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hivemuthur · 22 days ago

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What was that? - Ch. 4.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 3,7K

tag: #what was that

summary: They have their first fight :')

author’s note: Beta reader: @rennethen

Cross-posted on AO3

—

The lab was unusually quiet for a Thursday afternoon, save for the steady hum of the machines and the rustle of papers as Renly flipped through a research file. Bent over the table, her mind was entirely absorbed in the task at hand when she sensed a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A presence at the door—a student, no older than twenty, with a shy but oddly confident grin.

Renly didn’t notice him immediately, her focus locked on her work, but the soft clearing of his throat drew her attention.

"Excuse me, Professor Huxley, I—" the young man began, his tone polite but with a faint attempt at charm.

Renly looked up, startled for only a moment before recovering with a polite smile. She recognized him—Ezra, a first-year student. Cute, a little too bold with some of the staff, though often forgiven because of his evident promise.

"Ezra," she greeted with a nod, keeping her tone professional. "I’m not a professor yet,” she smiled at him politely. “But what can I do for you?"

Ezra stepped closer, a little too close, his gaze lingering on her face as if memorizing every detail. "I was hoping you could help me with a project I’m working on," he said, his voice dipping just slightly. "Maybe after hours? I could really use your expertise."

Renly raised an eyebrow, holding back the instinct to step away. "I’m afraid I’m busy, but you can get started on your own. You know where the resources are," she replied evenly, the words polite but firm. She wasn’t one to let professionalism slide, especially with students. The last thing she needed was whispers of impropriety—not after John, and especially not with Viktor, well… unapproachable.

Ezra, however, didn’t take the hint. His eyes flickered down, lingering a beat too long before returning to hers, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That’s a shame," he said smoothly. "I really value your insight. More than anyone else on the staff."

Renly held back a sigh. His boldness might have been admirable under different circumstances, but now it was just exhausting. Before she could form a response, Viktor’s voice sliced through the room with chilling precision.

"She’s not interested."

Renly turned, startled to see Viktor standing in the doorway, a stack of papers in hand. He didn’t spare Ezra so much as a glance, his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance, his tone cold enough to send the student reeling.

Ezra’s smirk faltered as he stumbled over his response. "Right. Well… sorry to bother you, prof... Miss Huxley." He cleared his throat, his confidence deflating as he turned on his heel and all but fled from the lab.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was as sharp as Viktor’s words had been.

Renly blinked, caught between surprise and something close to amusement. "What was that?" she asked, her voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Viktor had already moved toward his desk, setting the papers down with a controlled precision. He didn’t look at her as he muttered, "The boy’s an idiot. Driven by... stardom."

Renly crossed her arms, leaning against the table. "You’re not usually so… blunt."

Viktor adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable. "It was obvious."

"Obvious?" Renly tilted her head, her brow arching. "Obvious that he was flirting with me? I thought that was normal. Students try to impress their instructors all the time."

His lip curled faintly, the closest he came to a frown. "Normal? Perhaps. But pointless."

"Pointless?" she echoed, caught off guard by his sharpness.

Viktor’s gaze flicked up briefly, but he didn’t answer right away. His fingers busied themselves with the settings of a machine, though his movements were a fraction too deliberate.

Renly studied him, her amusement giving way to intrigue. "Why, does it bother you?" she asked, her voice softening.

"It doesn’t," Viktor said too quickly, the edge in his tone betraying the lie. "It’s simply unprofessional."

"Unprofessional," she repeated, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Right. So, what was all that about ‘she’s not interested,’ then? That didn’t sound so indifferent."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, Renly thought he might snap back. Instead, he turned his attention back to the machine, his shoulders tense.

"Fine," she said gently, relenting. "But next time, just let me handle it."

Viktor’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his silence stretched on longer than she expected. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant.

"I wasn’t… trying to intervene."

Renly blinked. "Could’ve fooled me," she teased, though there was no malice in her tone.

He finally looked up, his expression unreadable but his eyes softer now, as if the tension had ebbed. "Perhaps I was," he admitted, so quietly she barely heard it.

Renly’s smile faded, replaced by something gentler. "Thank you," she said softly.

Viktor gave a faint nod, his attention drifting back to his work. But the way his fingers moved, slower and more deliberate, suggested he was less absorbed in the task than he appeared to be.

“Are you going to chase away every man that approaches me from now on, or only those you don’t like?” Renly tried to test Viktor a little more.

“That’s a… difficult question. And it would be a futile practise, as the number of men I like is very low.”

Renly’s ego was tickled enough by her young admirer, so she decided she is ready to be humbled by Viktor. She folded her arms, leaning back slightly, her tone half-teasing. "Alright, Viktor. Let’s start with an easy question then. What drives a man like you��curiosity or conviction?"

The edge of Viktor’s lips curled upward in a near-smile, though his gaze stayed thoughtful. "An easy question, you say? You begin with a false dichotomy, expecting me to commit to one truth while dismissing the other. Is it not possible to be convicted by curiosity itself?"

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as though examining him under a microscope. "So, conviction born of curiosity. That's convenient. But where does it stop, hm? At what point does pursuit cross the line into obsession?"

"Obsession, you think?" Viktor countered, his tone gaining a playful sharpness. "Perhaps it is simply dedication mistaken for obsession by those with lesser stamina for inquiry." He paused, his gaze meeting hers with quiet intensity. "I wonder, Renly, how would you define the difference? Or would you prefer to leave such questions unanswered, for fear of what they might reveal?"

Renly’s laugh came quick and light, though her eyes flickered with thought. "That sounds like something someone on the edge of obsession would say."

"Then you would know me better than I thought," Viktor replied, the barest flicker of amusement touching his words. "But tell me, what edges do you tread on in your work? Or are you content to stay safely within the boundaries?"

She leaned forward slightly, her smile equal parts challenge and intrigue. "Boundaries are subjective. I'd argue it depends on who’s watching—and whether they understand the lines in the first place. You, of all people, should appreciate that."

For a moment, Viktor said nothing, simply studying her. Something in her expression—the sharpness of her wit, the unflinching confidence—stirred an uninvited flicker of admiration. He cleared his throat, deciding to ground himself in the debate. "Then we are both trespassers, by your definition. Or would you deny me that camaraderie?"

Renly's grin widened, and she tilted her head. "You? A trespasser? Never. But if you’re offering camaraderie, who am I to refuse?"

The words hung between them, the air alive with the friction of intellect and something unspoken beneath it. Neither looked away, each silently daring the other to make the next move.

Renly broke the gaze first, though it felt more like a retreat to gather ammunition than a concession. Her fingers traced the edge of the workbench idly, an outlet for the quiet energy buzzing between them. "Camaraderie only works when both parties trust each other, you know. Do you trust me, Viktor?"

Viktor's brow lifted ever so slightly; his expression unreadable. "Trust is a peculiar thing, isn't it? It is granted freely to those who least deserve it and withheld from those who do."

"Sounds like a very Viktor way of saying 'no,'" Renly quipped, though her voice had a softer edge to it now.

"Perhaps," he allowed, his tone carefully measured. "But consider—trust is not the foundation of progress. Scepticism is. It sharpens the mind, ensures the work holds under scrutiny."

"So you're saying progress is worth more than trust?" She arched a brow, daring him to commit to his own argument.

Viktor hesitated, his fingers tapping the head of his cane in thought. His inner voice chimed in, slightly annoyed at the vulnerability her question exposed. She’s clever, sharper than most—but that sharpness is double-edged. Finally, he answered, "I am saying they are not mutually exclusive. But trust without merit is a dangerous luxury. Wouldn't you agree?"

Renly leaned back again, her arms crossing, and her lips quirked upward as though savouring her next move. "I might, if I hadn't spent all this time proving myself to you. Are you saying all that effort was wasted?"

The question struck deeper than he expected, though her tone was light. He realized, uncomfortably, that he did trust her in ways he rarely trusted anyone. Not entirely, not yet—but enough to let her slip past certain defences he usually kept up. That thought alone made him wary. "I suspect you are very aware of your abilities, Renly. One might even call you... persuasive."

Her laugh was immediate, bright and genuine. "That's the most backhanded compliment I think I've ever received. I’ll take it.",

"You should," Viktor replied dryly, though there was a faint glint in his eye. "After all, you seem to thrive on recognition."

"Who doesn’t?" she shot back. "Even you, with your grand speeches about scepticism, you can't tell me you don't enjoy hearing Jayce talk you up to anyone who’ll listen."

His lips twitched, but he didn’t confirm or deny. Instead, he looked at her, truly looked, as if trying to find the angle she wasn’t showing. Her confidence was real, but so was the curiosity burning beneath it, matching his own in intensity if not in focus.

"I think," he said slowly, deliberately, "you are more ambitious than you let on."

"And I think you're deflecting," she shot back, smirking.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps I am... curious."

The echo of his earlier words lingered in the air between them, this time carrying an undercurrent of something neither dared name. Renly tilted her head, her smirk softening into a quieter smile.

"Then it seems," she said, her voice quieter now, "we both have a lot to learn about each other."

Viktor inclined his head slightly, his gaze steady. "A mutual experiment, then. I imagine it will be... enlightening."

Renly's laugh was softer this time, and she shook her head as she turned back to her work. But her heart, traitorous thing that it was, drummed a little faster in her chest. Whether it was from his words or the way he watched her, she wasn't sure. She decided not to think too much about it. For now.

***

The acrid smell of burnt chemicals filled the lab as Renly muttered a curse under her breath, waving away the thin plume of smoke rising from her workstation. The concoction in the flask had thickened far too quickly, bubbling into a viscous, tar-like mess.

"Wrong proportions," Viktor observed, his voice calm as he approached. Despite the tension that had hung between them for days, he leaned over her shoulder with no hesitation, studying the failed experiment with practiced ease.

"Thanks for the insight," Renly shot back, trying to keep the bite out of her tone.

Instead of rising to it, Viktor merely smiled faintly. "Viscosity," he teased, echoing an earlier joke that had become an inside reference between them. "I told you. Proper fluid dynamics are crucial."

She glanced at him, momentarily disarmed by the faint amusement in his eyes. "Alright, professor. Where did you learn so much about chemistry anyway? I thought you were more gears and circuits."

Viktor straightened, his expression turning thoughtful. "There was a man," he began, his voice measured, as though weighing how much to say. "A tutor of sorts. Back when I lived in Zaun."

Her curiosity piqued, she set the ruined experiment aside. "What kind of tutor?"

"A chemist. An inventor. You yourself have called him an ‘evil wizard’," Viktor said, a faint smile touching his lips. "His name was Singed. He… taught me much. He kept my mind alive when my body could not follow."

Renly stiffened at the name. Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face before it gave way to something sharper—disdain. "Singed," she repeated, her tone flattening. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her eyes narrowed, her gaze distant as if recalling stories she wished she could forget. "The madman who experimented on everything he could fathom? That Singed?"

Viktor’s faint smile froze, then faded completely. The familiar pang of defensiveness flared in his chest, like a shield hastily raised to deflect an oncoming blow.

"He was more than that," Viktor said, his voice quieter now, but firm.

Renly’s expression hardened further, her disbelief etched into the set of her jaw and the tight line of her mouth. "More than that?" she echoed, her voice rising slightly, incredulous. "Viktor, he’s a monster. He—"

"Stop." The sharpness in Viktor's voice cut her off. She blinked, startled by the sudden steel in his gaze.

"I know what he has done," Viktor continued, his tone low and clipped. "I am not blind to his actions. But you do not understand what he was to me. He was the only one who saw potential in a crippled boy who could barely walk across the room. The only one who taught me to think, to question, to create."

Renly hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. "I didn’t mean to—"

"You did," Viktor interrupted, his grip tightening on his cane. "It is easy to condemn when you have never been desperate. When you have never had to take scraps of kindness from people you might despise, because no one else would bother."

Her stomach twisted with guilt, and she opened her mouth to argue—but what could she say? He was right. For all her hardships, she had never been utterly alone. She had grown up healthy, with parents who cared for her, in a community that taught her to read and write. She had lost much, but Viktor had started with nothing.

"You think I admired him because I approved of his methods?" Viktor asked, his voice softer now but no less intense. "I admired him because he gave me the tools to escape the Undercity. To stand here, today, as your equal."

The words struck her like a blow. "Viktor," she said quietly, regret threading through her tone. "I wasn’t trying to belittle you, or your choices. I just—"

"You spoke without thinking," he finished for her. His tone was not unkind, but there was a weariness to it that stung more than anger. "It is fine, Renly. I hold no resentment."

But the way he turned back to his workstation, his shoulders taut, told her otherwise.

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. "It’s not fine," she said, almost to herself.

Viktor didn’t look at her. "Let us not dwell on it."

But the words felt hollow, even to him. His grip on the edge of the workbench tightened, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to suppress the knot twisting in his chest. Why did her words cut so deeply? He had always known the world’s judgment of Singed—of Zaun, of him—but hearing it from Renly stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Her condemnation echoed in his mind, louder than it had any right to. Monster. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his expression to remain neutral, but the resentment stirred beneath the surface. How easy it was for her to dismiss, to condemn from a place of safety—of relative privilege.

You do not know what it is like to have no choices, he thought bitterly. To rip the opportunities out from wherever you can find them, even if it comes from a broken hand.

And yet, a part of him recoiled at the anger surging within him, ashamed of how quickly it had come. This was Renly. She hadn’t meant to hurt him—he knew that. But knowing didn’t dull the sting. It only made him feel more foolish for letting her words affect him so deeply.

He inhaled slowly, forcing the air into his lungs as he tried to steady himself. “It does not matter,” he murmured, as much to himself as to her. But it did matter, and she had seen the way his shoulders tensed, the flicker of something raw in his usually composed expression.

The finality in his voice left no room for argument. Renly bit her lip, frustration bubbling beneath her guilt. He was letting her off the hook, but the unspoken tension between them remained, a chasm that she didn’t know how to bridge.

The lab fell silent again, but this time the quiet was heavy, uncomfortable. Renly glanced at Viktor, his face unreadable as he worked, and she wondered how much of himself he kept hidden from her—and why she had never noticed before. She turned the radio on, as quietly as the dial would allow, and started humming in the hope of making herself feel slightly less small.

***

Renly sat on the edge of her bed, running her fingers through her hair, trying to shake the tension from her shoulders. This day was hard.

She reached for her bag, intending to grab a notebook, but as she moved it, a crumpled piece of paper fell out. She picked it up, her heart sinking as she unfolded it. The words VISCOCITY!!! were scribbled in Viktor’s familiar handwriting, sharp and urgent.

Her fingers lingered on the page, and for a brief moment, she closed her eyes, her mind flashing back to their earlier argument. How could I have said that? she thought, guilt gnawing at her. She could almost hear Viktor’s voice, the tension in his words when he’d defended Singed. She never meant to hurt him, but the words had come out before she could think, and now, as she held his note, she realized just how little she knew about his past.

Viktor stood in his cramped apartment, absentmindedly turning the gears of a mechanical ship he’d built as a child. The one that lured him down Signed’s cave. An evil wizard.

He stared at the small ship, its intricate design almost mocking him. Singed loved this, Viktor thought. A sharp pang of anger swept through him. Renly’s condemnation echoed in his mind. How dare she judge him; how dare she think she understood what it was like to be trapped with no one to turn to?

Viktor’s hand clenched around the ship’s hull. What was it that Renly had said? “The madman who experimented on everything he could fathom? That Singed?” Her words cut through him like knives, pulling him into a memory that was better left forgotten. Same day they talked about trust.

He wondered, for a fleeting moment, what it would’ve been like if he and Renly had met as children. Would they have gotten along? Would she have condemned him then too, or would she have seen the same potential in him that Singed had?

He looked down at the mechanical ship, the twisting gears a perfect reflection of his own life—complex, unfinished, and always shifting. Would they ever truly understand each other? Or would he always be locked in a cycle of missteps, of words unsaid, and of pieces of his past that could never be erased?

The viscosity note still clutched in her fingers; Renly tossed it back into her bag with a sigh. She stood up and walked to the window, staring out into the dimly lit streets of Piltover. She could hear the muffled hum of the city outside, but all she could think about was Viktor. How could I have been so careless? she thought, watching a pair of figures in the distance, their silhouettes barely visible in the haze.

She wondered what he was doing right now, if he was thinking about her, or if he had already moved on. He had so many layers, so many walls, and just when she thought she was close to understanding him, he pulled away again. Debatable before, in this moment absolutely certain—Viktor definitely didn’t trust her.

Still, she couldn't shake the pull she felt when he was around. The tension, the way his presence seemed to seep into every part of her, had been growing for weeks. And now, despite their argument, she wanted to reach out, to apologize, to explain that she hadn’t meant to hurt him. But how could she when she didn’t even understand him?

Viktor placed the mechanical ship down on the table, the soft click of the metal pieces coming together echoing in the stillness of the room. His mind drifted again to Renly, and the thought of her softened his harsh thoughts. She doesn’t understand, he admitted to himself, his chest tightening. Maybe I don’t need her to.

He couldn’t deny that her words had hurt, but he also understood the instinct behind them—she was trying to protect herself, trying to understand him. It’s not her fault, he thought, his hand hovering over the ship again. It’s mine. I’ve never made it easy for her.

He let out a slow breath. Maybe they would get along as children, Viktor mused. But that was a different time, and he was a different person now. The weight of his decisions, his past, hung heavily on him. He had grown, he had learned, but some parts of him would always be chained to that place, to those choices.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Maybe she’ll understand one day, he thought. But for now, the silence between them was all that remained, and it was maddening.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #what was that

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oceantornadoo · 1 year ago

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not a good student

ta!simon riley, curvy reader implied (tw: age gap but he's still in college so it's not weird, slight exhibitionist)

*wrote this for my bestie with a very sus ta*

you were incredibly stressed for your upcoming stats midterm. the class just did not make sense, and it didn't help you were pretty sure your hot ta hated you. he was always staring at you with an annoyed look, like he couldn't be bothered to answer your stupid questions. even so, grades come first, so you had finally gotten the courage to ask if he could spend some extra time tutoring you in the nights before the test.

that's how you got here, the top floor of your university's auditorium, studying at a table overlooking the quad. your ta was correcting your work next to you for the thousandth time. it was two hours in, and you were starting to go delirious.

"i really appreciate you doing this, simon. i'm sure you had better things to do tonight." he answered you with a grunt, eyes locked onto your work as he furiously corrected with a red pen. "'s ok. nothin' much goin' on anyways." he replied after a minute, finally out of his trance. you locked eyes and gave him a small grin to show your gratitude. he stared back, like he always did. you started on the next problem, eagerly trying to prove that you could do it.

suddenly, a warm hand covered your own, scars scratching your soft skin. "'s not 5, 's 10." he murmured, his gravelly voice making you shift in your seat. you nodded, not sure you could trust your voice to not squeak. you continued like that, his hand on top of yours, working through the problems together. his face hovered over your shoulder, inhaling your scent as you worked.

ever so slowly, he ran his nose up your neck, making you shiver. "look at you. got that one right all on your own." you gasped as his other hand found the base of your neck, massaging away the built-up tension. "y'know, i thought you hated me." you whispered, a small secret lost into the darkness of the night. "why'dya think that?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "you're always staring at me like you want to kill me." he rewarded you with a low laugh as wetness pooled between your thighs. "was jus' confused how the prettiest girl in the room couldn't do stats." you laughed, a short sound of surprise. "that's mean!" you turned around, shoving his shoulder. he caught your wrist at lightning speed, large hand dwarfing yours. simon's eyes locked on yours as he raised your wrist to his mouth, giving it a small kiss. gaining confidence, you brushed your thumb over his lip, returning the intense eye contact. you drew his face to yours cautiously, searching his eyes for any negative signs. he gazed back lazily, waiting for you to make the first move. finally, you put your lips to his in a soft kiss.

the kiss triggered a switch in simon. he instantly scooped you up and deposited you onto the table, hands greedily gripping at your thighs. he deepened the kiss, devouring you with his lips as his hands searched for something. they roamed your body eagerly, tracing over your sweatshirt and sweatpants with a fervor. finally, his fingers slipped under your sweatshirt, familiarizing himself with the warmth of your skin. he waited until you nodded against his lips, and then began his exploration upwards, tugging your sweatshirt off.

"si, someone could see." you nodded at the window that overlooked the quad. "s' nighttime." he paused. "can i make you feel good?" he drew back, those eyes always watching. "yes." you answered breathlessly, hands exploring his torso and tugging off his shirt. your fingers traced the tattoos and scars of his body, even more turned on by the second. he tugged off your sweatshirt, and in a blink, his mouth was on your breast. he sucked slowly, teeth scraping slightly in a way that made you wet without pain. his left hand rolled your other nipple between his fingers as his right hand trailed down the pudge of your stomach to the line of your underwear. "yeah?" he asked against the shell of your ear, voice deeper than normal as he moved his mouth off your breast. "yeah." you exhaled, pushing your hips into his hand in a search for friction. "want you so bad." he murmured, mouth focused on your neck. his palm pressed against the outside of your clit as your hips rolled against it. you whined and he laughed, drunk on the sound of your moans.

"gonna come just like that?" you nodded furiously. your tits were aching, the stimulation from his hand and mouth leaving you right at the edge. he moved his hand under your underwear, a finger dipping into your aching hole as he pressed against your clit. "right there, 'm there." you were a mess, glistening under him as you chased your orgasm. "such a good girl for me. takin' me so well. wanna see you like that 'round my cock." your orgasm hit at the filth of his words, brain clouded with images of getting fucked by your older ta. he grinned against your neck as he grinded his hand into you, wringing you of your orgasm. you collapsed into his neck, the reality of the situation hitting you hard.

"'f you wanted extra credit that bad, you could have asked." he said, giving you a small kiss on the neck. you laughed, legs wrapping around his torso as your arms wrapped around his neck, reveling in the warmth of simon's embrace.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #agegap #simon is always gonna have scars idc what au we in #ghost x reader

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paintbrushnebula · 8 months ago

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Random Spider-Verse Headcanons for funnsicles?? OKAY

✨ 🪩 🏄

(emojis are funnee)

When Gwen found out she was assigned to visit E-1610 to catch the Spot, in the days leading up to the mission, she would go up to Miguel with a list of prepared phrases and sentences to ask him how to say them in Spanish. Her excuse was that they were quips for her to say in an upcoming fight with a Rhino variant that spoke Spanish. Miguel had no idea who Gwen was actually planning on saying them to, but he was pretty sure it wasn't to a villain, since they were all for seemingly friendly conversation. But he complied and taught her the phrases in Spanish. When she went to 1610 as seen in ATSV, Gwen never ended up saying any to Miles because was too embarrassed or scared that she'd get the pronunciation wrong. She left 1610 regretting not using them.

Both Miles 1610 and Miles 42 are very good cooks. They learned from their moms because it was a fun bonding activity to talk about their day and open up about their feelings. They haven't done much cooking with mom since they were 13; that was when 1610 was bitten and 42 began training to be the Prowler. Both Mileses are good, but 42 is the better cook because he usually tries to help his mom by making dinner when Rio has a long night shift.

Sometimes Peni will just walk up to Gwen and stretch her arms out, to signal that she wants Gwen to deadlift carry her by her pits like she's a cat. When Gwen does it, Peni just lets her head hang back and her body go limp like she's dead or smth. Gwen just holds her out like that and goes about her day like normal for half an hour.

Gwen ends up moving out at 18. She rents an apartment in SoHo, Manhattan along with Glory and Betty as her roommates. Gwen and Betty are absolute WILD CRATS when they have the house to themselves. Betty is the instigator and Gwen just shrugs and decides to be complicit in her shenanigans. I'm talking All-Star playing at full blast on the speakers, Betty pulling out the Guitar Hero 10 minutes in, and then they switch ALL the furniture and wallpapers and belongings of each other's rooms around just to mess with Glory. So it's like, the interior design of the room is identical to what it was before, but it's now in an entirely different room of the apartment. What's worse is they'll try to gaslight Glory into thinking that their rooms were always like that. It never works obviously, but Glory is that mature mom friend who just puts up with her friends' antics. So Glory just settles for that being her room now. But then Gwen and Betty do the switch-around AGAIN only once Glory is finally used to her new room. The whole experience is loads of fun but like...dude. Glory can't leave them alone for 2 hours. They all love when E Jay comes over, sure, but Em Jay has a habit of visiting unannounced to present day plans or activities without taking their schedules into account. (I haven't read the Spider-Gwen comics in full so this headcanon is just what I interpret from Spiderverse).

Miles somehow thinks he's 6 feet tall. He doesn't have a specific number, just that he's at least over 6 ft. This is coming from how he drew himself after his growth spurt in ATSV's opening to be almost as tall as Peter B and a head taller than Gwen which is clearly not the case XD. So he basically assumes that everyone else he knows is just really really tall, because all the adults as well as Hobie are like a head taller than him at LEAST.

Gwen pirates/uses emulators for all her video games

there's this thing that keeps happening where whenever someone unfamiliar with the Spider-Band learns that Gwen is dating someone within the group, they never guess that it's Miles. They assume it's Hobie first, then Pav, then they'll just keep guessing everyone. They will think it's Spider-Ham before they think it's Miles. It's not that they think lowly of Miles or anything. It's just that no one ever thinks that he'd be Gwen's type because well, he's just so...*gestures to all of Miles* normal. Like people just assume that Gwen would date someone equally as wild and out-of-this-world as her, like...well, everyone else in the Spider-band. Of course, no one realizes that Miles' normalcy relative to everyone else in Gwen's life is partly why he's Gwen's type.

Back in her dimension, Gwen did this thing where she'd go on long drawling walks through suburban neighborhoods at dusk, staring at the populated houses and the golden windows lit warmly by the life happening inside. Sometimes she'd say aloud to herself, "that'd be nice."

Jess gifts Gwen her motorcycle for her 18th birthday.

Gwen has a green thumb. Miles gifts Gwen plants and they'll come up with names for them together. They take naming their plants very seriously.

One of Hobie's favorite couple nicknames for Miles and Gwen is Bonnie and Clyde, respectively.

Gwen had a BIG Y/N phase when she was a preteen. She had long since left it behind, but In between the events of ITSV and ATSV, while George was out on a late night shift, Gwen for whatever reason followed a strong sudden urge and wrote a new Y/N in one sitting. She immediately deleted it when she was done before George came home, but what she hadn't realized was that she wrote it in his account instead of hers. One day George was clearing out his Recently Deleted, he noticed that draft that he knew wasn't his. He opened it, and what he read was literally just the plot of Baby Driver with Gwen inserted as the main character. He was completely lost on that street artist character Gwen had replaced the waitress with until he met Miles.

Betty is obsessed with legos. That's it.

There's also this running gag where someone will show up with a very specific problem or be in need of something that they highly doubt anyone there can help with. Betty will be in the corner and just chirp that she possesses the exact skill to solve the problem, but she'll go completely unnoticed every time. And like it's not that people are being condescending to her or mean, everyone's just. completely oblivious to the fact that Betty's a polymath

Betty keeps a collection of fortune cookie papers. Every morning when she wakes up, she chooses a different one from the collection and keeps it in her left shoe.

EDIT: that last Betty one is cringe idk what was I doing I'm sorry

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theheathenousfish · 5 months ago

Text

A continuation of professor andreil. I will not apologize.

It’s the weekend. Casey and 3 of his classmates are at a restaurant celebrating the end of midterms ( which they did pretty well on, if they do say so themselves)

They were looking at the menus when Owen noticed their professor walk through the door with a red haired woman on his arm

“Hey, is that professor minyard?” Owen asked the table “and is that his wife? Didn’t he kiss professor Josten like, last month?”

Casey swirled around to look at the couple, who were walking towards the table the dean and his wife are sitting at.

“ about damn time you bring her. Jesus kid you’ve been married 10 years” the dean, wymack, grumbles.

“Oh my god!” AJ gasps “he wasn’t lying when he said prof josten wasn’t his boyfriend ! He’s the side piece!”

A few minutes later professors day, Boyd-wilds , walker-Reynolds, and Josten walk in and to the table.

“ hey Matt, how are the kids?” Prof josten asks

“ Neil! My man! Teenagers are so hard. Cody and Marlo have discovered my college photos and are giving me shit for how my hair looked”

Just then, a second minyard enters and sits down? It’s Avery’s turn to say something “I’m sorry, what? He has a twin?” Therefore she does.

Professor day scowls and says “ Neil your monster is here.”

“Drew! I thought you couldn’t make it”

“ sit down, junkie.I’m here.” Prof minyard mutters. In a louder tone asks “ why are we here day?”

“Why do you have something you were going to do?”

“ I want to go home and do nothing.”

Prof josten chokes on his water.

“ kevin” Mr wymack says “ tell them or I will.” Prof day huffs “ wymack is my father. I found out last year and I told him a week ago.”

“ this is why I’m here? Kevin, I could be asleep right now. I just worked a 24 hour shift.” Possible prof minyard complains

“Aaron! Be nice.” The red haired woman scolds

“ ok, so, that’s not our minyard.” Casey confirms

“Our minyard?” Aj asks

“Yes”

After about an hour of the teacher meeting talking about stuff, they start to, one by one, venture back home. All that’s left is the real professor minyard, prof josten, and the dean and his wife( who’s name is apparently abby)

“So, um, wymack, we have news. Andrew and I are married. We thought you should know first.” Prof josten states

“Oh! Congratulations boys! When did this happen?” Abby gushes

“5 years ago.” Prof minyard says flatly

“Christ, you two will be death of me. 5 years? Seriously?” Wymack sounds exasperated

Once the teachers leave the students just look at each other stunned.

“So he’s not the side piece, he’s the main piece.” Aj says so solemnly everyone else thinks she’s trying to be funny. She’s not.

Andrew is running late for work. Like, stupidly late.

When they got home, Neil jumped him and they’d spent most of the night having mind blowing sex, then when he woke up it was 10am and sir jumped onto the bed landing directly on his dick. Neil just laughed at that.

His coffee had grounds in it.

He grabbed Neil’s lunch on the way out.

And he’d forgotten to put his ring on.

He was having a bad day.

Thankfully most of his class was also late. “ today we will be visiting the butcher case. The key points are on the board, write them down. Neil josten will be joining us”

Just then Neil walks in, looking so fucking gorgeous. How dare he.

“ hey Drew. I brought YOUR lunch and some coffee. Also your ring is in my pocket if you want it.” Neil says. He’s so sweet, he’s beautiful, and kind, and Andrew loves him.

Andrew pulls Neil in by his pocket and gets his ring out. He puts it on, obviously.

“Care to introduce yourself junkie?” Andrew drawls

“Sure. Hello, my name is Neil josten, I’m here to consult on the butcher case. Any questions?”

A student raises his hand “are you two married?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Neil says coldly

“Why are you consulting on this case?” another student asks

“Because this case is personal, and also because Andrew asked.”

“ sit down rabbit.” Andrew murmurs “We will start with Nathan wesninski’s connection to the yakuza,specifically the moriyamas.

Neil and Andrew switch places when it’s stated that a college student was kidnapped and tortured

“ in fall of 2006 i was kidnapped and tortured by my fathers people. I was brought to my childhood home where my father was going to question and kill me. My uncle on my mother’s side came to my aid, and shot my father. By then I had sustained serious injuries to my face, arms and hands. I was brought to a hospital with two FBI agents in my room. I was demanding to see my teammates. In spring of that year my father killed my mother, she died on a beach in California. Her body was recovered by the FBI for evidence.” Neil recounted

“Junkie” Andrew asked softly

“ I’m fine.”

“I want a 20 page report on my desk by Friday.”Andrew told his students

Neil didn’t have class today, Andrew knew.

“Drew. I need to go. I want to go home. I need you.” Neil whispers

“I know ,love, I know. We will.” Andrew reassures him

They got home hours ago, and Neil immediately went to their bed and beckoned Andrew to come lay down with him.

Andrew was happy. He was so fucking happy.

Neil was kissing down Andrew’s neck as he thought. Andrew gave a shiver of pleasure when Neil sucked a mark just under his ear. He was going to have to cover that up tomorrow.

Andrew was home

#aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #professor andrew minyard #professor neil josten #soft Andrew #ooc Andrew #they are so in love #I love them so much help

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red-tea-lover · 3 months ago

Text

Мой мозг сжало до размера горошины после пары смен по 12 часов и ради успокоения я нарисовала этого милого парнишу [скорее всему почти под 40 но мне похуй]

My brain shrank to the size of a pea after a couple of 12 hour shifts and to calm down I drew this cute little guy [most likely he is almost 40 in reality but I don't care]

М-да уж хоть работа 2 на 2 это легче, но времени на рисунки не остаётся . Благо хотя бы фанфик успела написать, ну его первую главу . Первую из 10 глав хехе )

Well, at least 2x2 work is easier, but there is no time left for drawings. Luckily, at least I managed to write a fanfic, well, its first chapter. The first of 10 chapters hehe)

#пикчеблог чая #art #digital art #darkwood #darkwood trader

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yuyuonabeat · 7 months ago

Text

🌼BLUE 🌼 BOY🌼

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Written in first person

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

He was the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Had the prettiest smile and the prettiest brown eyes. He was tall, slender, charming and his laugh was my favorite sound.

That pretty boy, who I later found out from a friend that his name was Yunho. Gosh, even his name was pretty.

Pretty blue boy~ That’s what my coworkers at the coffee shop and I would call him. They had grown tired of hearing me talk and talk about the pretty blue boy every single second of our 10 hour shifts.

The color blue just suit him perfectly. Especially since he was a flower boy, he worked at the floral shop next to our coffee shop.

Beautiful blue boy giving out daisies to the people that passed by his shop. Always with a smile on his face. That smile that drew everyone in.

That smile was like his advertisement. One smile and everyone wanted to buy flowers from him.

Even got me spending lots of money weekly on bouquets that I would later place on my desk at home and stare at while picturing the way he smiled while handling them to me.

He had me love struck. Every morning I went to work happy thinking I’d get to see him opening his shop at the same time I opened mine.

He called me “Dove”. He then told me one day that he got the nickname from the way I always fed the pigeons near the shop and loved the white doves the most.

Always made me blush whenever he’d use that pet name on me. He was really every girls dream.

He looked like a Prince. Maybe he just needed a Princess. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was, I was falling for him deeper and deeper as the days went by.

He was also a regular at my shop. Always got the same order. A light capuchino with two sugars.

Never forgot to thank me with that beautiful smile of his. A lot of the times our fingers would brush against each other when I handed him his drink. Sending bolts of electricity through my body and down my spine.

My coworkers would tease me as I’d always end up looking like a ripe tomato after he left. One of them always pushed me into telling Yunho I liked him.

“Are you insane?! I can’t do that!” I’d say.

They just roll their eyes and get closer.

“You’re wasting time, you could have at least kissed him by now. But you stay with staring and acting like a little kid with a silly crush.” They would tell me.

“He’s not just ‘a silly crush’. He’s more than that. I’m just….. I don’t want to ruin this. What if I confess and he just thinks I’m weird or.. or what if he stops smiling at me?” I’d get anxious thinking about it.

After that they’d leave me alone. It’s been four months since he opened his floral shop. Yunho was very successful with his sales.

I’d visit his shop so many times, the walls and decor were engraved in my brain at this point.

I walked in and as usual would grace my fingers around the counter and eye the pretty flowers.

I could see him coming back from the back room. With his light blue shirt and white apron. There it was. That beautiful bright smile.

“Hello there , Dove.” He walked closer to me. Leaning down onto his elbows on the white counter.

“What brings you here today? Another bouquet?” He asked with a smile and tilted his head. Truly looked like a puppy.

I grab at my apron and clear my throat. Adjusting my glasses.

“Hi, um no. Today I actually came to tell you something….. something that has been eating away at me.” I look up at him.

His expression changes to a concerned one. He nods and waits for me to continue.

Now I’m just standing infront of him with a flushed expression and my head empty.

Should I tell him? That I like him?

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

A/N: cliffhanger cuz I love teasing y’all. (Also I just wrote this rn and I have no idea what I even wrote.)

#Spotify #ateez #ateez imagines #yuyuonabeat #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez jeong yunho fluff #ateez yuyu #yuyu my love #my blue boy

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mjonthetrack · 3 months ago

Text

Monday

It took Mahina approximately ten minutes to

catch the wrestler off guard to upper cut his

smug face reminding her he wasn’t going

anywhere to remind him that she had plans on

going. The woman grabbed her coat and sent

off a text and dipped out the front door to an

Uber that had come to pick the woman up.

Mahina sent a text off to Drew telling her she

was heading off to do her own thing. She did

send a text to Trinity who’d shared numbers

with her, thanking her for the hospitality and

that Jey would need an ice pack to ease his ego

and bruised face. It was maybe an hour and a

half drive to her place in Florida, opening her

door and setting her security system up for the

night. Mahina slipped out of her shoes rubbing

her tired feet, noting her slightly bruised

knuckles she gently strokes at the sore skin. He deserved it in her mind, his cocky remarks

about them being meant for one another and

how she might as well give up the tough act set

her off. Not to mention the reminder of her

height and how he just tossed her on his

shoulder carrying her off like some caveman

embarrassing the hell out of her in front of the

strangers. Her attention shifted to the sound of

her dog padding across the wooden floors, the

sitter had left after her alert that she was on her

way home. “Myers my baby,” she let out a long

sigh rubbing the large Cane Corso’s stomach

who huffed a snort in appreciation looking up at

her in confusion. “Oh right, cmon big guy, I have

to tell you about my day,” she patted her leg and

the dog trotted beside her protectively after

receiving his night time treats. The dog was a

rescue the woman saved during the dark period

of her life surrounding her ex, Myers was named

after her favorite horror movie slasher Michael.

Though the dog was such a big baby he was

well trained to guard and protect the petite

woman. She loved that dog, at times when she

found herself alone he was always there as if he

understood anything she ranted about.

Traveling wasn’t one of Mahina’s favorite things

to do for work, though her dog always came

with her and when he couldn’t she had the best

caregivers on call. The woman shimmied into

bed clothes, getting comfortable in her space as

Myers laid down by her feet like clockwork as

the pair filled the room with snores.

Thanking herself for having her phone on do

not disturb, Mahina was able to get some good

sleep. When morning came she was up and took

Myers on a walk, fed him and played with him

for a bit. After some well deserved hot tea,

Mahina was on her morning routine, showering

and pampering herself for the day ahead. She

was grateful her next modeling gig wasn’t for a

bit so it gave her time to answer emails and set

her next round of guests for her show. Though

her mother was famous it was her own sweat

and tears that built Moon talk up to what it was

now. Mahina had over 10 million subscribers on

YouTube, her show had a bit more on insta as

well as tiktok where she placed brief clips of her

interviews and talks to gage new momentum to

her YouTube channel. Though social media and

more specifically content creating clubs wanted

her at their events or houses it was not her

where her interest was. If she was honest

though doing product reviews or being on a

fashion sites latest campaign was fun and a

privilege that paid her bills she didn’t want that

for herself. Mahina loved hard hitting stories,

real journalism that was to the point and

highlighted the real important topics. She just

didn’t think the news realm would take her

seriously, she wasn’t the visual cookie cutter of

what most reporters were, polished and prim

wearing those itchy pant suits. Mahina created

Moon talk for people to get real stories and

learn about real world events in a comfortable

familiar way, not some professional patronage

from some major outlet owned by some fat

white old money Republican. Though she was

incredibly humble about her following it

reaffirmed that people liked her approach. She’d

loved having women who were apart of the

Black Panther Party come on the show and

encourage sisters everywhere that they did have

power. Even having economists and business or

financial experts come on the show and give the

people straight forward answers to current

issues. Mahina believed in variety, her show

spoke for that, it was only as of a few weeks ago

she secretly bought her own media studio and

hired talent from all backgrounds to push Moon

talk from cute convos wherever the guest would

agree to towards a physical studio. Mahina had

been saving for years and now she had her own

business, she was a boss and she decided she

wanted to make a name for herself and others

who main media turned an eye to.

Having set up a show for the day she smiled

at her pink boots, she ran through the schedule,

making sure everyone had been ready, catering

breakfast for the crew of the show. Her first

guest was one from the NAACP who’d been

there talking about the racial climate and how

their organization was founded on supporting

minority growth and security. The conversation

was incredibly useful as the guest on her show

announced that ten viewers were to be blessed

with full rides to a hbcu of their choice. That was

something that visibly shocked Mahina who

adamantly thanked him, to which the man

responded,” your efforts connecting people with

real world experience inspired us and we want

to inspire the people watching you to do the

same.” After a small cry and conversation about

music the pair hugged and the next guest was

brought on. The last guest was a black couple

who ran a local animal rescue and were showing

adoptable animals on her show with Mahina

admitting it was where she rescued Myers. The

big dog was brought in and everyone gave him

plenty of attention and love as the film crew cut

the live. Comments were bracing all over social

media, excitement buzzing for the scholarships,

people asking for more info on the adoption

process. There were several individuals who

commented on her new set up and og watchers

who Mahina responded with her gratitude. “The

ratings are through the fucking roof bitch you

did that!,” Donovan her very flamboyant and gay

producer commented sliding his headphones

off,” and that outfit eats Nani, I’m so proud of

you!” Mahina hugged and thanked the man

who'd helped her run the behind the scenes

work from the jump. Mahina grabbed everyone

and prayed for them all and hugged, thanking

each and every person there for their help in

making her first studio show a success. Still

getting used to her drive back to her crib,

Mahina let Donovan take her and drop her off

with Myers who was all too eager to get inside

and eat his food. Her phone began blowing up

with social media notifications, not ignoring

seeing Trinity and Jimmy’s likes on her

insta post of her standing in her studio before

the set, she responded to Trinity’s comment on

her looking amazing and what a great show it

was. Mahina thought she was off the hook until

her doorbell rang causing her brows to scrunch.

She didn’t expect any guests, when she saw her

door unlock she reached for her glock, aiming

right at the front door when she saw her

favorite tall couple and others rush in. “Bitch

you weren’t gonna tell me about the studio?”

came Drew’s voice as Pili raised his hands,”

don’t shoot us we come baring gifts and what

my beloved fiancée meant was you looked

awesome on your show, we’re proud of you.” Mahina blinked a few times spotting several of

the people from the day before in her living

room,” What did I tell you about random pop

ups Drew I almost made you all Swiss cheese.” Drew snorted,” girl I’ve seen your aim the only

thing I’d be afraid for is the ceiling, but we came

to collect you as promised for our Samoa trip,

we had some schedule changes and now

everyone is coming too.” At the mention of the

word everyone it became increasingly clear of

the presence of both of the twins, Joe and his

wife and daughter, Trinity with one son on her

hip and the other clinging to her leg, Drew

standing by Pili who was raiding Mahina’s

fridge. Mahina raised a brow and took a step

back at a large male walking to her,” sorry to just

burst into your home, you can call me Sefa or

Solo, oh and the white man and his mini group is

Sami and his very pregnant wife.” It took a

second briefly shaking the man’s hand speaking

out loud,” Drew why did you invite strangers in

my house?!” The tall woman patted her back

having returned with several suitcases of

Mahina’s things,” It was easier to just all come

and get you together as our flights in about

an hour, don’t worry they’re all family well minus

Sami, he works with them all, they are

professional wrestlers.” Mahina deadpanned the

woman like she was crazy,” I can’t just go on a

plane what about-,” a deep voice cut in,”don’t

worry Ma toto will be coming with us,” Mahina

glared at her bundle of wrinkles on legs who

obviously failed basic intruder training 101, laid

on his back eagerly awaiting Jey’s tummy rubs.

“His name is Myers, and Drew I need to talk to

you,” she grabbed the woman’s arm and

retreated to her bedroom,” what are you

doing,those people know where I live now, he

knows!” Drew eyed her warily,” valid, I should’ve

warned you but if I asked we both know what

your answer would be, and I talked to Donovan

who is a fan of mine apparently and your

schedule is free for this.” Mahina felt a bit of

frustration having this all go above her head,

she knew her best friend meant well it was just

a half cocked and dumb ass way of doing it

“Well if we have a flight to catch let’s get

moving, but you owe me new locks on my door I

don’t want new pop ups, and for your

information my aim is not bad, I’ve been taking

classes.” Drew snorted,” so you can miss hitting

the target a little less, doesn’t change my mind,

now let’s move.”

The group arrived at the airport and were

quickly ushered through vip due to the nature of

the guests. Mahina took in what Drew said

about the group’s profession, sure being a

professional athlete was admirable in its own

right it just didn’t mean much to her. Mahina

never really grew up around sports and never

cared about watching games or pretending to

care about highlights being shared at social

gatherings. Especially after being an ex to a

pro football player she had enough of sports to

show too much of an interest when she’d

decided to look into the company they worked

for and watch a few videos of matches online

considering it a part of her journalism duties. Seeing all the effort that went into the show

and then the athleticism was impressive on its

own to her. “Have any favorites?,” came Trinity��s

voice causing Mahina to jump,” oh I’m sorry I

didn’t meant to scare you, I just got the vibe

you weren’t into sports?” Mahina let out a sigh

releasing the momentary stress of being caught

researching,” I’m not but I figured it would be

rude to not look at the people I’m about to

spend a lot of time with’s personal careers as

you all have mentioned seeing my show earlier.” Trinity laughed at that nudging her,” very safe

played,” Mahina shrugged,” I can tell you all put

a lot of work into making these shoes move so

smoothly, that’s admirable, I think if I had to get

up on a platform like that and do exercise I

would vomit and probably piss my pants.” That

made Trinity and Jimmy who’d joined the pair

laugh at her honesty,” it’s refreshing having

someone not be all in our faces and liking or

getting to know us for us and not some stage

persona,” Jimmy commented a warm smile on

his face. “I didn’t realize it could get that crazy, I

never watched wrestling before so honestly

name drops or mentioning wwe to me before

wouldn’t have meant much of anything, but I’m

glad you have found an outlet for yourselves,”

Mahina noted simply,”I kind of feel a little stupid

Drew didn’t mention anything about you all

being actual celebrities.” Trinity shook her

head,” you have met us for who we are outside

of the ring, the real us and that is not something

most can say, you’re obviously a very genuine

woman and we’ve enjoyed meeting you thus

far.” Mahina lowered her head a bit in

embarrassment ,” I can’t believe I didn’t

recognize any of you though,” she went on to

explain her distaste for sports and mostly it’s

ties to her ex which Jimmy commented on how

he wasn’t a fan of their team making her laugh.

#fanfic #fantasy #romance #jey uso #wwe fanfiction #the usos #jey uso fanfiction #angst #fanfiction #supernatural

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kittenninja14 · 1 year ago

Note

Hii KN!!

I have a question. Can you describe the evolution of the way you drew Zane?

ps. ur Zane is so cute!

Hello, my mysterious friend!! <333

Thank you for asking that brilliant question.

First of all, thank you soo much!! I'm glad you think my Zane is cute!! <33

As for the "evolution" here it is:

The first time I drew Zane, I drew him like this:

Yeah.... nowhere close to the Zane I now draw, lol.

Tbh, I nvr really liked how I drew him here. To me, he just didn't feel real(?). I dunno if that's the right word, lol. He looks more like a rectangle than a human.

But all in all, I just wasn't satisfied with the results. For this fanart, I just needed to draw Zane so I did my best in this art.

The second time I drew Zane was-- welllllll, I honestly love drawing Zane, he kinda is my fav character to draw (his hair is soooo easy, lol) But I started doodling Zane here and there in class.

I do not recommend doodling in class. Be responsible and work on ur classwork, lol.

I don't have all my doodles but here is one

As u can see Zane is starting to get more shape here, lol.

He's starting to look more human (is that the right word?) than a rectangle, lol.

The third time I drew him was for a fanart from Shogun: Becoming by @nickelwick

(sry about the bad quality)

Now this was a completely different art style in coloring/drawing but with all that aside-- you can see a major shift in style when it comes to drawing Zane.

(now in retrospect the eyes could use a little improvement)

Anyways, I wanted to draw Zane with a different look. From the time between the first drawing and the second, I was tweaking/improving my art style.

The fourth time was for my screenshot redraw:

Honestly, here, you can see a huge change.

I would say that the fanart for Shogun: Becoming seriously inspired me when I drew this.

I think the tip I can give you when it comes to drawing characters is to first try to find an art style that you are comfortable with drawing.

In my case, if you scroll wayyyyy down in my DeviantArt account, you can see that the first couple of artworks are all done in different styles--I was in the "experimenting" stage.

In all honesty, I believe that all artists out there--no matter how good their art is--can improve. There is always room for improvement and betterment (dunno if that's a word, lol).

So when it came to Zane (and my art style as well) I started experimenting.

Then after I was done with experimenting, I started improving my art.

Here is the fifth time I drew Zane.

This pic is actually the "foundation" of all of my Zane pics. The colors, expressions, and clothes were all done bc I experimented.

It took time--a lot of time-- to get this drawing done.

But that's how we all start, lol.

The sixth time, I drew the og Zane.

He was quite a challenge, lol. Perhaps it was the color pallet or the fact that I was rushing to get this done for Ninjago's 13 anniversary, but he honestly could use an improvement, lolll.

Now I can do A LOT of pics to show the "evolution" but imma just use the latest art.

This pic took like 10 mins (at most) to draw. Compared to the fifth time which took hours.

Drawing Zane has honestly become my fav pass-time, ngl.

I would say to all the artists out there-- just relax. Ur art doesn't have to be purr-fect. No one starts out as a professional. (unless u have some cool powers that make u draw perfectly)

Be patient with yourself.

Everyone can draw. But it just takes time, practice, and perseverance.

So don't give up. If I had given up on drawing Zane after the first pic, then I would have never drawn this cutie pie, lol.

Anyways, I hope this answers your question!! I honestly had a lot of fun with this "evolution" post. Feel free to ask me more about the other ninjas. But ngl, I think Zane is the only character (as of rn) that I feel the most comfortable with and has the most development, lol.

Byeeee!! Cya next time!!! <3333

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

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fantastic-mr-corvid · 4 months ago

Text

oc deep dive questions!

Tyyy for the tag @kaleido-scope-lady <3 i loved learning more about Ophelia<3 Gonna go for Muro/Celia bc im predictable. questions at the bottom for ppl to copy if they want to do this!

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Teachers. school was rough for them and there's a reason beyond needing to work full time that he fully dropped out at 16- it was only Paula that stopped him from droping out before that

Do they have any pet peeves?

Picky eaters. im one myself but he will ask if you have anything you cant eat and then will cook and if you dont like the food and dont finish your plate he will judge you [In his opinion food is food and good food is great but bad food is at least something so be grateful]

ALSO people who comment on peoples accents. He speaks very strong Neapolitan so most italian speakers cant easily understand him, he tries to tone it down but if you are rude about his accent and he is understandable he gets very pissed off. Tesoro who is a polyglot and loves learning languages and accents is the main point of interaction with people from outside the city for this reason

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Tape recorder, record player and a [field] hockey stick. He doesnt play hockey anymore but he loved it and keeps some of his old sticks around [unfortunately the ones that he used as a weapon had to be destroyed lest they be used as evidence]

What do they notice first in a person?

Their comfort level, are they confident and at ease in the environment? are they nervous and on edge? Pretty good for judging how the conversation is gonna go, and if it will turn violent- and how to avoid it.

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

It certainly gets higher over the course of his life, to about a 7 maybe? its not chronic pain haver levels of pain tolerance, but he can grin and bear through a lot. Most regular wound being he fails to entirely stop a bullet before it hits him, so he has a lot of bullet grazes that he powers thru till whoevers shooting at him is dead.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Freeze. as an adult he freezes more, he used to fight but freezing up is safer these days and causes less regret.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

He may not come from a big family, but he seems to have collected one around him- It starting as just his Mama and her, then Cecio, but by the time Celia was 11 Conficcare was spending more time at their flat than at home, and after his mothers death and them joining Passione, Tesoro moved into the flat and then Rametta started spending more and more time there.

He loves them all and in his dream world they are all as close, just without the negative things that drew and kept them together. Part of the reason Rametta placed into the role of father figure was because he tries very hard to be

What animal represents them best?

Dog. One of those big working dogs that's fiercely defensive and loyal. if he was a dog he would be a rescue- previously abused and mistreated and so dubbed violent but gets a new life protecting some puppies- he acts like a kicked dog enough already. i dont know a breed of dog that is tiny as puppies but grows massive but that's 100% him.

What is a smell they dislike?

Gunshot residue. He has a distaste for guns that's very hypocritical but given how many times hes seen someone go from alive to very much not in the space of a few seconds it makes sense- Baccios death being a very notable example.

Have they broken any bones?

Yep! at 16/17 in an upcoming fic she badly breaks an arm, and shes probably broken quite a few more.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Intimidating. In a kinder light, ruggedly statuesque. The bright reds and golds of his outfits might bring to mind a poisonous animal.

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

Both! Hes used to long hours and late nights, and loves his midday siestas. If it wasnt for Conficcares nursing shift hours he would be the person always awake first and asleep last, he likes to wait up for anyone out late and have breakfast ready in the morning before people wake up.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Not sure on hate, hes far from a picky eater, but he loves chorizo and salami. Butter fried chorizo with mushrooms and cheese on bread is the default breakfast and he will often snack of a stick of salami through the day

Do they have any hobbies?

Music! he loves listening to music, and he also loved being a mechanic, he takes very good care of his vehicles and really enjoys maintaining them - and racing them.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

Badly. one the initial surprise is over he finds it sweet but you better hope Human Algebra didnt deem it a threat- so no jumping out at him

Do they like to wear jewelery?

Jewelry can cause issues in fights, so he tends to avoid it. He wears his mothers rosary on his wrist tucked into his sleeve and has a few rings that he occasionally wears but other than that he keeps it to a minimum. He would love to pierce his ears and have earrings but hes half torn someone else's ear of in a fight with their earring to many times to be comfortable with having one himself.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Messy is an understatement- at least for teen Celia, but Marco taught her to write in block capitals, so while the spelling and grammar may not be great and the letters may be mirrored, its somewhat legible- it just takes effort so for anything long he gets someone else to write it or uses a voice recorder.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Worry. Grief & anger to but that underlies it. He worries a lot- very much a mother hen who needs to know where eveyone is and that they are safe. he worries about how much people eat- food insecurity is a bitch- and worried about if he has made the right decisions.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Given his main outfit is a denim jacket and trousers, probably that. Linen is nice and cool which is great in napoli!

What kind of accent do they have?

Strong. 'Canonically' he has a very thick Neapolitan accent to his Italian- if not just speaking it, probably even heavier than usual Spanish influences on his accent and slang- talking of slang he has almost definitely picked up a bit of Sinhala and Ukrainian- the languages of two largest immigrant populations in Napoli- as well as possibly bits of Chinese- as he grew up in an immigrant dominated area of the city.

[based of 2023 demographic information so probably very different from the 1980s but i haven't been able to easily find previous data- i will deep dive at some point but basically he will have picked up some words and slang from the dominant immigrant groups]

[EDIT: earliest data i can find with demographic info is from 2004 and its still Sri Lanka then Ukraine, but after that its Poland]

In my head however- he speaks halfway between Cockney and MLE [Multicultural London English] as of around the mid 80s in Hackney when MLE was growing to replace Cockney as the majority spoken dialect.

EDIT: Paula is Egyptian and so she would have an egyptian arabic accent, though due to xenophobia she will have worked hard to minimize it. Muro has other stronger influences on his accent but there are little bits here and there that will show up in his accent

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Do they have any pet peeves?

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

What do they notice first in a person?

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

What animal represents them best?

What is a smell they dislike?

Have they broken any bones?

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Do they have any hobbies?

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

Do they like to wear jewelery?

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Do they have a favourite fabric?

What kind of accent do they have?

#thebirdwrites #gold & silver #oc: celia #tyyy #sorry this took so long ive been slowly working on it

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point-pine · 1 month ago

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Chapter Two

“Good afternoon, everyone, Angela Borea here once again for radio Point Pine. I’m hoping everyone has been enjoying the rain more than I, as I happened to find the road back to town too muddy to use this morning. Regardless, the show must go on.”

Angela’s voice filled the store, running through a speaker I’d installed two years prior. She presented that day’s community radio segment with the kind of enthusiasm that most townsfolk only heard when she worked. That day’s five o’clock segment had been several minutes later than usual as Angela had decided to play the full fifteen minutes of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture prior to her broadcast (a decision made more strange by the hour of Queen that had preceded it). The broadcast would usually align with my five o’clock snack breaks, so I took her voice as a cue to grab something to eat.

A portion of the storage room was left cleared, save for a table, an ice cream freezer that leaked near constantly, and a microwave. On my first shift, this area had been generously described as a break room complete with a refrigerator and an oven. On my second shift the bag I left on the table turned up empty by the time I left.

While I attempted to retrieve my sandwich from the depths of the makeshift refrigerator, the door at the back of the storeroom was heaved open.

“You would not believe the state of that back road. I’m surprised so many branches can fall in such little time.” Angela’s tall frame filled the doorway, a few empty shopping bags were slung over her shoulder. She beamed, seeming proud of herself. Her skin, beginning to take a wintry pale tone, contrasted with her black hair, the longest strands just scraped her shoulders, while errant threads blew about in the draft.

“The van made it here without too much damage, I should hope?” I replied, leaning to look out the door, Angela’s battered white van was parked at one end of the back road outside, the light rain creating streaks in the dirt that clung to the vehicle.

“Eh, probably. There was only an average amount of strange noises while I made it over here.” Angela pushed the door closed with both hands and locked it with a flick of her fingers. She tossed her keys into the air and almost caught them.

Angela walked out of the storage room, grabbing a small bag of chips from a box as she went. Before joining her in the storefront, I checked the backdoor was locked properly and took a bite of my limp sandwich.

“When the rain lets up, we’re in for crystal clear skies” Angela’s radio segment continued to fill the store, she smiled at me when I came out of the backroom and returned the thumbs-up I gave her. “And – I’m only guessing here – there’ll be a chill in the air tonight, at least ‘till tomorrow morning.”

“So, you managed to get pre-recorded segments working?” I asked, turning the speaker’s volume down a few notches.

“Yes!” she turned and drew her arm out in a vague, excitable gesture “Well, no! System’s probably too old, I was up for… A while last night, eventually I figured out a temporary solution that would work just fine.”

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

“Not at all!” Angela dropped a bottle of juice into a bag and passed it to me before glancing at the clock behind the counter “Although I’ve only got maybe thirty minutes before we have to leave so I don’t broadcast dead air for too long.” She crouched down to collect a 10-litre jug of water.

I considered the ramifications of closing early for a moment, then pointed my thumb behind me with a quick “Now?”. Before long I was standing behind the store, shopping bag in hand, locking, unlocking, and relocking the door to ensure that it was properly locked. After turning the key for the fifth time, I flinched into the door as Angela tapped me on the shoulder. She whispered an apology and beckoned me around to the side of the store.

“Do you know what he’s doing out here?” Peering around the building, Angela leaned her head and pointed a thumb in the direction of a figure. Wearily pacing around on the opposite side of the road, umbrella in hand, was Trevor.

“He’s trying to stay awake.” The first thought that crossed my mind passed through my mouth subconsciously. I shut my mouth again.

“Nat…” Angela looked at me out of the corner of her eye at first, then turned her head. Her expression was calculating, a slight gap in her lips opened while her eyes searched my face.

“Anyway. I don’t know, he’s just someone.” I answered her question, it had been twenty-seven seconds since she had asked it.

Across the road, Trevor stopped pacing and held out his thumb before a car sped past him. That’s when he noticed us, he waved.

“Don’t hitchhike around here, trust me.” I called out to him. “Town is a fifteen- or twenty-minute walk north.” I pointed left and he shouted a quick thanks across the road before beginning the walk into town.

“Onwards, Angela?” I asked, turning toward her.

“Onwards!” A smile returned to her face as she clapped her hands together once with a flourish.

⁂ Time passed ⁂

A scant few leaves littered the road, twigs and weak branches snapped under the wheels of Angela’s van. The thick foliage above was just beginning to change colour, a few thick rivulets of water dropped off it onto the windows, while some branches streaked the drops as they glided across the windows. I tugged on my jacket’s zipper while Angela tapped out a staggered rhythm across the steering wheel. My shirt was sticking to me.

“Or, here’s one, have you been to the…” Angela paused, seeming to struggle to find which word to use next “Well, I think he’s calling it a café at the moment. Have you been to Terry’s Café recently?”

“Oh god, what’s he done this time?” I leant my head against my hand.

“Well, he calls me up, it’s probably eleven at night by that point, he sounds thrilled, overjoyed. He says” she dropped her pitch “Miss B, I’ve been experimentin’, come on down for a free meal – so long as you give us a little word on your show.” With her left hand, she pointed in my general direction “Then he hangs up!” She punctuates her last word with a weak snap of her fingers.

“Of course, you went down to the café?”

“You bet and, let me tell you, this experiment he seemed so excited about? It was a burger. An ordinary burger with a side of – probably frozen – chips.”

“Was it… palatable, at the very least?”

Angela paused for a moment; a sly smile appeared at the corner of her lips “It was better than yours.”

“Hey, fuck you! You showed up absurdly late of course they were going to be cold!” I repressed a laugh.

“And you, Nathaniel, told me the wrong time to arrive.”

“I still hold that I did nothing of the sort.” I crossed my arms and turned towards the window. Angela cackled; I chuckled.

The clearing came into view, illuminated by the fading grey of the early evening sky. Just off centre was the radio tower. It had stood so for eighty years and certainly would stand eighty more. The strong, sturdy limbs that held the building above the tree line were dark heavy chunks of wood etched with faded carvings near the ground. A rickety stairway that had been replaced twice within my lifetime wound around the supports. At the top of the tower was a collection of straight metal bars at right angles to each other reaching up into the sky. The single room atop the supports was constructed from 4 even rectangular walls, split by windows in the centre across the whole of each. Encircling the room was a balcony just wider than a metre.

The van came to a stop as a metallic clatter sounded from somewhere in the vehicle. Stepping outside, the air was cold, the rain light, and the wind weak. Angela moved up the stairs, water jugs in hand, while I carried bags, trudging up behind her. As I climbed, without the trees to restrain it, the wind grew in strength. Angela held the door for me while I hurried inside.

From inside, I took in the sights. A spare few drops of rain trailed down the windows, cutting and obscuring the view outside. Although you couldn’t see it from there, Point Pine was to the east, to the west the mountains stood as they always had. Due west was a mountain that had always stood out to me amongst the rest; I was sure there was a road that wound around it, somewhere out there.

On the western edge of the clearing was a gap in the tree line. Marked on either side by the rotted, moss enveloped remains of a fence was a meandering path. At the end dwelt a lake. Its surface was often still, stable, like the massive face of a mirror. The lake was identifiable from the tower, small shards visible through the trees, jagged edges changing shape with the dancing leaves.

“Nat.” Angela stepped in front of me. “The shopping?” Both her voice and the weight of the bags, things I was only vaguely aware of since I stepped in, returned to the forefront of my mind. I gave her a quick nod.

The space wasn’t large, made smaller by the various objects strewn about that I had to step over to reach the fridge. Angela called it cosy, although I could never tell if she was being facetious or lying. On a table in the corner opposing the door were various pieces of radio equipment that Angela was fiddling with, she spoke an apology for the last forty minutes of dead air into the microphone and rummaged through a small box of CDs.

To the left of the radio equipment was another table, in a pile were more CDs, several DVDs, and three books – two of which I had lent her; there was a bookmark placed about half-way through one. The fridge was further to the left, I flinched away from the cold when I opened the door. While I stocked the fridge, Angela organised a few notes.

The next wall along had the rest of the makings of a basic kitchen against it, through those windows you could see the lake, still, and the mountains.

Angela recited her sign off for the day, wearily drew her hand down her face and strolled toward her bed, which lay between a wall and a bedside table. She placed her phone on the bedside table, next to a half-melted candle and a burnt-out lightbulb. She sprawled out across the bed, sitting up, leaning her head against the window behind her. Angela’s blankets were bundled up messily to one side of the bed.

While Angela lingered in the moment, I picked up one of the books on the table; I had lent it to her at some point, a bookmark was placed about halfway through. Beneath a battered paperback with a dog-eared page near the end was another novel I had lent her, either yet to be started or already read. Also on the table was a small pile of electrical components I couldn’t identify alongside three collapsed stacks of CDs.

I picked up the novel without a bookmark and sat down. It was an old favourite of mine, the simple bronze ink linework design across the binding glinted from the ceiling light. I began to read.

⁂ Time passed ⁂

“Oh, I am so sorry, I think I nodded off there, we’ve barely had time to chat!” Angela sprang off the bed, almost toppling over in the process. “I haven’t even prepared your bed!”

“Hey, it’s fine. You’re tired, we can talk tomorrow. I’ll get my sleeping arrangements sorted, it’s all in storage yeah?” I pointed to the hatch in the centre of the floor.

“Yes, yes, it is. Are you sure though? I could- “

“It’s fine, just go to sleep.” I gave Angela a thumbs up.

Before I could say goodnight, Angela fell back into bed. I folded the blankets over her and looked outside. It seemed the wind had stilled.

Quietly, I placed the book down on the table and made my way outside. There, the night air was still, below me a light breeze blew through the trees, creating faint white noise. The rain had stopped by then, leaving a comfortable cold in its wake. The scent of petrichor hung in the air, barely detectable. I breathed lightly.

I lit a cigarette and looked to the sky. It was a clear night; it was more often clear at the tower than in town. The stars and moon were bright as day, I traced my eyes across the sky, identifying constellations, first at the centre of the Southern cross, then shifting outward.

Tiny, bright embers joined the stars in the sky. On some unknown, undetectable wind, the embers flitted about, they danced back and forth making their way to somewhere, slowly, in the brief moments before they burnt out.

Ahead of me, splintered through the trees, the moon glinted off the lake, larger and closer than the shape turning in the sky. The world continued to spin.

I flitted away the last of the dying embers into the still air and watched them dance among the stars once more when a slight movement made itself known. On the rail furthest from me, it hopped. The shape, with greater effort than appeared, closed a small distance between us. It was a quail, dark brown with cream stripes running down its body, it tilted its head inquisitively. I smiled at it. The fragile creature hopped once more; it was quiet. We watched each other for a moment.

Every now and then, time can seem to stand still out there.

I turned to go back inside, and the bird flew away.

Notes

Ringing in the new year with the next chapter! This one took perhaps too long. The first chapter was written in the span of a few days, while this one took the better part of eight months. I was never quite happy with a lot of what I had down and I am also ridiculously lazy. Regardless, the chapter is done now! I'm still not quite happy with it, and there's a bit of a road ahead for what comes next, but we're here. I hope you've liked meeting Angela, she was tonnes of fun to write for. Thanks for reading!

- P

#Point Pine #Point Pine chapter #fiction #prose #horror #comedy #horror comedy #weird #weird fiction #new weird fiction #series #oc

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lelitachay · 10 months ago

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Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: An accident in the North Mountain forces Elsa to spend several weeks in her brother’s apartment under Anna’s care. During that time, Anna realises there is more to Elsa than meets the eye. The truth about Elsa’s past comes to light after an unexpected family reunion, and both girls’ lives begin to fall apart when they realise Elsa wasn’t the only one with a big secret and a turbulent past.

Anna/Kristoff - Elsa - Family - Family drama - hurt/comfort - Modern AU - Elsa & Kristoff are adoptive brother and sister - Ice bros - Found family - Serious injuries - Mental health issues - Health issues - Frohana

Links:

Fanfiction.net - HERE AO3 - HERE

Tumblr -

Chapters 1 to 10 - Here Chapters 11 to 20 - Here Chapters 21 to 30 - Here Chapters 31 to 40 - Here Chapter 41 to 50 - Here

Silver lining

The slam of the front door caught Anna by surprise. Placing the knife on the cutting board, she dried her hands with the dishcloth and turned around to see Kristoff go about his evening routine. He had already taken off his muddy boots, leaving them forgotten by the door. He then took his jacket off and left it on the hanger before he squatted on the ground to greet Sven.

Her lips turned upwards as she watched her boyfriend scratch the dog’s ears and mumble to him. Anna stayed quiet, allowing him a moment with his dog. No matter how much time Anna spent with Sven, she knew she was no replacement for Kristoff or Elsa. And even if she had no way to prove it, Anna was certain Sven was suffering alongside the family. Perhaps it was the long hours he spent alone in the apartment, or Kristoff’s sombre mood; but whatever it was, it had been enough for Sven to notice something wasn't right. And ever since Elsa had fallen ill, the dog spent his days laying on the sofa, waiting impatiently for either Kristoff or Elsa to show up.

Keeping one hand on Sven’s head, Kristoff stood up and finally locked eyes with Anna. A small, tired smile drew on his face and Anna felt her chest constricting. She was tired of seeing him hide his sadness behind forced smiles. Smiles Anna knew were solely for her and his family’s sake. The bags under his eyes and the wrinkles between his eyebrows were a telltale of his sleepless nights and the concern he couldn't mask.

Shaking off the awful feeling, Anna smiled back, her grin a clear contrast to Kristoff’s forced smile. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she thought it was best to give him a minute. Allow him to talk about his day and then give him the news. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” he said without enthusiasm. He walked towards the closest chair and sat down with a tired sigh.

“How was your day?” The question was stupid, Anna knew. It was late in the evening, meaning Kristoff had worked overtime and missed his chance to visit his sister yet again.

“Absolute rubbish.”

“I’m sorry,” she said as she turned around and picked up the knife to continue cooking while he vented. “Is your boss giving you a hard time?”

The owner of the ice factory had always been a reasonable man; but even if he had the best intentions, Kristoff was still one of the few people who could be in charge of the plant whenever he was not around.

“No. Not really.” He walked to the fridge and grabbed a drink. He closed the door and leaned against it to watch Anna cook. “He’s been more than understanding given the situation. When Elsa got sick, Jorgen and I agreed I would work with the guys during the morning and early afternoon. On his part, he would work the afternoon and evening shift on his own, allowing me to get off from work earlier. The boss didn't mind, as long as there was someone at the plant at all times…”

“Okay… That sounds reasonable.”

“Guess who broke a foot yesterday?”

Anna stopped chopping and turned to him. “Is Jorgen okay?”

He nodded as he took a long sip from the bottle. “The idiot broke his foot skateboarding.”

Anna stopped what she was doing once again, her brows knitting together as she tried to put a face to the name. “I thought Jorgen was the man I met at the company’s party last year.”

“He is.”

Anna looked at Kristoff. The man she was thinking about was at least fifteen years older than Kristoff. She even remembered meeting his wife and daughters. “Oh, I wouldn’t have thought he knew how to skateboard.”

“He doesn't,” Kristoff said, breathing out tiredly.

“What do you mean he doesn’t?”

“He bought his first skateboard three weeks ago.”

“What was he thinking?

“How could I know? Something tells me his midlife crisis had a lot to do with that stupid idea.” Kristoff exclaimed and Anna couldn't help but laugh. She could understand her boyfriend’s frustration perfectly well, but his exasperated tone of voice made her crack nonetheless. At least her laugh made him smile. “Boss said he'll try to find someone to cover his shifts, until then I've got to stay over time. Stupid idiot.”

Anna chuckled and returned her attention to her task at hand. “He didn't do it on purpose, honey.”

“Of course not,” Kristoff agreed. “But I hope he learns a lesson.”

The way he kept scraping the label off his bottle told Anna he was feeling uneasy. Knowing exactly the reason why, Anna thought it was best to finally share the news with him.

“Kristoff, there’s—”

“Did you get to see Elsa today?” he interrupted, not realising Anna was trying to say something.

“I did,” she said. Once again, she stopped cooking and turned to him. “I got home an hour or so ago. I've got some news…”

“No,” he was quick to say, walking away from Anna. “No, no.”

Anna turned around, her eyes narrowing. “What?”

“I don’t think I can take any more bad news, Anna.” He slouched on the chair and tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I just can’t.

Sitting next to him, Anna leaned forward. He was avoiding her eyes but Anna didn’t mind, all he needed to do was listen. “The antibiotics are winning. Blood pressure is going up. Oxygen levels are higher than Nielsen expected…”

She trailed off, allowing Kristoff a moment to process the information. It took a couple of seconds, but finally he sat up. “What?”

A smile plastered on Anna’s face. “They've decided to wean her off sedation.”

Anna wasn’t entirely sure what reaction to expect out of Kristoff, but not once did she expect him to stare unfocused at the floor, unresponsive.

“Honey, did you hear what I just said?” Placing a hand on his knee, she explained herself better. “She’s going to be fine.”

Kristoff barely glanced at her before he focused on her hand. He stared at it, until he finally held it tight.

Anna stared at their intertwined hands as well, unsure of what to say. After a moment, a slight tremor caught her attention and she looked up to see Kristoff crying.

“Kristoff?” she asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

“I fucking needed this,” he choked out. “I don't know how much longer I could've put up with this shit. I—” Unable to continue, he wrapped Anna in a tight hug and hid his face in the crook of her neck.

Anna froze in place, surprised to see his hard shell cracking. For days she had been expecting him to reach a breaking point, knowing the worry was steadily dragging him down. Though, she was surprised to see it happen at that moment. Unsure of what else to do, Anna hugged him tight, glad he was finally letting it all out.

I took Kristoff a couple of minutes to regain some composure and calm down enough to be able to speak again. He let go of Anna and scrubbed his face with both hands, trying in vain to erase any vestige of his emotional breakdown. When he finally looked at her, Anna was glad to see an honest smile drawing on his face, despite his watery eyes.

“I should probably call dad,” Kristoff said when the implications of the news finally hit him. “See if mum needs anything.”

“She's not staying at the hospital tonight,” Anna called after him when stood up to look for the phone.

He picked the phone and turned around to look at her. “I thought you said they'd begun weaning her off the drug.”

“Nielsen said it'll take several hours for her to start responding,” she said. “He insisted Gerda went home tonight.”

“Is Marshall staying, then?”

With a nod of her head, Anna explained what Nielsen had told them earlier that day. “Marshall needs to keep an eye on Elsa’s powers. Nielsen is convinced they’ll react before Elsa’s fully conscious.”

Kristoff pursed his lips. “They don't really work that way. But I think it's safe to be prepared.” He then dialled his parents’ number. “I'm glad Elsa had the chance to talk to the big guy before all this,” he told Anna while he waited. “At least he knows what to expect. You were right about him.”

Anna nodded but stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. She was glad Kristoff and his family were on better terms with Marshall now that he was giving them a hand. After all, Marshall was indeed doing everything in his power to help like she had originally imagined. Sadly, Anna wasn’t entirely sure she had done the right thing. Ever since her conversation with Lena, Anna didn’t know what to expect anymore. She had been reading, trying to find information about his disorder; and so far, everything she’d been able to find on the matter did nothing but increase Anna’s ever present worry.

Promising his father to be at their place before sunrise, Kristoff hung up the phone and walked back to the kitchen. The conversation with Kai had helped him remain calm and control his need to go to the hospital as soon as possible. Even when he knew it was useless to go outside the scheduled visiting hours, he couldn’t help but feel anxious about seeing Elsa. He had only seen her twice in the last five days, and now that he knew she’d be waking up soon, he had to control himself not to go sit in the waiting room until she did. At least, he had found a good excuse to stop by the hospital the following morning. He could drop his mother off before work, stay a few minutes and wait for Marhall or Nielsen to give him a report on Elsa’s health. It wasn’t the same as seeing Elsa, but at least he would go to work knowing more about his sister’s condition.

He entered the kitchen and smiled when he saw Anna. She was too focused on the plating of their dinner to notice him, and he was glad that was the case. He knew exactly why she had chosen to cook an elaborate dish for them that night. Early on in their relationship, Kristoff discovered Anna enjoyed reading cooking books and trying new exotic dishes. She didn’t care too much about cooking on a daily basis, but she was fond of the challenge of trying to cook a new dish from time to time. Following the intrinsicate steps, controlling the time and ingredients, making sure the dish looked just like in the pictures… Those were the things that fascinated her, and whenever she had the time or needed a distraction —like she desperately needed lately—, she’d get to work on a new, extravagant dish. Her hobby was something Kristoff enjoyed as well, and there were times he made sure to find strange dishes for her to try. Given the stress of the last few weeks, Kristoff thought it was more than obvious for Anna to try and find a distraction. Especially now that they both were impatient to see Elsa and all they could do was wait.

Thinking it was best to give her a hand with the table, he began moving the books and things that were scattered over the table.

“How’s your dad?” Anna asked when she finally heard him moving around the kitchen.

“Optimistic,” Kristoff answered with a small smile. It was a nice change to hear his father being confident things would turn out for the best for once. “Mum was already asleep. Dad says she plans to show up at the hospital around six instead of eight like she usually does. I offered to pick her up.”

“They won’t let you see Elsa, honey.”

Kristoff knew she was only trying to save him the disappointment, but still he wished she’d be a bit more positive about it. “I can be charming when I want, a nurse might take pity on me.”

Anna chuckled and looked at him over her shoulder. “As long as they don’t confuse being charming with flirting…”

“You know better than anyone I have no game,” laughed Kristoff.

“I know,” Anna said with a smirk. “But some of those nurses are sleep deprived and haven’t seen the outside world in over twelve hours.”

“Ouch.”

“I love you.” Her merry voice said before Kristoff had the chance to complain.

“See, you say those words,” Kristoff said, standing behind her. “Though I don’t think you really know what they mean.”

“Shut up. You know I’m crazy about you.”

Kristoff grinned, knowing it was true. To his good luck, she was very much in love with him. He kissed her cheek and went back to his task at hand. He picked Anna’s bag and put some of her school supplies inside. He placed a couple of books in there as well and left it on the closest armchair. Being careful not to mix up the papers and documents scattered on the table, he placed one on top of the other, and moved them to the small coffee table in the living room. As he was placing them down in the right order, a small leaflet called his attention. He left it on the side and finished what he was doing before he picked it up again. He skimmed the content quickly. The different pictures printed on it piqued his curiosity even further.

“What’s this?” he asked, unsure why the whole leaflet was filled with images of people displaying violent acts.

Anna turned around, glancing quickly at him to see what he was talking about. As soon as she saw the red and blue pamphlet, Anna’s face paled. “Oh, umm… Nothing. You can put that away. Food will be ready soon.”

“IED?” Kristoff read out loud. “What's ‘IED’?”

“It’s nothing,” Anna insisted. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dyscontrol syndrome.” Kristoff continued reading in silence for a while until a list of the common signs of the mental disorder were listed and he began reading them aloud: “Uncontrollable rage, shouting, threatening people… The list goes on and on. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like nothing. Can you imagine dealing with a person like this? I’d be on edge at all times.”

When Anna didn’t answer, Kristoff looked up. She was still looking in his direction, the plating of their food forgotten, but her eyes were fixed on the floor instead of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh?” Anna said, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before she turned around and picked up the plates in a hurry. “Yes. Of course. Just thinking.”

“About?” Kristoff wondered. He knew perfectly well there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“It doesn't matter.” Anna placed the food on the table and looked up with a nervous smile.

Kristoff skimmed the rest of the information written and noticed there was a phone number circled at the very end. This was all the confirmation he needed to know there was something troubling Anna. “What’s this about, Anna?”

“Okay…”

She hesitated and he felt sick at the pit of his stomach.

“First of all, don't get mad. Just listen.”

He glanced at the pictures on the leaflet once again and then tried to meet Anna’s eyes, afraid he’d see fear written in them. “Anna… I’ve been irritable these past few weeks. More distant. But it hasn’t been that bad, has it? I mean, the lack of sleep and constantly worrying about Elsa has taken a toll on me, I know, but I would never— I don’t recall doing any of these—”

Anna gasped and, without hesitation, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Honey, no.” She said with a sad smile. She placed her hands on top of his, crumpling the piece of paper and throwing it to the floor. “You’ve never done anything that can be considered even remotely violent.”

He looked at her hands, still holding his before he dared meet her eyes. “If I ever raised my voice at you, I swear I—”

“This has nothing to do with you. I’d say I’m way more violent than you could ever be,” Anna chuckled.

Her small smile and the tender love in her eyes helped Kristoff understand she was being honest and he breathed out in relief. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he ever behaved in such a deplorable way.

Bending down, he picked the crumpled pamphlet and showed it to Anna once again. “Then what’s this?”

Anna glanced at the paper once more, finally noticing the red circle. She sighed nervously and guided Kristoff back to the closest chair. “The other day I ran into Marshall's mother,” she began to explain. “Well, I didn't run into her. We were at her house after all. You can't run into someone in their own home, can you?”

“Anna,” Kristoff warned, knowing she was sidetracking.

“Right, right.” She patted the air between them. “I was waiting for Marshall to get ready before we went back to the hospital and she—”

“When was this?”

“The day I asked Marshall to look after Elsa. Anyway, she began talking to me. She mentioned how being allowed to see Elsa would help Marshall with…” With a nod of her head, Anna pointed to the pamphlet he was still holding. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I asked the campus librarian if there were any books about this disorder. He suggested I’d better talk to the university counsellor.”

“And I guess you did.” It was clear that’s where Anna had gotten the pamphlet in the first place.

“I think she was concerned about my well-being and ended up circling the emergency number for me.”

Breathing in deeply, Kristoff pinched the brink of his nose and breathed out slowly. He was doing his best to remain calm, but life kept insisting things had to be hard. Permanently hard. And difficult. And unbearably complicated. “What exactly did the counsellor say about this?” he asked, smacking the folded paper on the table.

“Umm… It’s a mental disorder. The person suffering from it has no control over their violent outbursts.”

Biting his lower lip, Kristoff took a moment to understand what it all meant. “You're telling me Marshall could impulsively attack someone with no control whatsoever?”

“His mother said it's in remission,” Anna offered, hoping that would help him stay calm.

Her worried smile did nothing to help, however. “Anna, you’ve seen the way he acts. It doesn't sound like remission to me.”

“I know. I know.” Anna repeated, as she rubbed her face. She was finally letting the overly optimistic mask slip. And once it did, Kristoff was surprised to see how truly concerned she was. “That’s why I can’t stop thinking about it. What if I made a mistake? Do you think I made a mistake? What if Kai was right? I mean, look at this.” She grabbed the crumpled paper once again and began reading out loud. “Outbursts are, more often than not, too extreme for the situation. They occur on and off unannounced, causing major distress for everyone involved.

“When she said he had an ‘explosive disorder’, I thought she meant he got mad from time to time. Madder than the average person, sure. But I never thought…” She trailed off, stopping to think before her eyes met his filled with trepidation. “What about the night he tried to beat the crap out of Hans? Do you think he was being serious?”

“Anna…”

“What about him getting fired? Kai and Nielsen said he got into a fight. Didn’t they mention him beating someone up to a pulp?” Kristoff had no chance to answer before she continued, “I’m so sorry, Kristoff. I shouldn't have told Nielsen about him. I should've kept my mouth shut for once.”

“Wait no,” Kristoff said, holding Anna’s hand and stopping her tirade before her anxiety blew things out of proportion. “I won’t let you do this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, too tense to even try to understand what he was trying to say.

Only then Kristoff noticed her eyes welling up with tears and he tried to remain calm and offer Anna some comfort. “I'm not letting you take the blame. We all agreed he was a good choice. Even Nielsen said he was our best option… Perhaps, you did the right thing, Anna. We both know Marshall wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.” He waited for her to nod before he continued. “Elsa’s been friends with him for over three years now. She seems to know he’s got a temper, she’s used to it.”

“It’s not just a temper, Kristoff.”

He grabbed the leaflet once more and read the most important details once again. “Not once has Elsa mentioned anything like this. Perhaps it's not this bad.” He looked up and noticed Anna staring at him with an incredulous expression. “What?”

Anna put her hand on top of Kristoff’s, caressing his knuckles. “I’d like to stay positive, and I’m glad you’re trying as well… It’s just— I was certain you would freak out when you found out about this.”

“I am freaking out.” Kristoff laughed humorlessly. “I guess I’m trying not to let this change things. Marshall is helping, isn't he? He’s been doing exactly what he was told. Nielsen trusts him and mum is finally allowing herself to sleep.”

“Maybe you’re right. He seems calmer now,” agreed Anna. “It has helped him, just like Lena said.”

“Who’s Lena?”

“Marshall’s mother.” Anna chuckled.

Kristoff nodded and they both stayed silent, wondering if continuing to trust Marshall was in fact a good idea. Anna was the first to interrupt their pensive mood.

“What about later on? When this is all over…”

“There isn’t much we can do,” admitted Kristoff. “I don't think this will change the way Elsa feels about the guy. I'll try to keep an eye open. Talk to him if I ever get the chance.”

“But what if—”

“I’m no better than my aunt and uncles if I say Elsa is better off without him in her life.”

From the very first night, Marshall realised there was a change in the atmosphere in the early morning hours. Even in the remote room he could hear the sound of silence at the break of dawn. It was a strange feeling, if he thought about it. Under any other circumstances, he would have loved the peace and quiet. With Elsa unconscious by his side, he couldn't say he enjoyed it anymore. It reminded him of the deafening silence of the witching hour when he was a kid. Dreadfully quiet.

For this reason, he was very much surprised when a voice interrupted the silence for a second time that night.

“Any changes?” Nielsen’s voice echoed in the small room and Marshall had to blink a few times to make sure the man was actually standing by the door.

He had lowered his guard, it seemed. He hadn’t heard him getting closer, even when he had spent most part of the night alert of any undesirable visitors lurking in the hall. Had he fallen asleep, perhaps? It didn't seem likely.

Knowing the old doctor was a man who didn't like wasting time, he glanced at Elsa quickly, trying to find anything worth mentioning. She was still resting peacefully. The machines kept the air flowing and her heart rate in check, like they had done all night.

Nielsen watched him expectantly, while Gerda waited just outside the door for the man to move and let her into the room.

“Nothing. I know it takes time for a person to start responding,” he said, feeling chattier than usual. Tiredness did that to him at times. “But I’ll be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping she’d start regaining consciousness during the night.”

Nielsen nodded and walked into the room. Gerda followed suit and greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Here, allow me.” Marshall stood up, ignoring the stiffness in his legs, and offered Gerda the only chair in the room. He knew she was there to stay, even when there was still two hours left before her shift. He couldn’t blame the woman, though. As soon as Nielsen had informed them Elsa would eventually come out of the coma, he noticed the spark in her eyes, silently begging for the doctor to let her stay during the night.

Gerda thanked him and sat down, wasting no time to hold the hand he had previously been holding. He didn’t mind swapping places. There was no-one who’d offer Elsa more comfort than the old woman if she were to wake up.

A nurse walked into the room and requested him to move, drawing his attention back to the doctor. Nielsen was already checking Elsa’s vital signs and giving orders to the young girl who had just entered. The room felt even smaller than a moment before and he knew it was a matter of time until he was requested to leave.

“Do you need help?” he offered before he could think of anything better to say. “I could stay.”

“Go home and rest.” Nielsen dismissed him with a shake of his head.

There was no need for him to stay. No task to be fulfilled. Yet his feet felt glued to the ground; a knot tightening in his stomach at the idea of walking out of the room.

“Hålkesen,” Nielsen called his name, his voice a clear warning. “I said, go home.”

He looked at Elsa once again. Her breathing was still matching the ventilator rate and there were no signs of her responding. She was still completely vulnerable and Marshall didn’t feel comfortable leaving her that day. At least until he was certain someone would stay by Elsa's side at all times.

“Could I talk to you, then? In private.”

This piqued not only Nielsen’s but Gerda’s curiosity. The nurse looked at him as well and he wondered what was so difficult to understand about the idea of privacy.

“Is it truly important?”

Marshall's silence and seriousness seemed to be enough for Nielsen to trust his word. And so, with a sigh he handed his pen to the nurse and motioned for him to step out of the room. “Update her chart, please.”

Before the doctor walked out, Marshall noticed the subtle gesture he made, intended for only Gerda to see.

After closing the door behind him, Nielsen crossed his arms and waited impatiently for Marshall to speak. “This better be important.”

What had happened in the middle of the night wasn’t serious. Perhaps Marshall was needlessly mistrusting people, but he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance when Elsa was involved. Thinking how best to explain his uneasiness, he took a moment before he spoke.

“A doctor came to see Elsa late at night. A nurse I’ve never seen before was accompanying him,” Marshall said, his voice barely over a whisper. “I know it may sound ridiculous, but I haven't seen them in the unit before.”

He expected Nielsen to tell him he was wasting his time or simply being foolish, yet the surprise in the man's eyes was tinted with concern.

“Who?”

“He introduced himself as Landvik. He asked questions about Elsa.” The crease between Nielsen’s eyebrows told Marshal he had done the right thing sharing his concerns. Massaging his neck to relieve some tension, he explained, “He asked about her recovery process and any perceptible changes I’ve seen in the last few days.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him all the necessary information was in the bed chart. The rest was between you and Elsa’s family.”

“Good,” Nielsen murmured. He stayed quiet for a while, his eyes fixed on the floor, thinking deeply. “Make sure that’s all he gets. All the information he needs is either in the chart or in my reports, as you said, clear?”

Marshall nodded, thinking what it all meant. Before he could ask, Nielsen turned around and headed to the room. So he stopped the doctor, once again. “Why would he come see Elsa personally? Why ask me these questions and not the team working in this unit? It makes no sense.”

Nielsen stopped, his hand on the door knob. He pondered for a while before he met Marshall’s eyes and said, “Use your head, kid. From a professional point of view, what’s the first thing that came to your mind when you found out about Elsa?”

“About her powers, you mean?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s impossible for her to do what she does. It makes no sense.”

“Exactly.”

“So, what?” He was trying to remain calm, but he didn’t like what Nielsen was implying. “You’re telling me he—”

A high-pitched scream coming from inside the room stopped Marshall before he could get any more information. Concern washed over both men and they ran into the room — their conversation forgotten.

“What’s going on?” Nielsen demanded to know.

The young nurse was pressed against the wall, pointing at Elsa’s bed. A shocked, frightened expression on her face.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Gerda repeated over and over as she got closer to the nurse. “Please calm down. This is what we talked about.”

As soon as Gerda saw the girl nod her head, she turned to Elsa and leaned closer, speaking softly. “Dear? Can you hear me?”

When Nielsen moved closer to Elsa’s bed, Marshall finally got the chance to see what had been causing all the chaos: Snowflake-patterned frost covered a quarter of the bed and it was slowly spreading to one of the legs of the bed.

The young girl seemed disturbed by the display of Elsa’s powers, and Marshall couldn’t really blame her. He had seen Elsa use her powers more than once already and he still had a hard time understanding them. It was a miracle the nurse had calmed down enough not to panic nor scream anymore.

“Step aside, please,” Nielsen told Gerda and reluctantly she obeyed.

“Elsa.” Nielsen called her name once, twice, before he asked, “can you hear me?”

There was no response so he moved closer, to try and check her pupil reflexes. As soon as he touched her face, her eyes opened wide. The icy blue of her eyes drawing everyone's attention.

“Elsa, over here.” Her eyes didn’t track Nielsen’s hand movement.

“Come closer,” he asked Gerda, and as soon as she walked in Elsa’s field of vision, her eyes fell on her.

A smile drew on Gerda’s face as her eyes brimmed with tears. Marshall breathed out in relief and felt positive things would turn out okay when the ice stopped spreading.

“I need you to blink twice if you can hear me clearly,” Nielsen instructed. Once again, however, Elsa didn’t respond, her eyes still fixed on Gerda. “Elsa?”

“Move to the side,” Nielsen requested Gerda. “Slowly. Away from her line of vision.”

“Nielsen, I—”

“Do as I say, please.”

When Elsa could no longer see Gerda, her eyes moved around the room, desperately trying to find her. Her eyes found Marshall’s then and hoping she'd recognise him, he smiled at her. This seemed to help her calm down until Nielsen stepped in between.

“Can you blink for me, Elsa?”

Losing sight of familiar faces seemed to set Elsa off and her breathing pattern increased rapidly. Steadily becoming laboured, above the ventilator’s rate.

“Don't be afraid. I need you to keep your eyes on me. Gerda is right beside you.”

“Doctor Nielsen, the ice.” The nurse pointed to the frost spreading fastly down the leg of the bed and onto the floor. She took a few steps back and Marshall thought it was best to help her before she panicked. Grabbing the nurse by the shoulders, he forced her out of the ice’s way and closer to the door, in case she wanted to leave.

Gerda moved Nielsen out of the way and held Elsa’s good hand, making sure she looked at her. “I'm here, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but you’re fine. Trust me.”

“The ice keeps spreading,” Marshall said calmly. Stating a fact with no intention of alarming anyone.

“Move.” Forcing Gerda to the side, Nielsen grabbed a syringe from the tray he had brought with him earlier and injected a small dose in Elsa’s IV.

Gerda’s face turned red and she did nothing to hide her disapproval. “Jonnas, what are you doing?”

“I wasn’t expecting her to be this responsive so soon.” He informed her. He seemed unfazed by his choice and Marshall had to count to ten not to snap at the man.

“We’ll run some tests. I’m positive we might be able to extubate her before she becomes fully conscious again.”

“She was responding accordingly, there was no need to—”

“I’m not going to take any risks.”

As soon as the ice began to melt, Nielsen called the nurse’s name and listed the steps he wanted her to follow. He explained the dose given to Elsa was small —just enough to keep her calm for no more than an hour or two— and he needed to make sure everything was in order before she woke up again.

When the nurse was about to leave the room, he called her back. “I’ll need you to restrain her, just to be safe.”

“Jonnas…” Gerda warned, displeased with the idea.

“It’s not up for debate.”

Marshall tightened his fists. But he managed to remain calm. If he were to lose control of his emotions, he’d risk losing his right to see Elsa. But that didn't mean he'd silently agree with Nielsen's idea.

“Stay with her at all times.” With that last order, Nielsen walked out of the room and Marshall followed. Perhaps he could speak with the man, change his last choice without a quarrel taking place

“Nielsen, I—”

“You go home.”

Marshal was about to yell at the man to listen to them, but Gerda placed a hand on his arm stopping him on time. Nielsen continued walking down the hall unaware of Marshall’s rage.

“It's best if you go,” Gerda said in a low voice. “I'll make sure she’s safe.”

Tightening his fists once again, Marshall took a few deep breaths and counted to ten, in English, Norwegian and French. When the lump in his throat disappeared, he looked at the old woman, who was looking back at him with concern. She understood his indignation. He could see it in her eyes. But unlike him, she knew better than to start a fight. Knowing it was best for everyone if he left, he apologised to Gerda and disappeared down the hall, ashamed of his behaviour.

Marshall walked out of the wards at a slow pace, trying hard to focus on anything but Nielsen's choices.

Once in the main reception, he informed Andrea, who had just started her shift, he was leaving. While he waited for her to check something he didn’t care about, he felt a hand tapping his shoulder. He cursed under his breath and turned around, hoping it wasn’t one of his ex-colleagues.

“Marshall,” Kristoff greeted him. “Have you seen my mother? She said she'd come back and— Is everything okay?” He asked as soon as they locked eyes. “Please, tell me she’s okay.”

Taking another deep breath, he nodded. Kristoff had nothing to do with him being annoyed and so he tried to put on a good face. Elsa was okay, after all. He needed to focus on that. And he needed Kristoff to know that was the case. “She's responding,” he said with a small smile.

“Thank goodness,” Kristoff breathed out in relief. “Do you think I could—”

“I doubt Nielsen will let you see her. I was just kicked out of the room.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

It was meant to be a joke, though Marshall should have known Kristoff would get suspicious. Playing dumb, he smiled again and nodded. “Yes. I'm just tired. I guess I don't know what I'm saying. Elsa's fine. Your mother's with her.”

He looked at the receptionist to make sure everything was in order, and once she told him he could leave, he began walking towards the main door.

“See you in a couple of hours,” he said, hoping not to drag the conversation any longer.

“Wait, Marshall,” Kristoff called after him, catching up with him by the door. “I want– Umm… Do you want to have breakfast?”

“What?”

“You’ve been looking after my sister for over four days now and we haven’t really spoken to one another. I haven’t even said thank you.”

“I haven’t got any money on me.”

“It’s on me,” Kristoff said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got an hour to kill before work and I could use the company.”

Marshall wanted to decline. Go home, take a shower and sleep. But deep down he knew it was best to accept the invitation.

I’m not even sure if this is what was supposed to happen in this chapter anymore. On Monday morning I sat down to write and edit a few scenes and dialogues I had, and somewhere along the way the characters began to make their own choices and here we are.

I’m glad they did, though. I really like the final result. It was time Anna and Kristoff could enjoy an evening on their own, even if they spent more time worrying than anything else.

Thank you all for your kind reviews. I love you all and I promise I’ll respond to all of them soon.

Take care and don’t forget to leave a little something in the box below. It always makes my day, week and month.

Read you soon!

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#søsken #sosken #elsa #anna #kristoff #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #chapter 51 #modern AU

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