“Hm is that a challenge or a warning?”

Elsa’s tone sounded playful but her polarized aviator-style sunglasses hid the extent of her expression, making it somewhat unreadable. Anna shrugged, starting.

“Well if you aren’t a coward, it’s- ah!”

She shrieked as she felt sharp, cutting cold against her bared shoulder. Glancing over, she saw that Elsa had pressed her still perfectly icy lemonade against her skin, amusement curling her mouth as she took her first gulp through the bendy straw. Anna’s resent at the sudden cold melted like… well, snow in the sun as she noted the genuine mirth in her sister’s mischievous gesture and the way her perfect, bow-shaped lips wrapped around the straw.

“Don’t get cocky, getting hammered was my idea remember? I’m gonna see it through.”

Anna had scoffed but been unable to respond anything right away, instead distracted by the way the unruly strands of platinum that pried themselves loose from Elsa’s braid either floated softly, or stuck to the gentle sheen of her neck. Unable to resist the urge to try and tuck them back at times, it earned her an easy, quick smile whenever she did.

They’d remained mostly in comfortable silence, Anna stealing glances at Elsa’s exquisite face, trying to guess her expression behind the glasses she wore, studying how much she had changed, and it what was she was still identical to the way she remembered her. She wondered if her older sister was in any way aware of the stunning beauty she was.

If they spoke, it was with a mixture of familiarity and uncertainty, like they were both re-learning to speak each other’s language without having ever really left one another. In truth, even before she’d gone to study abroad, It hadn’t always been easy for Anna to read her older sister, penetrate through the wall of ice she guarded herself with. And yet, she had never felt like she was being treated with anything besides love and tenderness. She relished in the small touches, the tactile displays of adoration she had missed so dearly from her and marvelled at how ravishing and confident she managed to look with such a simple and laidback style. The ripped jeans, beater-boy tank top and the shades were achingly cool and suited her all too well.

She knew their parents were overly proud of her for getting a fancy degree overseas, and that they generally avoided discussing Elsa’s lack of direction in life. It didn’t matter one bit to Anna, she would always look up to and admire her older sister, maybe even more so because in spite of her struggles she’d managed to gain her independence.

A brush of the hand against her shoulder, a gentle stroke in the nook of her palm. Fingertips brushing her hair out into her back. Fuck, while she hadn’t been isolated the whole time she was away and had her share of memorable trysts, this kind of intimacy sent pleasant tingles down her spine, and she only just realized now how much she’d missed it. It made her own fingers twitch with the need to touch, to stroke, to hold but she kept her foot on the pedal, once again afraid of coming across as clingy.

When they had found the bottoms of their drinks, likely far too quickly for the amount of alcohol that were mixed in, Anna was resting her head on her older sister’s shoulder. Elsa had turned around to rummage through her bag, before handing Anna a bottle of spray-on sunscreen.

“Really? I’d like to remind you I tan m-more easily than you…”

Elsa laughed at that point and shook her head, reaching for Anna’s free hand with her own and giving it an affectionate little squeeze.

“That’s the point, I want you to put some on my back, you know I’m old and crunchy and cannot reach for shit.”

She snatched it out of her sister’s hand and scoffed.

“Firstly, shut up, you’re not old, you have a good two years of immortality left ahead of you.”

Popping off the lid she shook the bottle as per the instructions on the label before. It felt slippery with her palms so sweaty, matching the rest of her body’s glow. While the drink had been refreshing on the way down, she regretted the way the alcohol made her skin flush and feel hot at this point.

“Secondly, lie down, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Overheard in the town of Arundel. Out of context sisters.”

She felt like an idiot for laughing, but she couldn’t help that Elsa got her sense of humour so well and threw zinger after zinger about this since that very morning. Anna then waited for her to lay down on her stomach over the giant beach towel that had served as a makeshift picnic blanket.

Her heart felt suddenly a little more forceful as it beat faster in her chest when she looked down at the exposed shoulder blades and lower back revealed by the hiked up shirt. Her mouth felt strangely dry and she didn’t for a second question the notion of finding Elsa genuinely gorgeous as she began to spray the solar protection onto the pale, fair, just barely freckled skin.

Not wanting to hurt or surprise her, she very gingerly began rubbing to spread it more evenly. It soon became clear however that from this angle she wouldn’t be able to get the coverage the lotion needed in order to be effective. She swallowed quickly and subconsciously wet her lower lip with her tongue. Her head started racing as thoughts swirled in her head and she felt almost feverish. She knew she’d be better off straddling Elsa to apply the lotion properly, and she knew it was no big deal, yet still felt she should ask before doing so. On the other hand, asking might make it weird, and while they were enjoying their running gag from earlier this morning, this was a whole new level.

God. Was she really overthinking helping her sister to put on protective sun lotion? This was fucking ridiculous.

Buck up, or shut up.

Finally getting over herself, she swung her leg up, straddling Elsa’s thighs, trying to watch for any signs of discomfort as she went to work.

“Mh, do you mind pressing a little harder against my lower back? Cause that feels really nice.”

Elsa’s skin was already damp, but somehow mixing it with the sunscreen made it feel silky, rather than sticky to the touch and Anna obliged, hoping she wouldn’t lose track of where she’d already rubbed, or that the sweat beading at her own crown wouldn’t start dripping down on her sister because the thoughts and implications there were maybe a little bit much, even for her. Yet the more she spread out her touch, the more she thought about their earlier text exchange, suddenly fixating on the parenthesis and the emoji, and the accidental kiss and… truly the unbearably hot weather was getting to her head and she’d have half a brain cell to be convinced she had a fever.

“Leave some for yourself, in spite of what you think you still need to protect yourself too. I’ll even return the favour.”

Anna gulped, almost audibly.

Miles away clouds gathered hanging heavy and jealously holding the crushing humidity hostage, unbeknownst to them which in turn only cranked up the heat Anna was struggling with being subjected to. It created a restless tension within her, an unconscious anticipation.

-x.x.x-

The rest of the afternoon and evening Anna had been torn between the trepidation of going back to Elsa’s (their) place, and the secure comfort of her parents home. She’d avoided her cousin’s exacting questions about her European paramours and at dinner had been unable to focus on conversation as she’d felt Elsa’s occasional touch. The brush of her ankle against her leg, the innocent stroke of her hand on her side when she’d reach over for something on the table.

She’d told herself she was just exhausted from the heat and stimulation and simply wanted to get back to an environment where she could decompress.

And while it was true a huge part of her stress was lifted the moment they’d arrived back at Elsa’s (their) place, the excitement of being alone together crackled with an unfamiliar weight in the air. Tűz had gone immediately to plop down in the love seat closest to the AC unit and almost instantly had began to snore.

Elsa had dropped her keys on the kitchen counter, grabbing a pair of beers from the fridge, handing one to Anna before she’d walked towards the kitchen door leading to the patio.

“I packed a bowl this morning if you want. Just gonna have a quick smoke.”

Anna had nodded and gone to sit down on the couch, feeling weirdly tense, shaking a little as she’d reached for the glass pipe on the coffee table and the lighter next to it. She put a flame to it, igniting the smoke and breathing it in deeply, hoping it would help ease the knot in her stomach. The entire day had passed and yet, whenever she thought of the accidental kiss they’d shared this morning, the spark still felt vivid, like the simple thought was enough to reignite the sensation. She couldn’t remember sharing an intentional, yet alone an accidental kiss with anyone else that left the same imprint. She wanted to ask Elsa if it was the same for her, if the element of surprise was simply being mistaken by her mind and body for excitement.

After all, this was her sister. It couldn’t possibly mean anything else. The idea of it being anything more was preposterous and inconceivable. Right?

But when Elsa returned with the smell of tobacco mingling into her natural scent, and the woody notes of her perfume, mixed into a sweet, soothing and… attractive blend, Anna could only move towards her as she sat on the couch and looked up at her, a sleepy smile hiding the slight trembling in the rest of her body.

When she felt two hands cradle the sides of her face, her whole body went tense. Elsa’s icy gaze burned down into her eye and Anna’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it at the edge of her lips. She dared not twitch a muscle as the moment lingered and Elsa’s thumbs stroked her cheekbones with a heartbreaking gentleness.

A strike of lightning flashed outside, quickly succeeded by a crack of thunder.

Anna’s eyes closed as she felt soft, pink, perfect lips against her own, and her mouth parted invitingly on instinct as she leaned forward. The fever, the restlessness, the mania that had built up throughout the day exploded as torrential rains beat down against the window pain, and Anna pressed her upper body into Elsa, her hands finding the edges of her tank top, savouring the taste of her, especially as she suckled at the tip of her tongue.

Quiet gasps and sharp, shallow moans floated between them, and she hungrily kissed her back, nails scratching at the now exposed skin of her sacral area. She hooked her fingertips in the fabric of her shirt pushing it up with an urgency that was perhaps borne out of the clamour of the formidable display from the heavens outside. Though she’d have been lying to herself if she’d said it wasn’t also spurred on by the clenching she’d felt in her own lower belly any time she’d thought of her sister’s mouth against hers that day.

She broke the kiss, though not before she’d given Elsa a little nip of the teeth to her lower lip, and only long enough to hurriedly discard both of their shirts, giving her a coy, heavily lidded glance as she noticed her older sister’s gaze on her now exposed, freckled breasts and pert nipples. She’d not been wearing a bra because, well, it had been too hot, and she could in fact get away with it.

Confidently, Anna reached for the nape of Elsa’s neck giving it a littler squeeze to bring her back to herself immediately sliding her tongue between her lips. Her other hand caressed her side, the expanse of her stomach then travelling to the fabric of her bra. Meanwhile she produced little mewls of pleasure as she felt her sister’s hands cup her breasts hungrily and she shifted her position without missing a beat, pulling her down with her as she laid back on the couch, legs falling open, needing to feel the weight of her ribcage between her thighs.

The hand she’d held the back of Elsa’s neck with began flirting with the damp, soft skin and toying with the stray platinum coloured baby hairs. She felt Elsa shudder above her and felt her hand wrap around her wrist, pinning it above her head, which elicited a moan from Anna. Her hips rolled upwards and she felt instant frustration from the denim creating an unwelcome barrier between them and she wished it gone.

Her wish was apparently Elsa’s telepathic command.

Before she knew it they were squirming out of their respective skin tight denims with the clumsiness only eager urgency could bring. Her heart was thrumming to the relentless and unforgiving rhythm of the raging elements, and as her fingertips brushed against Elsa’s pulse, she knew hers was beating in time with them too. Chills went down her back at the thought of it and she left the harbour of her sister’s mouth to find that same point to the side of Elsa’s throat, kissing and nipping at it, causing their hips to connect frantically. One of her hands was still pinned above her head and her eyes burned with tantric desire as she looked up at Elsa, features magnified and deified each time the lightning flashed out of the living room window.

Anna let out a whine as she felt Elsa’s free hand slide between their two bodies, slick with sweat now and she knew she was blushing when she felt just how wet she was once her sister’s finger parted her folds, the heel of her palm teasing against the engorged bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. Her hips bucked upwards with need, both in shock of the sensation and in desperation for more.

Eyes flew shut as Elsa now pressed her own hips against her hand, creating a firm inescapable pressure against Anna’s bud, and her finger pumping deep inside of her.

“Fuck!”

It was not so much exclaimed as it had been hissed as Anna’s entire body rocked into Elsa, fingertips now tugging more firmly at the blonde roots she’d been gripping, as if clearly communicating she wanted her right there, and no further, desperate to feel her as close as possible, feel their nipples brushing against one another, bodies ravenously hungry for each other.

They found a rhythm though it started off hot, frantic and messy and they found themselves pressed forehead against forehead, mouths slightly agape in the beatitude of sin, and the unbridled lusts of their animalistic pursuit. Thrust upon thrust, roll upon roll of the hips, caused electricity to spark and course through the burning of her lower stomach, tensing and clenching as she felt herself flutter against the welcomed intrusion of Elsa’s touch. Her nervous system pulsated it seemed with the same electricity that ravaged the outside world, protecting rather than threatening their unspeakable passions.

“Elsa,” she breathed almost pleadingly as she felt a storm building inside of her, one to rival the majesty of the the fierce Summer storm rattling the windows with a reckless force.

“Anna,” was the sultry, husky reply. And not that she had any way of knowing this prior to that particular moment, but she could tell that Elsa was on the edge, just as close as she was, possibly closer. Her thighs squeezed harder around her sister’s hips, ankles locking together to keep her even closer than what was thought possible until that point.

She could feel it tugging at her loins almost painfully now and she dug her nails into her own palm, the sting and bite of the pain cracking her closer.

They cried out in unison as their climaxes crested in synchronicity, but the sounds were drowned out by an emphatic strike of thunder, so loud they could’ve sworn the house shook were it not that their own bodies were sent into a shaking mess of trembling frenzy. Overwhelmed and needing to channel it somehow as lightning and fireworks exploded in her mind’s eye their lips met into another electric, full mouthed kiss.

Waves of pleasure crashed over them, unrelenting until they could take it no more, the tension evaporating as they fell limp, heart to heart breathing tickling each other’s ears, the sensation of which enough to titillate them into wanting to continue.

Exhausted, Anna buried her face in the nook of Elsa’s neck, breathing in her sent deeply. Though driven by post-coital bliss, at the back of her mind a dark cloud gathered, fear attempted to bubble up, trying to ruin the glow. She nuzzled Elsa softly, kissing the sweat covered skin, humming gently at the taste as she deliberately avoided thinking about the mess they had made.

They had a lifetime ahead of them for her to process the guilt and the shame. Or unpack the fact she did not feel any regret in the immediate aftermath of the unspeakable.

My God, what had they done?

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm #lemon #cw: alcohol use #cw: substance abuse

9 notes · View notes

eury--dice · 3 years

Text

glitter and tree branches

happy (belated) holidehs, @singtomeinstead! thank you so much for your wonderful prompts and your even more wonderful dedication to this beautiful @sincerely-us gift exchange. hope your 2021 is off to a good start <3

(ao3 link in the notes!)

It all starts in Ellison Park.

Maybe that is the one thing, across any universe, that stays the same - that cannot change. No matter how you slice their story, it all starts in Ellison Park. Whether that beginning is a fall from a tree, a single form illuminated against the endless expanse of pink morning sky, or -

This.

It all starts in Ellison Park, 2006, when four families tangentially decide a trip to the park is the perfect spring activity, bundle up their five-year-olds and head off.

The Murphy’s arrive early. Larry guides the car over gravel until stopping, Connor and Zoe’s cheers from the backseat audible to everyone outside. Larry and Cynthia share a tight grin over their excitement, eyes pulled taut from lack of sleep.

“Ice cream!” Zoe shouts, eyes catching on the closed Dell’s lemonade cart just outside the gate. Connor is already chanting “le-mon-ade,” albeit much quieter than his sister. Cynthia raises a hand to massage over her eyes.

“It’s 11 am,” Larry points out. “No ice cream yet, sweetheart.”

“No!” They wail in perfect synchrony, only to promptly forget about sweets as soon as they’re unbuckled from the car and tearing off to the park. Cynthia sighs, gesturing for Larry to follow them while she gets what they need for the day.

Six-year-old Evan Hansen is decidedly a morning person. He has been a morning person since the day of his birth, and he will be one for the rest of his life. So while kids his age nod off against their parent’s shoulders on park benches and in their booster seats, he presses his nose against the window of the car and lets his breath fog it up even though he knows his father will scold him for the messiness later. As soon as they step into the park Evan’s vision tunnels into everything around him, sheer joy taking over as he pulls his hand from his mother’s and takes off towards the nearest tree.

“Evan!” she yelps, momentarily distracted from her argument with Mark. Since Evan normally never darts away from her, she’s caught off guard by his sudden energy, her heart rate skyrocketing with Mark’s words intangible in her ears. But Evan pays her no heed; he just runs, his parent’s arguing fading into the background for the first time he can remember. He stops at one of the trees, laying a palm against it and closing his eyes. Through his fingertips, it’s like he is rooted to the ground; like he himself is steady, consistent, and ready to provide comfort.

Heidi stops in her tracks once she can see that he’s safe, turning to Mark with an “are you seeing this?” expression, but he staunchly refuses to return her gaze.

Jared Kleinman is distinctly not a morning person, much to his friend’s dismay. Their parents always joked about it when they were little more than babies sharing naps in the Kleinman’s living room; Evan fussing at the first sign of light while Jared took more than a fair bit of commotion to so much as stir. So the Kleinman’s amble into the park a little after the Hansen’s, a still sleepy Jared leaning between his moms like a tiny labored soldier. He perks up on hearing Heidi’s voice, attuned to trouble as always, but his mom tightens her grip on his shoulder before he can run forward.

“Plenty of time for that,” she said in an undertone. “I don’t want you bonking your head because you’re sleepy.”

“I won’t,” Jared insists, offended at the mere notion he could mess something up.

His mother studies his eyes for a moment before relenting. “All right. Go see your friend.”

Jared takes off at once, a direct beeline to Evan - so direct that he doesn’t see the child-shaped obstacle in his path, immediately bonking heads and falling back onto his butt on the pavement, two glasses clattering noises filling his ears. “Oh my god,” he hears his other mom groan.

“You should be more careful,” a voice says, little-kid saccharine but mature beyond its years. “You’re Jared, right?”

“Alana! Are you okay?” a man calls at the same time Jared’s mom calls, “I told you!”

Jared hadn’t expected to see Alana Beck from his kindergarten class there, but he did all the same.

“Are you okay?” She says before he can respond. “My head hurts a bit. Does yours?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jared says. “A bit.” He reaches blindly for the first pair of glasses he can vaguely see, but when he puts them on his vision explodes and contorts.

“Are these yours?” they say at the same time, so Jared guesses she must have picked up his. They swap, and Jared frowns at a long scratch in his right lense before putting them back on.

“That’s why you need to look where you’re going,” Alana says, noting his frown. “My grandma says people get hurt when they’re not aware of their surroundings.”

“I guess.” Jared feels a little stunned into silence, even as their parents come over to check them. But finally, he manages to say “Do you want to come play with me and Evan?”

Alana scrunches up her nose, her glasses following. “Evan Hansen?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks on it for a moment, then throws a look to someone who must be her younger sister. “Okay,” she says, and that’s that.

The three unite by Evan’s tree, though Evan is a squirrel so he climbs nearly all the way up while Jared and Alana watch. Alana talks enough for all three of them, jabbering on about her family and what she misses from school now that they’re older, and that seems to ease Evan’s discomfort around a new person. He’s content to climb while they carry the conversation.

All three of their heads turn at the sound of a sudden splash followed by the shouts of two dismayed children. Jared laughs reflexively at the sight of horror on their nearly-identical faces, freckles elongated with their widening mouths. Evan drops down nimbly from the tree almost at once.

“Dad!” the boy calls, hands flying to his short curls to tug, and after a moment they recognize him as another classmate - Connor Murphy, in a different section, known to dominate the monkey bars at recess. “Why’d you throw it in the lake?”

“Emergency landing,” a man with graying hair replies, a little ways off from where Evan’s parents had settled. “Sorry, Con.”

While a few of their parents chuckle, neither of the kids appears sated; in fact, both look close to tears. The three by the tree exchange a look.

“Should we?” Alana says, and Evan nods, Jared already setting off towards the lake.

“What was it?” he asks loudly, once they near the two who lean over the surface of the lake longingly.

Zoe, who he only knew through Connor’s sharing time about his family, shot him a watery glare. “A airplane,” she bites out.

“An airplane,” Alana corrects, though she quiets when she’s on the receiving end of Zoe’s glare.

“We don’t have an airplane,” Evan says, looking between Alana and Jared for confirmation. “But, um…you can play with us?”

The two stare at each other for a beat, still working back tears, before they sigh.

“Not even one airplane?” Connor asks.

“Not even one.”

“My sister might have one,” Alana puts in. “I can ask?”

Connor eyes them warily for a beat before sighing again. “Fine. Zoe?”

“I guess so,” she says, voice small.

Friends acquired…apparently.

***

Most of the time, Zoe wishes she and Connor are real twins.

They feel enough like it - given that they almost always just played with each other - and even looked enough like it, if random people in the supermarket’s judgment could be trusted. People sometimes said they were Irish twins, which Zoe never quite understood, even after Cynthia sat her on the couch and explained the concept to her. Being Irish twins is fine and all, even though only their dad was even a little Irish (thanks, Murphy surname). But it isn’t as good as being a real twin, sharing the birthday she so desperately wants, sharing the grade above her own.

Instead, she’s stuck, out of the loop and behind. Alana comes over in the lunchroom on the days where she can, seemingly only willing to break the rules that keep her separated from everyone else due to grade. Zoe gets quite used to the sight of Alana beelining across the cafeteria, her star-patterned lunchbox unzipped and held to her chest as she weaves around students and faculty alike with a grace that Zoe assumes comes from dance. And she gets used to Alana parking herself right across from her, unzipping a small ziplock bag of baby carrots around the surprised looks of elementary school underclassmen, and saying something along the lines of “did Mrs. Gould teach you about magnets today?” And Zoe takes the offered baby carrot, puts away the felt-tip pen she’s been doodling with, and smiles.

She drags the other three over one day, though Connor’s lips set in annoyance over having to babysit his little sister and Evan’s set in something that looks closer to anxiety, casting anxious glances over to the faculty presiding over the lunchroom. Jared simply throws her an amused smile, squeezing between her and her friend from class and cutting Zoe off with a loud “Howdy!” before she can apologize for his behavior. Evan takes the unoccupied space on her right, his fingers messing with the clasp of his lunchbox. His eyes jump across the faculty members even as Alana and Connor sit across from her. She’s so used to seeing both of them across from her that it takes a moment for her to remember how different they usually are. Alana only ever looks like this, separated by a grainy plastic table and fluorescent lights, but normally she sees Connor under their warm kitchen lights and the honey-colored wood of their kitchen table.

“You don’t have to come over here,” she says quietly, words muffled into the collar of her sweater.

Alana just smiles and launches their normal lunch routine, this time with the added chatter from Connor and Jared, before Evan’s face shifts and Zoe lifts her eyes to see a faculty member appear just behind Alana.

“Aren’t you all at the wrong table?” They say, and the five scatter as quickly as they can, hoping to avoid docked recess as punishment. On the playground, Evan bites the corner of his nail nervously and Connor refuses to look in Zoe’s direction, staring instead towards the faculty hovering by the fences.

So much for trying to spend time together.

Out of school, though - out of school is equal for everyone, regardless of grade. No time to share, no privacy for their conversations, no good locations for their games.

“We should have a secret hiding spot,” Alana declares later that same day. Even from her position hunched under the bunk bed she shares with her younger sister, her voice carries such a sure tone that no one could even disagree.

“Should we all join you?” Jared quips. Connor responds by smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

“Not in my house,” Alana says, and for some reason, Zoe expects an eye roll or something of the sort, but she’s Alana so of course there’s only confidence and surety. “Do you really want my dads hearing everything?”

“We don’t have secrets,” Evan points out from his spot on the floor between Jared and Zoe. His sleeve brushes against Zoe’s when he fidgets, his hands moving his shoulders.

“We could,” Jared says. “How else are we going to steal all the Jell-O from the cafeteria?”

“I think you’re the only person who actually likes that Jell-o,” Zoe says, before immediately regretting it. The words slip through her teeth, liketh thad dell-o, rounded and off compared to all of her friends. Evan’s arm brushes against hers again.

“Of all the criminal plots, Jared,” Connor agrees.

“It’s gross,” Evan adds in an undertone, and Zoe is pretty sure she’s the only one who can hear it.

“But it would be a secret!”

“We’re not going to do that,” Alana says; words getting caught in a sigh. “But wouldn’t it be nice to talk without-”

As if on queue, her younger sister bursts into the room, catapulting herself onto the top bunk with a frightening speed. Evan falls into Jared as she hurtles over them, and Connor jumps practically a foot in the air.

With a comical precision, almost like something actually out of a comic in the paper that Larry loved to hand them on Sunday’s so they could “learn to read a newspaper,” they turn to look at Alana.

“Like I said,” she says, assuming her teacher voice.

“…Well, where?” Jared finally replies. “Our houses don’t work too well.”

“Outside?” Evan suggests hopefully. “Maybe the park?”

“It’s too cold, and our parents can’t always drive us there,” Alana says. “But maybe…hm…

At once, Connor and Zoe’s heads swivel towards each other.

“We have a place,” Connor says slowly, reading understanding on Zoe’s face. “Or…we will.”

Larry has passions that ebb and flow just like Cynthia, and for once Zoe is certain she and her brother are thinking of the same thing; the influx of wood he’d been purchasing recently, the power tools they heard whenever he was off work, the constant questions over whether they wanted to help.

A week later, the five stand in the Murphy’s backyard. Cynthia and Larry observe at a distance, their faces careful as they watch the kid’s reactions but obvious joy in the lines of Larry’s tiny smile.

“Oh my God,” Jared breathes. “Is it real?”

“No, dummy,” Connor says, voice filled with a pompousness that Zoe hates. “We bought a treehouse decal and spent all night getting it up there just to play tricks on you.”

“Don’t be mean, Connor,” Zoe says with the snobbiness she knows he hates. He sticks his tongue out at her in return.

Evan steps forward first, laying his palm against the tree trunk and staring up with a reverence Zoe never expected. He smiles gently, the light brushing his cheeks like burnished bronze, and Zoe looks away with a smile similar to her father’s.

“Well, let’s go,” Connor says, and Evan must take his words as invitation, because he forgoes the ladder and chooses instead to scale the tree limbs until worming his way in through the “window” of the treehouse. Zoe heard something like a fond laugh behind her, most likely her mother’s doing, before she raced off to the tree herself. She did opt for the ladder, however. Connor follows Evan’s dramatics, and Alana and Jared are close on Zoe’s heels.

“Woah,” she hears Alana breathe, and, well. Woah was right.

The treehouse isn’t very large, but to a bunch of elementary students it certainly feels like it. The smell of fresh pine assaults her nose, dust still floating around and tickling her eyelashes. The late fall light streams in through the slats and windows, leaving a gold-washed tint around the treehouse and all of her friends.

Connor wanders over to a small platform, and she follows, letting her other friends scatter about the room, chattering idly about the treehouse. Zoe leans her head on Connor’s shoulder, but just as she does Connor nudges Zoe with his elbow. Uncaring to her yelp, he asks “Do you have the thread in your room?”

“Thread?” She repeats, as it takes her brain a moment to catch up. “Ohh. Yeah. I think so.”

“Want to go grab it?”

“Why?”

He motions to his wrist and then to the group as a whole.

“Whyyyy me?” She says, the y drawing out into a whine in a true younger sibling move.

All the same, she’s on her way back up the treehouse with a tub of bracelet thread tucked under her arm five minutes later. Maneuvering up the ladder with it tucked under her arm proved to be a bit of a challenge, but nothing Zoe Murphy can’t handle. She does throw it through the window before her, though, which (by Connor’s horrified yelp) isn’t the brightest move. When she reenters, Connor is already gathering up thread and shaking dust out of it.

“Oh, yes,” Jared says, surging forward and grabbing a green and purple thread from Connor’s hands. He sits heavily on the ground, immediately beginning a complicated braid without any prompting. He looks up at their surprised faces a moment later. “What? I learned at camp this summer.”

“Did you learn, Evan?” Alana asks, likely remembering they went to the same camp.

Evan looks away, one hand reaching to pick at an imperfection in the wooden wall. He shrugs. “‘M not very good,” he says, and Zoe can’t help but remember the snatches of conversation she remembers overhearing accidentally from her parents - she had to drive down and couldn’t handle it and maybe talking to the school counselor came to mind.

She crosses to him without thinking, grabbing his hand. “I’ll teach you,” she blurts without thinking. Connor hands her her favorite colors without prompting, and Zoe begins a tri-color braid that’s probably more complicated than Evan needs, but he catches on easily enough after a few minutes, twisting the blue and purple and pink together into something beautiful.

They pass their first hours in the treehouse like that, singularly focused like only little kids can be, and when Zoe’s parents bring up pizza and Sprite they pause only to admire their fine work. Several bracelets adorn each of their wrists, each twisted by someone else and infused with why Jared jokingly called the power of love. And the sun sets on them all together, smearing grease across their faces and throwing loose bits of thread across their haven in the sky, and Zoe smiles.

***

It was nearing dinnertime, far too cold and far too quiet to be in a treehouse.

Connor and Zoe took to hanging around the treehouse even when their friends weren’t there, much preferring it to their former hiding places within the house. As the winter wore on and the days grew shorter, so did Murphy tempers, and cabin fever mixed in only made enclosed spaces more liable to combust. So, with the treehouse available, Zoe tended to grab Connor and the ukelele she’d just begun learning to play and sneaking out the sliding door into their backyard. That particular evening, the layer of fluffy snow that had just fallen masked their escape and allowed them entrance to the treehouse and cushioned any residual noise left from the kitchen. They still were bundled up, however, their parkas and hats pulled tight. Both had forgone gloves, however; Zoe felt her fingers stiffen and slip on her ukelele strings, while Connor seemed unperturbed by the cold while he sketched in his brand-new sketchbook. Save for her muffled ukelele noises and the faint rustling of small creatures in the snow and Connor’s pencil etching against paper, all was still.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to bring string instruments into the cold,” Connor said, breaking the silence. Zoe responded by strumming an e minor chord more aggressively.

They fell back into their rhythm, and Connor started to hum along to her strumming just as the pinks and purples broke through gray winter sky.

“We have a project,” a voice declared. startling both of them out of their individual reveries. Alana’s head popped up in the treehouse window, a giant pom-pom hat perched precariously over the intricate braided bun Zoe could remember seeing at school that day.

“Jesus Christ, Alana,” Connor said, sounding very much like a kid who was trying his hardest to get a handle on cussing and sounding cool. “How did you get here?”

Alana blinked, righting the large box she held in her hands. “Your parents said you were here.”

Connor stilled abruptly, while Zoe’s foot started bouncing. “You talked to them?”

“Yeah,” she said, and as if she knew their next question - likely because she did, from years of experience - “They seemed like they were calming down.”

“Good,” Zoe said quietly.

Impervious to the Murphy siblings’ shifted expressions, Alana dropped the metal box to the floor and followed it, dropping to the frosty pine boards like there was nothing else she’d rather do. “Anyway, we’re making a time capsule!”

“We are?” Zoe said, feeling amusement creeping into the edges of her voice.

“Yes. You’ll thank me in ten years.”

Zoe and Connor shared a look. Connor cut off the awkward silence that suddenly descended. “The ground is frozen. How are we going to bury it?”

Alana grinned over the lid. “My dads were talking about the thaw later this week.”

“No snow?” added a new voice. Evan popped up barely a moment later, likely having taken a wild path up the tree rather than using the ladder like anyone else, even when ice coated to every nook and cranny of the bark. “Already?”

“Apparently,” Zoe replied.

“Won’t it get all covered in mud?” Jared added, and Zoe spun her head around to look at Alana, fixing her with a sharp look.

“Did you invite everyone over to our house?”

Alana shrugged. “This is important. And there isn’t that much mud if you dig deep enough, Jared.”

“Again - why?” Connor interrupted.

“Because she says so, and it’s a kick-ass idea,” Jared said.

“Didn’t expect you to latch onto sentimentality, Kleinman,” Zoe muttered, startling a laugh out of him.

Alana pulled a binder free from the backpack she’d slung to the ground. “C’mon - what do you want to add?”

“Cheerios,” Jared said at once, earning a scowl out of Alana.

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, Jared-”

“He’ll shut up,” Evan rushed to cut him off. “So not food items?”

“More sentimental, I think,” Connor said.

“Exactly.”

Under Alana’s direction, they did just that. After a successful thaw later in the week Zoe took a shovel from the garage and helped them dig and re-bury dirt in the Murphy’s backyard, marked by a small stake Connor painted with acrylics from their mom’s craft supply.

“Now we wait,” Alana said.

***

Somewhere along the line, things get… tense.

Zoe reads the self-help books and watches the videos her teachers play on VHS tapes during their “health” classes. They all describe the same thing, a switch flipping with no warning once elementary school draws to a close and sixth grade begins. Admittedly, she watches them a year later than everyone else, forever cursed to be a year behind. But she knows it’s coming all the same - fault lines crackling out through the earth and darting between their feet, setting them all adrift on different paths, thunder drowning out their words where there used to be laughter.

Nothing could have prepared her for the actual occurrence, though.

The treehouse really is their de facto hangout spot, given the Murphy’s lasé-faire attitude towards where their children were and the complete privacy it afforded. With their newly-acquired Jazz Band extracurricular, Zoe and Jared always arrive late, normally to the sight of Evan and Alana reading and Connor drawing or some other combination of their group’s preferred activities. But when they climb the ladder to the treehouse that day, the air is…stilted, like Zoe has grown to expect inside the house. That kind of expectant anger, like you know something is going to go wrong but aren’t sure what it is yet.

Evan sits, his eyes darting between Alana and Connor and over to Jared and Zoe as they walk in like he can sense a disaster brewing. Jared flounces over to Connor, sprawling, earning himself a glare.

“Can I help you, Kleinman?”

He nods to the sketchbook in Connor’s hands. “Might want to clean up those lines.”

It only gets worse from there - cutting barbs thrown this way and that, all ready to strike and hit. Nothing too bad, at least not until Connor says get the fuck out of my house and Jared says at least I have other people who will take me and Alana says honestly can’t you two even try to act mature and Zoe hears herself say at least we’re not miserable all the time before she realizes that’s - patently false. And one by one, they storm away, hopping down with practiced agility they no longer have reason to use.

And there Zoe sits. Shutting down, like she always does.

***

Connor felt like he was suffocating.

Everything was aggressively there-every word spoken grating his ears, every shadow a little too dark and every light a little too bright, every glance so heavy it weighed on his chest. He felt uneven and on edge, like one loud noise would send him spiraling off of a cliff and bursting into tears.

“Zoe,” he’d said, coming up behind her as she stood at the counter. Maybe if he’d looked he would have seen how her shoulders tensed as soon as she heard his voice. Maybe if he’d listened he would’ve heard how Zoe’s breath hitched and how she quickly ran a hand over her face. Maybe if he’d paid attention he would’ve noticed how her hands clenched around her mug and she steeled herself. Maybe the glint of pain and fear and loneliness nestled deep within her eyes before she put her shields up as she turned around would’ve stood out to him. But he couldn’t even handle analyzing himself, and there was no hope for understanding Zoe.

“What?” She said, and even in his funk he noticed how her words appeared differently than normal. Maybe, if he’d taken a moment to think, he would have identified the source-fatigue, cutting through each letter. There was none of the venom they’d grown used to hurling at each other and pretending it didn’t burn once it touched skin. She sounded tired.

He rubbed the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve with us thumb, trying to pull an excuse out of nowhere. In reality, he just needed something to anchor him to Earth, but he couldn’t say that to her. “Could you paint my nails?” He bit out, risking cutting his gaze up to her face. Her eyes had widened slightly since he last looked at her, eyebrows lifted silently with them. She pulled her bottom lip between her front teeth, and she looked down and away, foot tapping some unfamiliar rhythm against the tiled floor. Silence hung between them, dark and heavy, nearly drowning out the tap tap taptap tap of her foot. He looked back up towards her, not quite meeting her eyes, perhaps a bit more expectancy in his gaze than he would have liked.

She shook her head slightly, ring finger tapping against the side of her mug. “Why?” She said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

“Why am I asking…?”

“Yeah,” She said, same fatigue in her voice. “Why are you asking me? When this is the first time you’ve talked to me in…what, four months without being forced to?”

Connor shrugged a little, taken aback by this reaction. A soft, incredulous laugh built in Zoe’s throat.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, voice choked. “I don’t understand. You’ve broken down my door twice. I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Why would you want me to…”

“I don’t know,” Connor said, voice uneven. Zoe shook her head again.

She stared evenly at him, and maybe if he’d been paying better attention he would have noticed the thin sheen of tears in her eyes as he raised his eyes to meet hers. “What color?”

“What?”

“Nail polish. If I painted your nails. What color would it be?”

Connor resumed rubbing his sleeve. “Black.”

She bit her lip again, the edges of her mouth curling into a bitter smile, words sounding just as bitter. “Damn. I’m out of black.”

The edge of Connor’s mouth twitched even as he felt something sink inside of him. “I see,” he said, a touch harder than the previous words had been.

Zoe shrugged, hand still wrapped around her mug, as she pushed her hip against the side of the counter to launch herself away from it. “That’s that, I guess.”

“I guess so,” Connor responded, voice hollow.

Maybe, if he’d looked up instead of locking his gaze on the floor, he’d have seen the tense hold of Zoe’s shoulders, the moment of faltering before she continued walking.

“I guess so,” she repeated faintly, all edges gone form her voice and tiredness abundant.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, she was completely gone from the kitchen. He gazed around for a moment, letting the view of the kitchen wash around him.

Oh, how the mighty fall.

***

Zoe is desperately glad she and Connor are only Irish twins.

Distance - distance is what she needs more than ever. She’d hated it, that chasm between her and everyone else, but of course she couldn’t have known just how wide that chasm could get. Would get, with time and urging and their circle falling apart under the right amount of pressure.

The right amount of pressure, she thinks, poised to flee on her kitchen chair, leg bouncing and heart coiled, for Connor to come home. He does, of course, sullen and tired, but in front of her eyes all the same. It’s only been a year since they reached critical mass in the treehouse, but the shift in all of them came quickly and without mercy. Alana buries herself in more work than Zoe had ever thought possible, always hurrying away whenever Zoe tries to get a word in edgewise. Jared just darts his eyes around like a caged animal, calculations churning behind his eyes as though searching for his best way forward. Evan she still sees somewhat regularly, making sure that her parents still drive him home and letting him crash on their couch when Heidi works too late, but she’s seen him retreat into himself too often to think he’s okay. And Connor…

“What are you doing up?” he whispers, the sound traveling across their kitchen table.

“Waiting for you,” she responds in a similar hiss, snapping her laptop shut.

“You should’ve just gone to bed, Mom’s gonna be pissed if she sees the li-”

“When she sees her son walk through the door at-” she lifts her phone dramatically, searching for the little time symbol. “1:12 in the morning?”

“Well she won’t see it if you just go to sleep-”

“What are you even doing?” she says in a normal tone, though she recoils and presses a hand over her mouth when Connor’s eyes widen in warning. She and Connor freeze with their hands stifling their breathing, trying to hear any shifts from their parents upstairs with their identical eyes wide. After a beat of nothing but the house shifting in the wind, she lowers her hands, swiping up her laptop with the one closest to the table. “You don’t need to be out this late, Con.”

His eyes flash over to her, then back up to the ceiling. “You don’t need to stay up for me.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll just stop worrying, I’ll just go to bed and dream sweet dreams when you’re doing hell knows what-”

“I didn’t ask you to fucking worry about me!” He cuts out. “I don’t need your pity, Zoe!”

She balts, shakes her head, feels her braids sliding against the material of her jazz band sweatshirt. “Pity?” she repeats.

Connor holds his jaw, looking away.

“Pity,” she says, then laughs a single time, too loud, but she’s past the point of caring. “I don’t know where you got pity from in the last fourteen years, Connor, but none of it is coming from me, that’s for sure.” She brushed past him. “Fine. You don’t deserve my worry anyway. I’ll tell mom in the morning if you’re so insistent.”

Connor’s footsteps hurry after her, until his fingers wrap around her wrist. She jerks it away as soon as he makes contact, “Don’t. Please.”

“You want me to stop worrying?” she says lowly, dangerously. “Fine. Then I’ll make sure you can’t do anything that worries me. See how you fucking like that.”

It was like a switch flipped in Connor, like as soon as their group fell apart so did he, growing more liable to shut down and ramp up at once. But he just leaves her grasping at straws always, never able to say anything right.

Middle school bleeds into high school, the chasm and pressure growing between them, small disagreements exploding into screams and something valuable shattering. Doors they’d never closed before close with racorous clangs, and Zoe grows tired of sleeping outside of them and waiting for him to open them up.

You don’t need to worry about me, he’d said, and she can’t ever stop, really, but she can ignore him until the worry clawed at her a little less urgently.

Try as she might, she couldn’t just forget all those years, especially when she saw reminders of them all around school - flashes of Jared’s shirts, an edge of Alana’s backpack, a flicker of Evan’s eyes. She still goes to the treehouse, sometimes, but mostly she keeps to her room, her guitar, the things she knows.

Her phone buzzes one night, and when she sees Evan Hansen flash across her screen she picks it up without a moment’s thought.

“Hello?”

“Zoe?” Evan says, voice breathy in her ear.

There’s a beat. “Yeah,” she finally says. “You okay?”

“I’m - yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s all - uh, my mom is pulling a night shift.”

“Oh?” She says, barely a hum.

“Yeah. She - look, this is, um, really dumb, I know, but can I - can I stay at yours? Tonight? I know it’s been, um, less than ideal, I can just-”

“Yeah,” she says, again without thinking. She squeezes her eyes shut, forces enthusiasm into her voice. “Yeah. ‘Course, Ev. I’ll - you need me to pick you up?”

“What? Um - no, I’m - I’m at the park, actually, walking is…fine.”

Her eyebrows pull closer together. “It’s late.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

Ten minutes later, Evan is on their front porch. Cynthia greets him with a warm smile, and Zoe leans against the doorway of the guest room while he sets himself up.

“Are you okay, Evan?” She hears herself ask.

His head jerks up quickly, locking eyes with her. “I-I’m fine.”

Zoe shakes her head, letting out a but of air through her nose. “What’s up, then?”

His hands still over his backpack, and he looks just past her head to the hallway. “I couldn’t be alone in that house.”

She hesitates for a moment, nods, looks to the corner of the room. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

Her eyes snap back over to him. “What?”

“Do you - have you been alone, Zoe, through all of this?”

She snorts. “Good as.”

“But never actually-”

“Loneliness isn’t always distance,” she spits out. “But if it was you’d be all set, given how much you run away from all of us.”

Time slows to a crawl; Evan lets his hands fall to his sides, eyes wide and searching on hers.

“I’m,” she begins, the word getting stuck in her throat. She looks towards her feet. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, but before he can say anything she says “I’ll drive you in tomorrow” and is gone, set off down the hallway.

The next morning she gets to her car early, knowing, somehow, he’ll climb in with enough time to get there. And he does so wordlessly.

Somewhere, on the way to school, he murmurs, “I’m sorry for pulling away.”

She taps her index finger against the wheel, looking out towards the road rather than him. The scene is desolate, still early-morning and deserted with the yellowing pools of light from streetlights that have yet to switch off. “Yeah, me too.”

Every day, he swings by her house - a long walk, making his day longer, but he’s always been an early bird - to get a ride to school. Connor joins them occasionally, but mostly he arrives by his own means that Zoe isn’t too interested in learning. He talks to Jared, little by little, and she sees Connor and Alana in the library and Jared and Alana with their heads bowed together at lunch. She finds a picture of them in the treehouse and texts it to them as a group, and things feel a little closer to okay.

After high school, things start to calm down, like an inflamed cut that needs to be soothed. She and Connor stand in each other’s doorways until they have the courage to walk inside, and their newly-reinstated group chat keeps a steady flow of bad memes and musical theater jokes. It’s easier to breathe when she’s at school, easier to move and be. She’s used to being alone in a house full of people; being alone in a city of lonely people is close enough that the transition is almost nothing.

She misses everyone, though. Evan texts her pictures of the trees back home and around the community college, and Connor snaps Jared and Alana when they’re around. She’s the only one who left, this time around. Removed by physical distance rather than a measly year.

She gets home for winter break halfway through December, and an unusually warm one at that. Connor follows her up to her room, watching her unpack likely half in an attempt to give her some privacy from their parents.

“You seen Evan yet?” He asks at some point, once he’s grown bored of watching her fold clothes.

“No, not yet,” she replies with saccharine sweetness.

“You should,” he mocks in a similar tone of voice.

“I will.”

Their ridiculous miming comes to a halt when she withdraws a rattling bag from her backpack and throws it onto her bed. Connor dives forward, grabbing at it. “Is this-did you just throw nail polish?” He demands.

She looks him dead in the eye and does the same with her other bag.

“Dishonor on you,” he mutters, already unzipping it and rifliging through the colors with a clink each time. “Want me to do your nails? They’re looking…” he trails off, eyes dipping to her unpainted and bitten nails, worn down by her guitar strings.

“I could say the same to you,” she says. “Stones and glass houses, dear brother.”

“Point taken.”

They take the time to paint each other’s nails after dinner, sitting on their living room couch. Connor opts for a dark blue instead of his gala black, and chooses gold glitter for the upcoming holidays for Zoe.

“Please don’t get nail polish on the couch, Zoe,” her mother says as she passes by to go to the kitchen, and she and Connor lock eyes. He rolls his; she smiles tightly.

“You’d think she say it to me, given that I live here,” Connor whispers.

Her phone bzzs in her pocket, and instinctively she reaches for it, noting the way the golden glitter glints against the denim of her jeans.

Evan Hansen: gonna leave mom’s for a walk, you tied up?

She feels the corners of her lips twitch involuntarily. Yes, please. Ready in 10?

“I’m gonna take a walk,” she announces loudly enough her parents should be able to hear it from the next room. “It’s just Evan,” she adds in an undertone to Connor. “Want to come along?”

“Nope. Have fun, though, I guess.”

“So enthusiastic.”

Evan is waiting outside, bundled up in a scarf and parka. His eyes pinch at the edges like they always do when he’s tired; she surges forward and slides her arms around his neck, colliding with him softly so he lets out an oomph. She feels a kiss pressed to the top of her head a moment later.

“Hey,” she says, muffled into his coat. “You’re overdressed.”

“You’re underdressed.”

“Fleece is never wrong.”

“…I suppose you’re right?” And then, with some trepidation, “oh no. Not again.”

“I’m always right,” she says lightly, throwing him a smile so he knows it’s a joke. She reaches for his hand, tugging him forward lightly. “Heidi‘s doing well?”

“Well as always, yeah. Your family?”

“All…fine,” she says. “Just, y’know…stressed.”

“Mhm,” Evan hums, and she can tell he’s trying to say something, so she just squeezes his hand lightly and falls silent.

“Dad wanted me to go h–to Colorado,” Evan blurts. “For Christmas.”

She pauses a little at that, tugging his hand closer. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He swallows gently, watching the sky with a ferocity she can barely remember him having. She sees the stars shine in his deep brown eyes, though they seem a little too starry to be reflection alone. He blinks rapidly. “Mom encouraged me,” he adds, “but I–Zoe, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t blame you,” she says, letting out a jet of breath. “I wouldn’t be able to either.” She lets her eyes drift upward and pulls him a little bit closer to her, wrapping her free hand around his arm. “Can’t,” she amends, all breath.

“He still doesn’t care,” Evan says, almost to himself. “He knows what I fucking celebrate, and he still doesn’t–care.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a dick,” Zoe says before immediately wishing she could take it back. That kind of bluntness helps her and Connor, but never Evan.

But Evan surprises her all the same. “You’re not wrong.”

A laugh bursts from her chest, and after a moment Evan joins her, albeit hesitantly. “Like I said,” she repeats, “never am.”

Evan’s ghand remains chilly in hers, despite his best attempts to keep warm with his jacket; she brings his hand over to hold it in both of hers, wincing a little as his cold fingers meet hers.

“How are you so cold all the time?” she murmurs, massaging over his knuckles with one hand.

“How is it for you?” He asks suddenly, his brain taking him in a whole new direction. Zoe isn’t phased by the topic change.

“It’s…like it always is,” she admits, her voice low. She pulls Evan’s hands closer to her heart, trying to convince herself it’s just to warm him up. “Better with Con, I guess. But it’s still…” she swallows roughly. “I feel like I can’t…breathe, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Evan says quietly. “It can be hard.” He frees his hand, only to wrap it around her shoulders. She steals his other hand as soon as they get situated in a good walking pace.

Almost nothing about Evan is calm, but he’s calming all the same. He’s all Zoe can think of as they turn in front of Ellison State Park.

Evan stills, and Zoe keeps walking forward for a moment, accidentally tugging at their conjoined hands. She looks back at him immediately, tone filling with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Is that…” he mutters, before surging forward and pulling her rather than the other way around. “Alana! Jared!” He calls, uncharacteristically loud. And sure enough, in the distance, she can see Alana and Jared leaned over something just inside the bronzed gates of Ellison Park.

“Evan!” Jared calls, only to immediately get shushed by an old couple taking a walk around the park.

They hurry across the street, waving wildly to the single car that seems perplexed by their crossing, and Alana passes something to Jared before pulling them both into a too-tight hug that reminds Zoe of her mother.

When they pull away, she ruffles Zoe’s hair like she’s a little kid again. “There’s our city girl.”

“You should’ve joined me!” Zoe protests, already moving over to Jared to hug him.

Jared looks like he might shy away for a second, but he relents only a second later, a hug almost as tight as Alana’s. Zoe’s pulled away by a pressure at her leg, something soft poking through the tears and a panting noise. When she looks down, the downy face of a dog stares back up at her, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. Without thinking, she drops to the ground, offering him a hand as she balances on one knee. He nearly knocks her over a moment later when he bounds forward to lick her cheek and request pets. She looks back up at the obvious joy on Alana’s face.

“You adopted a dog??” She asks, remembering the powerpoint Alana made in middle school trying to convince her parents.

“Yes! We just got him this weekend and he’s already the best boy.”

The golden glint of a collar tag catches her eye. “Archibald? Well, aren’t you just a joy, Archie!”

“He doesn’t like Archie” Alana says a bit curtly, mid-coaxing the dog back towards her. She flips a few braids that had escaped her ponytail over her shoulder just in time for the dog to make a grab for them. She grins down at him before looking back up towards Zoe. “Is Connor around? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Yeah,” Zoe says. “Here, I can…” She pulls out her phone to tell Connor to join them, making a silly face when the dog makes a u-turn to lick her cheek.

Connor Murphy: are you and hansen bein gross

Zoe: alana and jared are here dork

Connor: with archibald?

Zoe: how. how did you know this

Connor: lana and i have a snap streak of 150k. keep up

Zoe: side note do you know why she named her dog after an elderly british man

Zoe: and won’t let me call him archie

Connor: says archie’s a dumb name and she “thinks its refined”

Zoe: lmao k

“Connor should be by soon,” she relays, smiling back down at the dog. He takes a particular liking to her; she can’t quite get used to it. “You’re a good baby, aren’t you?”

Something occurs to her all of the sudden, and she pulls her phone back out.

Zoe: WAIT are you still by the house

Connor: just leaving why

Zoe: …yknow that old time capsule?

Connor: are you going to ask me to dig it up in mid december while you’re hanging out with our old friends so i can bring it to the park

Zoe: yes

Connor: you were put on this earth to test me

Connor: be there in 15

“He’s bringing something,” she adds, and ignores their curious looks in favor of the dog.

When Connor’s shape finally appears, it’s carrying a bag rather than a box. “It was shot,” he explains in an undertone once he gets close enough for Zoe to hear. He reaches out a hand and lands a spare pat to Archibald’s head. “Had to improvise.”

“Hey, Connor!” Alana says, almost too cheery. Connor raises a hand, plopping the bag in the middle of their circle but out of Archibald’s reach.

“We don’t want your weird sex stuff, Connor,” Jared says, and Zoe shoots him a glare.

“It’s the time capsule, actually, but thanks for the input,” Connor says before Zoe can speak.

A beat passes, no noise but Archibald’s panting.

“Oh,” Alana says after a moment. “Your parents let you keep that?”

“They didn’t know,” Zoe and Connor deadpan at the same time. Jared stifles something that sounds like a cough but is probably closer to a laugh.

Zoe looks at Evan and reaches out to lace their fingers together again. He looks around the group, studying each person’s face. “Should we…”

Jared reaches forward and overturns the bag.

Glitter is the first thing Zoe sees; she hears Evan hiss “shit” as it explodes everywhere over the grass. It’s green, which makes that portion of grass look unnaturally healthy and shiny. Jared looks up; some had reached his glasses lenses, as he was the one to set the glitter loose.

“Alright,” he says. “Who put the glitter in?”

Alana grimaces and holds Archibald back from the pile of glitter. “I’m pretty sure that was you, Jared.”

“…Oh.”

Zoe leans forward, picking through the cacophony of items and silently handing them out. A few purple, pink, and blue friendship bracelets find their way throughout the group, and Connor even puts one on to a joke from Zoe about stealing the bi colors. Jared reclaims a few of the Connor has to make a quick grab for a few sheets of paper in the wind that turn out to be filled with his sketches. Zoe picks up a purple ukulele pick, feeling it slide between her calloused fingertips. She hands Evan an outdated pamphlet from Ellison State Park about their rangers program to Jared’s exclamation of “That’s what you put in??” and throws a few ballet ribbons and a small journal in Alana’s direction.

Jared’s makes her pause, and he takes advantage of the lull to surge forward and snatch the object from her hands. The silicone abides easily. “So that’s where I put my iPod!”

“Why did we let you do this?” Zoe says. “Why did your parents?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Jared admits, examining it for quality. He looks up and around their assembled group. “I forgot about it immediately after burying it.”

Alana laughs first, and then she sets everyone else off, a group of college-age kids giggling over a pile of glitter and their childhood treasures in the park where everything began. Evan falls into Zoe’s side, unable to curb his laughter; she buries her own in the top of his head, his curls tickling her cheeks and making her laughs worse. And as they get dirty looks from everyone around them, the night only feels like another beginning.

#sincerely us #deh #dear evan hansen #bandtrees #evan hansen #zoe murphy #alana beck #connor murphy #jared kleinman #mine #deh fanfic

30 notes · View notes

generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine

Introduction: ~7,600 words

mat barzal series

summary: A lot changes in ten years, and a lot changes when someone grows used to having constant attention, fans, and fame- so surely the boy you knew back then was long gone. Even if you had been the closest of friends that one month back in 2008, there was no way he remembers you, or even wants to talk to you anymore...

an: Here it finally is!!! I know, I know, it's super long. I was gonna split it up, but it made more sense to keep the intro in one part for the backstory and setting up the main plot and then have the rest of the story on the beach. I really hope this comes together like I want it to!

From the moment you first saw him, you knew you were going to be best friends; but what you could never know, at only nine years old, was that you were going to fall head over heels in love with him one day.

Looking back now, he was adorable as a child, but that wasn’t what your little nine-year-old mind was thinking at the time. All you were focused on back then was the sheer awesomeness of that sandcastle he was building and the overwhelming amount of loneliness that was overtaking you on what was supposed to be a fun, month-long family vacation. He was just a boy, caked in sand from crawling around on his hands and knees to construct what you thought back then was the most complex structure of architecture in existence, and you were just a girl, your desperation for a friend to play with outweighing your shyness. Your parents seemed too busy with the new babies to pay attention to you, so you had to find someone else to hang out with, and here was this boy. You had approached him hesitantly, just really wanting something to do and someone to play with other than your annoying siblings, hoping that he wouldn’t turn you away.

“Did you make that?” Your first words to him were spoken shyly, hesitant, and had him looking up at you, squinting from the sun through his dark locks of hair.

“Yeah.”

“All by yourself?” He nodded again, looking proud. “It’s awesome!”

“Thanks!” He glanced back to his work for a second before pushing himself to his feet and offering you a sand bucket. “You wanna help?”

“Yes, please.”

“Cool.” He smiled brightly, showing off a missing tooth, and you smiled back, it was impossible not to with how full of sunshine this boy seemed to be. You followed him out towards the water to scoop up some wet sand. “I’m Mat.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

It was really that simple to become friends. You soon came to find that Mat was really funny, one of the funniest people you’d ever met- and still to this day you couldn’t forget how green his eyes sparkled in the sunlight while he was laughing, even if he was just laughing at his own silly jokes. The two of you slaved away at building your sandcastle in the hot sun and laughing at each other’s jokes for what seemed like hours before your parents came over to find you playing with a new friend. Your parents and his talked- about nothing you cared about at that age- while you and Mat sat with your feet in the water, eating ice pops and getting sunburned without a care in the world.

You still thought back to that month to this day. It was still one of your happiest memories: those hot watermelon and ice pop summer days giving you sticky faces and hands and sunburnt skin, eating ice cream on your tenth birthday and skipping along the pier next to him with your moms chatting behind you, collecting shells and messing with crabs together, being splashed with seawater and laughing even though you wanted to be mad at him. That was your happy place.

One conversation you remember distinctly from later that month was when you and Mat were sitting on the beach, sifting through the sand and collecting shells. Well, you were the only one actually collecting shells; Mat thought it would be funny to sit there and throw little crustaceans at you and make you shriek. Eventually, a hush had fallen over the two of you, and Mat spoke up. “I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

“The what?” Mat laughed at you, but you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. You laugh at yourself today, looking back.

“Do you know what hockey is?”

“Duh. My dad watches it.”

“I like to play hockey. I’m going to as a job one day.”

“That sounds cool!” Your young mind couldn’t even comprehend having any adult job, let alone knowing at this age what you want to do for the rest of your life Obviously, Mat was a boy who had plans. “It looks dangerous, though, do you get hurt?”

“I don’t really get hurt much.”

“I bet you’re good at it, then.”

“I am!” You smiled and laughed with Mat and leaned over your pile of shells to hug him, the deepest form of showing affection you knew at that point.

“I’ll come to see you play one day. I promise.”

Remember when life was so simple that a sandcastle was all that was needed to spark the beginning of a wonderful friendship, even if it only lasted a month? Remember when we didn’t have to worry about grades and work and money and taxes? Sometimes you wished you could take yourself back to that month, so you could have a distraction. You’ve been looking for a distraction like Mat had been all your life- while your parents fought from the other room, while you stressed over tests in school, during heartbreak after heartbreak, while you dealt with pressure taking standardized tests or getting your first job, or moving to New York City alone only weeks shy of your 20th birthday during the summer before you started college. Every now and then you would forget about that summer, but the moment you’d stress over something, your mind just drifted off and daydreamed of that lighthearted smile, and those shining green eyes, and you hoped he was happy wherever he was.

Mat.

Damn it, you would have tried years ago to google him or something if you knew his last name, or even where he lived. Unfortunately, those aren’t topics of interest to children, so they never popped up in your conversation, and neither your mom or dad seemed to care enough to remember what they talked about with his parents, probably too busy fighting all the time, you mused.

The fall after you’d moved to New York for college, your roommate Amy, who was extremely welcoming and always made you feel at home, decided to introduce you to the sports teams of the city in an effort to get you out of your apartment and away from your work. It was just your luck, you realized later, that she was especially into hockey. You were vaguely familiar with hockey, your dad used to be a huge hockey fan in your youth, but stopped many years ago in the midst of your parent’s marriage practically falling apart. Now he only watched it occasionally, a few years behind on who was up-and-coming. “Hey, might as well learn the sport. Maybe one day you’ll reconnect with that boy from your long-ago summer romance!” She spoke teasingly, lightheartedly, always loving to hear the sweet story of your childhood best friend who had slipped away and may have disappeared forever. She was always one for cliches. You had told her many things about your time with Mat, but never used his name; no, that felt too personal, as if he was a secret for only you to know about.

“Oh, come on, Ames!” You laughed, but you couldn’t help but hope. “We were, like, ten! I don’t think that qualifies as romance.”

“Maybe not, but the way you describe him… If you would’ve met in your teens, that story would have ended with some cute, awkward first kisses.” She loved a good love story, and you smiled and shook your head. Yeah, honestly, you wish you’d known him later in your life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

So, eventually, she took you to an Islanders game, letting you borrow a blue hoodie of hers from her large collection of NHL merchandise so that you would look like more of a fan. You sat through the game with her, excited and interested and eager to learn as she kept pointing things out to you to help you understand the game. Despite it being an NHL game, you hadn’t thought of the boy that sparked your interest in the sport all night, until, about halfway through the game, you saw a name mentioned overhead.

Mathew Barzal.

You knew it was nothing. Literally nothing. There are plenty of other people named Mathew, idiot. But you couldn’t help the soft spark of memories in you. You pushed it out of your mind and went back to the game, even though something, just something was nagging away in your head. When you looked up to the screen above the ice, you caught a glance of the name again. Mathew, spelled with one ‘T’. A vivid memory pops to your head- you and Mat tracing your names and other words into the sand with sticks, just for fun, because that’s what entertains a ten-year-old apparently.

“I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

Mathew. One ‘T’. NHL. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, plenty of people probably spelled it that way, and you were probably grasping at straws, but hey what were the odds? A hockey player, Mathew. If only you could get a good look at the guy. Or… or something. You probably wouldn’t even recognize someone after ten years of not seeing them; you could hardly recognize ten-year-old you in photos! In your head, Mat was still eleven years old. Honestly, was there even a way to figure out if it was him or not? Ask him if he happened to meet a girl on a family vacation a decade ago? Yeah, and when would you get the chance to ask a professional athlete such personal questions?

...Well, tonight, apparently.

As you left your seats after the game, everyone happy and celebratory after a win, you almost had a heart attack when Amy grabbed your arm and shrieked. “Oh my God, oh my God, (Y/N)!” She pointed to her phone in shock, and you still couldn’t tell what she was reacting to, but calmed down, realizing it probably wasn’t life-threatening.

“Holy shit, Ames, are you trying to kill me?”

“Listen, listen.” She calmed down a bit, letting out a small laugh. “So let's just say someone I know, knows somebody,” You laughed a bit, knowing this was gonna be some new interesting gossip. “And they know where the players are going out to celebrate tonight.” She sent you a suggestive, winking look.

“No way. You want to go and… interact with them? Professional athletes? Us, talking to professional athletes?”

“I mean, yeah. Are you telling me you don’t want to flirt with a hockey player?” She saw the look on your face and shook her head. “Or! Or not even flirt. Just talk. Get a picture with them, or a signature? Or just let me talk and you can wave to them. I can promise you they’re all pretty nice to their fans.”

“You sound as if you’ve talked to them all before.”

“No, only one. And it was more of me talking and him saying ‘cool, cool.’ while he signed my jersey. But I always hear that they’re really sweet.”

“Well,” you thought for a moment. It would be pretty freaking cool to try and befriend a professional athlete, or even just pretend for a night that you knew them. You definitely don’t go out enough, you hadn’t really been to many bars- you had only turned 20 a few months ago and couldn’t drink yet, so what was the point? In fact, you’d barely left your tiny apartment since moving, and even though you weren’t one for bars or clubs, you were in New York City, for fuck’s sake! Might as well go out and live, right? “Alright, let’s go. But if we actually see them, you have to be my wing-woman.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

The bar you were going to wasn’t far from the rink, and according to a google search of the place, it didn’t seem too sleazy or gross- that was good. Of course it’s not sleazy, why would someone as rich as a bunch of professional athletes go to a sleazy bar? Because it was only a little further than where you had parked, the two of you walked together. As it settled in your head that you might actually see professional hockey players tonight, you started feeling a little nervous. Partially because you’ve never been in a place with that many famous people at once, but also because of the name that was still circling your brain.

“Hey, so I’ve had something on my mind because of this game.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re gonna think I’m completely crazy, but listen.” She looked up with a face, ready for your story.

“Give it to me.”

“Okay, so... this kid I told you about, that I met that summer? His name was Mathew. Spelled with only one ‘T’, I remember that clearly.” You laughed a bit, wondering how crazy you must have sounded to her. “And he told me he was gonna play in the NHL, right?”

After a second, you saw it click in her head. “No fuckin’ way. You think it’s Barzal?”

“Ames, I don’t know, I don’t know! There are plenty of Mathews who play hockey, right? But maybe he doesn’t even play hockey after all. Kids aren’t great at choosing their career paths, ya know? I just never learned his last name. I need his age or... something to identify him with.”

“He’s… like, 21, I think.”

“Yeah?” You paused. Why was this all actually matching up? “Yeah. So ten years ago he would’ve been eleven.”

“Holy shit, hoooolllly shit.”

“But I’m sure there are plenty of Mathews who are 21 right now.”

“Girl, holy shit. Look up a picture of him right now. If you had a summer romance with Barzy, I need to know immediately.”

“Okay, it still wasn’t really a romance, but same.” You pulled out your phone and typed his name into the search bar. “I don’t even know if I’ll recognize him after ten years.” Immediately after you opened the images tab, the first thing you noticed about him was the hair. Dark and thick and kind of wavy and looking extra soft in a few pictures, it did remind you of your Mat- whose hair had been full of sand and salt water and kept drying softly as he ran around in the sunlight- but you still couldn’t be 100% positive. It was after you scrolled past all the on ice pictures where you couldn’t really see his face well behind the helmet and found a picture of him- unstaged and off the ice and genuinely smiling- that you felt a strange spark ignite inside of you. Sunshine. His smile felt like sunshine. Maybe. Just, maybe.

Scrolling through other photos, your eyes caught one in particular. You opened a close up of his face and zoomed in a tiny bit more. Those eyes, shining all pretty and green in the sunlight. You could never forget them- not after ten years, and not after a hundred. His eyes, his chin, even the size of his goddamn nostrils, all the tiny, stupid details in his face… was this actually him? “Biiiitch....” Amy leaned closer to you and bumped shoulders with you in acknowledgment.

“What? Do you recognize something?”

“Kinda, yeah. It’s so weird.”

“So you think it’s seriously him?”

“I don’t know. But the last picture of his smile, I’d recognize that smile anywhere and… this. His eyes- that eye color…. I remember thinking it’s so pretty… even his fucking nostrils, Amy!” The fact that you took note of his nostrils might have been funny at another time, but you were currently having a crisis as to whether or not you were once friends with fucking Mathew Barzal.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re kinda big…”

“I… I don’t want to say that I think it’s him, that might just be me being too hopeful. But...”

“Holy shit. You might have been Barzy’s friend at one point. You could reconnect with him, and we could hang out with the players!” You shot her a look, and she knew to calm down. “Sorry. Alright, whether or not it was him, I’m still gonna get you to talk with him tonight.” You hadn’t realized that you had basically arrived at the bar, and you felt your heart start pumping you full of nerves as she opened the door. “You have my word.”

The bar wasn't too crazy- there was music playing overhead and that weird hazy bar feeling lingered in the air. Immediately you could see that there was a celebratory group of of tall men, some standing at the bar talking with each other, others talking with girls- some shared wedding bands with the women they were talking to, their wives apparently. So you figured those were the players.

“I can’t believe it.” Amy was still in shock next to you; you were too, but you needed to pull it together. “You and Barzal…”

“Well, we don’t actually know yet.” You pulled her into you by the elbow. “But please please don’t mention that to them, I don’t need them to think I’m crazy before I even talk to them.” She nodded back, but before either of you could comprehend what was happening, somebody- obviously one of the hockey players- seemed to catch her eye as they came into view near the bar. “A player you like?”

“Anthony Beauvillier.” She pronounced his name with an obvious swoon and you laughed. Oh, so this was that favorite player that she kept talking about. “Tito. Yeah. He’s cool.” She nudged you, smirking. “Oh! And he’s besties with Mat! I bet I could get him for you.”

“You? Talking to them?” As much as Amy liked to talk and wanted to meet the players, you knew she wasn’t the type to just go out and throw herself into conversation with somebody, and you knew she easily got tongue-tied- that’s where the two of you were most similar. But maybe it was just the fact that she was trying to help you out that gave her the boost of confidence to begin chasing after him. “Hey, actually, maybe we shouldn’t bother them. I’m sure they’re tired of dealing with fans.”

“We won’t pester them or anything. I’m sure they’ll see we’re not like, crazy crazy fans. Anyway we have a mission.”

“A mission?”

“Operation… I don’t know, Operation Find Mat Barzal for (Y/N).”

“Wow. Creative.”

“I know.” She laughed and smiled at you reassuringly. “Come on, both of us need to learn to be more assertive, don’t you think? We’re not annoying them, just telling them we think they’re cool, and maybe getting a picture. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” There was nothing you could say before she was- to your horror- reaching out and tapping Anthony’s arm. You were sure you looked nervous as he turned to look at the two of you, and your friend started rambling with a big starstruck smile on her face. “Hi, uh yeah. You’re cool.” You weren’t only feeling embarrassed yourself, but also for her. “I’m a big fan!”

To your surprise- or maybe not, he seemed like a sweet guy- he smiled back at her, and you almost melted under kinda his blue eyes as he looked between the two of you. He thanked her as she complimented his performance tonight and motioned to the phone in her hand. “You want a picture?”

“Yes please!” You took her phone for her to snap a couple of pictures of the two of them, glad that this guy seemed so chill and friendly. After the picture was taken, Amy still didn’t let him leave, no, to your absolute horror, she motioned to you. “My friend here, (Y/N), tonight was the first game she’s ever been to.” You could feel your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, but couldn’t help but smile back up to him. Oh, he was kinda really cute...

“Oh yeah? Hope you enjoyed it.”

Oh. Oh, he was actually talking to you! “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t understand everything that was happening, I’m still learning, but.. it was still really fun!”

“Actually,” you felt Amy’s arm fall across your shoulders, and you looked over at her. God, what was she planning now? “(Y/N) happens to be a big fan of Barzy.”

“Oh God, Ames stop…”

“And I’m sure she’d like a picture with him. So if you could, I don’t know… point her in his direction, please? If he’s here? And if you think he’s got time for it?” You were in the middle of burying your red face in your hands in embarrassment when you heard him laugh goodheartedly.

“He wouldn’t mind. He likes talking to his fans.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure he’ll be especially happy to meet a new fan. He loves the praise.” All three of you laughed a bit, and you couldn’t believe that you were currently chatting with an NHL player. He looked behind his shoulder for a moment, before moving aside and motioning to the bar. “He’s over at the bar somewhere, by himself for the moment. Better hurry before someone else beats you to it.” There was a certain lilt in his voice, was… was he teasing you? You smiled- but it probably looked pretty nervous- and glanced over to Ames.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She winked at you and nudged you in the direction of the bar. “Go!”

You bit your lip to hold back the growing smile at the thought of getting to talk to him, whether or not he remembered you at all. You looked up at Tito with a quick “Thank you!” before snaking around him and finding your way to the bar.

It didn’t take you long to notice him- he had a recognizable face, and you’d recognize him anywhere after looking at pictures of him for the whole ten-minute walk from the rink to this bar. He was standing at the bar, drink in his hand, and scrolling through his phone, a lock of dark hair drooping onto his forehead. His skin looked so golden in this light, as if he was back under the sun on a hot summer day- and it gave him a striking resemblance to the boy you knew ten years ago. There was something so different about seeing him in person rather than as a photo on your phone- it sparked up a weird feeling inside of you. If this was really him, it had been ten years since you last saw him, and a lot changes in ten years of somebody’s life. It may have been a strange thought but, wow, puberty really hit him in all the right places. He looked… wow. His cheekbones, his jawline,…. Okay, maybe it was kinda thirsty- ogling him like this- but you couldn’t help it.

Not only had he obviously changed physically, but he might be a completely different person. He was a professional athlete now- why would he need you anymore? That much attention changes a person. He might not be as kind as he was back then at eleven years old, he might not want to be friends with you or reconnect.

That is, if this even is him.

You swallowed down all your nerves and slid up next to where he was standing.

“You really made it to the NHL, huh?” No shit he made it to the NHL, you thought. What the fuck kind of conversation starter is that? It was a painstakingly slow moment as he directed his full attention away from his phone and towards you, and could practically feel the shot of confidence and adrenaline draining from your body when his pretty, confused eyes met yours. Oh, they’re a lot more light brown than they are green, you noticed, and you wondered if maybe all your memories of his “dazzling, gleaming green eyes” were wrong. You realized how strange you must look to him- you were just a random girl, approaching a super successful, let alone attractive, professional athlete at a bar. He probably thought you were trying to get a drink off of him or get into his pants for the clout.

Maybe you were expecting him to look up and immediately recognize you after ten years and sweep you up into a hug like in the movies, but it certainly didn’t seem like that’s what was coming.

“Yeah…?"

He looked confused- his eyebrows furrowed up a bit as he looked you over, sizing you up or checking you out or just trying to figure out why this stranger was approaching him about his career choices. Suddenly, you found it difficult to hold eye contact. Of course he didn’t remember you. Who needs to remember their one-month-long friendship when they’re busy getting into the NHL? This was really starting to make you feel pathetic for holding onto the memory of your super short friendship for so long.

Well, you officially wanted the floor to open up and swallow you. Right now would be great. "Okay… that probably sounded really, really strange if you don't remember me. Or if it’s not even you. Umm, we hung out together in 2000 something…. 2008? The summer of '08?” You laughed awkwardly, trying desperately to lighten the mood. “We were, like ten, eleven?" He still said nothing, just watching you with a strange, unreadable look in his eyes. Oh god, you wanted lightning to strike you dead, NOW. Literally anything would be better than standing here waiting for him to say something, anything! Even if he just says 'Who the fuck are you?' It would be better than silence. The silence was humiliating. "Okay, I’m so sorry. I probably got this all wrong and look like a weirdo." Right as you started to back away to run to find Amy and get the hell out of here, he held out a hand.

“Wait, wait!" His eyebrows shot up as if he couldn’t believe something, his outstretched hand reaching back to run through his hair. "Holy shit. Is it… (Y/N)?" Your heart almost stopped right there, the moment he said your name, either that or it was beating so fucking fast you couldn't feel it. He said your name. Your name. He knows your name.

"Yeah.” You watched his face relax into a gleaming smile. Like sunshine. It’s him. You knew it now. “So I’m not crazy? It's… it’s actually you? Mat?"

"It's actually me." For the first time since you set foot in the bar, you felt yourself relax completely, and although you hadn’t had any alcohol, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Jesus, it was actually him. You crossed your arms on the bar and lay your forehead down on it. "Sorry, I just, it took me a second. I should have recognized you sooner.” You laughed a little bit into your arms at the sheer craziness of the situation. He still had that same warmth to him, the way he was always able to make you feel happy and safe, like when he distracted you on the beach while your parents were yelling inside or when he went too far trying to scare you with crabs and had to hug you and promise you he’d protect you from them.

“I can’t believe this.” You lifted your head to look back up at him, and he had a wide smile spreading across his face. “We actually ended up in the same city ten years later without even knowing each other’s last names.”

“Holy shit. Ten years? I feel old. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday.” Your heart soared at the idea that he still thinks of you- of the fun you two had together that summer. He took a sip from his drink, going quiet and just staring at his glass with a smile.

“You still think about it?”

“Sure, sometimes. I wonder how you’re doing, and where you ended up. I guess you ended up in New York.” He looked back up at you, eyes catching yours and gleaming all honey-hued golden brown and sending butterflies straight to your stomach. You could barely contain yourself, it didn’t matter that this was Mathew fucking Barzal you were talking to because to you he was still just your Mat, and that was even better. The sandy little boy with scraped knees. You couldn’t help but imagine how many people would kill to be in your position right now.

“I guess I just thought you would have forgotten about that summer, considering how successful you are now and stuff.”

He shook his head, smiling softer and reassuringly. “C’mon. I could never forget about that. It was my favorite summer to date.” He extended an arm and dropped it across your shoulder, pulling you in closer- no closer than two friends should be, but much closer than you ever thought you’d be to someone of his "social rank". It wasn’t any closer than you’d been in the past, but you were children back then. Now, you were young adults with hormones. He was a man. You would be crazy not to notice how warm and built he felt under his hoodie from obvious years of playing hockey, and there were dirty thoughts spinning around your head as soon as his large hand dropped to your arm and the dizzying scent of his cologne hit your nose. “You want a drink?”

You blushed and stuttered, shaking away any indecent thoughts. “Uh, I- I can’t. Yet.”

He seemed confused for a moment before laughing. “That’s right! You're a year younger than me, right? Aww, you’re still a baby. Can’t even drink yet.” He ruffled your hair gently, careful not to actually mess it up, and called the bartender over and asked for a glass of water, making sure to let him know that you weren’t old enough to drink yet. You could only laugh, remembering how much he loved to tease you back then. He obviously hasn’t changed in that department. “Ya know, you could’ve just DM'd me or something as soon as you found me. You didn’t need to dramatically approach me in a bar.”

“Well, I did kinda only find you tonight,”

His eyes went wide with a smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Listen...” You launched into your story as to how you came to realize that your long lost friend was NHL star Mathew Barzal, and how you didn't actually know who he was as a player. He actually listened intently, unlike any of the disappointing boyfriends you’d had in the past. Man, whatever girl he gets is gonna be lucky. “I wasn’t sure if it was you or not. I spent the entire walk here looking up pictures and trying to decide if I actually recognized you or if it was just my brain being hopeful.”

“Wow. I guess I’ve changed, huh?” He rubbed a hand across his face, still smiling that stupid, beautiful smile that made you all nervous, and your eyes followed, tracing over the familiarity of his features- from his eyes up to his hair and down to his chin, maybe lingering for a second too long on the way his lips looked so soft and tender right now, curled up at the corners into a little smirk.

“Not that much, actually.”

You hadn’t realized how intimate that moment seemed until he caught your gaze, smiling cheekily, and you were pretty sure he knew you were just checking him out. “Lucky for you, you got to skip past my awkward teenage years.” He lightened the mood, poking fun at himself like he knew how to do. Brushing the hazy hot feelings out of the air and blaming them on the rush of meeting your childhood friend after all these years, you reached for your water in order to cool the fire inside of you and the blush on your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure I would’ve loved to see that.”

You and Amy were over the fucking moon when you went home that night. You had exchanged Instagram handles and said your goodbyes to each of the men you had been talking with- she claimed to have been talking to Tito for the rest of the night and honestly, you’d believe anything at this point, after learning that your childhood romance- ahem, friendship- was with Mat Barzal. It took everything in you not to shriek like crazed fangirls. As soon as you got out of the bar, the realization finally hit you that you finally found Mat, and meanwhile, Amy was starstruck, having spent the night actually talking to NHL players and actually holding solid conversation.

“Holy shit please tell me everything! Right now!”

“Ames…” You could have told her what it was like to talk to him, disregarding anything in your past, the way he listened intently and made you feel like the only person in the world when his eyes were on you. You took her hands and looked into her eyes seriously, “Ames, we were right.” Okay, so much for not shrieking. Your friend threw her arms around you, jumping up and down for you. You couldn’t blame her, everything that happened tonight was crazy.

“You’re telling me that the kid you hung out with at ten years old has evolved into the one and only Mathew Barzal? Did he remember you?”

To be honest, it had taken everything in you not to try and drag him home with you or go home with him. He was intoxicating in all his warmth, the way his nose scrunched up, and his eyebrows arched when he smiled. The way he threw his head back when he laughed. The scent of his cologne had buzzed around your senses all night, clouding your judgment and making you want to say “fuck reconnecting as friends” and jump him right there. In fact, it still lingered around you after being pulled against his chest all night, and part of you wondered if it was the alcohol in his system, though not enough to make him drunk, that caused him to wrap his arm over your shoulder. If you had maybe harbored a tiny crush since your summer with him, it was heightened times 100 because of tonight.

You could tell that reconnecting with him- and eventually becoming friends again- was going to take a lot of self-control if you were gonna feel like this the whole time.

“Yeah. And he wants to catch up tomorrow. He said he’d DM me.” Amy was in the middle of shrieking in joy for you when, as if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the first thing you saw after opening it was a message.

barzal97: Get home safe :)

“Girl, he loves you!” You laughed and shook your head as she shook your shoulder and patted your back, “You snagged yourself a hockey player!”

After you left, Mat didn’t see any reason to stay out longer. He almost couldn’t believe it- had someone slipped something in his drink? Was this just a dream? But then he opened Instagram and scrolled through your Instagram momentarily after DMing you and stopped on a picture of you and your friends, it was clear- he’d found you. You’d found him, more like. After ten goddamn years. It felt like a movie. You still had the same vibe, he could feel it in him the moment you were beside him. What was it…? Familiarity. Warmth. Comfort. Nostalgia. Whatever it was, it was you. After taking a moment to reflect on everything that had just happened, he was quick to finish his drink and find his friend, wanting to head home and prepare for his little meetup tomorrow.

As he was heading out the door with Tito, Mat knew he needed to confide in somebody. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“Does it have something to do with that girl I sent over?”

“(Y/N)? You sent her over?”

“Yeah, I was talking with her friend. I noticed she didn’t come back after going to look for you.” Mat noticed the suggestive tone in his friend's voice and felt his face go pink at the thought of hiding away in a bathroom to make out- and maybe more- with you.

“No! Nothing like that. She was my friend when we were kids.” He had a serious look on his face, and Tito knew that Mat wasn’t kidding about this. “Really. We have a crazy story. We met ten years ago on vacation. We hung out for a month, and I haven’t heard from her since. I didn’t know her last name or anything, and she didn’t know mine, so it’s not like we could look for each other. But she found me.”

“Wow. She just said she was a fan.”

“Well, wouldn’t you think they were crazy if they told you that story.”

“It does sound like a movie.” He laughed a bit, patting Mat’s back. “So, what’s the deal with her now? Friend? Do you liiiike her? Do you like-like her?” The teasing tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“What are we, in middle school?” But he still shrugged, sighing. “I don’t know. We’re going out to catch up tomorrow.”

“Ooh.”

“Shut up.” He went silent for a moment, wondering over his question. Did he like you? He wasn’t sure. “Ya know, she’s with me in almost every photo from that summer. That’s how much we were together.”

“Well, if you guys hit it off, you should date. I don’t need a competitor for best friend.” It was a joke, Mat knew and smiled at it, but he honestly couldn’t shake the idea of dating you. No, no, he’s only feeling this way because he hasn’t seen you in a while. It’s nothing but a bunch of resurfacing memories.

Hopefully, anyway.

The two of you really did hit it off the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. You still got along just as well as you did when you were young, and maybe even better, now that you were adults and had more interesting things to talk about. He was funny, even funnier than he was as a child, and despite your original thought that the fame of being in the NHL must have changed him, he was actually kind of modest and shrugged and smiled with a pink flush on his face when you brought up his accomplishments. It was easy to be with him. He could talk and talk about his life and still keep you comfortable, inviting you to tell your own story, gushing over accomplishments that felt so small to you.

And that one catch-up date ended up being months and months more of friendship.

Friendship with Mat was one of the best things that ever happened to you. He was the ideal friend, he listened to you and kept an eye on you and pushed you out of your comfort zone when it was necessary. He loved hearing you talk about things you enjoyed and tried his best to find joy in your hobbies, even if he thought some were funny or boring. He was sweet, endearing, teasing. And it wasn’t long before he began bringing you out on casual outings with some of his personal friends, gushing and getting really into telling the story of how you were separated for ten years and reunited by maybe fate, maybe luck, who knew.

The only problem was that you wanted him to kiss you.

You wanted him to kiss you when you went out with him and Tito and Amy on Christmas, singing carols together and teasing him, asking him to sing louder because you loved the sound. You wanted him to kiss you on New Years, when you stood hand in hand in Times Square, shivering and smiling with red cheeks, but instead settled for a hug. You wanted him to kiss you after returning from his first All Star game in January, you wanted to congratulate him on being an All Star, because he spent so much time praising you and you wanted him to know he was just as amazing. You wanted him to kiss you when he was drunk on his 22nd birthday, all red-faced and giggly and dancing in the nightclub with a red solo cup in his hand and that stupid snapback on that made him look like a frat boy but suited him so well. He was hugging you to his side with one arm and, even like this, you were just praying that he would lay a messy, drunk kiss onto your cheek.

You just wanted his lips on yours. So, so bad.

But despite that, behind Amy, who was still holding onto the title of best friend, he was always the one you went to when you needed comfort or a companion or a distraction, or just to talk about certain things. Things like this.

A week after his birthday, seven months into your friendship, you showed up at his door without warning, slumping against the doorframe when he opened it. “I have a problem.”

“With showing up unannounced? Yeah, I know.” He was joking and smiling, but maybe you missed it with how stressed you were. When you didn’t respond, he must have noticed the tired, strained look on your face and his happy expression dropped. He let you into his apartment, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. It wasn’t an odd thing in your friendship, he was always a touchy guy, especially when you were down, and you always welcomed it. He pulled you over to sit at the island in his kitchen and sat across from you. “What’s wrong?”

“I got a voicemail from my parents today.” You were already pulling out your phone to play the voicemail for him. Ever since that one month on the beach eleven years ago now, you and your family had been going back every summer for a week, up until four years ago, when you suddenly had a summer job and couldn’t afford to take a week off. You missed the beach, sure, but you definitely didn’t miss the way your parents would always find a way to argue and fight. Now, they were calling you and asking if you could come along this year.

“I think I’m missing the problem here. What’s so bad about a beach trip?”

You sighed and lifted your head. “Well, I want to go, and I already got my boss’s okay to take that week off. I really miss the beach. But my family is just… so overwhelming sometimes. I could try to hang out alone the whole time, but I’ll go crazy before the week is over.” There was a pause as Mat leaned back in thought, considering his options. Was this crazy? Was he crazy for doing this? Definitely. But, fuck it, ya know?

“I can come with.”

You scoffed. "No way, I'm sure you have other plans."

"Not really. Not that week." He saw the look on your face, and he really didn’t want you to have to deal with your family all alone for a week. "Look, I'll pay for my share of the trip, and I won't bother anybody." You laughed. There's no way Mat could go a week without bothering anybody. He laughed along, glad to see you happy. "Seriously. If you need somebody, I'll be there."

And that was it. That was how you ended up on a beach trip with the one and only Mathew Barzal, eleven years after you first met..

The first few hours of the trip down were blurry. Your family, in true vacationer nature, decided that all of you, your parents, siblings, you and Mat, should carpool together. So, at 8:00 AM, you loaded into the car, your parents up front, obviously, your younger twin siblings behind them so they could be monitored, and you and Mat in the very back. This was definitely a bad idea, 100%, but you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that sparked up inside of you when you told your family you would be bringing a boy along. Or the feeling you got when you looked at Mat sitting next to you, looking worn out and sleepy after six hours of travel-rest stop-travel-gas stop, with four more hours of travel left and suggested he try to get some sleep. You slept through the rest of the day, only waking up for bathroom breaks and rest stops, until eventually, you woke up around six in the evening with your head on Mat’s shoulder and his body angled towards yours, snoring softly and looking ever so soft.

“Mat, Mat wake up.” You shook him gently, laughing at the way he was drooling a little bit. He blinked his pretty eyes open and looked around, a little dazed.

“Are we there?” His sleepy, mumbling voice was so cute.

“Technically, yeah. But we can’t get into the rental house until tomorrow morning. So we found a place to sleep.” He groaned, his eyes slipping shut in protest, and showed no sign of moving from his seat. “Come on, you’d rather sleep in a real bed than this car, right?”

Those words had him slipping out of the car, his eyes half shut and holding your hand loosely, dragging his feet the whole way as you led the way to your shared room. He looked so cute in this outfit, grumpy and soft in a tee shirt and shorts and his hair looking extra messy. There was nothing you wanted to do more than sleep, but one detail had you stopping in your tracks as you opened the door. Your parents had paid for three rooms- one for them, your siblings, and you and Mat- and of course, since your parents hated each other and apparently can’t stand to sleep in the same bed anymore, you and Mat got stuck in the room with one bed. Mat didn’t seem to care though, as he dropped his slides by the door and immediately collapsed in the bed, falling asleep almost immediately after mumbling for you.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get in...”

As you dropped down beside him in bed an appropriate distance from him and tried to ignore the sleeping beauty beside you, you began wondering if this whole trip was a bad idea. No, no way, you quickly pushed that thought away. This was Mat, your Mat, and you’re actually on the beach again with him. You fell asleep that night with a smile on your face, listening to the soft snores of the man beside you and trying to imagine what your week had in store for you.

Realistically, there's only one thing you can predict about this trip- it’s gonna take a lot of self-control.

#i feel like im really gonna be proud of this fic #smile like sunshine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl writing #mine #my post #op #fanfiction #imagine #fic

243 notes · View notes