#i think this project is partially a way for me to find hope after going through the corporate grinders for 5 years lol

[crobinet]

been trying to think of a cohesive like thesis statement for corpus city cgl (cyberpunk dystopia headworld/world building project) and here's where I'm at

At first glance, the city is overwhelmed with problems that are rooted deeply within its systems and institutions, but the stories are focused on people helping and supporting each other as they navigate the complexities of the city and fight to make it a better place to live.

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

mouthwashing responsibility au rambles below cut 🫡

(spoiler warning for the actual game obviously)

- even though jimmy got deservedly knocked out by anya and thrown into the cryopod early on, the crash still does happen. it's a freak accident this time, like maybe a piece of space debris just happened to hurtle right into them without time to dodge. it's like the tulpar is destined to crash. but this time it's a story about a group of people finding hope and strength in each other and finding what they themselves can be capable of in a time of crisis. btw i just mean curly, anya, swansea, and daisuke. i am NOT repenting jimmy. he ain't "fixing" shit.

- i'm sorry for frying curly again even though this is supposed to be an au with a happier ending 😭 the way his loss of autonomy reflects anya's own loss of it, making him feel firsthand the suffering she went through in a way, felt too important to just remove. curly's injuries aren't as terrible as in the original timeline since swansea rescued him earlier. and by "not as terrible" i mean he only loses a leg and not all of his limbs. he will get some function in his hands eventually and anya teaches him sign language to help him communicate (she teaches the others too).

- speaking of anya, she really shows her stuff as a nurse (even in the original timeline she does, managing to keep curly alive like that). she treats curly and swansea and is much more of a pillar of strength for the crew than she herself realizes. pre-crash and post-jimmy-getting-fired, she was able to relax and open up more with everyone, building a stronger bond. when the crash happens, anya is of course terrified and hella stressed, but now she knows she has people who have her back, and it helps. she can be more confident in herself without a certain someone being there to belittle and hurt her. this time when she has to deal with something difficult, something traumatizing, she has people to support her. in this au, she is not pregnant because if she was, i don't see how keeping the baby would be a good thing for her. and i don't want her to have to deal with that situation without the proper medical supplies on top of everything else. she's been through enough.

- btw there is no shipping in this au. i personally really don't see how it could happen between anyone on the crew. if there was some sort of spark between anya and curly, it's definitely gone now and won't happen again. the most they'll be are friends (although the friendship/trust will have to be built from the ground up again after everything that's happened with jimmy). the only ship here is the tulpar.

- i know daisuke is seen as a "dumb kid" but i really don't think that's the case. we are seeing him thru jimmy's perspective mostly after all and jimmy is the definition of an unreliable narrator. i headcanon daisuke as having adhd like me who tends to lose focus on tasks easily because your brain is just going 102929 miles a minute and wandering to all sorts of places like me. he feels like someone who doesn't exactly know where they want to go in life like me. also he's definitely a hawaii kid born and raised and talks pidgin sometimes like me except i lost the pidgin :(. i'm totally not projecting my asian ass on the asian boy or anything. BUT ANYWAY i wanted to give daisuke more stuff to do and a chance to prove to himself that he can do these things, he can step up. so that's partially why i made swansea burn his hands rescuing curly. daisuke can now be filled with Determination and be swansea's hands in repairing things as he heals. it's going to be hard and it's going to be frustrating for both parties and sometimes they'll get upset at each other. but it will inevitably be a great bonding experience for the two. i cannot resist the call for more father-son moments.

- swansea my beloved. i am so sorry for burning your beautiful hands please forgive 😔🙏 i have to make my faves suffer a little. swansea's hands will heal up eventually and he'll be able to use them again, but there will be scars. i think him having to guide daisuke with doing repairs n stuff on the ship as his hands recover gives him a mission. something to distract him from completely falling into despair and alcoholism. that man is hanging on by a thread but by god he's going to help get these kids through this. they've all grown closer since jimmy was sacked and swansea feels a sort of responsibility towards protecting anya, daisuke and curly as the oldest one there. it's the dad instincts y'know? on the real hard days, sometimes swansea thinks about cracking open a bottle of mouthwash, but he holds back because he feels he needs to stay strong for the crew. however he does have to learn that he can't shoulder everything and that he can rely on others. him having no choice but to have daisuke take over his tasks is a good way for him to learn that, i think. swansea is definitely a pillar of strength in this and the rest of the crew have a lot of affection for him (and vice versa even if swansea won't admit it). can you tell i really like swansea. he is such a foil to jimmy—a guy who has fucked up a lot in his life but actually acknowledges his mistakes and is trying his hardest to be a better person. aghh swansea i love you 💛💛

- after the crash happens, the cryopod room becomes inaccessible, so nobody is able to check on the state of jimmy in there. so they don't see that the crypod he's in eventually fails from damage and he escapes. this happens a couple weeks into the crash. jimmy is still pissed about everything and still can't see how he's done anything wrong (this is because he is a delusional asshole). in fact, he feels like he's the one who's been wronged and betrayed by everyone on the crew and he wants revenge. there will be a final confrontation between jimmy and the crew. spoilers: jimmy loses. i'm just undecided on who finishes it. it would be fitting if anya shot him, but i'm not sure that's something she'd necessarily want to do. she chose to be in the medical field after all. don't get me wrong, i think she would pull the trigger if it meant protecting the others. but i'd hate to have her kill, because even if jimmy deserves it, anya is a healer and would still probably feel guilty about it. i don't want to put even more shit on her plate. so i think swansea is the one to put jimmy down in the end. with the axe of course. i think he'd feel less guilty about doing it because it's something he's wanted to do since anya first told him about jimmy. oooh what if jimmy gets his hands on the gun, but daisuke tackles him, making him drop it, and anya gets it and shoots jimmy in the shoulder or leg or something to get him off of daisuke, and then swansea comes in with the axe to finish him off. that could be fun. that way anya won't have to actually kill but she'll still get to shoot jimmy. bless.

- the crew gets rescued eventually, but it's going to be a few months because pony express is a nightmare company. i'm honestly still not sure if pony express is even the one who will rescue them or even bother to look. i'm tempted to just have another ship happen across them by some miracle and help. real tempted to make that ship The Unreliable and turn this into a Mouthwashing x The Outer Worlds crossover quite honestly since both settings share similarities (megacorporations, cryosleep, etc). but idk. it's not like i can just write a fanfic or anything since writing is harder for me and who knows how long it will be before i even draw the idea. it's just yet another self-indulgent daydream for now.

[letyhide]

I cannot stop thinking about yesterday's ZamWaffles conversation.

It's obvious that Zam doesn't wanna help Bacon in his efforts to cover the server spawn in wardens (he also turned down Bacon when he suggested pushing his teammates into Wardens, to get more kills lol). But Zam also made it clear that he wants Bacon to succeed in his true goal of understanding Subz.

That talk is perhaps what made everything regarding Bacon's goals click in Zams head. And it it all comes down to both of their understanding of LifeSteal as a server.

And HOW can it NOT be about that? when we know now that Subz's actual reason for the Warden attack at spawn was rooted on his hatred for the server's current state. As he believes that the inactivity is proof of the creators losing passion for LifeSteal (he made a point to mention that everyone has diffrent projects going on, he claims that LifeSteal is not anyone's main priority, therefore keeping it going is like dragging around a dead corpse).

People saw Subz’s wardens as a problem to quickly overcome or stop (even in un-creative ways, asking chat) rather than taking it as an opportunity to tell a story, or do anything truly interesting, which, in a way proved Subz right. And it's partially why I don't blame Subz for leaving the server (As he was burned out either way).

The battle against Inactivity is one Bacon and Zam (and Mapicc) know all too well. Making people care has been their goal. And it's so intresting for Bacon to be the one following in Subz's footsteps. If Subz's efforts were made out of disdain for the server, Bacon is made out of pure love and care for it. Which is why I don't know if he will ever TRULY understand Subz's goal as their approach to the server and their ideas on it sound so opposite... yet... here we are.

When Subz's base was found and destroyed the way it did, I don't blame him for giving up, and the way people first reacted to Bacon's Wardens seemed very similar, which is why I'm really glad Bacon is gonna continue with this project despite the many hearts lost. It's almost like he's giving the server a second chance. And that conversation we heard yesteday is really giving me hope.

Well, it makes sense that Zam is one who now recognises the new potential in the wardens. After his first intentional kill the other day being on Bacon, which he said felt like a mistake (in some ways it was, in some ways it wasn't). After yesterday's convo, I feel like Zam is gonna take Bacon as a more serious enemy (he now even says that he finds him more intresting than Flame ever was... which again, is giving me HOPE.) And it's clear how they realistically have the same goal in mind. Making people care. Because we now know that they already do. Entertaining this conflict in intresting and engaging ways, rather than seeing it as a "backdrop" to something else, hopefully will make people care about Subz’s true message to the server.

Most people are against Bacon because they don't understand him. Zam is against Bacon because he does. It's a rivalry that comes from deep understanding of eachother and love for the server.

[prettyinpwn]

Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?

Ah, see, this is the part where I totally self-promote share this wonderful, totally not owned by me ask blog reply: https://askthestans.tumblr.com/post/756343677567336448/hey-stan-can-you-tell-us-stories-about-your

But here's a full summary of my headcanons on the guy:

Older brother to Ford and Stan. I know the timeline's screwy with that baby in the background of ATOTS, but I personally just headcanon that that's some other baby and Shermie's not around in the house because he's off in the military.

I definitely picture him being in the Navy. I picture he's got sailor's tattoos. And actual cool ones, no offense to Ford.

I can't find the reference for the life of me, but I swear to God I once read from Hirsch (I think it was a tweet?) that Stan learned the "you cuddle up to a girl, knock her up, suddenly your life's fallin' apart" oddly specific joke in Little Gift Shop of Horrors from Filbrick. Going with my headcanon that Shermie's the older brother, that means he's the oops baby.

Because of that, and Filbrick's general suckage, Shermie struggled a lot with his dad like the Stans did. I think like Stan, he wasn't especially exceptional - or at least in a way that could make them money like Ford's brains - and Filbrick might have projected a whole "my life fell apart after I had Shermie" thing on the poor guy. So... I don't imagine Shermie got along real well with Filbrick. I also headcanon the large gap in years between Shermie and the Stans as Filbrick's hesitation to have more kids. I think Caryn would have wanted more, and eventually convinced him to have another (and whaddaya know, two for the price of one!), but Filbrick all over just gives me the vibe of a guy that never wanted to be a father, and Shermie knew that even as a kid, so he felt rather unwanted.

In terms of personality, I see Shermie as like... a straight laced golden retriever. Like a pure heart of gold "sees an old lady struggling to walk across the street and gets out and helps her" type guy. Being Mabel and Dipper's grandfather, I think he shares Mabel's optimism but Dipper's sense of right and wrong, which is what makes him a bit of a square (see the Ask the Stans post linked above). Even so, he's not outgoing like Mabel, he's introverted like Ford and Dipper. Like... people picture introverts as moody and quiet with dark thoughts, but when Shermie's quiet he just has happy fantasies like his granddaughter, Mabel (except replace hamster balls and hot boys with, idk... probably baseball or a movie he saw one time and loved).

I see him as a family pillar of support type guy, too. As the older brother in a poor family, I think a lot of responsibility was put on his shoulders. He definitely helped run the pawn shop (though Filbrick got irritated whenever he gave too generous of a discount), and made extra money on the side for his family with a side job. Going into the military was not his choice - given the era, it was probably a draft - and he sent his money home. Caryn probably did Tarot readings on him every night between his letters home hoping they always turned up positive.

He sent little letters home to Stan and Ford, too. He'd make Stan promise to protect Ford for him since he couldn't while he was out at sea, which is what inspired Stan to be such a protector. Then, he made Ford promise to help Stan with his homework like he used to, but once again, couldn't while in the Navy. And he'd tell them about his "epic ocean adventures" to gloss over the horrors of what he was actually going through, which I like to headcanon partially inspired their obsession with fixing up the Stan-O-War so they could have epic ocean adventures someday like their big brother. It wasn't until they were older that they realized, oh... yeah, he wasn't swashbuckling with pirate ghosts in the US Navy. :(

Physically, I think he's the one who looks the most like Caryn. Stan and Ford are like Filbrick short king copy+pastes, but I picture Shermie more tall and lanky like their mother, and has her aquiline nose. Coloring-wise, he's a Pines: brown hair and brown eyes. And sailor tattoos, can't forget those.

I feel like he had to be a pseudo father-figure to the Stans because of Filbrick. Filbrick wasn't the type to teach them how to ride a bike or play a sport, scare "monsters" out of their closet, bring them home for dinner from the beach, etc. Like he fulfilled more of the emotional role of a father to them that Filbrick couldn't.

With Stan, I think he played defense for the kid against Filbrick. I don't think Shermie would have directly gotten angry with Filbrick, especially given his golden retriever-ness and the era, but he defended Stan in little ways. Say Stan broke something, Shermie might have stepped in and tried to smooth things over before Filbrick could get angry. But boy oh boy, if he saw anyone else picking on Stan (or Ford, for that matter), better watch out. He might be a golden retriever, but he's still a Pines, so he's got that whole, "Mess with my family and I'll send you to the hospital." thing going on.

With Ford, I think Shermie was like Stan to him, protecting him and generally trying to make him not feel weird for his polydactyly and nerdiness. While on the surface I think Shermie and Stan might have bonded more because they had more shared surface level interests, I think Ford really looked up to Shermie, especially since Shermie was - as an introvert - the closest to Ford in personality in their family. Shermie wholly supported his love of weirdness, even if he didn't understand what the hell he was talking about half the time, and often would go along with him and Stan on monster hunts as kids just to make sure they got home safe, even if he had no interest in the paranormal himself.

As far as flaws, I can see him having inherited Filbrick's temper and absolutely hating himself for it. Like normally he's a sweet, happy-go-lucky guy, but when he blows up he feels like such an ass afterwards because it reminds himself of his father. His golden retriever personality might have been a way of him trying his best to form an identity far, FAR away from Filbrick, so when parts of Filbrick come out, he feels gross. The Stans look the most like Filbrick, but Shermie - for as nice and sweet as he is - inherited more of Filbrick's bad personality traits than they did.

When Stan got kicked out, Shermie was out at sea and their mother hadn't told him about it, feeling awful she'd let Filbrick just kick Stan out. So when he got home, he was like, "Where the hell is Stan?", and Caryn had to tell him. Shermie always blamed himself for not being there to play defense for Stan like he always had in the past, but at the same time, he was P I S S E D that Stan broke Ford's science fair project. And given that Caryn felt guilty and didn't want to speak against Filbrick and Ford's opinions, and Filbrick is a dick, and Ford was still freshly wounded from the whole fight and disappointment... well, he got a biased view of Stan. He felt so betrayed by Stan for decades for having "hurt" Ford and the family. I think this would explain why he wouldn't have gone to Stan's "funeral" later on. Cue him feeling like an asshole after the events of Gravity Falls and Stan and Ford and/or the niblings tell their grandfather what went down the last three decades.

Even so, I think he tried to find Stan afterwards in his drifter grifter years, but to no avail. Stan didn't want Shermie to find him and disappoint him, and all the evidence Shermie did find seemed to prove what Ford and Filbrick said about Stan, so... :(

He worked in the IRS for his career after the Navy. It made Stan barf when he found out. But Shermie just wanted a good old normal family life and a boring job after what he went through in the war.

As for the way he interacts with Dipper and Mabel, just... pure cuteness. Picture the most stereotypical sweethearted grandfather. Stan and Ford are like the cool old relatives, but Shermie is the big softie old relative. He buys Mabel craptons of arts and crafts and knitting supplies for birthdays and holidays, and he buys Dipper whatever paranormal stuff or video games he wants. He fully sees Dipper as like a little Ford and a lot like his own son (D&M's dad), but he loves Mabel too, of course.

If I think of any more, I'll be sure to add them to this post. :D

[hooffuloftootsierolls]

Spoilers from leaks for S2(no pictures, just me rambling)

First of all, it's funny in the saddest way to see people depicting Abel and Adam having a healthy relationship with one another and Abel mourning his father. You guys are gonna shatter when S2 releases. Second of all,

I keep thinking about Abel's behavior towards his dad's passing.

In the S2 leaks, Abel only mentions his dad a handful of times, and it's never quite.. with grief. Still, interestingly enough, I feel like he's acting almost like he's trying to be angry or sad about his father's death.

He refers to his dad as "dearly departed", mentions that he's partial on continuing the Exterminations because even though he dislikes confrontation, "they did sorta kinda kill [his] dad a little bit, so... maybe?" and also he tries to retrieve one of Adam's guitars from Adam's quarters to "remember him by" before a grief-crazed Lute screams at him to get out and tries to hit him with the guitar. But this is all said in a normal, unaffected tone, not the kind of way you'd expect someone to talk about their late father.

Overall pretty apathetic behavior, right?

But what intrigues me is the fact that Abel doesn't even necessarily need to act sad.

Lute says it herself, nobody else cares about Adam being dead. This could just be Lute's view, but she doesn't seem wrong(which I am SO pissed about). Emily seems happy as a lark, Sera is moping about the Exterminations, everyone else seems more worried about the Exterminations being kept from them/the possibility of an uprising, and only think of Adam as an example of an angel dying at the claws of a demon, not an actual mourned loss.

Ok, so nobody cares, and I doubt anybody would call out Adam's secondborn son for not caring either. After all, wouldn't that just reinforce a reasoning for their apathy? If his son doesn't care, Adam must have been a real monster undeserving of any grief. After all, according to Lute, Adam didn't even like Abel. So why is Abel still trying to act like he cares instead of just admitting he doesn't feel sad about his dad's death?

I'm going to reference a line from one of my favorite pieces of literature; "And he remembered thinking then that if she died, he was certain he wouldn't cry. For it would be the dying of an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image, and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death"(Fahrenheit 451, PDF page 44). (Wow imagine referencing a philosophical classic in a Hazbin Hotel ramble-) To sum this quote up, the main character feels less horrified at the possible death of his wife, and more horrified at how screwed up it is that he wouldn't feel grief.

I think Abel has a similar situation. He's struggling with trying to grieve, trying to convince others that he's grieving, because he feels guilty about his lack of emotions. But still, why? What reason would he have to feel guilty if Adam didn't like him?

This is where things are less speculation and more just me trying to desperately find ways to project onto characters. The chances of this being nitpicky and semantic are through the roof, but Lute's wording of "Adam didn't even fucking like you" suggests Adam never liked him, but she still didn't use the word never. Also she said Adam didn't like him, which isn't the same as dislike, it's just a lack of like. I know this is hyperspecific and far-fetched but work with me here. What if Adam and Abel had a healthy relationship at some point, but they grew apart somehow?

Let's talk about Abel's time alive. Now let's be honest here, Viv is probably gonna find a way to make Adam seem like a horrible asshole father. Obviously he wouldn't be the best dad, but he was literally the first human father. In existence. He had absolutely no frame of reference for how to care for children, him and Eve were just winging it while already struggling to survive by themselves. Please for the love of God, I hope Vivzie doesn't try to paint him as a horrible father. I want to imagine he had a good relationship with his children. Abel might have known Adam as a loving father once, and that would explain why he would feel guilty for not feeling grief. So what about them growing apart?

Well think about how Abel died-- he got his skull fucking bashed in with a rock by his older brother. That had to be traumatizing. With Adam not seeing his son until Adam passed-- maybe even longer, if it's still true that Adam is the first human soul, because maybe Abel ended up manifesting in Heaven later which is a whole nother theory-- and also Abel traumatized by his gruesome death and possibly repressing a lot of memories from life, I wouldn't be surprised if the two were just... disconnected when they saw each other again. Adam didn't like Abel. He had at one point, but now they were distant and felt like strangers with each other.

Still, throughout it all, Abel still knew Adam was his dad and he felt they had been close at some point, so when Adam died this part may or may not be me writing my own feelings surrounding my grief of my late father he felt kind of horrified with himself, that his years of disconnection with his father actually led to him feeling apathetic about his passing. He struggled to bring out any emotion or feeling of grief even if he tried to play the part and act like he was mourning, but all the same also didn't want to reflect on his relationship with his father because he didn't want to feel the anguish of losing his dad.

But let's be realistic here, we're talking about Hazbin Hotel, a show that is desperately trying to make a commentary on things it knows nothing about. More likely, Adam is a shitty father, he never liked Abel, him and Abel never had a good connection, and their relationship was so distant that Abel genuinely couldn't care less about his dead dad and is just trying to act like he does for some unknown reason.

But fuck Vivziepop I'm gonna sit over here in my corner and make these characters more complex by projecting my own experiences and emotions onto them bada boom

[itz-pandora]

i hope u know that i am so so fascinated with ur android shadow in the misc au, i love him dearly and i need literally every morsel of lore about him please infodump about him as much as you want 😭💖

-🤖

AW IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE HIM, THAT MAKES ME FEEL SO JOYOUS!!

In his debut, he's mostly following directives, trying to be the soldier he was coded to be, until Amy helps him remember his original directive, to help others. It activates his failsafe, MARIA, and he's flooded with false memories of her. This causes him to help the rest save the day!

Shadow doesn't learn he's an android until Heroes, (which he might learn through Neo), and it's a TOTAL mindfuck. It really makes him feel awful, and that negative feeling gets multiplied exponentially after Prime, where Shadow gets reprogrammed by Nine (which causes him to be deathly afraid of Tails). Shadow, who had grown very close to Amy at this point, decided to separate himself from her as to not hurt her, since he feels like he can't truly ever feel love like she can love him, because of how heavy the weight of being an android isn't him.

SHTH rolls around, and him and Hazard are the protags! This is where Shadow learns he's partially organic, with Black Arms dna. They both end up getting briefly mind controlled by Black Doom, which is TERRIFYING!!!! Shadow literally can't remember anything while being controlled because it doesn't register in his system! Just results in corrupted files. This cements to Shadow that he's never truly free, that the most autonomous part about him is still something that's controlled, just another drone.

He projects his insecurities onto Emerl when Sonic Battle happens. I think I might make this the part where Shadow gets really broken down, to a point the self-repair of the black arms in his circuits just takes too long, so despite protesting, Sonic brings Shadow to Tails for repairs, and Shadow has a PANIC ATTACK. He's actually so terrified of Tails tampering with him that his system overheats and he crashes. After Shadow is repaired, he's less afraid of Tails, because he realized he'd been too harsh, but he's angry at Sonic, and he feels so violated from getting repaired without his consent when Sonic KNOWS what happened with Nine!

Mephiles in 06 doesn't help the feeling of being artificial LMAO, but I don't have specific ideas yet! Shadow gets MAULED in Unleashed by Sonic btw lmao. Also, I don't have ideas for forces yet!

I dunno when this happens, but Shadow does Sonic's top surgery! Shadow wants to go into the medical field so doing this didn't take too much convincing.

After Forces, Metal is freed from the Eggman Empire, and Amy finds her. Amy gets Tails to repair Metal, and she ends up getting cosmetic upgrades to look like Neo! Shadow feels conflicted about Neo, but takes solace in the shared artificialness. Neo dates Amy, and Shadow feels conflicted, since he wants them to be happy, but a part of him never quite got over Amy. Neo and Shadow become close, and Neo is the one who suggests the polycule! They're all nice together 💕

Shadow, Amy and Metal move to Earth when Sonic retires as a hero! (Mobius is different from Earth). Shadow takes college classes to be in the medical field. Even though technically he could download information directly into his memory, he prefers learning in an organic way to feel more real.

When Eclipse comes to Mobius, Eclipse wants to be social with Shadow and Hazard, but struggles. When Eclipse loses his temper he accidentally mind controls Shadow and Hazard in the same way Black Doom did. After a while, he stopped, and Shadow and Hazard were terrified of him. Shadow spent so many years trying to convince himself if autonomy just to be stripped of it again and needing to start back at square one. He has to take a few days off college because it leaves him barely functional due to the sheer stress and trauma he relives at once.

And that's most of what I have planned!!!

[empty-like-my-soul]

IM BACK IN THE FREAKING BUILDING

do y'all ever think about the survivors of Evo/the Evo collapse and what happened to them

And when I say survivors, I don't mean the guys that got trapped in a death game time loop I mean like. The guys who basically got away unscathed. Like, what happened to Zee? What happened to Salem? What happened to Tom, or Mini? What happened to Netty??

I find this line of thought really interesting, so I prepared some headcannons based on how their channels are doing. Also I'm anxious so I'm including this disclaimer: THESE ARE ALL HEADCANNONS SO THEY'RE NOT TO BE INTERPRETED AS CANON. I DON'T KNOW WHAT EXPLANATION THERE IS IN CANNON, IF THERE IS ANY. Also Netty is still Martyn's wife in my Evo headcannon verse because I love her and Martyn is a convenient stepping stone

So first, let's start with the most boring: Salem is dead. I'm sorry Salem lovers, but her last video published is Evo and I can't find anything else. She died during the tragedy, it was inevitable for at least one person to die during that anyway. o7 Salem, gone too soon.

Next, Tom(ohawk) just kinda... fell off the face of the earth. Salem was one of his friends, same with Grian, who was taken, and in his grief he let himself loose contact with the others. He wasn't all that social anyway, so going off the grid wasn't hard at all. Nowadays he's doing... Something. I'm not sure what, but I'm sure that's just the way he would like it. He knows nothing about the rekidnapping or whatever.

Third, Zee buries himself in his work to try and ignore the problem. He keeps on inventing things, working on projects, and doing scientific testing at an almost frantic rate. He's burning himself out, surely, but it's better to die creatively than to think about what happened. Workoholic man who honestly terrifies me.

Fourth, Mini goes out and makes new friends. He needs a support system, but he can't bear to think about his old friends anymore after that. So he makes new friends, and only partially works though his grief. He regrets leaving them behind but he's happier now, and isn't that all that matters?

Fifth, and finally, Netty. She makes the great choice of staying, coping, and grieving with her best friend and her husband (Jimmy and Martyn respectively). It's going well, and they're making great, if non-linear, progress on their healing journey. There are always bad days, but together, they work through it. And then Martyn and Jimmy get re-kidnapped, and she's alone. She notifies the proper authorities, tells Martyn's old yogscast friends, and tries to find them. After about a year, everyone gives up. She tries to keep hope but it's lost all too easily every day they don't come back. She eventually manages to move on and live her life despite everything that happened to her. Whatever happens afterwards happens.

Anyway, that's all I have. At least, until the 21st... Hehehe

[bijoumikhawal]

Books I am planning to read- tagged by @amarocit

1. Imagined Communities by Benedict Anderson. I was recommended this by my good friend @2percentsugar after he read the two essays I've put out so far on natiophagy. I suspect that the "global" analysis is probably gonna disappoint me somewhat but it seems interesting

2. Nations and states: an enquiry into the origins of nations by Hugh Seton-Watson, picked up a pdf for similar reasons to the above through a commie pan-Africanist library that had the former

3. Folktales of Egypt by Hasan M. El-Shamy. I got this book last year and still have only partially read it. Finding any book discussing Egyptian folktales is really difficult, due to a lot of academic focus being biased away from doing so. I like folklore and fairytales a lot (I grew up with the Grimms and Stories for Children by Singer, as well as a few other anthologies). The trouble is I want to post some of these online and I have to type them out manually when I do! It ends up distracting me.

4. Egyptian & Sudanese Folk-Tales (Oxford Myths and Legends), retold by Helen Mitchnik. Not ae excited about this one the way I am about El-Shamy's. He includes ethnographic and contextual info about the storytellers he interviewed and pretty directly transcribes what he was told. This is a "retelling" by an outsider thar doesn't include that information. Still might be fun.

5. Ghost Riders of Upper Egypt by Hans Winkler. I got this as part of my research into and theorization about adorcism in Northeast Africa, but put it off because it's not about zar (my specific interest area) and because I found out the author was a German in the 1940s (and while no one wants to detail what he did, yes, he was)! I have read some of it and know its got useful information but I'm not especially happy about it.

6. Chromophobia by David Batchelor. I was recommended this as part of a discussion about white supremacy, art, and fashion. It's quite concept I'm familiar with, but I'm curious to see what insight an academic analysis has.

7. Seth, God of Confusion by H. Te Velde. I've gotten interested in dissecting Set like a bug and the Chaos (sometimes feminine and full of raw power) vs Order (masculine and needs to control power) dichotomy since finding out pagan Egyptians occasionally conflated Set with HaShem, especially in Late Antiquity. This usually wasn't positive, as by this point Set wasn't viewed as a nuanced figure, but i love taking my shame and turning into something to strut around in. Also because I dislike dualism and wanna break it with a hammer.

8. On My Right Michael, On My Left Gabriel: Angels in Ancient Jewish Culture by Mika Ahuvia. A lot of people claim "angels aren't important in Judaism" to differentiate from Christianity, but that blatantly isn't true. I know a bit about Apocalyptic literature and modern folklore, and hope this will be another addition to all that.

9. Ban of the Bori. Part of my zar research, as zar was very directly influenced by Bori during the 19th and early 20th century (to the point where "zar-bori" is used to refer to a broader adorcist system stretching across Sahelo-Saharan Africa). I started this, but the writing style is insufferable to read so it's one of those academic books that takes me forever to finish.

10. The Arabic Hermes: From Pagan Sage to Prophet of Science by Kevin van Bladel. I like reading about syncretism!

11. The Devil and the Jews by Joshua Trachtenberg. I've been recommended this but haven't read it yet, and it is relevant to some Thoughts I've been Thinking

12. Torah Queeries: Weekly Commentaries on the Hebrew Bible. I agreed to help with a midrash for every parsha project, so I've been reading multiple versions of the parshas I think I'll have Ideas on and the different takes people have to respond to or just to help me get the juices going

13. Qemant: A Pagan-Hebraic Peasantry of Ethiopia by Frederick C. Gamst. An Ethiopian friend of mine has mentioned the Qemant a few times and I want to know more. TL;DR is that they're an ethnoreligion that seems to have split off from Judaism before monotheism really took hold (?).

And I'll cut it off here because we don't need to be here forever.

Tagging @2percentsugar @wanderingwriter87 @knivesandteeth @tokidokifish @idonotbitemythumbatyou @subatoism @lorenzobane @fatalism-and-villainy and anyone else who wants in!

[ergodic-mentality]

Entry 5 - Housekeeping

Howdy Howdy.

Ok. So.

As someone with LONGTIME diagnosed ADHD (If I didn't self admit this, trust me, it would become apparent with time) I cannot stress enough how much having a digital recreation of a physical map for story writing helps with executive dysfunction. Highly recommend.

Context:

As a longtime Dork, a fan of Weird Fiction, and an Oldhead by internet terms, it should surprise no one that Remedy is one of my favorite game developers, and I am DEEPLY attached to Alan Wake as a franchise purely off of its deep analysis of the craft of writing and psychological analysis.

When playing Alan Wake 2 (Minor Spoilers for game mechanics I guess?) as the titular title character Alan Wake, you are stuck in a nightmare dreamscape shaped by your own art. As such, you constantly return to his Writers Room where, partially because its a real tactic, and partially because its a video game, you rearrange story elements on a massive chalkboard to effect the game world itself.

Image attached for all my visual learners out there:

Now, I've struggled a lot sometimes with my drafts and organizing my thoughts. I've loved writing for a long time. The closest I ever got to seeing something like this in media before was, admittedly, being shown the Always Sunny clip of the Pepe Silvia rant. While funny, being shown someone's mental shattering it turns out, not the most effective way to teach a writer a valuable tool.

Turning it into a puzzle mechanic utilized by an actual writer however? Very Cool.

Where am I going with this?

As it turns out, there are several programs out there that allow you to basically replicate this kind of visual story mapping out there if you just know where to look. One of the better ones, admittedly, I actually did not find out about until after college, where in my corporate job someone pulled it out (A business major friend of mine) as a part of a team building exercise.

Behold, my Miro board:

(This is not a paid advertisement)

What it is, I hope, a call to those who did not know about it that it is THERE. What it does is give you a nice big infinite void, and allow you to not only draw lines and flow tables and make nice little titles on things, but as you can see, toss digital physical sticky notes around and map things out VISUALLY.

I cannot stress how much this has helped.

Everything to the left of the center line was initial plot building for future drafts of Project Clown Crown. Side characters, plots, building up little color coded stacks of each note so that I know what corresponds to what.

Everything to the right? That's two days of manic work baby. As it turns out, much to my friend recently pointing out, Image and Dark Horse accept open pitches so long as you have an artist team, an elevator pitch for the work, and a solid 5 pages of sequential story telling that summarizes what you plan to do in the first arc.

This normally probably would have taken me a month of staring at a blank google/word doc until I came up with some kind of nigh-incomprehensible bulleted list spanning for pages. Instead, I can pump these ideas down visually now in a couple of hours, rearrange them, note them in shorthand and physically place them in space on timelines for my story.

I haven't felt this kind of power as a writer in ages. Admittedly, part of it is probably a friend actually thinking I have something worth pitching. Part of it is an own sense of self accomplishment and actually being able to visually SEE progress, rather than it just be abstracted word counts on a page.

Am I saying Miro is the only solution? No, I'm sure there are other tools or even better tools out there. All I'm saying is that this worked for me, and I will probably take a lot of my other drafts that I've been struggling with and do something similar with them. If you're like me, and you're struggling with writing or you've hit a wall and haven't tried visually mapping things out, give it a go. Can't hurt to try.

Anyway, I suppose I broke the surprise from Entry 4.1 early here, but yeah, looks like I might be trying to turn Project Clown Crown into an actual piece of media. About damn time I try to publish something. Can't call myself an Author without some body of work.

'til next time.

[todomitoukei]

Hey! Sorry to bother you! I would like to share my thoughts with someone :')

Unlike Shigaraki and Toga, Touya is the only one who revealed his story to the public but he's also the only villain who didn't have any effect on society, which is paradoxical. 8 years later, we see that Shigaraki still "haunts" Deku (even if his brief apparition meant nothing), Spinner publishes his book (even if we don't see civilians read the book and think critically), Toga inspires Uraraka's project (even if it's not a big reform)... but we don't even know what influence Touya's story had over people and/or over Shouto as a hero (and if he didn't have any, it would have been interesting to mention this lack).

Touya's greatest desire was to be recognized and to prove that he existed ; after his death (?), did he succeed in leaving his mark ? After being approved by his dad, did everyone else forget him ? Is it a punishment for denouncing his father who is still admired by his peers ? Did he become a taboo subject ?

Some people will say that he had what he wanted the most - his father's attention - but I'm not satisfied. There was something more. Touya wanted to exist and find his place. Him becoming a figure after his death (?) and inspiring people who remember him and his story would have been an interesting idea... but I think he has fallen into oblivion

Don't worry, you're not bothering me!

That's a good point. I think originally, after the first war, his reveal was at least partially responsible for the chaos, the distrust society got in heroes and the high number of heroes straight up quitting.

Other than that you're right. When it comes to his family it feels more like his actions "freed" his father, at least that's how Endvr's character ends up coming across. While he pities himself, he makes it sound like Touya did him a favor by forcing the truth to come out. The fact that Endvr says he CHOSE to retire is proof that society did not care about the lov being victims, or any abuse victims for that matter.

Despite his retirement, he is seen in the final chapter being surrounded by his former sidekicks as well as his biggest fan (Hawks). So in a way Touya's reveal, which was supposed to ruin his father's life, only gifted him with an early retirement and a chance to play victim.

Touya left his mark on society, but it's unclear whether the lov members will be remembered individually or just as a collective.

It is cruel though that none of the lov members were saved and given a second chance. They might have reached their goals to a certain extent but aside from wanting his father's attention, Touya also wanted the rest of his family. And with Horikoshi not being explicit about his ending, there is no way to say whether he ever got that.

If we assumed that he died, he certainly didn't ever get to find out who he is, and never got to truly live and that is the worst part because it's simply not fair.

Some people find the ending hopeful because the lov's suffering inspired the kids to go on to make things better, but this is a fictional story. I don't care about the fictional future victims I will never meet, I care about the fictional victims that I did meet and root for, but Horikoshi decided preventing crime before it happens is the only option and that people can't actually be saved after a certain point. A wonderful message, truly.<3

[lelitachay]

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 - Here Chapter 42 - Here Chapter 43 -Here Chapter 44- Here Chapter 45 - Here Chapter 46 - Here Chapter 47 - Here Chapter 48 - Here

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It don't matter to the sun

“My family and I will find a way to pay you back.”

For the first time in the last twenty four hours, Anna felt something akin to optimism growing inside of her as she watched her father and Kai coming to an agreement. Even if it was only a small glimmer of hope, she was delighted to know her sister could count on their father when she most needed it.

She felt proud her father had given her his undivided attention the previous day, when she had asked to talk to him in private. Anna then explained Elsa needed his help and, following Kristoff’s suggestion, she kept all the small details for him to discuss with Kai. It had only taken a few minutes to convince her father that the clinic needed a down payment to continue with Elsa’s treatment —given her delicate health condition. And to her good luck, Agdar hadn't asked too many questions, promising to go talk to Kai as soon as he informed the board about the family emergency and got a partial approval. True to his word, the next day he was at the clinic in the early afternoon, discussing Elsa’s health with Kai and coming to what she believed was a favourable agreement. He’d pay for Elsa’s treatment, taking the load off Kai and Gerda’s shoulders.

“No need to give anything back,” Agdar said with a small tight smile. Regardless of their agreement and knowing he could finally start helping his daughter, he knew there was nothing to be truly happy about. Elsa was still unresponsive.

“It’s a lot of money…” reminded Kai, uncomfortable about the enormous favour he was asking.

“We'll have to delay a few projects and make some cuts,” Agdar explained. “ArenCo will manage nonetheless. It's nothing we haven't done in the past.” Placing his hand on Kai’s shoulder, he reassured him the money was Elsa’s, no need to pay it back. “I've denied my daughter the help she needs for far too long. Don't worry about the money.”

Smiling in return, Kai nodded with a faint, “Thank you.”

Smiling at the scene unfolding in front of her, Anna hoped Elsa could see them at that moment as well. Sure, her sister still had her reservations about her biological parents —about their father in particular— but thankfully he was proving how much he did care.

“There's only one thing I don’t understand,” Agdar said, pulling Anna back to their conversation. “Why is the payment so urgent? Anna insisted it couldn’t wait.” Looking over his shoulder, her father found her gaze expecting her to confirm what he was saying.

Anna opened her mouth to explain the situation better, but Kai beat her to it.

“It's a delicate matter. I was hoping we could discuss it in private. With Dr Nielsen, as well as Kristoff and Anna.” Kai then turned to Idunn who had been standing by Anna’s side in silence ever since the two families had met. “You’re welcome to join us too, Idunn.”

Idunn glanced up and took a second to think about his offer. “Umm… Kai, I was hoping–” She looked down, wringing her hands, unsure of what to say. “Anna has told me they’re being quite restrictive with the visits but… Would it be possible for me to see her?”

From the moment Elsa had been admitted to the hospital, Idunn had been dying to get the chance to see her. Always asking Anna if there existed the possibility of her being allowed inside the ICU. All she wanted was to sit by Elsa’s side and talk to her at least once. Finally getting the chance to say everything she had ever wanted, even when Elsa couldn’t hear her. The idea of waking up one day, only to realise it was too late to make amends terrified her mother. And with every passing day, Anna knew she was becoming more and more afraid of never getting one that last chance. So, the moment Anna saw her mother walk into the clinic that day, she knew it was only a matter of time until she asked Kai or Nielsen to see Elsa. Yet, now that she had the chance, Anna could see the doubt and uncertainty consuming her.

“We'll need to ask Nielsen,” Kai said. “Perhaps he’ll allow you to.”

Idunn nodded as she anxiously tried to smooth the invisible wrinkles of her dress. “Is she all alone in there?”

“No.” A small smile formed on Kai’s lips as he paid a quick look to the door that led to the wards. “My wife’s been by her side from the very beginning.”

A watery smile drew on Idunn’s face. “I’m glad.”

Turning his attention back to their main conversation, Kai addressed Agdar once again. “Anna mentioned something about a good legal team working for you, is that correct?”

“There's one working for us at the company, yes.” Her father’s seriousness told Anna he was more than willing to ask the legal team to start working on anything that was needed. “What’s going on, Kai?”

“Dr Nielsen will be here any minute now. He's checking on Elsa as we speak. I'll explain everything as soon as we can discuss things with him.”

Her father agreed, and she knew there wasn’t much to do than wait for Nielsen after that. Deciding it was best to go for a short stroll before their meeting, Anna walked to where Kristoff was sitting and gently informed him she was going out to get some fresh air. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have minded staying. She would have talked to her mother or found excuses for both families to bond. But this time, the situation was anything but normal and staying still only made her more anxious.

Looking up in concern, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

She smiled and nodded. “I just need to move my legs.” She kissed his cheek reassuringly and left the room in silence.

---

Truth be told, she could barely tolerate being inside the small room. It was where they had stayed after receiving the news about Elsa a week before, and the place they had awaited every medical report they’ve got ever since. It was more comfortable than the hall leading straight to the unit, but it didn’t mean Anna liked it any better. More than once they had shared the room with other families, who just like them, were sleep deprived and hoping for positive medical reports. The only thing she saw inside that damn room were long faces and hopelessness. Not wanting to think about that anymore, she hurried down the hallway and into the main waiting room.

“No, you listen to me.”

Anna heard an angry man say as she walked into the now crowded place. The voice was coming from Andrea’s desk, and Anna didn’t need to see the face of the man to know it was no other than Marshall. She had gotten used to his frustrated tone of voice by now, and she was certain the receptionist had too. This time, however, he sounded hostile and more aggressive than he had in the last week. Wanting to make sure things didn’t spiral out of control, she decided to go see what was going on.

“I've been coming here for the past week, day after day, asking time and time again to see her. You can't tell me no when I clearly saw the two of them walk in.” Marshall had both hands on the receptionist’s desk, leaning forward and making the poor receptionist deeply uncomfortable. Andrea tried in vain to put some distance between them and Anna knew it was only a matter of time until she called security to escort Marshall out.

Anna was curious as to what had finally driven him over the edge, though it was best to put a stop to it and then ask than to see a disaster unfold in front of her. Grabbing Marshall’s good arm, Anna forced him away from the desk.

“Marshall, what do you think you're doing?” Glancing in Andrea’s direction, she offered her an apologetic smile. “Excuse him, Andrea.”

Frowning at her for a split second, Marshall tried to pull his arm from Anna’s grasp. “Get away, Anna.”

She was able to hold his wrist firmly and called his name again. When he didn’t pay attention, she tried once more, this time, appealing to his emotional side. “Marshmallow, please.”

“Don’t– Don’t call me that,” he said, clearly displeased.

Anna took a step back, startled by his reaction, letting go of his arm. This seemed to bring Marshall back to his senses, finally taking a step back and turning in Anna’s direction.

“They keep telling me I can't see her.” He was trying to stay calm, but Anna could see he was failing miserably, making the people around them uncomfortable. “Always the same excuse!”

“I know you're frustrated,” Anna said in a lower tone of voice, expecting him to listen and understand they could discuss whatever was going on more quietly. “But this isn’t the receptionist's fault. Only family members are allowed inside. You know that.”

Part of her was confident he’d calm down once he was reminded of that fact. She had been expecting him to say he already knew, like he had done a few times before. However, what she hadn’t been expecting was for him to look daggers at her as she was the one to blame.

“I saw your parents walk in.” He spat, surprising Anna.

Anna gaped at him unsure of what to say. She couldn’t really understand why her parents being there was reason enough for him to get so mad. “They're family,” she muttered.

“No, Anna,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “They are not.”

The way he towered over her, glowering, made Anna realise how truly intimidating he could be. But she wouldn’t let that stop her from talking some sense into him. “I thought Elsa told you about us. My family is—”

“She did,” he said, interrupting her. “I know the two of you are related. I know you're sisters. That doesn't mean your parents are part of her family.”

Not understanding the logic behind his words, Anna couldn't help but crack a smile. “That's exactly what it means. They're family.”

“No, that's what you want them to be.” He took a step closer and Anna couldn’t stop herself from taking one backwards. “Your parents have no right to call themselves family all of a sudden.”

The way he kept glaring at her gave Anna the impression that no matter what she said, he wouldn’t change his mind. Her best bet was trying to show him she understood what he was going through. “Marshall, look, I know you've been coming here everyday. Trust me, I know how frustrating it is, but—”

Marshall groaned, exasperated. “Elsa wouldn't want them visiting.”

“You don't know that.” Now Anna was getting irritated. Marshall was entitled to his own opinion, it didn’t mean it was the right one.

“Yes, I do,” he said, lowering his voice. Anna guessed he had finally noticed the rest of the people in the waiting room, all staring at them. “She doesn't trust your parents.” He took another step closer and poked her shoulder. “The only reason she ever gave them a chance is you.” 

Anna glared back and slapped his hand away. “My parents are helping her right now. They've got the right to see her.”

“She's told them time and time again she doesn't want to see them,” Marshall scoffed. “As soon as she's unconscious they walk all over her wishes, I see.”

“Marshall—”

“I can't believe Kai and Gerda agreed to this,” he continued, ignoring what she had to say. “I can't believe you agreed to this. Elsa trusts you!”

“I— You’re getting it all wrong.” Anna was at loss for words. What he was saying was getting to her, and she wasn’t sure how to explain everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “You talk as if I'm doing something terrible to her.”

“It baffles me you don’t see it!” Marshall shouted, startling Anna and everyone around.

Unable to hold his gaze, she looked around. A man, a couple of years older than her father, wouldn't take his eyes off Marshall, ready to intervene in case it was needed. Anna then noticed Andrea had already stood up from her desk and she was holding a phone’s headset to her ear. It was a matter of time until someone came to walk them both out of the building and Anna couldn't let that happen. She knew he was probably just taking his frustration out on her and he would regret being blacklisted.

“The least you could do now is respect her wishes,” Marshall kept talking, ignoring everything that was going on around them. “She loves you so much she chose to ignore the pain your parents have caused her just to make you happy. But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

She felt a sudden pang of guilt and she tried to speak up, but no words came out as she felt her throat tightening. Was he truly talking out of frustration, or was he finally speaking his mind? ‘Or Elsa's mind?’  she wondered, the uncertainty making her shudder.

Marshall took her silence as an answer and a new wave of anger ripped through him. “You kept pushing. And pushing. And pushing. All you wanted was for Elsa to forgive them, to make your family happy, even when you knew she was miserable.”

Anna’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears and she instinctively took another step back.

“I know Elsa’s never been truly happy,” he admitted with bitter sadness. “I’m not going to pretend that’s the case. But she wasn’t this miserable until your parents walked into her life.”

“She said that?” Anna managed to ask in a quavering voice.

“I may not have known about her po—” Marshall stopped abruptly, finally aware they were surrounded by strangers. Most of whom were paying close attention to their conversation and whatever he chose to do next. He looked around and after making up his mind, he took one more step and leaned in closer to Anna, whispering, “I may not have known about her powers, but it doesn't mean I don't know her.”

By the time he finished speaking, the man who had previously been staring stood up and gently asked Marshall to give Anna some space. To Anna’s surprise, Marshall did take a few steps back, even when he glared at the meddling man. Only a moment later, a man wearing a white shirt with the clinic's emblem approached them as well. He ignored Marshall and made sure Anna was okay before he asked if she needed him to escort Marshall outside.

Ignoring the staff-member and the old man, Marshall found her gaze once again and said, “You and your parents are crossing the line, Anna.”

Anna ignored the men as well. She didn’t need them to stand up for her. All she needed was for Marshall to listen and perhaps talk things through in a less crowded place. “Marshall, you don't understand—”

“No.” He shook his head, stopping whatever she had to say. “You don't understand. It's sickening to think I've been in Elsa's life far longer than her biological parents have ever had; yet, somehow, I'm the one who’s not allowed to see her. Not allowed to say goodbye.”

Although he mumbled the last part, Anna and the men standing between them heard him clearly. What he said, combined with the raw pain in his eyes, finally helped Anna understand his anger and resentment. Marshall was not only mad at her family and the rules in place. He was afraid. He was starting to lose hope and Anna couldn’t take it. Anna’s stomach was in knots and, once again, try as she might, there was nothing she could say to lessen his heartache as the anxiety and fear for her sister’s life consumed her.

Placing a comforting hand on Marshall’s shoulder, the man in the white shirt said, “Sir, perhaps it’d be better for you to get some fresh air.” His cautious look now morphing into a compassionate one.

“Let go— “ Marshall said, annoyed at the man, moving his arm away from him. Anna knew he couldn't stand the pity look the men were giving him, making him over react once again.

Just as the staff-member was about to talk, a familiar voice called their names. “Is there a problem?” Kristoff said as he approached them.

“No, there isn't,” Marshall said loud enough for everyone who had been interested in the scene to hear.

Anna watched him walk away, and once again the pang of guilt constricted her throat, barely allowing her to breathe. Before she realised, the tears she'd been holding back began streaming down her face.

“Hey,” Kristoff said, engulfing her in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded against his chest and in vain tried to dry her tears. “Don't worry.”

Kristoff took a hard look at her, then the people around them and finally at the door through which Marshall had disappeared. “Whenever I think he's finally learning how to behave around people, he shows the kind of moron he is. I don't understand what Elsa sees in him.”

“He loves her,” Anna mumbled, as she hugged Kristoff tight, feeling thankful for his presence.

“So do you and I,” he said with contempt.

Anna nodded, but didn't say anything. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t completely agree with Kristoff this time. Marshall had successfully planted the seed of doubt in Anna, and she couldn’t help but feel as if she was in fact breaking Elsa's trust.

Kristoff thanked the men for stepping in, and then apologised to Andrea for the inconvenience. To Anna's surprise, instead of blaming Marshall like he'd have done in the past, Kristoff explained the last few days were finally catching up with all of them and begged Andrea not to kick Marshall out next time.

With things calmer around them, Kristoff walked Anna outside and asked her about their argument. Anna shook her head, not wanting to discuss it with anyone. The last thing she needed was for Kristoff to find reason behind Marshall's words like she did, and for him to realise they were making a terrible mistake. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I’ll talk to him if you need me to.”

“No, Kristoff. It doesn’t matter.” Before he could insist, Anna decided it was best to change the topic. “Has Nielsen met our parents?” 

Kristoff stayed silent for a short moment, debating what to do. After a minute, he breathed out and nodded. “Kai told me to get you and wait for them at the café. They don’t want to discuss things in the hospital.”

---

The door leading to the ICU closed behind Idunn and only then she breathed out with relief. Until then, she had been afraid the medical staff would suddenly change their mind and she wouldn’t be allowed to see Elsa after all.

She had been told to wait for a nurse to come get her and she didn’t plan to move from that spot until they did. The last thing she needed was entering a room or area she wasn’t supposed to, when Nielsen had been clear about the staff making an expectation for her to visit — given the circumstances.

As she waited, she wondered what she’d find once she walked into Elsa's room. The last time she had seen her daughter, Elsa looked thin and fragile. Like she hadn’t been taking proper care of herself. It made Idunn wonder how many things she had been dealing with, only for Agdar and herself to make things worse the day they met. No matter how hard she tried, Idunn couldn’t get rid of Elsa’s words during their last conversation. Elsa had not only admitted needing her mother more than anything, she had also confessed suffering more than they could imagine. Her words were on repeat in Idunn’s mind. Taunting her and showing her she was responsible for everything that had ever gone wrong in Elsa’s life.

Even this, she realised regretfully. If she had only stopped Agdar on time. If she had only taken Elsa to the ER instead of trying to get Elsa to like her; then, perhaps, her daughter wouldn’t be on the brink of death now.

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, it took a moment for Idunn to realise a nurse had been standing in front of her for half a minute, waiting for a reply. She apologised and nodded her head when the young woman checked her name on the clipboard in her hands. When everything was set, they began walking down the hall at a faster pace than Idunn would have liked. There were so many questions she wanted to ask about her daughter and so little time. But as they moved past the doors in the unit, Idunn became more afraid of the answers she could get, desisting finally of her idea. The nurse continued walking until they got to the end of the hall.

The last room in the unit. Away from everyone else. Forgotten.

The thought alone made Idunn’s chest feel heavy and she had a hard time trying to understand what the young woman was explaining.

The young woman explained she was only allowed to remain inside the room during visiting hours and she was to leave the room if a family member requested her to do so. Idunn nodded in agreement, hiding the pain of not being allowed to see her daughter for as long as she wanted. But then again, she had lost the privilege years before.

When the nurse left, Idunn drew in one more deep shaky breath, gathering her thoughts before she grabbed the handle. Slowly, trying to bother the people inside, she opened the door just a crack. The first thing she saw was Gerda, sitting by Elsa's bedside. Eyes closed, the older woman rested her forehead on her clasped hands which were holding onto Elsa's. Opening the door a bit wider, Elsa's face came into view and only then she realised it didn’t matter how long she had to wrap her mind around the idea. Finally seeing Elsa’s pale form, connected to more machines and wires than she had imagined, made her stomach turn. Her heart constricted painfully and for a moment she couldn’t breath nor move.

Gerda raised her head slowly, opening her eyes and looking at Elsa, unaware of Idunn’s presence. She caressed Elsa’s hand with her thumb and a sad smile drew on her face.

“You know, there'll still be a tomorrow even if you choose to leave.” Gerda’s voice, barely over a whisper, got Idunn’s attention. “It ain’t gonna stop the world… but I think it'll be the end of mine.”

The sorrow in Gerda's voice made the situation too painful, too real. And for the first time since that night, when she abandoned Elsa, Idunn felt as if someone was ripping her heart out. She imagined she’d never feel the way she felt back then, until now.

“I know it’s unfair —selfish of me— to ask you this, but…” Gerda said, as one of her hands let go of Elsa’s to dry a lonesome tear running down her cheek. “Please, dear. Don't go.” The hand returned to its original position and she held Elsa’s hand a bit tighter. “I know you're tired and I understand why it'd be easier to just let yourself go. But I need you. I'm not as strong as you are. I—” She breathed out, tiredly. “What would I say to Kristoff?”

Unable to deal with the aching pain in her chest, Idunn tried to hold back a sob and close the door, hoping to give Gerda some privacy, but the sudden movement caught the old woman’s attention and she turned to look at the door, their gazes finally meeting.

“I didn't mean to interrupt,” Idunn blurted out as best as she could. “It's— I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Gerda murmured. “Kai told me your husband or you might stop by.” She let go of Elsa’s hand and looked at her watch, surprised to see it was already time for visiting hours. She tried in vain to blink away the tears and stood up. “Is Agdar waiting outside?”

“No.” Idunn shook her head and silently hoped Gerda didn’t feel pressured to leave. “He's in a meeting with Kai and Elsa's doctor… Uhm—”

“Nielsen.”

“Yes.” She regretted not paying more attention to the names of the people who were doing everything to help Elsa.

“What about Anna and Kristoff?” Gerda asked, sitting once again by Elsa’s side, unsure of what else to do.

“They're with them as well. I don't understand what's going on, but it seemed urgent.”

Gerda nodded. “I don't have all the details yet. They said it’d be best for me to look after Elsa instead of worrying about it. Come in,” she offered at last, inviting Idunn into the room with a hand gesture.

Idunn did as told and she walked until she was standing at the foot of the bed, keeping her distance from the machines. “She looks so pale,” she murmured, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

Both women stayed quiet for several minutes after that. The heavy silence that fell between them was only interrupted by the beeping noises of the machines. The minutes stretched and Idunn felt as if they were running out of air inside the small room.

After twenty minutes, which felt like an hour, Idunn decided it was best to break the silence. The only thing Gerda had done during that time was hold onto Elsa’s hand, and something told her she’d like a distraction or the opportunity to move her legs.

“Please don't take this the wrong way, Gerda.” Idunn said, hoping she wouldn’t be overstepping. “I could stay with her for the next hour if you need. You look awfully tired.”

“I'm not leaving her,” Gerda answered with a frown.

Only then, Idunn realised how stupid what she had just said truly was. The woman had been looking after Elsa for over a week. It was more than obvious she already knew how she looked and how tired she was. But even then, Idunn felt bad and wished she would take a moment. Breathe some fresh air at least.

“I don't think she'd mind you taking a short break.”

“I can't selfishly beg her to stay.” Tired eyes looking up to meet Idunn’s gaze. “Only to leave her alone a moment after, Idunn.”

Choosing it was best to drop the subject, Idunn looked at Elsa’s left hand. It was slightly raised and covered in bandages. It seemed surreal that that small injury could be the cause of her current state. “Her hand's getting better from what I heard.” Kai had told her so before Nielsen met them in the waiting room. “Why isn't she recovering?”

“Her body is fighting more than just her hand’s infection. She has a hard time breathing and now her kidneys are failing. Her blood pressure needs to go up before we can even think of pulling her out of the coma.”

“Will she have permanent damage?” Idunn was terrified of the answer. Elsa had struggled her whole life with her powers getting in the way. Dealing with physical or mental damage on top of that would certainly be more than she could handle.

“Only time can tell,” Gerda said, her eyes filling up with tears. “It all depends on her.”

“She's strong,” Idunn said with conviction. “She'll make it.”

As Gerda shook her head, Idunn felt her throat constricting. “I fear she might see no reason to keep fighting…”

“What do you mean?”

“Elsa's soul is older than mine. She's endured too much and…” Taking a deep breath, Gerda tried to make up her mind. “Lately she's been losing—” She stopped again, unsure if it was right to share what she was about to say with Idunn. “She’s started to wonder if it's all worth it.”

---

As soon as the words left her mouth, Gerda realised trusting Idunn with the way Elsa felt about life had been a mistake. From the moment Idunn had walked into the room, Gerda could tell it was hard for her to face the truth of what was happening to Elsa. Gerda couldn’t blame her for it, everyone in the family had had a difficult time coming to terms with it, but she did wonder why she’d put herself through it when she could barely look at the girl in the bed. It was no surprise then, that with every new piece of information she began to crumble until the weight of it all was too much for her to handle. Idunn was nothing but a crying mess now that she knew the truth and despite the way she felt about the Arendelles, Gerda considered it was necessary for her to do or say something that could help the younger woman. Though, before she could make up her mind on what to say, Idunn surprised her by suddenly pulling herself together.

“I wanted to thank you for loving and caring for Elsa the way you do.” Idun’s voice cracked and she pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes to stop her tears. “I understand seeing her like this must be as difficult for you as it is for me, still you manage to stay strong. I don’t know how you do it.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You may think it’s the same, but no.” Gerda tried to focus on the good side, the positive thing Idunn was trying to say; but try as she may, she couldn’t do it.

Idunn blinked a few times, unsure of what she meant, and once again Gerda tried to make an effort to remain calm, hoping to find the right words before she spoke. “Seeing Elsa like this is not—” She took a deep breath, and started over. “When I see Elsa, all I see is the malnourished little girl I met over ten years ago. The little girl who somehow found comfort in my arms and begged me to stay… who still to this day begs me to. I see the daughter life once took from me, and the one I fear will be taken from me again. So, no, Idunn, I don’t think it is.”

Idunn’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not saying you feel no pain,” Gerda clarified. The fact she was feeling heartbroken didn’t erase whatever Idunn was feeling. “I’m sure the guilt and regret must be eating you up alive in moments like this, but when night comes and the day is done, you go back home and I’m the one who stays to try and put back together what's left of her.”

Just as Gerda finished speaking, Frida, one of the nurses who worked in Elsa’s recovery, opened the door, calling their attention. “Gerda, I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Mr Bjorgman and Dr Nielsen are asking for you.”

“Tell Kai I’ll meet them later,” Gerda said, not turning to look at her. Her eyes fixed on nothing but Elsa.

“They said it’s urgent,” the nurse insisted, knowing Nielsen would send her back to get her if Gerda didn’t come out.

“More urgent than Elsa?” Gerda scoffed, not believing there was something more important at that moment. She was aware how serious their current situation was. She couldn’t blame her husband for needing her to meet them. After all, they were discussing the next step to take. But her role was to look after Elsa, make sure she didn’t become a test subject to those bastards in charge.

“I– I don’t know what to say,” said Frida. “They just asked me to—”

Gerda knew the girl wouldn’t stop insisting. She had worked under Nielsen’s instructions during her time at the hospital, and she knew he could be a pain when things didn’t go his way.

“This better be important,” she murmured and stood up with a weary sigh. She looked at her daughter and then where Idunn was still standing. The woman’s head was hanging low and she didn’t seem to be aware of the nurse’s presence. “I know now doesn’t seem like the right time to ask you a favour,” Gerda said, calling her attention. “But… Could you stay with her until visiting hours are over, please? I promised I wouldn't leave her alone.”

“Of course,” Idunn said, her voice barely over a whisper.

With a heavy feeling in her stomach, Gerda brushed a few strands away from Elsa’s face. “I’ll be back soon, dear.” She smiled sadly at her and gave her a short kiss on her forehead before she followed the nurse out of the room.

---

Gerda’s words and the chapter’s title were inspired by the homonymous song: It don’t matter to the sun by Rosie Thomas.

I want to apologise for not answering your reviews sooner. I’ve read them all and I loved each one of them, but I didn’t have too much time in my hands to reply. Now that the new chapter is out, I’ll take the time to get back to all of you. Rest assured I really appreciate every word, comment and reaction you guys have sent my way.

Originally, this chapter was going to have two (or three) scenes more. I changed my mind yesterday when I realised that would push the update for at least another week. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Take care. --

Do you guys still want to be tagged? Let me know, please. I don’t want to bother people who are no longer following the story. Also, do tags even work?

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[nyxnightshade7656]

Hooked Pt3

Think this one might be shorter, but I want to TRY and keep up some momentum. I guess if anyone wants updates, let me know? I'll try and tag you.

It was a while before she saw Gambit again, nearly two weeks. When she did some snooping she discovered that he and a few other X-Men had been sent on some kind of mission. Being as she was not part of the team, and really only there because of her dad, she wasn’t told too much else about it. So she decided to try and focus on her preferred projects to take her mind off of things.

Gambit had said he liked chats, and she was absolutely not ashamed to admit that she googled what that even meant; only to discover that he meant cats. Which had her down an entirely different rabbit hole that had her discovering that he had called her Kitten of all things that night he had let her back into the mansion. Thankfully there were no witnesses to her school-girl-esque squeal of embarrassment. If no one was around to hear her make a sound, it didn’t happen. She would take that to the grave. But, with the knowledge came the ability to actually make his ‘little gift’.

She spent her time in her room, crochet hook and yarn in hand. Occasionally she would venture out in the dead of night for snacks and a supply of drinks; but for the most part she stayed in her room like a troll under a bridge. Soon, she had a small army of cats, one dressed in a little trench coat with red-on-black eyes and the ‘fur’ color was the auburn red-brown that matched Gambit’s hair perfectly. That was the one she intended to gift Gambit when he came back.

But she had also made three other cats that all were perfect little yarn-ified versions of his real life cats. She had met them by accident, running around the mansion in an effort to find some peace amongst the chaotic swirl of emotion that was always just a hair’s breadth away from pulling her under, like a riptide in the ocean. The three cats had been wandering around a part of the mansion that she had never been in before, and she had instantly been drawn to them. They felt safe, calm, happy, content and well fed. She had sat down and they had climbed all over her, after sniffing her to be sure she was on the up-and-up. This was how Gambit found her, with all three of his cats, that had been his actual target, curled up in her lap or across her shoulders, and her trying her best to pet all of them with only two hands.

She had learned their names during that incident. And thus, she crocheted little collars for each of the little crocheted cats. Each one with their name painstakingly stitched into the ‘tag’. Oliver for the grey one, Lucifer for the orange one, and Figaro for the white one. She also crocheted a crow, giving it red eyes against its black yarn ‘feathers’. The cats were because Gambit admitted to liking them, the crow was because he reminded her of crows. Mischievous, playful, loyal and deceptively intelligent. It was in the middle of the night that she made her way to Gambit’s room, following the emotions in the air, trying to latch onto the feel of Gambit’s cats’ feelings, and partially out of her half-remembered trek there when Gambit had found her with his cats in the first place.

She found the room with minimal missed turns, she found the room. She checked if it was locked, and was both delighted and concerned when it wasn’t. She hoped it was because he had someone come feed his cats while he was out on missions or something. But either way, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She made her way inside, and nearly tripped over Oliver who instantly started to twine around her ankles. She glanced down and shook her head. Death by cat, what a way to go.

She hurried to strategically deposit the little cats around the room, crochet Oliver went on top of the dresser, crochet Lucifer went on the table by the door, crochet Figaro went on the center of the bed, and the little crow was placed on the bedside table, perched on the lampshade found there. She then pulled out a bag of cat treats and food, feeding the three live kitties and making sure they had some fresh water. After about ten minutes of pats, she slipped back out of the room and hurried to make her way back to her sanctuary.  

[lost-girl-2021]

Would it be possible for you to write a fanfiction on ao3 about Metkayina Spider human au? It sounds so interesting that I don't even know how to comment

I think I might after I finish up with Days Into Decades. I'm in school rn (and trying to get a job) so I don't want to take on too many projects at once. I've definitely started fics, then got a new idea, started a new one, and accidentally ghosted the first, so I'm hoping to avoid that atm, lol.

I have three-ish ideas for new fics that I've written a little about, but I'll probably decide once I've finished with Days Into Decades (I'm starting the last act rn, actually).

The options are as follows, for anyone interested:

Metkayina post-battle Spider AU

(After the battle) Spider is taken in by Ronal and Tonowari. Either he washes ashore like Ariel and is taken in before the Sully's even notice he's there, or he's doing his little beach-boy thing and sleeping in trees and they notice.

I also think it'd be really funny if all the Metkayina people think Spider's, like, ten or something because surely human's get bigger than that, right? Like, it's been awhile since they've seen any humans and they never worked closely with them/interacted outside of fighting. So, they never really paid attention.

Young Spider (Adopted) AU

AU where humans don't age as fast as the Na'vi, so Spider's like 12-14-ish and his friends are all fifteen/sixteen. Also, in the AU, I would probably have Spider be adopted by the Sully's. I've touched based on it before, but I'd probably do something where Spider was raised (properly) besides the Sully kids and the rest of the movie takes place pretty much the same (minus my boy Neteyam dying, never gonna go there).

Brainwashed Spider AU (Probably my fav atm)

Spider is 'rescued' by the Sully's after the battle, except he doesn't remember them. At all. As far as he's concerned, he's Miles Quaritch Jr. and Jake Sully is a traitor of humanity.

There's a couple different ways this could go. Either Quaritch lives and takes him back at some point, only for Spider to realize he was treated better with the Sully's. Or, Spider finds out Jake killed his dad and feels bad for starting to trust him. Spider could run away at some point, he could try to off himself like the 'good soldier' he is. Idk, there's so many options.

Modern Metkayina/Foster kid Spider AU (the more I think about this one the more ideas I get)

Spider is a foster kid sent to live with Ronal and Tonowari's family.

Two options for Spider's childhood before this: (one) he was living with the Sully family until they had to move to another country to be with Neytiri's ailing mother (two) he lived with his father in the mountains and was homeschooled, but his father was arrested and Spider's been sent far away to avoid anyone knowing his situation/any of Spider's uncles/aunts being able to find him while the case is investigated. I'm partial to the second version, because I feel like it'd be interesting to see Spider have to learn how to be a Real Boy. But, I also like the angst that comes with Spider getting comfortable with his new foster family and his old foster family (the Sully's) moving back to the States and wanting to adopt Spider, basically making Spider pick where he wants to go.

Whichever backstory he gets changes how the rest of the fic goes, but we'd definitely see Spider learning to surf (maybe to swim?) and Aounung at first bullying the guy and then getting in a fight for him or something whenever someone else tries to do it (very much 'i'm the only one allowed to make fun of my brother' vibes).

Those are the main fic ideas I have atm, lmk which one(s) you like the best or if you have any more ideas for me to hyperfixate on lol.

[wonderneverlandsystem]

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 EPISODE 6, "Oops"

TW: Talk of/Theorizing about child abuse, manipulation/gaslighting, and potentially implied SA of one's child and potentially other children

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So. Ever since I first saw the Circus episode I've thought it was a possibility, but until this episode I never said anything because I thought, well maybe I'm just projecting and it wasn't intended to mean that. Now I'm starting to think I may have been right.

In the Circus episode when Blitzø's shit excuse for a father is manipulating him into going to hang out with Stolas to steal a bunch of shit for money, there is the obvious abuse of him grabbing and dragging his arm harshly as well as gaslighting/manipulating him into endangering himself by using Blitzø's love for his family and mother specifically, but there's a line that genuinely froze me the first time I heard it, cuz of the line as well as and especially because of how it was delivered vocally and visually. "There are scarier things, aren't there son?" It scared me, and on top of that the way Blitzø looks after he says that to him just reaffirmed my fear. It implied to me that he was assaulting Blitzø in some way. But again, I pushed the thought away, partially out of fear of it being right, and partially because I thought I was just projecting my experiences on to him.

But then I watched today's episode...

Fizz, when asked by Blitzø to distract Striker, Crimson, and co. to get away the way he would distract Blitzø's dad when they were kids so he could steal his dad's alcohol, performs like a circus clown, but starts it off with a lot of sexual distraction and touching, and he continues to do similar things throughout the performance. This "distraction" was something that Blitzø & Fizz did more than once based on how Blitzø worded the request/memory, meaning it worked on Blitzø's dad. That. Is, first off, fucking disgusting. Secondly, that means we know he was at least attracted/interested in children, and that plus what happened in the Circus episode- I would not be surprised to find out he assaulted Blitzø and perhaps Fizz (as well as who knows how many other kids in the circus, it is not by any means uncommon for circus leaders to take advantage, especially sexually, of their employees, and that is shown in a lot of media involving circus'/carnivals. Though it is often directed at teen/adult women not young boys).

I am hoping to gods that this isn't the case, but considering Viv hasn't been scared to show similar situations of bosses of "unprofessional jobs" taking advantage of their workers in such a way, see Addict Music Video for reference, I wouldn't be surprised if that is something that happened. But again, I could also just be projecting my trauma onto the situation idk, just thought I'd share my thoughts...

[iepurasdepraf]

Here's that part 2. More to come. Ok, I love you. Part 3 soon. Bye bye.

“Oh, come on…” You were standing on the rusted out running board of the truck, fighting with your oversized and overfilled rucksack that was a challenge to get around on it’s own, but now it was also tangled up in the content’s of the truck bed. Ropes, burlap, several unsealed first aid kits, one had blood on it, some old moldy moving boxes, tarps. hoses, beat to hell tool boxes, what looked like some kind of pump- you didn’t want to think about it. You closed your eyes to force yourself to stop taking inventory and focus.

Finally, it came loose from whatever it was stuck on and you gasped, opening your eyes and trying to maintain your balance on the untrustworthy running board only to choke on your own spit seeing Crane on the other side of the truck, leaning down on his forearms. It was at that moment you realized how tall he was. The very top of the side panel only came up to his low chest. He was standing flat footed on the ground and could not just see, but see in just fine, but could probably reach the middle of the bed and then some with those long arms. He could probably grab you from there if he was in the mood to try. When had he gotten out of the cab? You couldn’t remember hearing him get out? 

Trying to choke those rattling nerves down with the most pleasantly chirped “Were you an eagle scout? You look prepared for anything short of the apocalypse!” only to receive a hum and him looking away from you for the first time since he’d gotten out of the truck so he could look down into the bed. You chose to take that as him agreeing with your observation. In the past few hours of in person interaction, you’d mostly been talking at him while he gave you the Kubrick stare. The way people talked about him online you thought he’d have been enjoying the sound of his own voice. Then again, what did true crime people actually know? It gave you hope. Maybe they were wrong about him in a few ways, in enough ways for it to matter.

You hupped and lifted the rucksack up and let it do a, partially, controlled fall to the gravel parking spot that was more mud than anything which made you groan because it was brand new, but really that was it’s purpose, wasn’t it? Bound to get dirty sometime. Out of breath, you got that heavy pack to the patio and thunk thunk thunk’ed it up the too tall diy project steps onto the patio. Old paint crunching under your shoes and then the rucksack when you dragged it across the planks to the door. The owner had said the hide a key was in the plant pot by the door, but you couldn’t see anything that looked out of place in the odd sort of tiny pine tree’s cracked fancy pot. 

“Do you see a-” You looked beside you thinking he'd be standing there, but he wasn't, which somehow made you jump harder than if he'd been there. Your first instinct after that was to look behind you, he wasn't there either. "Dr. Crane?" you whispered. Where did he go? Looking around you eventually found him. Lurking at the bottom of the steps to the porch. You couldn't even really see him, just the corduroy pants covering his knees down to the struggling to stay together old work boots on his feet  in the lowlight of the dim porch lamp. Finding him made you jump harder than him just not being where you thought he was. "Jesus Christ!" "Mm?" The vaguely questioning sound he produced made you realize he'd not heard you or had and just hadn't answered. You couldn't tell. Maybe he thought it was funny. “What are you doing down there?” No answer. “Can you help me find the hide a key?” Again, nothing, he did join you on the porch however. Stepping over the steps you’d had to climb.

It only took him a second. Seemingly finding it at a glance among the perfectly similar riverstone rocks scattered in the pot. After fishing it out, he used the ragged hem of his faded olive colored sweater to wipe the dirt off before handing it to you. That was sweet of him. You made sure to say thank you.He smiled slightly, you caught it out of the corner of your eye. The door was finicky. You thought the key was going to snap before you managed to get it right where it wanted to be to unlock the door, but the moment that lock clicked the door was yanked from your hand. Swinging violently open to crash into whatever was behind it. Rattling the glass window in the door itself so hard that you were shocked it didn’t shatter.

You froze, struggling to breathe. You managed to look to Crane. For what you weren’t sure. He was playing with a lock of his hair, making it curl around his finger. He looked like his favorite tv show was on rather than disturbed.

“A draft.” He offered. “Yeah,” You looked into the house then after you just couldn’t look into the abyss anymore you looked back to him. “A draft.” When you didn’t move he took the initiative. Walking into the house like he owned it, taking your rucksack with him. Making you do a double take when he picked it up without strain singlehanded. All the way to the other side of the living room to the dining room where he sat the bag down on the table and thoughtfully turned on the overhead light. It flickered before slowly easing to it’s full brightness that only illuminated the table itself and maybe a foot around it making it an island in a inky sea of nothing, but vague shadow. 

You should have gone with him. You should have, but you didn’t and now there was an insidious moat between you and him. All you had to do was join him. Go through that not so narrow unlit area. There was nothing there. Maybe a rug. One of those weird floor sockets for lamps. Crane stood patiently watching you stickbug in the doorframe trying to psych yourself up to go inside. You’d ridden out into the middle of nowhere with one of the most dangerous men in Gotham on a Friday night to some guy you’d found on Craig’s list house to find a ghost because he’d told you his grandpa died there in a hunting accident or some shit. The man watching you oscillate just got out of an insane asylum. Just go in the house. Why are you afraid of the dark?

So you closed your eyes tight and ran. Into the house, through the dark moat around the kitchen, and right into Crane. He stumbled back slightly when you two collided with him and offered a steadying hand on your shoulder. “Sssorry.” You eek out peaking up at him. All you got was a scoff of a laugh from him. The look on his face felt it was saying it was fine. You were quick to give him his space, but he didn’t come across as particularly opposed to you being close to him and that meant a lot to you because from the moment you met him he’d made it absolutely clear he did not want anyone to touch him, look at him, even be near him. To the point where he’d refused to approach when someone had tried to be polite and hold a door open for him at the diner earlier. You’d expected him to move away or move you away. Maybe not being shoved off of him was a reward for facing your fear. Maybe you’d watched too many Youtube videos and overthought everything always. 

You metaphorically grab yourself by the back of the head and forced you to fight the straps to get in your bag so you could start unpacking. After setting your flashlights and your recorder you realized you were fucking up. Pay attention, explain things to him. Show him there’s a process. So, um, a…well,” You cleared your throat “So it’s a kind of some now and some later kind of thing.” “Mhm.” Oh, you actually had his attention. “Because while we can, hopefully get some responses in the moment, there will be some things we’ll have to go over in the recordings for. Like recorded voices we couldn’t hear or, ah, you know.” He tilted his head slightly, not knowing in the slightest. “Shadow people or apparitions. Things like that.” A soft snort. “Don’t laugh!” A little poorly suppressed jack-o-lantern-esque cracked his thin lips. He was somehow more and less creepy when he smiled at the same time. It was like he really didn’t know how. A spidery hand came up quickly to cover his mouth with his fingers, apparently conscious of this. “I’m not.” He rasped in assurance unconvincingly. 

After cutting him with a side eye, you went back to unpacking. Apparently, feeling a little more silly, he moved to hover behind you to see over your shoulder. Curious. Picking up the K2 meter and turning it over in his hand then jumping a little when he turned it on and it beeped loudly once before he turned it back off. “We can’t use that in the kitchen.” You say making sure all three of the flashlights had batteries in them. “It detects electromagnetic fields. It’ll give a false positive in a spot with a lot of electricity running through it.” 

He made no comment, but he did turn it back on and test that for himself. Waltzing around the kitchen to see what and where set it off and what didn’t while you make sure your video camera had nothing embarrassing on it in case he got curious. It seemed like mostly old videos of your cat and that was just fine for him to see. You turned to say something and jumped. He’d at some point moved to stand beside you, but you couldn’t even give what you were going to say a second try because a loud crunch sent a shiver down your spine and an echo cascading out into the otherwise silent house. It had come from Crane. Which didn’t make it less ominous, but he’d found a bag of Goldfish crackers somewhere and was munching away like he’d not just eaten a big supper an hour or so ago. 

“You can’t just eat that.” You protested. “It’s not…” Then you saw the date on the bag. 03/17/2014. “Oh my God.” He had to have seen that. You know he saw that.The look on his face when he realized you’d seen it told you he had. At the very least they had to be incredibly stale, at the worst they’d gone bad. “Jonathan.” His eyebrows shot up. First name? Bold, very bold. “Stop!” Another handful. “They’ll make you sick!” He rolled his eyes in a bored way and that’s when he noticed the camera. Side stepping quickly so he’d be out of the shot. If it was so no one saw him eating decade old Goldfish or for some other reason you weren’t sure.

He didn’t want to be recorded? That was fine with you. You turned it so you were the focus. “It’s not recording, don’t worry.” “Mm.” To ease his concern you held it out to him. “Here, this way you won’t have to worry.” An incredulous glance, but after a moment or two of you not changing your mind he finished his last handful of Goldfish, dusted the crumbs off on his pants, and took the camera. He was so careful when he did. Like he was worried your hand would snap off like a porcelain doll’s if he was too rough. After sussing out how it worked, he had it focused on you with the red light on, recording already. 

At least he couldn’t eat the Goldfish anymore.

You smiled at the camera, at him. Holding up one of the flashlights you presented to him “Uv light.” then another “Infralight.” then the last one “This is just a mag light, but!” You lightly tapped the camera once you’d sat the flashlight down next to the bag of Goldfish that would haunt your nightmares. “That’s a full spectrum camera! So hopefully it’ll get anything-” “And where,” “We might…” “Did you get all of this?” You were struck dumb. That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you in person. It hadn’t been half a day of knowing him in person so that wasn’t really saying much, but still/ Unfortunately you knew your answer wasn’t a winning one the moment you went to answer it. “Am…” His eyebrow arched “Amazon?” You managed to get out with all the authority of a parrot saying “Bottle.”

He looked away, sucked on his bottom lip then let it go with a loud pop while moving his now free hand to touch his chest then only looked back at you after letting out a long breath that would have been some kind of prolonged stress sigh if he was more annoyed. He wasn’t annoyed though, but you also couldn’t tell exactly what emotion was. Looked back at you, but ultimately returned to his silence even though for a moment it seemed like he wanted to say something. At least he didn’t laugh. Just slow blinked at you like your cat did sometimes.

“What?” He shook his head “I know you want to.” That made him give you an amused look. You decided to take it as him being tickled you claimed you could tell. “I’m just admiring your…resourcefulness.” You, not believing that for a minute, threw a side eye at his head, but ultimately decided to go back to unpacking anyway. If only out of spite at the moment. “You could be  a little more grateful, you know? I spent a lot of money on this stuff for us.I know you think it’s silly, but-” It was money you didn’t really have either, not for this at least.“You didn’t already have this?” “No?” His good humor hit the floor like a lead balloon. “Why?” “Because I promised you I would?” He threw his hand up. You were a little shocked he didn’t accidentally fling the camera from how quick and instinctual the gesture was “But the cost?” He didn’t raise his voice even in spite of the clear agitation or at least disgruntled confusion. Still nearly whispering which made the fact that you’d bothered him in some way a lot less terrifying than it probably should have been. You kinda felt like a librarian that told him he couldn’t check out any more books until he paid his late fees.

“I don’t care about that.” You laughed a little saying that and it did nothing to soothe his consternation. “You don’t care?” “Why would I care about that?” It was a genuine question that he seemed completely boggled by “None of this,” He waved the camera to give an example “Could have been cheap. Pumpkin, you got scammed. You know-” “No.” You quickly put a finger up and to his credit he took being interrupted like a champ. Just going quiet again with a soft huff. “If you think, genuinely think, that this is entirely about proving ghosts are real to you then maybe that sweater is a little too tight in the neck.” It wasn’t, it was so loose at this point you could see his adams apple and where his clavicals started. “You wouldn’t chastise me for buying a badminton net, would you? That’s all this is.” You got the feeling he would have chastised you for that too, but maybe that was just his generally miserly vibe. He nearly seemed like he was buffering on that statement until you added “It is a bonus though. Proving ghosts are real, I mean.” “Even if you do find something, no one will believe you.” Crane actually frowned a little then you heard why “Not with me here.” 

“Well,” You put a hand on your hip and puffed yourself up “I’d rather have you here than anyone believe me anyway.” That sent him into an odd state of awed confusion apparently. “Besides, you’re the only person I care about believing me. It’s not like I’m doing this for anyone else. It’s just us here.” There was a split second where he looked like he was about to throw up, but he choked whatever emotion that was bubbling up with a forced cough before holding the camera back up with that unreadable expression right back up where it was before. He didn’t argue, weirdly. He loved arguing. Maybe you’d won for once? He’d stopped fussing that’s what mattered. 

You’d forgotten what you were doing during that. You must have looked lost because he motioned at the rucksack and all the stuff on the table. “Oh! Right, right, right. Anyway, that’s a full spectrum camera. So it should be able to pick up anything we miss. I wanted to get a thermal camera, but I ran out of money. Aahahaa-” He didn’t laugh, but he did smile a little. 

Maybe those little smiles made this whole goofy adventure worth it in the end? They did to you at least.