#gale bjorgman

[mallmarrdlc]

Dylan, Max and Gale decided to try the bigger slope. Max even managed to do a small jump.

[wolfsbanepotion]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 — got a curse i cannot lift, shines when the sunset shifts, when the moon is round and full.

[ look ] [ listen ]

calm waves lapping coolly at your ankles while you collect shards of sea glass, a rolling fog on a full moon that gives you goosebumps, treacle tart and butter beer warm against your tongue, sitting high up in the swaying boughs of a willow tree, a crinkled smile that makes your heart race, dancing late night in the living room around the neck of a bottle, watching the sunrise glint off abraxan wings, a wave taking you out at the knees, flipping you through the water and grating you cruelly across the sand.

character parallels: connell waldron (normal people), peeta mellark (the hunger games), charlie kelmeckis (the perks of being a wallflower), isaak valtersen (skam), nathan byrne (the b*stard son & the devil himself), gale dekarios (bg3), malyen oretsev (shadow and bone), kristoff bjorgman (frozen), steve harrington (stranger things), alphonse elric (fma:b), elio perlman (call me by your name)

Full Name: Louis Alphons Weasley Gender/Pronouns: Cis man | he/him Age: Twenty-three Birthdate: May 18th Parents: Bill Weasley & Fleur Weasley (née Delacour) Siblings: Victoire Weasley, Dominique Weasley. Birth place: Shell Cottage, Tinworth, Cornwall. Height: 6"1 Species: 1/8th Veela Wizard [Afflicted with Lycanthropy] Nationality: British Affiliation: Order of the Phoenix. Body Alterations/Marks: Most of the left side of Louis' body is riddled with tearing scars, hip to mid-shoulder blade. A tattoo of the order symbol, the initials of others who fell fighting alongside him, this is pretty large by now and dominates the inside of his left bicep.

Personality Traits: - unassertive, impressionable, reclusive, pessimistic, sensitive, jaded + contemplative, solicitous, cordial, charming, dutiful, pragmatic, jocular

Blood Status: Pureblood Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Wand Arm: Right Pet: Pet Crup. Patronus: Granian Winged Horse Wand: 13 1/8 inches, Chestnut, Reasonably Supple, Phoenix feather core.

what a waste, army dreamers.

a good soldier boy, he had a head for tactics and a body to lay down for the war. so he went.

compared to many, louis knows he had luck on his side with the way they grew up. he had his siblings, both his parents, they even managed to hold onto shell cottage for most of it.

felt deep pressure to be popular and well-liked, he found it easy to amass friends but he was nauseated by stress whenever he was teased too heavily or accurately. his entire world spinning, unable to speak, to breathe until he fled. 

as a child it was simply his nature spurring him to use his veela charm to try to sow hope and camaraderie in a room, as his time on the front lines grew he started to actively hone it to stop morale from tanking after bad losses. he had a habit of making people rally with one of his freckled hands on their shoulder.

always found it difficult not to be liked so the harsh reality of war made everything seem very overwhelming. he tried to remain unperturbed and threw himself into the pragmatics of the infantry. known for charging back inside or through battlefields plucking order members off the floor and physically carrying them to healer triage. a skilled fighter, best with magics that lend to altering the mind/illusions etc.

lives in a tent nomadically accompanying a wild abraxan herd since the attack, also collects dragon census data to ensure no native species are under current threat from the enemy. collects wild herbology samples and makes sure the habitats are healthy. he is an excellent watercolourist, paints landscapes as well as fauna and flora. occasionally sketches visitors.

accomplished quidditch chaser. plays the piano.

before he turned he was obsessed with taking polaroids with his film camera, he has about 900 total that he still keeps catalogued but he looks a them far less than he used to. they cut with a keener edge now. anyone close to louis would have been given some of these.

has a crup named chipie or 'chip', who has three legs and just sort of trots along behind louis most places. very well behaved... most of the time.

two-three years ago during a battle, louis was dragged off as a trophy to be bitten by a werewolf, if this could have happened in front of other order members i'm sure the de would have made it so. keeping parts of what happened that night fluid enough that some parts are almost [wanted connections]

reticent and world-weary nowadays, he has lost some of the naive precocious, almost bolshy nature he retained beforehand. never kisses and tells but still often charms his way into beds at safehouses if he has no known enemies in residence.

something changed in him after the attack, after he survived. those who had known him watched him draw back behind an impenetrable shield overnight. the realisation that he was dangerous now, fundamentally changed.

it is interesting, as the veela magic and the werewolf curse interact the charm still perpetuates but only one person so far and those who are very sensitive will feel a threatening predatory undertone to the enticing that was never there before.

a recovering people-pleaser who finds it incredibly difficult to lay out boundaries or know how he feels about anything in the moment. trying his best.

CONNECTION IDEAS

Experimenting on his werewolf form to provide better weapons against the other side's lycanthropes. Yes, this is fucked up, yes I need it.

Honey don't feed it, (he will come back) who is letting him darken their doorway? And why do they know better babe? 

A rivalry (maybe originated in quidditch) hate? Or do they have mad chemistry? Did they used to be friends? (maybe i'm thinking about challengers MB)

Someone who used to be Lou's friend or at least neutral on him who is now terrified of him due to their own past dark experiences with werewolves.  

Magizoologist? You might rarely spot this ginger motherfucker striding quietly up and down hillsides with his quill taking notes beside him. 

Someone who he was hooking up with/closer with who he ghosted after he got mauled and came to terms with his new affliction.

there's a curse comes with a kiss, the bite that binds the gift that gives.

[loonysama]

I posted 2,091 times in 2022

That's 1,879 more posts than 2021!

155 posts created (7%)

1,936 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@true--north

@annaofthenorthernlights

@bad-at-names-and-faces

@sasstrid-and-dorkcup

@alondradina

I tagged 1,084 of my posts in 2022

Only 48% of my posts had no tags

#frozen - 473 posts

#kristanna - 285 posts

#frozen fanfic - 247 posts

#anna - 112 posts

#kristoff - 89 posts

#frozen fan art - 79 posts

#elsa - 48 posts

#fanfic - 45 posts

#asked and answered - 32 posts

#tangled - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 112 characters

#and i'd like everyone to know that i've never even been the slightest bit sad that we never had a christmas tree

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Kristanna Love Songs Mixtape Challenge -

Week 1 Master Post

Each of the fics in this Valentine's Day collection are based on love songs. They are being posted throughout the next two weeks, leading up to Valentine's Day, so keep an eye out! I'll blog another master post on Valentine's Day.

Sign-ups are still open! I've extended sign-ups since we still have so many unclaimed prompts.

Click here to view the entire Kristanna Mixtape Collection and sign-up.

This Will Be Our Year @hyggscribbles [“This Will Be Our Year” by the Zombies] It’s 1933 and America is not doing great. In the throes of what would come to be known as the Great Depression, Kristoff Bjorgman is struggling to see the positive in life…until he comes home to his wife and she helps him realize how much they have that can’t ever be taken away.

Let the Wind Carry You Away @loonysama ["Catch the Wind" by Donovan] Sgt. Bjorgman knows better than to chase after Anna Gale, a protester who captures his attention when she stuffs a blossom in the barrel of his gun, but he allows himself to get carried away anyway. 1960s Arendelle AU. NSFW

Like We’ve never Met @true–north (@winter_moon on AO3) [“We’ve Never Met” by Neko Case"] An exploration of that deleted Nokk-drowning-Kristoff scene from the first drafts of Frozen 2.

Strange @hyggescribbles [“Strange” by Celeste"] The song asks “Isn’t it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again.” Kristoff gets a sharp taste of that strangeness as a love from his past appears unexpectedly one night…with someone else.

I Touch Myself @hyggescribbles ["I Touch Myself" by The Divinyls] Anna teaches pole dancing at a fitness studio. Kristoff teaches mixed martial arts (MMA) at the studio next door. While they've run into each other outside their studios and exchanged a few words, nothing has really happened...in real life. What happens when they are each home alone, however, is a totally different story. NSFW

Intrusted Hearts @annaofthenorthernlights ["You'll Be in My Heart" by Phil Collins, from Tarzan] A tragic accident in early childhood leaves Kristoff growing up with a special family, when magically Anna – the princess of Arendelle – spins into his life while she´s trying to find a better life… NSFW

Hungry Eyes and Moving Hips @annaofthenorthernlights ["Hungry Eyes" by Eric Carmen (from Dirty Dancing)] Kristoff and Anna get to know each other rather unconventionally... (ie, ballroom dancing, hot dancing, vacation job, in the bathtub, in the shower, in the car...) NSFW

Happy Valentine's Day, Kristanna Fandom!

28 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#4

Do you ever put off writing the next chapter because you're so attached to your characters that it actually hurts you to feel their feelings and you know what you're about to do to them and you just know it'll turn you into a giant puddle, so you save it for a time when you're equipped to handle those emotions, but you're never really able to handle it?

29 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#3

Fanfic Master List

52 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

#2

68 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Woe is Your Master

Woe is Your Master

Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Non-Con, Underage Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Tyler Galpin Characters: Wednesday Addams, Tyler Galpin Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Plot What Plot, Femdom, Chains, Bondage, Hurt No Comfort, First Time (view more tags at AO3) Words: 2,587

Summary:  Wednesday needs to know who Tyler's master is, and she'll extract the information by any means necessary.  Or... What if Sheriff Galpin hadn’t interrupted Wednesday’s investigation?

Read @ AO3

120 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[bigfrozensix]

It’s kinda ironic how my fave F2 Anna outfit (and one of my top fave Anna outfits in general) isn’t even in the movie.

I prefer the design of her travel outfit, but prefer the colours of her queen outfit, and this post-F2 outfit from the storybooks is a perfect combo of those two outfits, while still being different enough to be it’s own thing.

I’m just sad that (at least for now) we only have this outfit in illustrations, not animation. I would love to see what this outfit could’ve looked like in the movie.

[beatrice1979a]

Kristoff Bjorgman and Ryder Nattura - Frozen 2

Some Rydoff for Pride Month.   

ps. Yes, I’m being unfaithful with Anna on her Bday.  But I’m totally feeling Rydoff this week.  And I need more Ryder fanart.  I think I have seen EVERY single Ryder art on the internet. And it’s just not enough.

[kristoffsqueen]

“Hey! Get outta there.”

[discnchant]

THE MOST HONOURABLE EARL KRISTOFF AND COUNTESS ANNA OF ARENDELLE ARE PROUD TO PRESENT THEIR CHILD, LADY ASTRID BJORGMAN, FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE NURTURING AND CONSCIENTIOUS, BUT CAN ALSO BE OVERPROTECTIVE AND GULLIBLE. AND IT’S SAID THEY BARE A REMARKABLE RESEMBLANCE TO KENNEDY MCMANN, BUT THAT’S MERELY A COINCIDENCE. WE’RE SURE THEY’LL CAUSE QUITE A STIR IN THE TON THIS YEAR, BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Astrid Iduna Bjorgman Mattias NICKNAME(S): N/A AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 12/24/1800 GENDER: Ciswoman PRONOUNS: She/Her HOMETOWN: Arendelle, North Auradon

BIOGRAPHY

DEATH AND GRIEF TW

arendelle was one of the... odder providences of auradon, if there were any. while some grand houses held the acquaintanceship of fairy godmothers and dwarves, dog-like creatures, and talking crabs, there were few that could boast a menagerie of sentient snow men, trolls who were self proclaimed love experts, the literal elements, or the fact that a literal reindeer was treated like a member of the family and had a seat at the dinner table. arendelle was an old land, but a mighty unconventional one. so it bothers astrid that she’s sort of normal in comparison. she doesn’t have her mother’s exuberant quirky energy, instead she inherited a quiet sensibility from her father. but she did have anna’s fierce loyalty and stubborn streak, as well as her sense of selflessness. she figured if she faced the ordeals her dearest mother had when she were around her age, astrid may prove to be as brave as her as well. but it was the 19th century, and positively nothing was that bad following the cauldron war. so she grew up quiet and sweet and incredibly gentle. motherly was a term most often associated with her, nurturing and warm.

she spent much of her youth traversing the safer parts of the enchanted forest, visiting with her aunts elsa and honeymaren, and the members of the northuldra tribe. she watched the earth giants slowly walk through the trees, giggled as gale blew her, her brother and cousin up in the air, snuggled the warm bruni, and watched the nokk from afar in utter awe. if they were not visiting family in the enchanted forest, then they were spending time with their father kristoff’s adopted family, the trolls, hearing stories of the past and the magic that flows nearby. or at the very least, she was following after her brother alongside that silly sentient snowman, uncle olaf, who, hilariously enough, was astrid’s god father. whatever they did, there was always something happening with the bjorgmans. family was incredibly important so they spent all their time focused on each other.

(strike out below to be updated with new information shortly)

astrid adores none quite as much as her brother eivor. two years his junior, she looks up to him and deeply admires him. he was in a way the first person she mothered. where she was warm and gentle, eivor was more reckless and adventurous. she worried after him, even as a young child, and such a worry continues even into adulthood. she’s aware he is a grown man and can take care of himself, but it doesn’t stop her from checking in on him, fixing up his hair or anything out of place on his appearance, and making sure he’s healthy and well; bringing him homemade baked goods and the like, questioning whether he has had enough sleep. family was the focal point for the arendellians, and this manifested so strongly in how she attempted to look after him, though there are other reasons some argue astrid focuses too hard on eivor and their cousin (to be elaborated below)

the same dedicated watchfulness extended of course to jissika. astrid loves her brother, as previously illustrated, but she certainly wished she had a sister to emulate the relationship her mother and aunt shared. luckily she was given the next best thing in her cousin. while they didn’t live exactly close, anna and elsa made sure to raise their families closely, and so she spent a lot of time growing up with jissika. their bond felt less like cousins and more sisterly, at least she tried to make it so. it was exciting for her to have her cousin join them when they went into town. another young lady around was never a bad thing, especially if eivor was too occupied with lordship duties.

in short; she’s just a big family oriented softie.

it is somewhat surprising to see astrid in society again, especially since she hadn’t really been on the scene for seven years. but it was not for scandalous or odd reasons she had been so scarce in auradon city. following the close of her first season, at the tender age of 18, astrid had done exactly that which every young lady aspires to: she married. when she’d debuted in the spring of 1818, a doe eyed redhead anxious to appear before the queen, she’d not been exactly the most coveted young lady. she wasn’t deemed the diamond of the season, and she didn’t catch the eye of many a suitor. just enough to be called on and relatively busy for the better part of the season, but nothing too astonishing. she didn’t really seem eager to build connections anyway, though it wasn’t exactly because she didn’t like the men she met. the truth was that they just didn’t hold a candle to the object of her affections, the same young man she’d cared for since she was but a young girl running about in her village: dilon mattias, the son of the general destin mattias who lead security for the earl and countess of arendelle. not even the dandiest of lords could keep her attention from the strapping lieutenant back home. when he’d finally gained the courage to travel to auradon city to ask her hand, astrid ended her season swiftly and prepared to marry the only boy she thought could ever hold her fancy.

their’s was a charmed and blissful happiness, a match made out of love instead of obligation or nobility. as the younger daughter of an earl, it didn’t quite matter if she married for status anyway — and given her father was once an ice harvester, what did it matter of the humble origin or occupation of her spouse? what mattered to astrid was that she was happy, happy and in love with a wonderful man who she would spend the rest of her happily ever after with. what neither knew was that happily ever after would be far more short than any anticipated. she swears she remembers so little of that day and yet she has a strong impression of the feelings and notions of it. she had been fast asleep, in the east wing of her family’s estate which she and her husband had occupied for five years now. it was a quiet and peaceful morning; the sun had been barely up and the sky was a dull gray. it was early winter, and a frost had settled upon arendelle over night. it would snow all day, and she would trouble dilon to go on a sleigh ride through the fresh snow later on once it settled. all was well... but as she slept lightly, a terrible feeling settled into astrid’s stomach. feeling sickly and sour, she woke with a start and reached beside her.... only to find an empty space instead of a warm body. upon the pillow lay a long note which she hastily read. a goodbye, should the events of that morning not go well.

the details are lost to her, and dilon’s confidant from that morning has yet to give her the peace of mind by telling her exactly what caused it. all she knows is this, sometime between all their bliss and happiness, dilon and another soldier had a falling out of sorts, which accumulated in a duel. they drew pistols at dawn, and dilon, afraid of the consequences as duels were outlawed and there was always a chance one wouldn’t return, did not dare speak a word to her about it. he had only revealed the plan in a letter left behind that very morning. realizing that dawn was upon her, astrid hurried to leave and find him, to stop the nonsense and preserve her happiness. but as she pulled on a coat and ran to get sven from his pen, there was already a footman leading a distraught soldier to the drawing room, followed by a servant calling on her. she didn’t meet with that man. she didn’t have to. she knew instantly upon news that one of her husband’s friends was there to meet with her what had happened. she can’t recall how long she was left there crumpled on the stables floor, sobbing, but it had been for most of that morning. tragedy struck, in an avoidable stupid way.

that was a year ago. the period for mourning, according to society, had now long passed, though astrid feels that she’s still in the throw of it at times. per her family’s suggestion, she has arrived in auradon city for the social season as a way to break out of her grief and socialize with her peers. she finds it somewhat humiliating, as it’s obvious that’s not the only reason she’s out again. to be a spinster is bad enough, but to be such a young widow can be an awkward predicament to find oneself in at court. the bjorgmans would like to see their daughter remarried and happy again. except to some people she is damaged goods, far too old and not handsome enough to tempt a second chance. she herself doesn’t entertain the idea. she had her one grand love, it would be selfish to expect another. instead she goes to be in the company of her cousin and brother, and the friends she’s made at court, to make new friends among the shadowborn and to play the part of a loving supportive role to the others seeking matches that season. it hurts her less to focus on their happiness than to think of herself and what she’s lost. it is for that reason alone she tolerates her return, tolerates being called by her maiden name instead of by her married one. as though the best way to forget is to erase it and pretend as though it never happened, something she has not come to terms with at all.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic FAMILY: Kristoff Bjorgman (father), Anna Bjorgman (mother), TBD Bjorgman (Brother), Elsa Kristiansen (aunt), Honeymaren Kristiansen (aunt), TBD Kristiansen (cousin), Dilon Mattias (husband, deceased), General Destin Mattias (father-in-law), Halima Mattias (mother-in-law) FACE CLAIM: Kennedy McMann HEIGHT: 5′8″ TITLE: Lady Bjorgman, Widow Mattias (though the family suggested she return to her maiden name to better her prospects at a second match) PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbd

[professorspork]

fic prompt + daily queenly duties

Well, this one definitely got away from me a little bit…

—-

The day starts at dawn. Not with an alarm, but nevertheless, like clockwork–

“Ouch! Ah, jeez–”

Kristoff opens an eye to watch Anna hop around on one foot, holding her stubbed toe in both hands as she inhales sharply and tries to keep from crying out any further.

“Did you kick the chair again?”

Realizing she has an audience, Anna puts her foot down and attempts to look regal and put-together. It’s a losing battle; her hair is all over the place and there’s still a bit of drool on her chin. It’s adorable.

“…No? Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I keep telling you to move it.”

She shakes her head. He watches as she brushes out her tangles and ties her hair in a bun–as his wife fades to the background and the queen emerges in her stead. “If I move it Olaf can’t climb up to read us a bedtime story, and you know how much he loves that. It’s too heavy for him to move by himself.”

“We could always move it after he’s done.”

“Well then I’m comfy and I don’t want to leave bed.”

“I could move it.”

She smiles at him, winsome. “The bed’s comfy because you’re in it.”

He sees his chance and gives it his best shot–lifts up the covers to show his bare chest; the inviting spot on her side of the bed she’s just vacated. “I’m still in it now, y'know.”

Her nose scrunches as her face can’t decide whether to be playfully disapproving or to flirt right back. “You’re a terrible influence, Kristoff Bjorgman.”

“Yes, but I’m your terrible influence.”

Unable to suppress her grin at him any longer, she leans over the aforementioned chair just long enough to peck him on the lips, then disappears behind her privacy screen to change.

“What’s on the docket today?” he asks. On the other side of the divider, the vague outline of her silhouette disappears under layers of fabric.

“Oh, um. Open petitions this morning, and then a sit-down with the Stonecutter’s Guild. I guess some of the young apprentices are freaked out ever since meeting the Earth Giants because they’re worried all rocks have feelings? Which: they might, honestly. I’m going to have to ask Elsa–remind me to send her a note before breakfast, okay? Oh, and then tonight is the solstice pageant.”

“Can’t forget that.”

“Don’t be mean!”

“I’m not,” he laughs. “I’m genuinely looking forward to it.”

Queen Anna emerges from the other side of the wardrobe. “Well, good. Alright, I’ve got to check in with the castle staff and get my day going. I’ll see you downstairs?”

“Of course.”

-

Only she doesn’t, because by the time he actually makes it to the dining room he learns she’s long gone–she’s skipped breakfast to go deal with some issue at the fjord, two ships double-booked for the same dock and each refusing to yield to the other.

Sounds about par for the course.

Shaking his head, he wanders down to the kitchens for a sandwich or two, scribbles out a note for Elsa, and heads out to the dell where Gale likes to gambol and play most mornings. Anna’s better at finding Gale than Kristoff is; more than once he’s caught her laughing at him for talking to a stiff breeze that was simply that, and nothing more. It takes up more of his morning than he’d like, but eventually he feels the telltale tickle under his chin that he’s in the presence of the wind spirit.

“Hey. I know Elsa’s coming down tonight, but Anna’s got a question that can’t wait until then. Do you mind?”

Gale blows his hat right off his head, which he takes to mean don’t be silly. Or possibly how dare you, I’m very insulted, but hopefully not. Like he said: he’s not as good at this as Anna.

“Thanks,” he says, and he opens his palm to let the gusts carry his note away. He watches until it’s disappeared past the treeline, just in case.

He heads back to the castle, arriving just as the sun hits its zenith. Anna hates these short winter days, he knows–doesn’t like the idea of the dark outweighing the light. The solstice will be good for her; every day from here on out a little brighter than the last.

Open petitions are in full swing in the front hall–he lingers in the back for a bit to watch Anna work. Long gone is the single throne and long queue of Agnarr’s day. Elsa rethought the space about three times during her reign, and Anna’s made further changes, since. Now the dais contains a few overstuffed armchairs, and a side table for tea. Anyone who comes to speak to Queen Anna does so in comfort, and on her level. They… chat. Like friends; like equals.

When she wraps up the inquiry she was working on–some sort of misunderstanding about a dowry, and a young couple pretty desperate to give back what sounds like the world’s most ornery goat to the bride’s father–Kristoff strides to the front of the room.

“Sorry folks, just gonna call a quick recess, okay? Ice Master privilege, sorry, I’ll give the Queen back in just a minute.”

Before Anna has a chance to protest, he escorts her out the room and into a side hall.

“What are you doing?” she asks, unable to quite keep the laughter at his antics out of her voice. “I still have like a half-dozen people to see.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Which is why I figured you could probably use a pick-me-up.” With that, he takes the wrapped sandwiches from this morning from his satchel.

Her shoulders drop in relief at the smell of the fresh-baked bread; she immediately snatches one from his hands and starts scarfing it down. “Oh my gosh, I’m starving. How did you know?”

He knows because it’s his job to know. Anna takes care of Arendelle. Kristoff takes care of Anna. It’s as simple as that.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have skipped breakfast, feistypants.”

“Duty called,” she shrugs, unapologetically talking with her mouth full. “And hey, that’s ‘Queen Feistypants’ to you.”

“Apologies, your Majesty,” he teases, dropping into a low, ostentatious bow. His hat falls off with the movement, but when he goes to pick it up, it dances away from his hand.

“Wait, what? Oh, for–Gale!” he groans, and snatches at the air as the wind plays keep-away with him. “C'mon, give it back.”

Anna slaps her forehead. “Oh no, I was supposed to ask–oh,” she blinks as Kristoff’s parchment falls daintily into her hand, Elsa’s reply scribbled on the back. “Thanks.” She scans the note quickly. “Well, apparently there’s some sort of knocking test you can do to see if a rock has the spirit or not; Ryder can come down and teach it to the guild members. That’s easy enough.”

Kristoff raises an eyebrow. “Ryder has to tell these kids 'only dead rocks don’t knock back?’”

“They’re not dead rocks, they’re never-been-alive rocks. Totally different.” She polishes off the last of her sandwich and–when she gives him a plaintive, puppydog look–the last few bites of his, as well. “Okay, I’d better get back to work. Catch up with you tonight; thanks again, love you!”

And then there’s a quick kiss and she’s gone, like the whirling dervish she is. Or maybe that’s just Gale, chasing along behind her.

-

He’s at loose ends for the rest of his day–an ice harvester doesn’t tend to have as much to do, in the winter–and decides to ride out and meet Elsa halfway. Sven brays happily at the opportunity to go full speed, and before long they’re racing through fresh powdery snow. Just for the thrill, just for the fun of it. It is in these moments–bitter wind stinging at his face, the world whooshing past him in a rush–that Kristoff thinks he best understands the two women who make up his family. The freedom of speed and cold air and ground under your feet. The joy of going as fast as you can, because you trust your own legs to carry you. Or, y'know. Sven’s legs, as the case may be.

Anna’s the one who’s good at metaphors. He’s just along for the ride.

He hears them approach before he sees them–Ryder shouting out a Northuldra call-and-response song, a children’s rhyme about reindeer. Elsa’s voice chimes in on the refrains–hesitant, tremulous, happy. Like she’s still not quite certain she remembers all the words, but she’s so pleased to be included she can’t help but try anyway. It brings a full-toothed grin to Kristoff’s face, unbidden; he dismounts as they crest the ridge ahead and come into view.

“Kristoff!” the two shout in messy union, then immediately engage in a race to get to him first. The Nokk leaves Ryder in the dust; in moments, Kristoff’s got an armful of ex-Queen as Elsa jumps down into his arms.

“Hey,” he laughs, “I missed you, too.”

“What about my Kristoff hugs?” Ryder pouts as he catches up. Elsa squeezes Kristoff just a little bit tighter.

“Get your own. This one’s a family heirloom.”

“Imagine if I played that card every time you hugged Honeymaren,” Ryder teases slyly, and Kristoff bites back a laugh at the way Elsa turns bright, bright red. She lets him go and draws herself up to her full height, clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders. All he sees is Anna pulling the same maneuver that morning, and he can’t help it–the giggles escape, despite his best efforts.

“That’s quite enough of that,” she grumbles, re-mounting her horse. “We should get going or we’ll be late.”

Ryder settles for a fist-bump, in the meantime, and the three of them turn and make their way back towards Arendelle.

-

It seems like the whole town has turned out for the solstice pageant, the amphitheater down by the fjord filled with the buzz of proud families waiting for the kids to begin. Anna’s saved a whole passel of seats toward the front–piled high with cloaks to stop other people from sitting there. As though people might edge in on the Queen’s saved seats.

Kristoff feels his heart melt for her that much more.

Elsa and Anna do their usual song and dance at being reunited, prompting good-natured eye-rolls from everyone around them, and then the lights go down and the curtains come up. They hurriedly fall into their chairs as the schoolmaster comes out on stage.

“Hello parents, friends, and families! As you know, the children have been working hard on our little revue these past few weeks, and they’re very eager to share it with all of you. Enjoy!”

All the students shuffle out, holding hands. And there, standing among them, is Olaf–clearly scanning the crowd for their friendly faces. Anna lets out a whoop, and he positively beams at them.

Kristoff crosses his fingers. “Here we go,” he murmurs under his breath.

Olaf had been begging for the chance to go to school for ages now–but after he learned to read, they kind of ran out of excuses not to let him. The other children are more than used to his presence, and he loves coming home every day with new facts to share with all of them. Honestly, he’s thriving–though he had been heartbroken not to get the part of the Spirit of Summer to Come in the solstice pageant, cast instead as, perhaps predictably enough, a snowman.

Olaf nails every single one of his lines; at one point, Anna elbows Kristoff in the ribs, eyes mirthful, and he realizes he’s been mouthing along with them the whole time. After the final song, they all jump to their feet and cheer. Elsa puts her fingers to her lips and whistles loud, just the way Kristoff taught her.

-

The rest of the evening is a blur–Olaf dangling between Anna and Kristoff’s hands as they all walk home; Elsa and Ryder talking over each other at dinner in their eagerness to share all they’re learning about Ahtohallan; a lively game of Twister that Anna wins easily (Olaf being disqualified after detaching his arm to reach left hand blue). Ryder and Anna make plans to meet back up with the stonecutters first thing the next day, as Anna will be swamped the whole of the afternoon with trade delegation meetings. Kristoff has to all but drag her away before she can promise away what little free time she has left to making final adjustments on plans for the New Year’s ball in the coming days–“that’s tomorrow-you’s problem,” he reminds her, and she lets herself be led away by the hand.

And then finally, at long last, it’s just the two of them. 

This, perhaps, is Kristoff’s favorite moment of the day: when Anna takes off her crown, lets down her hair, and curls up against him. Just Anna, no more, no less.

“I’m e-e-exhausted,” she yawns, burying her face in his shoulder, and he drops a kiss onto her forehead.

“Just one more queenly duty for the day,” he chuckles, before calling out “Okay buddy, we’re ready!” towards the door.

The quiet sound that had served as background noise throughout their nightly routine, of Olaf counting to one thousand on the other side of the door, goes quiet. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m only at eight hundred and thirty four.”

“Come on in, Olaf,” Anna laughs, and he does–dragging the book they’ve been reading behind him. On little snowball feet, he makes his way to the bed and, as Anna knows he likes to, clambers up onto the bedside chair before perching on the armrest.

“Are you ready?” Olaf asks, his eager smile pulling a little to one side, just like Elsa’s does. At their nods he begins: “Chapter Eight: The Enigma Becomes Doubly Mysterious. The child had laid her head on a stone and fallen asleep…” They gasp in all the right places as Jean Valjean realizes Cosette’s gone icy cold in the snow and cannot be roused; when the chapter ends on a cliffhanger, they even let him read on, until they know Cosette is safe. “One more?” he asks hopefully when he reaches the end of chapter nine, but he takes it with grace when Anna shakes her head–finishing their ritual by giving each of them a hug and lugging off his book, closing the door soundly behind him.

“I still feel like giving him that book was probably a mistake,” Kristoff chuckles.

“The schoolmaster says his vocabulary is improving too fast for us to hold him back.”

“Yeah, but Les Miserables?”

“He’s tough; he can handle it,” she says with certainty, and, well: the Queen has spoken. Who is Kristoff to argue?

Out of habit, his hand drifts up; he traces a delicate line with his pinky from the top of Anna’s forehead to the tip of her nose, once, and then again. Her gaze goes dreamy and disoriented, her blinks growing longer–and then her eyes narrow and she frowns, shaking him off. “Hey, quit it.”

“Quit what?” he teases, but she’s sitting up now, climbing into his lap to straddle him, and–oh.

“One more thing to check off my to-do list before bed,” she murmurs into his mouth, and oh, that’s awful, but–

Somehow, he just doesn’t have it in him to complain.

[theseerasures]

what are the styles and conventions of putting fic on tumblr?? i don’t know anymore

quick thing i jotted in response to this art from a few days ago:

It takes a while for Anna to realize.

Well, actually--it takes until Kristoff points it out to her, but y’know. it’s not too, too obvious. She doesn’t send that many letters into the forest, because she’s busy doing queen stuff and she knows Elsa’s busy doing protector-guardian-magic-nature stuff, and Gale’s probably also busy being...wind. None of them have the time to just send silly notes back and forth all the time (just sometimes). And...well. Anna’d like to think that they don’t need to anymore, that her love is getting less and less fragile, too.

Add that to the fact that half the time Anna sends Elsa a letter it is to invite her sister over, and. Yeah. Kristoff.

They'd been having their regular lunch date, catching each other up on what was already done and what there was left to do. Anna had mentioned, offhand, that she’d written Elsa a note the night before to ask about some old land rights issue her council was squabbling over, and Kristoff had replied, just as offhand, that he’d let the staff know to set another place at dinner, and Anna had been so touched at how thoughtful he was being and so proud at how awesome and in-tune and efficient they were being together that she’d totally missed the implications until three conversation topics later. “Wait, what? Who’s coming over?”

Kristoff had looked at her like she was being obtuse on purpose. “You just told me you sent Elsa a letter.”

“Yeah, but it was just a question about the year. She can send me the answer with a note.”

“She can,” Kristoff had agreed, “But c’mon, Anna. Can you think of a time when Elsa didn’t answer a note from you face-to-face?”

“Yes,” Anna had immediately replied with one hundred percent confidence, but then she’d actually thought about it, and...no, actually. Ever since they started living apart Elsa comes over like clockwork, within 48 hours of Anna sending her a letter. Whenever Anna sends her a letter, even when Anna just wants to vent about queen stuff or ask where Elsa’d stashed her leftover birthday chocolate since obviously she’d forfeited rights to them by moving out (that time Elsa had ridden all the way back to Arendelle just to yell from the grounds that Anna was never going to find her chocolate in a million years, which--fine, fair, chocolate is Sacred). It’s just a thing that Elsa does, one on top of several, and Anna hadn’t really paid attention to it until now.

Then of course Elsa does show up for dinner that night, even apologizing for being late (late for what?), because she’d been doing...something. She’s trying to tell them, but it’s mostly just contextless details and Anna can’t really make heads or tails of it, except that it happened a long ways from Arendelle and Elsa’d ridden through the night before to make it over here. She looks happy and fulfilled and smells like crisp wintry air and Anna is ecstatic to see her, even if Kristoff keeps smirking about being right, which is ten levels of distractingly annoying and thirty levels annoyingly distracting and makes it harder for Anna to follow Elsa’s story during dinner or concentrate during their quick game of Pictionary after.

And okay, fine; it’s also hard to focus because Anna’s still kind of thinking about it. Why does Elsa come back every time, even though she clearly has other stuff going on and can just write back?

It’s not like Elsa can’t write (she was queen, duh--that’d be crazy if she couldn’t). Maybe it’s just hard to find a pen when she’s gallivanting all over the nature? But that seems silly, too--it’s not like Elsa can’t magic another pocket into her dress to carry something to write with, and even if she can’t it’d still be easier to just find a pen compared to riding all the way to the castle. Maybe she just misses Gerda’s cooking?

Or maybe, a niggling little voice whispers in the back of her head, she comes back all the time because she thinks you can’t handle being in charge.

Something nudges her, snaps her out of it. “You okay?” Elsa asks, “You looked miles from here.”

“Yeah!” Anna says at once. They’re in the library now, trying to dig up the book that Elsa thinks might be relevant to the land thing, and this for some reason makes her stomach tighten even more. Elsa is just better at the record-keeping paperwork stuff; Anna is trying--brushing up on all the boring numbers work she’d slept through as a kid--but it all seems to evaporate in her head. Maybe she isn’t doing a good enough job as queen; Father probably never had to write any family members for legal advice.

She looks over at her sister again. Elsa looks...tired. Not all used up, like she sometimes did in the early days after the Thaw when she was trying to work away all her bad feelings ever, but still. Tired. Like she’d spent the night before on horseback and is staying up late again to pick up the slack for Anna.

“Elsa,” she finally says. She’s being dumb, and even if--even if she isn’t completely off the mark there are better ways to deal with this than having whole big insecurity parades in her head. “You know you can just write back to me, right?”

Apparently that hadn’t been the best way to open this conversation, because Elsa stiffens right up. “Oh,” she says, her eyes still fixed on the book in her lap.

“Not that--not that I don’t want you here!” Anna immediately says, wincing as she hears her own voice leap two octaves in her rush to reassure. “I just mean that. Um.” She tugs on one of braids, then just lets it all out: “IknowIaskforhelpwithalotofqueenstuff--”

“Anna!” Great, now Elsa’s at least making eye contact, but she also looks really alarmed. “Slow down.”

She takes a deep, settling breath. “I just. Kristoff said that you always come over whenever I send you Gale letters, and I thought about it, and I think he’s right, so I just wondered. We have a magic wind note-passer, but you never use her, and I guess I’m wondering...why?”

Elsa’s turned back to the book in her lap, keeps flipping through the pages even though Anna knows she’s not really reading. When she does look up again she’s wearing the Face. It’s the thinking-about-bad-times face, where her expression is strained and her mouth twitches non-stop, like she’s trying to figure out if she’s allowed to frown and be upset or should smile and reassure herself that it’s over.

(Apparently Anna has a version of it, too; Kristoff had tried to mimic it once and Anna had laughed so hard she’d started crying, and then couldn’t stop, even after he’d picked her up and held her close to his chest.)

The Face shows up less and less now, but Anna still knows it on sight, and it makes her even more nervous. She opens her mouth to say something, but Elsa beats her to it. “You used to write me notes,” she says, quiet as her arms curl around her own torso. “Remember?”

Anna blinks. “Of course.” The Olaf Christmas cards, obviously, and then there was that time, a little after she’d turned thirteen, when she decided that if Elsa wouldn’t look at her maybe they could at least write each other. She started slipping all kinds of little scraps under the locked door, and it even seemed kind of exciting, like having a friend from faraway. Then months went by without Elsa ever writing back, and Anna gave up.

She gave up a lot on Elsa, back in the day. It never stuck.

But that--Anna’s stomach might just be a shriveled up ball now, with how much it keeps clenching--that feels even worse, because what does that make her if Elsa’s doing all of this because she feels guilty? She’s not just a bad queen, then; she’s--some kind of needy leech, another obligation weighing her sister down. “That’s what this is?” she asks, feeling her voice shake with...she’s not sure. “You’re trying to make up for before?”

“No!” Elsa replies, her eyes wide. “It’s not that."

“Then what is it?” Anna demands. Maybe it’s anger that she’s feeling, actually, at herself and at Elsa, because they keep trying to work through this but it always ends up boomeranging back.

Elsa just looks at her for a moment, bewildered, before she sighs. “I couldn’t write to you back then, but I didn’t want to, either. You were right there, on the other side of my door, and I wanted to see you. Talk to you. I hated that I still wanted to do that, and I hated that I was making you...concoct all these elaborate plans to talk to me even though we were under the same roof. So now, whenever I get your notes...I just want to see you. We don’t live in the same place anymore, but I have the Nokk, and what’s the point of having a magic horse if I can’t visit my sister whenever I want, right? So I guess I...”

She looks away again, worrying her bottom lip. “I know it’s silly,” she continues hesitantly. Then her shoulders square up. “And I can stop, Anna, if you think I’m crowding you or intruding on your--”

“No!” Anna replies immediately, throwing her arms around her sister. “You’re not--I thought you were coming back because you thought I couldn’t handle being on my own.”

Elsa tenses in Anna’s grip before twisting around to give her a Look. “Anna, that’s ridiculous.”

Anna rolls her eyes. “Sure, Miss I-can’t-just-tell-my-sister-I-miss-her-I-have-to-launch-into-our-tragic-backstory-and-almost-give-her-a-heart-attack.”

She feels more than see Elsa’s tiny huff of amusement. “Pretty long last name we have there.”

“Well, you know. With the royal-thing, and the half-Northuldra-thing...”

“And you still want to add Bjorgman to the end?” Elsa laughs, even as Anna jabs a finger into her side, but when they settle again she’s serious. “I’m sorry. For.”

Anna shrugs. It’s forgiveness and I’m sorry too and thank you for explaining all rolled into one, and Elsa seems to get that. “We’re still kinda in the middle of it, huh?”

It comes out a little wistful. Elsa makes a little hm sound, and then scooches in even closer. “Yeah. Getting better, though.”

Anna smiles and laces Elsa’s bare fingers with her own. “All the time,” she agrees.

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

One of the things I love about your series is the hundreds of details you have, especially naming background characters. Do you just come up with names on the spot when you write or do you have a list of names you use?

Hi there! Great question on world building. I don’t know what other authors do but I legit have five million lists of characters for the five million realms that are in the OUAT reality. Like the amount of rosters I have are absurd and I do have randomly named characters on there because I doubt everyone is related to everyone we know. A lot of these background characters have parents who are obscure characters in the universe whose names I could find on the OUAT wikipedia page. So like there’s a bunch of characters like “Peter Peter” or “M. McRae” who are just in the background, so I gave them kids that are also just in the background just to make it realistic and fleshed out. I do keep track of who I mention and what I mention for them so I don’t get confused, but sometimes I do pick random names off the roster to talk about life events. (Ex. one of Harrison’s classmates had a father who was in a car accident and died. The father was Dr. Thatcher - who was a vet at the animal shelter in the first season of OUAT.)

Another weird thing I do is when a character doesn’t have a surname, I gave them the surname of the actor who plays them. Like Katheryn Nolan’s love interest Frederick/Jim doesn’t have a last name so I have him the last name Holt, because the author who plays him was Grayson Holt. It’s just a weird thing I do, just in case you were wondering where the fuck I came up with surnames. 

I’ll give you an example of what my rosters look like just below the cut:

Storybrooke Kids:

Harrison Jones, son of Killian Jones and Emma Swan

Westley “Wes” Jones, son of Killian Jones and Emma Swan

Elizabeth “Beth” Jones, daughter of Killian Jones and Emma sWAN

Edward “Ned” Jones, son of Killian Jones and Emma Swan

Neal Nolan, son of David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard

Ruth “Ruthie” Nolan, daughter of David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard

Robert “Robbie” Nolan, son of David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard

Gideon Gold, son of Robert Gold and Belle French

Robin “Bobbi” Mills, daughter of Robin Locksley and Zelena Mills

Alexandra “Lexa” Herman, daughter of Ashley Boyd and Sean Herman

Thomas “Tommy” Herman, son of Ashley Boyd and Sean Herman

Philip “Phil” Morris, son of Aurora and Philip Morris

Ariadne Holt, daughter of Katheryn Nolan and Jim Holt

Cordelia “Cordy” Holt, daughter of Katheryn Nolan and Jim Holt

Miranda Holt, daughter of Katheryn Nolan and Jim Holt

Thomas “Tom” Rolfe, son of Rebecca Smith and John Rolfe

James “Jamie” Whale, son of Victor Whale

Sylvia “Sylvie” Lucas, adopted daughter of Ruby Lucas and Dorothy Gale

Benjamin “Benny” Booth, son of August Booth

Claire Fitzhubert, daughter of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzhubert

Flynn Fitzhubert, son of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzhubert

Seamus Lloyd, son of Clorinda and Jacob Lloyd

Timothy “Tim” Lloyd, son of Clorinda and Jacob Lloyd

Dean Kelleher, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Derek Kelleher, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Darcy Kelleher, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Dan Kelleher, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Jane Disla, daughter of J. Disla

Paul Peter, son of Peter Peter

Nate Thatcher, son of Dr. Thatcher

Kelia Thatcher, daughter of Dr. Thatcher

Matthew “Matt” Travel, son of Keith Travel/Sheriff of Nottingham

Michael “Mike” Travel, son of Keith Travel/Sheriff of Nottingham

Leah Gozen, daughter of Bill Gozen

Mary Gozen, daughter of Bill Gozen

Katrina “Kat” McRae, daughter of M. McRae and Destinee McRae

Rose “Rosie” McRae, daughter of M. McRae and Destinee McRae

Mallory Page, daughter of Lily Page

Mike Kryszkowski, son of Mr. Kryszkowski

Calvin Kryskowski, son of Mr. Kryskowski

Tessa Kenway, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Clare Bonny, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Emilee “Milee” Cook, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Dorian Richardson, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

John “Johnny” Richardson, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Sabrina Lopez, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Salem Ross, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Salma Ross, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Dane Hughes, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Eric Burkhardt, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Fredrick “Freddy” Burkhardt, son of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Anika Burkhardt, daughter of parents from the Land of Untold Stories

Common/Frequent Next Generation Visitors to Storybrooke

Nasira “Nas” Sultana, daughter of Jasmine and Aladdin (Agrabah)

Malik “Mal” Sultan, son of Jasmine and Aladdin (Agrabah)

Khaled Sultan, son of Jasmine and Aladdin (Agrabah)

Shirin “Rini” Sultana, daughter of Jasmine and Aladdin (Agrabah)

Melody Seaborn, daughter of Ariel and Eric (Enchanted Forrest)

William “Will” Seaborn, son of Ariel and Eric (Enchanted Forrest)

James “Jim” Hawkins, foster son of Captain Long John Silver (Enchanted Forrest)

Callum “Cal” Macintosh, son of Lord Macintosh and Queen Merida (DunBroch)

Magaret “Maggie” Macintosh, daughter of Lord Macintosh and Queen Merida (DunBroch)

Elsie MacGuffin, daughter of Lord MacGuffin (DunBroch)

Kai Oldenburg, son of Elsa (Arendelle)

Josef Bjorgman, son of Anna and Kristoff Bjorgman (Arendelle)

Heidi Bjorgman, daughter of of Anna and Kristoff Bjorgman (Arendelle)

Irma Bjorgman, daughter of of Anna and Kristoff Bjorgman (Arendelle)

Penelope “Penny” Scarlet, daughter of Will Scarlet (Wonderland)

John “Jack” Scarlet, son of Will Scarlet (Wonderland)

Natalia “Nat” Scarlet, daughter of Will Scarlet (Wonderland)

Reuben LaReine, son of Tiana LaReine and Naven (World Without Magic)

Pepper LaReine, daughter of Tiana LaReine and Naven (World Without Magic)

Ginger LaReine, daughter of Tiana LaReine and Naven (World Without Magic)

Hazel LaReine, daughter of Tiana LaReine and Naven (World Without Magic)

William “Billy” Gauthier, Ned’s roommate and teammate from college (World Without Magic)

[mallmarrdlc]

The Bjorgmans also began decorating. Anna decided to get all the youngest children involved in "dressing up" the tree.

[mallmarrdlc]

In the meantime in Windenburg, the Bjorgman children are working on their last school projects before the winter break starts.

[mallmarrdlc]

The Bjorgmans work hard, as well.

[mallmarrdlc]

Homework time!

[mallmarrdlc]

Family breakfast!

[mallmarrdlc]

Back at it again! The homework squad returns!