Notes 1: I don't have anything against HansAnna if you're new to my writing. I don't hate any ships, just to be clear, I just like writing angst (look at my stories list for proof).
Notes 2: I don't believe I've ever read a HansAnna fic before but I felt like writing one. But, of course, in angst, because that's all I can write. Don't kill me, like I said, I don't hate any ship, I just like angst. I'm also a multi-shipper and hate ship wars.
Anyway, speaking of ships, I'm sure everyone agrees that the most logical ship is Elsa and Frozone from The Incredibles (this is a joke, Frozone's wife, Honey, would murder me). Jokes aside, I believe the 'safest' ship in the fandom that doesn't get shit is KristoffAnna as Hans is the villain who has attempted murder (twice?), Elsa and Anna are sisters, and Jack Frost is a dead boy whose spirit is like a few hundred years old. And I'm saying this because I've already had someone say JackElsa shouldn't be a thing when I stated I thought the ship was cute from all the fanart I've seen. Thank goodness it was a mature message though, very well written and good intentioned and kind. Thank you, babe.
But (and I'm not just saying this because I'm a law student), if you feel strongly about something to the point where the issue bothers you so much and you know it's a recognized issue within the law (like child marriage or an adult dating a child without the child gasping consent over it), take legal action against it. Bring it to court, fight for it in a movement, make a petition. BUT, don't put stress upon fanfic writers who can't do anything about it, because it's just a story. They're not getting paid to write these things and no one is taking it seriously.
Main point – ship whatever characters you want, fandom, I don't judge. Just don't come at me, these are fictional characters, they're not harming anyone unless you tell me you went to Disneyland and got physically attacked by staff members dressed as these characters. Then that's just unfortunate, you okay, love?
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narrowly missing tomorrow
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Anna chucks her backpack through the open shotgun window before yanking the car door open and sits in her favourite spot. It's basically her seat now, her throne, and she's ecstatic that her boyfriend is picking her up from school today, a great alternative to taking the crowded bus or walking.
"Hello, my Princess." Hans greets her, spoiling her with cutesy nicknames, charming as a prince.
"Hey," She replies back.
Anna smiles and leans in to give Hans a quick peck on the cheek before she puts her feet on the dashboard. She pretends to not notice the expression he makes when he realises Anna wasn't aiming for a kiss on the lips.
"How was your day?" She asks, genuinely curious. Being eighteen and having hundreds of doors open to her, opportunities begging to be snatched and used, Anna wants to know everything and everyone before sticking to a lifelong decision.
Hans grins back, tucking away the split-second expression he made then tells Anna exactly what she wants to hear.
"There's a house party this weekend," Hans says in which Anna hums back in response, she's fiddling with the aux cord. If she wasn't staring at her phone, she was sure she'd be busy staring at his handsome face. He adds, "You should come."
"Can I?" Anna asks, eyes now shining and looking his way.
"Of course," He replies.
He tells her he's prepping her for university life … in a way. Not through academic tips like note taking or schedule planning or which classes are beneficial but through socialising and parties and other things.
Hans and Anna's older sister, Elsa, were both students at the local U, something which motivated Anna to attend too. Anna only had one university she wanted to go to. She hadn't done any other research and didn't have any other university choices, something Elsa fretted over, but Anna had made up her mind. She just wanted to be with her two most favourite people in the world.
Anna looks over at Hans, with his wrist dragged across the steering wheel while his other hand rests on her knee. The moment is simple and bliss, and Anna thinks, Wow, I really love him.
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Just as promised, Hans brings her to a house party. Anna's not the type to shy away from alcohol. Neither is Hans.
But he drives her home anyway. It's dangerous, and she knows it, but something about it thrills her. Anna will admit, she's still childish, liking Y/A romances and bad boys.
On the way back, in the car, Anna gets the urge to stick her head out the window; let the wind caress her scalp and let her strawberry blonde hair fly. But she doesn't, that scene from Hereditary still sticks to her mind and, deep down, Anna fears that she would leave Elsa all alone in the world. They're already orphans. Anna knows her uncle, aunt and cousin Rapunzel can't look out for them forever.
When Anna is back, stumbling with the front door and her footing, she finds Elsa sitting in the living room couch with her arms crossed and a disapproving frown painted on her lips.
"He's irresponsible." Elsa says, voice straining.
And Anna can't find the words to argue back.
"He's supposed to be looking out for you. He's your boyfriend." Elsa continues, shaking her head. "Is he really twenty-one or is he still a child? Drunk driving, honestly. He should have called a cab for you! If he has the money to buy those stupid tight skinny jeans of his then he can spare a few dollars with a taxi ride."
Anna's face colours, as red as an apple and Hans's hair.
"I'm sorry." Is all Anna can say. Strange as just a minute ago, she was giggling like a mad man and now she feels like she's gotten caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "I'm really sorry."
Elsa doesn't say anything back, but Anna thinks, Elsa wants to say 'You should be'.
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Hans comes over again, by then Anna's aunt and uncle and cousin are used to Hans coming and going. But Elsa is still guarded, asking for details and warning Hans about the time he should get Anna back to the house.
No matter how Elsa is to Hans, he never waivers. Instead, he just smiles that charming smile of his and promises through perfect, white teeth. He's very good at demanding, coaxing the cold out of her. And he's very good at pushing on her buttons to push his luck.
.
.
.
Elsa had always been strictly 'polite' to Hans, but never friendly, if that makes sense. And one day while the two sisters are watching TV, Anna has to ask, the urge like that night in the car. It's not as dangerous as sticking her head out a moving car, but it's still something that's on thin ice.
"Do you not like Hans or something?" Anna asks, knowing it would hit a sensitive spot.
Elsa freezes, a guilty look on her face, eyes trained on the TV before she faces Anna.
"No." Elsa finally answers. "No, I don't."
"Why?" Anna asks but there's now a crack in her voice. She suddenly feels like such a brat, wanting to defend her boyfriend. But she doesn't want to make her sister uncomfortable either.
"It's just ... I just don't think he's right for you. Something about him ..." Elsa answers, blue eyes drifting back to look at the TV. Anywhere but at Anna. "I'm sorry, Anna."
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The car is parked in the parking lot of some fast food chain and, Hans and Anna are throwing fries at each other; play fighting like they're innocent and children again. Even though she's living in the moment, Anna knows she'll miss this, this sweet flash of puppy love once their relationship progresses like every couple, but she knows it won't miss her.
Anna manages to land fry on Hans's fiery red sideburn, in which he flips out a little. His fingers curl and uncurl around her wrist once he catches her, preventing her from doing anymore damage.
Her laughter subsides, taking in the seriousness of the situation. They stare at each other; her chest tightens and his lips twitch into a curved triumph kind of grin. Now that she thinks about it, Anna doesn't think Hans's smile reaches up to his pretty emerald eyes.
Elsa's words clings onto Anna's mind and the strawberry blonde suddenly wishes for this moment to stop. She wishes for Hans to just get it over with – kiss her on the mouth and set her free or break her out of her daydream and shatter her heart. Either one is fine, as long as she's not lost and confused. She hates being uncertain.
.
.
.
Where did the love go? Who's got any time for this?
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They're at another party again, someone's house – some friend or friend of a friend. Anna's had too much to drink and Hans has gone off some place. She thinks maybe to get her a glass of water or something. But once fifteen minutes passes, Anna gets off the couch all woozily and searches for her boyfriend.
Then she sees it; Hans and Elsa fighting in public.
Elsa? Why are you here? Anna thinks, mind whirling, but doesn't get an answer.
Hans and Elsa are shouting and even from afar, Anna can hear it. Though her foggy brain can only register one word – her name. Just the word 'Anna' uttered over and over and over again until Hans is all up in Elsa's face.
Stop. Anna thinks, walking closer, bracing against the growing crowd.
But they don't stop. No. Because Hans reaches over and shoves Elsa – hard. To Anna, it felt like a punch in the gut. But, it was more closely like her heart crumbling in her chest as dread takes over her, fearing her older sister would stumble back and crack her head on the ground.
Thankfully, Elsa doesn't fall. Being sober, Elsa finds balance and pushes Hans away, yelling at him even more. She shouts, "Are you crazy?!"
Hans says something back, something Anna doesn't catch, which results in Elsa raising her hand and striking a strong slap across his cheek before looking for a familiar face in the sea of drunk people.
"Elsa …" Anna whimpers, sounding like a scared little girl at what she's just witnessed.
Anna knows damn well that Elsa would never hear such a soft plead, a tiny voice. But like magic, Elsa spots the person whom she was looking for, the blonde marches over to Anna, her dearest sister.
And suddenly, Elsa is standing in front of Anna, red in the face from anger, hand outstretched for Anna to grab. But Anna could tell by the shakiness of Elsa's hand that the blonde is shocked too and just wanted to go home.
Elsa's blue eyes darts between Anna and Hans, the expression said, 'Choose. You choose whose side you want to be on.'
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"He never loved you. He just wanted your inheritance." Elsa says the next morning between cups of warm tea.
All these facts thrown in Anna's freckled face once she's sobered up and done crying. The proof is written in documents and screenshots of texts from third parties. Being closer in proximity to Hans, Elsa had dug and exposed Hans from conversations he's spilled to students while he was drunk.
"How long have you known?" Anna asks. No matter what Elsa says next, she would not cry. There are no more tears to shed.
"Too long. I've lost count." Elsa admits.
Elsa wants Anna to realise what Hans is – he isn't the man for Anna. At this point, he was barely a man. Who the hell does that? Who lies about love?
The realisation makes her want to hurl. It honestly makes her wants to double over and hurl every bad thing in her body – every small white lie, every big fat lie, every overlook, every blind following, every carefully sweet nothing.
"What did I do wrong?" Anna asks, feeling her throat tighten. This isn't just about love now. She tells herself she should have known her stubbornness and childish personality would get to her. Liking a person she barely knows, choosing only one university as her choice. As if she wants to go there now.
"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong." Elsa says, holding her breathe the same way she holds Anna's hands for emotional support.
Anna looks at Elsa and wants her older sister to say more. Anna believes there is no way that she's all good, no flaws, perfect. If she was, she wouldn't be in this mess.
"But, maybe," Elsa says, hands cold but supportive. "Maybe you could have done things a little better?"
Anna's eyes glazes over the documents and thinks, she finally understands what Shakespeare meant when he said, 'Hell is empty and all the devils are here.'
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He grabs her meanly by the hips and says, "I wanted to marry you." But there is no sweetness behind his tone, no love. "I was going to marry you. I bought the ring, I was going to propose."
She sends him one look and knew that he was crumbling.
"Keep it." She tells him, shoving his hands away from her. "You keep the ring. I don't need it. I won't accept it."
His green eyes flutter in shock – a true emotion, she notes. Something sincere for the first time in forever. But, it's not a lost cause, he would have outgrown her anyway.
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end
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Notes 3
I've wanted to use this title for so long
– 7 September 2018