#Frozen fanzine

[virtual-winter]

It's been 10 years since I first watched Frozen!🌻❄️⛏️☃️🦌

(Swedish DVD-copy of Frozen)

November 20th, 2014. It seems like forever ago. I remember watching this movie through my desktop ASUS PC (remember when computers used to have actual DVD-drives?) on a by today's standards pretty crappy Philips monitor. It didn't matter. The movie was like nothing else I had seen before. Even though I don't even have a sibling and can't fully relate to the conflict, Anna and Elsa's adventure is IMO one of the best stories ever told💕

I was 22 back then. A young man and totally in love with this Disney movie. Now I'm 32 and it continues to be among my favourite movies of all time. Even now, ten years later, I still live and breathe Frozen every day! It is a part of who I became and it is the way I wish to remain 😄

I have become a devoted fan of all things Frozen and I'm trying my best to be a part-time Frozen-analyst, mapmaker, worldbuilder and collector. I'm also known for using too many emotes and exclamation marks!

Below, I have tried to summarise some important and meaningful keepsakes and events from the past ten years. I hope you enjoy scrolling!✨✨✨

I believe this was the first ever Frozen-related pic that I saved (it's the oldest in my album) (April 2015)

I was equally in love with the OUAT Frozen arc and no one can tell me Georgina and Elizabeth were anything but perfect for their roles (April 2015)

🥹🥹🥹

(March 2015)

In just a couple of years we saw the franchise grow (did anyone else prefer the original logo for the musical?) (February 2016)

The official announcement we'd all been waiting for (April 2017)

The architect in me loved the castle! (2017)

I mean, who could ever forget this moment? (December 2018)

AJHFSJASJFKAGKJFGSKFDSGSJF!?!?!?!?!?!? (February 2019)

What are those????? (February 2019)

My first piece of "big" Frozen merch (April 2019)

I made a custom calendar just to count down the remaining days to Frozen II (I also avoided spoilers for the last 6 1/2 months) (December 2019)

🥹🥰😭

(December 2019)

Perfectly balanced, as it should be (February 2020)

Me collecting stuff! (February 2020)

Me going crazy saving as much Frozen content as possible 😅 (August 2020)

I joined r/Frozen (June 2021)

I started my deep-dive into Arendelle's geography in 2021 which ultimately lead to "An odyssey through Frozen geography", the first of many fandom projects! (July 2021)

Together with a group of equally dedicated Frozen nerds fans, I helped building the @arendelle-archives server and later tumblr-blog! (2021)

Collecting more things! (October 2021)

A Frozen comic writer responded to my reddit post?😲(December 2021)

I started developing ideas for a Frozen fanfic (2022)

Frozen III-announcement! Finally! (February 2023)

My Norway-trip of 2023. Without a doubt one of the most beautiful destinations on Earth and a must-go for anyone who wants to visit the real Arendelle!!! (July 2023)

I continue to delve into more map-related stuff in Wonderdraft (May 2024)

Together with the rest of the wonderful folks over at @frozen10fanzine, I helped create and design a fanzine summarising the memories of Frozen fans from the past decade! (July 2024)

A slice of my current Frozen collection! Some figures were very kindly donated to me by @yumeka-sxf 🙌 (July 2024)

And lastly, from today: the first snow of the season❄️🩵

If you made it this far, thank you for scrolling😅

Finally, a little shout-out to friends and acquaintances I've made through the likes of reddit, discord and tumblr in the past few years:

@bigfrozenfan @yumeka-sxf @greatqueenanna @queenritaofarendelle @saiten-gefroren @snowflaketale12 @cloudberriesforaqueen @theartoffrozen @secretsofthestorymakers

A big thank you also to the whole @arendelle-archives and @frozen10fanzine - teams! Y'all continue to inspire me!

[frozen10fanzine]

With her love, Anna could hold up the concert 🎶

[bigfrozenfan]

A Fanzine Celebrating 10 Years of Frozen

It's really done, the Frozen 10th Anniversary Fanzine is finished and you can now download it as a pdf-file here. The outstanding quality of this fanzine and it's scope has inspired me to make the little edit above.

It's a whopping 134 pages (68 double pages in .pdf format), more than the "Water Has Memory" team ever expected, myself included. Full of personal memories and stories of how you experienced the Frozen films and how it changed your life, including fanart and even short fanfics. Plus, spotlights for each anniversary year on what happened between 2013 and 2023, with mood boards for the movies, books and other events surrounding the Frozen franchise.

I've just read through the fanzine in its finished form yesterday, although of course I've already seen the pages in the making, and I have to say, after eight months of teamwork, it's really unique! It was created with so much love, which you can see on every single page and I am thrilled.

I would therefore like to take this opportunity to thank the wonderful "Water Has Memory" team for allowing me to be part of your team since mid-October 2023 and to work on this very important fan project. Thanks also to the Frozen fans for your submissions, without which the fanzine would not have been possible in the first place.

[helene-tolden]

A Drawing A Day Novembre 2024

Jour 25 Congelé

[giommarresi]

Vendetta

This is my illustration made ​​for gelati fanzine festival, early on show in Genoa!

[haleynwriter]

this is partially a repost of a tiktok series i did like two years ago, partially inspired that the high republic fanzine is out and references this!, and partially me expanding on thoughts as a former barista.

anyways, THR phase I characters and their coffee orders. i'll probably forget someone and add them later. my expertise: i was a barista for three years.

no I'm not calling it caf this is all half a joke anyways

Avar Kriss: Typically she just gets a coffee with cream. She can drink coffee black, but it's not her preference. Her actual favorite drink is a vanilla white mocha, but she rarely orders this for herself because she's a busy gal ! (Stellan, Elzar, Maru, and the Ataraxia crew have all clocked this.)

Stellan: he's the tea guy of the firebrands. Loves an english breakfast tea with milk in the morning. Loves a basic green tea in the afternoon. He has a chamomile tea usually as part of his evening meditation. However, after he joins the Council, he begins drinking more and more black and green tea and discards his evening tea routine as he gets more and more overworked.

Elzar: disaster man gets a large iced americano (six shots at the shop I worked at), adds two shots, chugs it immediately. This stresses everyone out.

Reath and Cohmac: they ask so many questions. where did you source your matcha from? Who is their milk supplier? Are the syrups made in house? Do they dry their own petals? They're not trying to be jerks, they're genuinely and actually curious, but the baristas are underpaid and never know answers, Cohmac and Reath realize, they order two small hot matchas and tip 100%.

Orla: medium iced coffee with vanilla syrup, but she never has once paid for her drink because her vibes are so elite. The other regular customers lover her, the baristas love her, she's just a goddamn delight.

Sskeer: hot tea or iced tea, depends on the weather. honey with hot tea; simple syrup with iced tea, just enough to cut some of the herbal notes.

Keeve: double undercut icon Keeve Trennis is the token bisexual iced oat milk latte with lavender, argue with the wall.

Jora: classic hot mom drink, hot coffee with 2 cream and 2 sugars.

Affie: all of the Vessel crew is so used to, like, Star Wars-Folgers-Instant Coffee, so when they get to go to a coffee shop, they Splurge for their Little Treats. Affie loves a caramel frozen coffee with extra whipped cream and drizzle.

Leox: blended matcha ! Like Orla, he's never once paid for a drink. Vibes are too good. He thinks he's paid, but Geode pockets the cash.

Geode: gets the most obscene drink imaginable that the baristas detest making but is such a lovely customer that the staff can't hold it against him.

Maru: if he stoops so low as to buy a tea and not make it himself, he gets a large hot black tea, double bagged. steeps it obscenely long so it's basically a concentrate, everyone is mystified.

Lina Soh: hasn't made her own coffee in years, but her staff orders her almond milk cafe au laits with honey.

Sylvestri: iced caramel macchiato and she likes it layered, okay !!!

Jordanna: iced white mocha. ssssh. she's kinda guilty about it but isn't really sure why.

Buckets: hot chai latte with oat milk and pistachio syrup. (legit try it sometime, if your shop has this, it's so fucking good.)

Lula: iced coffee with oatmilk and she changes the flavor based on the season/mood she's in. this is absolutely an order she's copied from kantam.

Kantam: see above.

Zeen: hot vanilla latte with oatmilk, asks for it extra frothy.

Ram: mocha blended coffee with extra caramel and chocolate drizzle. literally of course.

Farzala: has never once ordered the same thing twice. who knows.

Qort: Just goes "whatever you want!" every time. His actual favorite is a hot chocolate but wants to be easy and simple!

Samira: The classic hot bitch drink: hot latte with skim milk and a raw sugar. Typically people who order this drink are awful, but she used to work in food service before coming up in the political staff scene, so she's perfectly polite and cheerful.

Avon: tries to impress upon people that she's an adult and important and gets a coffee with milk. Secretly hates it. Vern typically gets her an iced black tea with lemon and simple syrup like "oh they gave it to me!" Avon lets it slide because it's Vern.

Vern: her coffee shop habits were impressed upon her by Stellan and doesn't drink any coffee, mostly tea. Her favorite is Lady Grey, and if it's a time to indulge, adds cream and lavender syrup.

Imri: that's a hot choccy boy.

Crash: has never once ordered in a coffee shop. That's a Red Bull girlie.

Xylan: has a bullshit order. large iced coffee, fill the cup with ice fully, 2/3 full of coffee, add exactly 3.5 pumps of simple syrup, then equal splashes of oat milk and almond milk. Stir 7 times clockwise, then four times counter clockwise. somehow the staff don't revolt because he's a guilty pleasure fav customer and not a single barista can describe why they like him. one barista is convinced that xylan doesn't have a single fucking clue what he's talking about and just makes it standard. xylan can tell the difference but he can't point to where so he swallows it because he admires the bravery of the barista to flummox him.

[rune-writes]

A Healer's Duty

Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI

Word Count: 4023

Rating: T

Characters/Pairing: Tarja-centric, Clive Rosfield/Jill Warrick; Joshua Rosfield/Jote

Summary: As a physicker, Tarja thought her job was to heal, but when faced with the deadly affliction called Lithification—a fatal bodily petrification that will claim a Bearer's life—Tarja learns that to be a healer does not equal to saving everyone. There is a limit to what she can do, and sometimes, just alleviating someone's pain may be the greatest kindness she can offer.

Notes: written for Fulminate: A FFXVI Fanzine. Leftovers are open til Feb 28th! Check out the store HERE.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

i.

“Do you know what makes a good physicker, Tarja?” her mentor asked. 

He sat on a stool next to his desk, bent over a mortar and vials as he ground herbs and flowers into powders. Tarja looked up from changing the bandage of a wounded soldier’s arm just as her mentor poured the powder he was working on into a beaker. 

Outside, the dins of war had subsided into barely a murmur. A respite or some such, which meant the infirmary was flooded with patients. Where the anguish and agony had rendered her frozen in place before, now her body moved in the automatic way of a seasoned physicker who’d dealt with broken bones and stabbed wounds by the day. Tarja had had her hands full administering whatever potions she could give, bandages she could fix, cuts she could stitch. 

Still, they were not enough. Tormented cries pierced the tent’s walls from every side as soldiers fought against the pain of their advancing curse. And those she could not save lay on a heap outside, waiting for the carrion birds to arrive, because none of the soldiers could be bothered enough to give any of them a proper burial. Who were they but Bearer soldiers, meant to be used until the last drop of their lives and then discarded at the first sign of impairment? Her instructions were clear: to heal just enough for them to function. Not a day went by where it didn’t grate on her conscience. 

Her mentor waved her over as he placed the beaker over a small fire and began stirring the contents with a long, thin spoon. Tarja finished her task then patted the moaning soldier’s shoulder, promising him she’d bring a pain reliever before rising to her feet and coming to her mentor’s side. 

“This is Elysia. Or Tears of Mercy as I like to call it,” he said, grabbing a jar from his makeshift cabinet. Tarja viscerally cringed at the large eyeball staring at her. Her mentor chuckled. “Weeping widows. I had one of the men catch one for me. One drop of the tear can easily paralyze your entire nervous system.” 

Tarja watched him pick the eye with a pair of tongs. He brought it to the beaker, then carefully let one… two… three tears drop before placing it back inside the jar. He stirred the beaker’s content again. 

“I saw how you look today.” A pause. Tarja clenched her fists; she knew where this was going. “You can’t save everyone, Tarja.” 

“I know that.” Tarja grounded her teeth. 

“No, you don’t,” he said. “A healer’s job is to heal, yes, but we are no gods. We have our own limits. Sometimes, the only thing we can do is alleviate someone’s pain, and that’s alright.” 

He finished stirring, then took out the spoon. He lifted his beaker to the meager light above his desk which swayed ever so slightly in a non-existent wind. Under the light, the potion shone silver like sparkling diamonds. 

“We do not save people, Tarja. We can close their wounds, mend their broken bones, help their bodies recover with proper food, drugs, and rest. But what if they have reached their limit? What if their bodies scream enough?” 

A particularly agonizing wail pierced the tent then. Tarja looked over her shoulder to see her fellow physickers restraining a soldier to his bed as the petrification creeped toward his heart. Her mentor poured Elysia into an empty vial then stood from his chair. 

“Remember, Tarja: do not let them suffer anymore than they already have. Sometimes, that is the greatest kindness we can offer.”  

***

ii.

Tarja rapped on the door thrice before the response to “come in” came from inside. Cid was leaning against his desk as usual, nursing his left arm in a way that informed Tarja he might have overdone himself. Again. As she entered, Cid made a feeble attempt to hide it, though the stiffness of his movement and subtle flinch of his eye were enough to give it away. 

“Let me see your arm,” she said as a way of greeting. 

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, straightening his arm only to wince at the pain.   

Tarja set her herbal tea down on the low-lying table. She whirled on him with hands on her hip. “I’m your resident physicker, Cid. It is my job to see you in top shape.” 

“It is your job to make sure the hideaway is taken care of.” He deflected with a wry grin, fishing one-handedly for a cigarette in his pocket then the match on his desk. He puffed out a smoke, then sighed. When he noticed Tarja’s glare, he barked a laugh. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know as well as I do there’s no going around the curse.” 

She knew, but she would not break her stare. “The least you could do is sparingly use your powers.” 

“I have done that. How did you think I managed to live this long?” 

Another insufferable wry grin. Tarja had to swallow a sigh before crossing her arms. “So? Why did you call for me if not to heal your wounds?” 

“The tea, for one,” he said with a grateful dip of his head. He pushed himself off the desk then stumbled to the worn couch across the room. He reached for the cup, breathed in the warm turmeric scent, then took a sip. “Thank you. It dulls the pain somewhat.” 

Tarja ignored the pang in her chest. “One of my teacher’s recipes.” 

“That explains it then.” 

Willow bark and turmeric, with a dash of lavender. A tea recipe her mentor had created for the sole purpose of relieving pain from the crystal’s curse. Just as there was no going around it — the pain ever present and even more so after successive use of magick — her mentor had sought ways to ease a Bearer’s burden, even if he couldn’t completely erase it.  

Tarja watched Cid take another sip of his tea. It wasn’t so potent, but she could see the tension slowly leave his face.

“You know I’m here to help, right, Cid?” she said. 

Cid exhaled another sigh then finally leaned back on his seat. His left arm lay unmoving on his lap. 

“You’re already plenty of help, Tarja, with the Bearers and everyone else.” 

“Not to you.” 

He lifted his tea as if for emphasis. “The tea helps, and whatever medicine you like to slip in my pocket.” Despite her aggravation at his nonchalance, that drew a quick, tiny smile from her lips. Cid set his cup down. “I am keenly aware of my own mortality. One of these days, the curse will catch up and naught will remain of me but dust. But I’ll not let that happen ‘til my dream is fulfilled and every Bearer can die a man.” 

As painful as it looked, Cid attempted to raise his petrified arm, and like a defiance to fate and propelled by sheer determination, it lifted. 

***

vi.

Lithification, or commonly known as the crystals’ curse, was the nightmare of every Bearer. Her own nightmare once — still was — but Tarja had learned how not to rely on magick, and it’d helped her wonders. She couldn’t say the same for the slaves or soldiers, who were under the beck and call of their masters. 

Tarja saw how far the curse had progressed the moment she examined the new girl. Shiva, she heard Cid say. Poor girl. The imperial soldier pacing outside her infirmary had begun to grate on her nerves, but thankfully, he was gone now, away with Cid on one of his many missions. And he’d only just returned. From the way Cid was hiding his arm from her, she knew his curse had to have spread again. After she’d told him to be more careful, too. 

That evening, as Tarja was returning from Harpocrates with an old medical journal she hoped would contain information about the curse, Otto spotted her about to ascend to her infirmary and called her over to Charon’s stall. 

“How are they?” he asked. 

“They’ve only arrived this morning, Otto. There’s nothing much to report except that they’re sound asleep.” 

“That they could sleep is enough cause for joy, I’d say,” Charon said with a huff. 

True, Tarja had to concede, even if that sleep was induced by the sedative drug she had administered. The girl Otto had brought wouldn’t stop squirming while Shiva — Jill — had looked like she was at death’s door. It was all Tarja could do to steady her pulse and breathing. And once her condition had stabilized enough, she’d begun to mutter, tossing and turning and reopening the wounds Tarja had only finished stitching. At least now they could sleep peacefully to let their bodies heal.  

“Your girl is coming along well,” Tarja decided to say. “Her wounds aren’t too deep. A few days’ rest, and she’ll be as chipper as a morning bird, though her limp may remain. Jill, however…” 

“Are her wounds grave?” Charon asked. 

“I don’t know what those Ironbloods subjected her to, but judging from how far her curse had progressed, I can imagine how many times she had to prime. Possibly under duress too. Not to mention the wounds she retained from her fight with Titan.” 

She’d need time to properly heal. They had brought her in, covered in blood and grime. After Tarja had finished washing her face, it had surprised her how young Jill had looked. She could be younger than her. 

“Cid tells me Clive — the new guy — seems promising.” Otto huffed a long, suffering breath. “I hope he’s right. I’m all for his creed, but this crusade comes with a high price, and I’d rather see it done before any of them crumbles to dust.” 

Tarja said nothing to that. She’d done her fair share of scolding. It seemed Otto and Charon had done the same. 

She bid them farewell then went up to her infirmary just in time to see Jill break into sweats. She squirmed in her sleep. Tarja quickly administered another dose of calming medicine before dabbing a wet cloth across Jill’s face. She waited until the girl’s breathing evened out and the crease between her brows disappeared. 

***

iv.

“For gods’ sake, Gav, if you force your way out of this cave in your bloodied state, I swear to Greagor I will strap you to a bed and you’ll not leave until I say otherwise!” 

Her voice rose above the cacophony. Kupka had raided the hideaway not half a bell ago and now they were displaced at a cave system Cid had designated as their meeting point should things go awry. It was hidden enough, the entrance shrouded in shadows even in daylight. But if the cover of darkness didn’t hide them, she hoped the storm would, which, now that she thought about it, only intensified the chaos raging inside. Anguished cries and moans all around. It reminded her of the southern isles, being in her tent with her mentor. But her mentor wasn’t here; the entire hideaway only had her and Rodrigue to depend on. 

Gav blinked his good eye at her. Good; she’d have preferred fear, but surprise was a fair alternative. She pushed him down to the makeshift bed and told him to lay down his head. How he wasn’t wailing in agony was beyond her. The blade had cut right through his eye. 

“I need to stop the bleeding so you won’t bleed to death,” she said as she sat on the ground and dabbed his left eye with a gauze. 

“An eye wound won’t kill me,” he countered with a laugh. Tarja pressed the gauze harder and made him yelp. 

All at once, the din hushed into background noise. Quietly, she cleaned Gav’s wound and inspected the deep cut within. She stifled a sigh. 

“You think Cid is alright?” Gav asked then. 

“He has Clive and Jill with him. I’m sure he’s fine.” 

“Yeah, but what if…” 

Tarja pressed the gauze harder again, cutting his doubt short. She knew his concerns well — she’d lived with it all her life. Her role was to heal — to see the people who came to her infirmary leave in a better, healthier state. But what if that meant those same people would go running back to battle with swords and magick in hand? Living most of her life among soldiers and fighters, she’d grown to accept that the best thing she could hope for was that they would return with more wounds for her stitch. 

“I can’t salvage your eye, Gav,” she said quietly. 

She noted his stillness, his clenched jaws. His good eye stared straight ahead at the stone ceiling lit by dim torches. “Close it then.” He sounded unusually even, but his voice trembled right at the tail end. He cleared his throat. “Even without an eye, I’m still Cid’s best scout. Just you wait, once I’m out of bed, I’ll find the three of them and drag them back here.”

Tarja chuckled at that. She set the gauze down then picked up her surgery kit. “This’ll sting.”

“As if it could hurt more than it already does.”

Gav cracking jokes meant he still had vigor left in him. If only she could have his kind of positivity. 

With a silent prayer to Great Greagor, Tarja applied anesthetics to him, then pushed her needle into his eye after the drugs kicked in. 

***

v.

The young lord of Rosaria lay prone on his bed, as well as the imperial prince if one could believe it. Tarja certainly hadn’t, but the moment Clive landed on the hideaway with two heavily wounded, barely conscious men, logic had gone out the window and she’d instructed every available man to help carry them to her chambers. The only reason she’d known it was the long-lost lord at all was because she’d spotted Phoenix in the distance carrying two distinct people on its claws. Now both of them lay still, quiet, the only signs of life being the steady rise and fall of their chests. “Bad state” was oversimplifying it, as she’d pointed to Clive the last time he came for a visit. His Imperial Highness was on the brink of losing his life; it’d be a miracle if he woke up at all. Joshua, however… 

A pulsing purplish wound lay within a deep gash on his chest. Jote hadn’t been forthcoming when Tarja asked. Now the girl tended to her lord with as much dedication as was expected of an aide, but the tenderness with which she dabbed his face and cleaned his wounds seemed to speak of a hidden sentiment. 

“How long have you been with his lordship?” she asked the girl. 

Jote looked up, then stood from the bed. “Eighteen years, milady.” 

“Since Phoenix Gate then?” 

Jote nodded. The girl was not much of a talker ever since she arrived a few days ago. Tarja never pressed her, thought she’d return to her duty when neither of them said anything, but the flickering light from Joshua’s bedside table illuminated her contorted expression: a pursed lip and clenched jaw, her hands fisting on her robe. 

“If I may, Lady Tarja,” she spoke, hesitant. “I have been by his lordship’s side for all my life, helped him achieve what others deemed impossible. I know what his lordship wants, what he dreams of. And yet this road he treads… its destination…” 

Her voice drifted into silence. She cast her gaze to Joshua, and for the briefest of moments, Tarja caught a flicker of emotion crossed her features. It disappeared before she could fully grasp it but Tarja knew what she had seen: compassion. 

She rose from her chair and strode to the bed. Joshua was sound asleep.

“He is always in pain,” Jote went on. “Wouldn’t take his medicine even under threat of his life.” Her voice was soft, strained. “Is it wrong of me to wish he would live?”

Tarja touched her shoulder gently. “Get some rest, Jote. I’ll watch them.” 

“No, I—”

Tarja fixed her a stare; Jote couldn’t do anything but relent. After she left, Tarja moved her attention back to the young lord and drawled out a sigh. “You’re just as stubborn as your brother, you know that?”

Of course he knew; and of course Clive knew. If only they would listen to their physickers, take their medicines, and get the rest they needed. Her fingers twitched at the familiar words. Oh, how many times had they crossed her lips only to fall on deaf ears? Cid was one; and now Clive. 

Could she save them from dying this time? 

From the shadows of memory, her mentor’s words jabbed her mind like thorns: you can’t save everyone, Tarja. 

She knew that, but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

***

vi.

A knock rapped on her door and Jill entered her premises. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Tarja said with a smile, warm, as warm as the pale sun outside she hoped, because that’s what Jill needed these days. Clive and the others had just departed. If there was anything more broken than the look she had the moment they turned their backs… Tarja couldn’t think what it was.

Now, at the very least, Jill looked chipper enough to offer a joke. “Can I not visit you without a cause?”

“The only time anyone visits the infirmary is when they have a stomach ache or a broken bone. Or when they need someone to give Torgal a bath.” That prompted a quick chuckle from her. Good, Tarja thought, but still it didn’t shake the shadow lingering within Jill’s eyes. 

She closed her book and waved Jill over. Jill did so, shutting the door and moving to the cabinet beside Tarja’s desk. She looked at each and every jar, from herbs to flowers to scorpion stings and miteling eyes. She examined them, fiddled with them. Then she moved to the vials containing Tarja’s potions: cures for fever, allergies, stomach cramps, headaches. She found the tears of mercy Rodrigue had concocted a while ago and the vial Tarja had helped Jote make for Joshua’s escalating pain. When Tarja told her about it, Jill’s lips pulled taut. 

“Have you ever thought about it, Tarja—” she began, “—whether there was anything more you could’ve done?” 

Tarja stared at her. If there was one thing she’d learned in the past five years, it was noticing when Jill’s graceful, steadfast mask was one step away from shattering. She set her book down, fingers lingering on the fraying rim. 

“I think about it a lot — about what I can do, how I can help. What with you lot going out and getting hurt every damn time.” She glanced at Jill; the girl was smiling. “But the thing about my occupation, Jill, is that there is nothing I can do if my patient decides they want to run off and save the world. So I do what I can, hoping it is enough for them to return to me so I can patch them up again.” 

Jill was quiet for a moment. She placed the jar she’d been holding back on the cabinet. She hovered, then stepped back. “I—” 

That was when Tarja noticed the tremble, first in her voice then in her hands. Jill’s breath shuddered and her knees gave out. She stumbled onto the bed. Tarja caught her the moment she hit the mattress.

“Tell me what to do, Tarja.” Her harsh whisper seared Tarja’s ear. She clung to her, shoulders quaking, fingers digging deep and refusing to let go. “I wish I’d gone with him. I wanted to go with him. But—” 

Her hand reflexively covered her belly. Tarja hadn’t quite noticed it until then, but Jill’s stomach had subtly grown. She whipped her head up, seeking Jill’s eyes; but Jill was too far gone. Tears streamed her face. Her features twisted in anguish. 

“I told myself everything would be fine as long as I had him. But now he’s gone, and I don’t know what to do.” 

***

vii.

Jill was with child. She made Tarja promise not to tell anyone. And Tarja didn’t. Not even when a commotion broke outside. Or when Gav barged into her infirmary, hauling a body between two men, badly beaten and cut with the entire left arm almost completely lithified and crumbling. 

They’d found Clive somewhere on the shores of Ash. Everyone had thought him dead, but a moon of tireless search finally bore them fruit, even if it wasn’t what they had hoped for. 

“He’s still alive! He’s breathing,” Gav said. 

Indeed, but his skin was too cold, too pale, his pulse too shallow. Had it been any other time, Tarja would have pronounced him lost. There was nothing she could do. Clive was already at death’s door. 

“Can you save him?” Mid asked. 

She was no god. She had limits to her abilities. 

But it didn’t stop her from ordering everyone to clear the room, make a fire, and bring all the blankets and water they could spare. 

Another moon of dogged perseverance — that’s what it boiled down to: stubborn tenacity. Tarja spent a lot of her time with Harpocrates, scouring tomes and medical journals for anything that could hint on what ailed Clive and how to heal him. She spent her time in the backyard where Nigel grew more and more medicinal herbs. With the mothercrystals gone and aetherfloods receding, new life had begun to crop up in places where the Blight had taken over the land.  

And yet, even through all that, Tarja couldn’t shake the words her mentor once uttered to her: We are no gods, Tarja. We do not save people. 

Tarja stood in her infirmary alone. She had just managed to pry Jill away from Clive’s bed, telling her to rest. It wouldn’t do well for the baby if the mother was worn out. Her belly had begun to show. Soon, everyone would know. 

The sun was setting, casting a strange orange glow on her chambers. Before Clive left for Origin, he had come to her and promised her that it would be the last time he’d leave on an impossible mission. She knew he had pretty much meant it; except, she and everyone else had also known that he might not come back at all, the buffoon. 

Tomes lay scattered over her desk along with mortars and vials and grounded herbs. The medicines she’d administered had managed to stabilize him, which, in another case, would’ve been enough to ease her mind. But in the days that followed where she would only need to wait for the patient to regain consciousness, Clive remained asleep.

“Have you had enough, Clive? Is that it?” she quietly asked. Jill had said that she was ready — that if there was nothing more that Tarja could do, perhaps it was time to call it enough.  

Tarja returned to her workstation to gather his afternoon medicines. Sitting beside his bed, she touched his wrist. Warm. His pulse drummed — shallow but steady. Countless times had her eyes wandered to the glimmering substance of Elysia sitting on the shelf above her desk. While she had the authority to announce when a case was lost, how could she do it when the man was still breathing, his body receptive to food and drugs? Was that not sign enough that Clive was still holding on?

Setting the vials, spoons, and bowls on the bedside table, Tarja slowly trickled a dose of each medicine down his mouth then washed them away with spoonfuls of water. Sometimes, the only thing she could do was alleviate someone’s pain, and perhaps that was all she was doing now. But if there were still gods who could answer her prayers, she would wish that they’d be merciful. That they’d let this man — this poor man who’d done so much, who’d lost and regained and sacrificed everything in order for them to live — live, and, perhaps, see the birth of his own child. 

That, she prayed with her heart. 

~ END ~

[snowflaketale12]

Happy Siblings Day to everyone... 💕

I'd also like to take this opportunity to introduce an amazing Frozen fanzine project called 'Water Has Memory: A Frozen Decade.' You can participate in the project by submitting your creativity, including art, photography, short fiction, non-fiction, and poetry for a specific year.

If you're interested, you can find more details on their Tumblr @frozen10fanzine . Be sure to act fast, as the deadline is approaching soon!

[atths--twice]

The Journey Home

After the fear surrounding their failed reunion, Scully realizes that the only place she and William need to be is with Mulder- wherever that may lead.

I wrote this story last year for the MSR Fanzine and today I am able to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it.

Late January, 2002

9:58 p.m. 

The apartment was lit by only a couple of lights as Scully placed clothes into the large, black duffel bag that sat on her bed. She was precise with her choices; only packing what she needed now and not further into the future. 

Taking her dark blue toiletry bag into the bathroom, she added only the bare minimum of items. Soaps, shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste, tampons, and her makeup bag. Zipping the golden zipper, she switched off the light and left the room. 

Packing it beside her sweaters, she picked out three pairs of shoes. Boots and a pair of sneakers were added to the duffel, the other pair left out to be worn. She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. 

“Nearly done. Come on,” she whispered and then opened her eyes. 

Adding a blanket to the duffel, she looked around the room before nodding as she zipped and secured the bag. Carrying it silently out of her room, she set it beside William’s matching bag she had packed earlier that day. 

Every article of his clothing, extra diapers and wipes, blankets, some toys, extra bottles, her breast pump, and his own toiletry bag were packed, ready for their rapidly approaching departure. 

From the kitchen chair, she picked up the backpack she would now be using as William’s diaper bag. 

Running her hand along the back side of it, she drew in a breath, tears stinging her eyes as she thought of the other contents it held. 

Three days ago, she had come to the Gunmen’s at their request, where they presented her with items Mulder had asked them to procure before he’d had to leave.  

Doctored passports, driver’s licenses, social security cards, and birth certificates. A handful of credit cards bearing fake names that had been chosen. A substantial amount of cash, along with information to account numbers for three bank accounts, all of them in different names that matched the drivers licenses. 

“He didn’t tell me,” she had whispered, looking at the picture of herself on a license which bore the name Sally Stenson. 

“He wanted to be sure things were ready, just in case they would be needed,” Byers had said and she laughed out a small sob. 

“Well, they definitely are,” she had said, remembering how she felt just a couple of days ago as she stood on the train platform, watching the train passing her by, knowing Mulder had been on it and she had been unable to reach him. Sighing, she set the license down. 

“Alright,” Frohike had said suddenly and rather gruffly, picking everything up. “I got this.” He had left the room without looking back and she stared after him in confusion. 

Byers had sighed and when she looked at him, she saw sadness in his and Langly’s eyes. 

“It’s not how I want this to be,” she had said and Byers shook his head as he touched her arm and attempted a smile. 

“No. It’s how it needs to be.” 

Late last night, a soft knock sounded at her apartment door and for a second she had stood frozen. She had reached for her gun and walked quietly to check who it was and had seen Frohike standing on the other side, holding a beat up leather backpack in his hands. 

“It’s all in here,” he had said, stepping across the threshold as she closed the door and set the gun down on the table. “This is an old backpack of mine that I used a long time ago. There’s space that I created between the lining where I would put stuff I didn’t want seen by the fuzz. I’ve put everything of yours in there and sewn it up, to keep it hidden. When you get where you’re going… you take it out and keep it somewhere safe.” 

“Frohike,” she had breathed, taking the backpack from him. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking down at the ground and then back up at her. “Be careful. Take care of each other.” 

“We will. Thank you.” 

She hugged him, thanking him again, and he left immediately after the embrace had ended. 

He had done the job perfectly. No one would ever suspect what was hidden within the backpack unless they literally tore it apart. 

Placing it beside the duffel bags, she clasped her hands together and looked around the apartment that she had lived in for so long. 

Anything that held sentimental value had been taken to her mother’s house two days ago for safekeeping, including the fish tank and all the fish. Everything else would be taken care of once she and William were gone, Byers had assured her, though she found she was not really worried about it. 

Leaving behind the physical was surprisingly easy, with the exception of her mother. 

Her mother understood why they had to leave, but that did not mean she wanted it to happen. It had been a very tearful goodbye and watching her holding William until the last possible second, had almost caused Scully to change her mind. 

Almost. 

But she had to go. And they both knew it. 

There were too many worries and questions that weighed on her and she needed to be with Mulder to figure them out.  

Glancing at the clock with a sigh, she hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower, change her clothes, and put on her sneakers. 

Hurrying through her last few tasks, a light knock sounded at the door and she jumped. Another two knocks and she knew it was Langly. 

He walked in silently, picked up the bags, and carried them down to the waiting van as she put on the backpack and then placed a sleeping William into the carrier sling, shushing him softly when he began to fuss. 

Nodding resolutely as she gently patted William’s back, she walked out the door, locking it behind her. 

Frohike took the backpack from her as he helped her inside, sitting down on the floorboard and leaning against the side of the van. It was unsafe and illegal, but she did not care so long as she would not be seen as they drove. 

“We'll take the back streets, stay off the highway,” Byers said from the driver's seat. “Should be there in about twenty minutes.” 

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes as she held William close when he whimpered in his sleep. 

Twenty minutes felt both like forever and no time at all when they reached the station and Byers parked the van. Langly got out, grabbing the bags, as Frohike stepped out with the backpack and reached a hand in to help Scully. 

He took a paper bag from the backseat and placed it into the backpack along with two bottles of water before he closed it up and helped her put it on. 

“I made you some breakfast burritos,” Frohike said, his voice gruff once again. “They should be good for the journey. Stay in your compartment. Don’t come out until you reach him.” 

“Right,” Scully said with a nod as she adjusted both the backpack and William’s carrier. 

She stared at all of them as Byers walked up to join them, the keys held nervously in his hands. 

“Thank you for everything,” she said softly, tears pricking at her eyes. “Thank you for… being there for both of us. All of us.” She rubbed William’s back and they nodded. “I…” 

“You need to get going, Agent Scully,” Byers said, taking her ticket from his inside jacket pocket and handing it to her. “Be careful.” 

“We will.” 

She grasped his hand and he nodded, smiling softly. Frohike sighed as she looked at him and stepped forward to embrace him. 

“Goodbye,” she whispered and he grunted, patting her back. 

Langly walked beside her to the train platform, carrying her bags. They waited silently until it arrived and he followed her to her compartment. Setting the bags down, he hugged her quickly, hurrying from the train as it began to leave the station. 

Standing by the window, she watched him run to join the others. They all held up a hand and she did the same, staying until she could no longer see them, and then stepping inside of her compartment and locking the door. 

Making up the small bed, she stacked the duffel bags in front of the door. Taking off her shoes, she laid down with William in her arms, exhaustion overtaking her as she fell asleep instantly, the train bouncing along as it carried them west. 

__________

Nearly a full day was spent in the compartment, opening the door only to hand her ticket to the ticket agent, her gun held out of his view, just in case. Thanks to the food and water Frohike had provided, and the bathroom in her small room, she did not have any need to leave. 

She created a safe space for both of them, William wide eyed as he looked out the windows and the world beyond them. 

When the next stop was announced, the town in which she and Mulder had previously arranged to meet, Scully felt her stomach drop. The bags were repacked, William once again in his carrier sling and her backpack on, when she opened the doors to leave. 

It was dark outside, the winter sun already down when she bumped down the hallway with her cumbersome bags. A kind older man offered to help her, but she graciously refused.  

The brakes squealed as the train began to slow and she stood waiting at the door, her bags in her hands and heart racing. William shifted and she looked down at him with a smile. He smiled back and she let out a deep breath when the train stopped completely. 

The doors opened and she swallowed hard as she made her way off the train. The ticket attendant appeared and helped her, placing her bags on the ground beside her with a smile. 

Scully picked up her bags and walked away from the people milling about the platform as quickly as she could, considering the awkward weight of the bags she carried. Her eyes were peeled for the enclosed bus stop, praying Mulder had done as he had planned and taken out the overhead light to keep them in darkness.  

Catching sight of the small building, her pace and heart rate quickened, looking over her shoulder and thankfully finding no one following her. 

As she approached, a figure stepped from the building, but remained standing in the darkened doorway. She paused before she recognized the person’s frame and she whimpered softly, moving faster. 

The bags were abandoned as she reached him, her arms outstretched as he stepped towards her. 

“Scully,” he breathed, pulling her into his arms, William protesting in loud surprise as he did. She laughed, tears in her eyes, as she hugged him back. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too. So much,” she said, over the sound of William’s cries. Mulder held her tighter, whispering her name into her hair. 

Pulling back, he held her face in his hands and kissed her softly three times. He shook his head, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks as he smiled. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she said, holding onto his wrists, her tears spilling over. 

“And you,” he said, letting go of her face and opening the sling carrier to look down at William. “How are you, my son? God, he’s gotten so big. Can… can I hold him?” 

“Of course you can.” 

He took him from the carrier and held him, smiling as he stopped crying and stared, looking from Mulder to Scully. He smiled, shoving a fist into his mouth and Mulder chuckled as he shook his head again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, kissing him and then her again. He bent to pick up one of the bags as Scully picked up the other one. He smiled at her and she smiled back as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, William blowing raspberries as they began to walk from the darkness to Mulder’s car. 

_____________

Two years later, in a small town in Tennessee, a taxi drove up a long dirt road, stopping in front of a farmhouse with a large wraparound porch. Rocking chairs, big and small, adorned it. Potted plants were set out by the pillars along the porch, many bright colored flowers sprouting from them. Two different sized swings were hanging at the end of the porch, the grass around the house green and luscious. 

The taxi driver stepped out to take the two large suitcases from the trunk as the screen door squeaked open and then slammed closed. Scully hurried across the porch to greet her mother who had just gotten out of the taxi and was looking at her with a teary smile.

“Mom,” Scully said, tears clogging her throat. 

“Oh, Dana,” Maggie said, holding her tightly, both of them crying happily as the screen door squeaked open again. 

“Mama?” William asked and Maggie laughed as she stepped back to see the little boy she had missed every day for the past two years. 

She walked up the steps to take him from Mulder, who handed him over with a smile, as he helped Scully with the suitcases, the taxi driving away. 

Hours later, the sun setting, Scully stood watching William and her mother sitting together on one of the swings, William pointing and jabbering away to her as the swing moved slowly and she laughed. 

“Hey,” Mulder said softly, his arm going around Scully’s shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing contentedly. “Are you happy?” 

“Yes. Very happy.” 

“Good.” 

“And you?” she asked, looking up at him. 

He looked down at her and smiled, letting that be his answer and she smiled back, her hold on him tightening as he put his other arm around her. 

“Good,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest as he hummed and kissed the top of her head. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

Somewhere nearby a dog barked, prompting William to repeat the sound, causing all of them to laugh. Maggie made the swing go a little higher as William barked again and she pulled him onto her lap. 

“Oh, William,” she said, kissing his head and sighing. “I’ve missed you and I love you so much.” 

“I’m beyond happy,” Scully whispered, her eyes closing as a warm breeze whistled through the grass and trees, Mulder humming again as his hand moved gently up and down her back. 

[popculturelib]

Fanzine Friday #10: Skills (2009) by Sabrina Simon

Skills is a DIY zine about common household tasks and fun projects. Following last week's canning theme, here is the section about food preservation, with an additional recipe for a baking soda volcano.

The Browne Popular Culture Library (BPCL), founded in 1969, is the most comprehensive archive of its kind in the United States.  Our focus and mission is to acquire and preserve research materials on American Popular Culture (post 1876) for curricular and research use. Visit our website at https://www.bgsu.edu/library/pcl.html.

Image transcripts below the cut:

Food Preservation

I've been interested in food preservation for a while now and have figured out a few different ways to save fresh produce for use at a later date.

Freezing

Many vegetables can be preserved simply by freezing. All you need is a plastic bag with no holes and a top that seals completely. Cook the vegetables (fully or partially), stick `em in a bag, stick the bag in the freezer, and there you go!

To prevent things from freezing in a clump, place them in a single layer on a baking sheet, place the sheet in the freezer, then transfer to storage bag when they are frozen through.

To freeze corn, cook it as you normally would, then cut the kernels off of the cob. Sometimes when cooked corn-on-the-cob sits around it gets pale and wrinkly, but after cutting it off the cob and freezing it, it will have a plump, yellow appearance. Nice.

Berries and grapes can be frozen raw.

Bananas can be placed in the freezer for later use. The skins turn brown but does not have an effect on flavor.

To freeze ranges and lemons: zest and juice the fruit then freeze the zest and the juice separately, in a plastic bag or ice cube tray; or just stick them in there whole; or cut into sections and store in bags.

Canning

Canning food may seem like an antiquated, labor-intensive idea, but it is actually simple once you know the process.

The Basic Boiling Water Canning Process

Obtain canning jars and lids— that is jars that have a flat lid and a bans band. You must use a new flat lid every time you can, but screw bands can be re-used. Wash the jars, bands, and lids in hot soapy water. Using a dishwasher is fine. Let dry thoroughly. Please follow a recipe for the food you want to can, because you need to make sure there is enough acid in the product so it won't spoil.

Prepare a canner. A canner is a large pot with a lid and a rack in the bottom. The rack is important because water must be able to circulate sides of the canning jar. Assemble your own canner by obtaining a pot deep enough to fit your jar and something that will keep the jars from touching the bottom and allow circulation. Try a toaster oven rack or a metal colander.

Fill the jars with the fruits or vegetables to be canned. It is important to leave "headspace" at the top of the can, as per recipe instructions. For boiling water canning, maker sure to leave 1/2 inch of space between the food and the top of the jar.

Use a clean, wet cloth to wipe around the jar tops. They should be totally clean.

Place a flat lid on the jar, and screw on the bands tightly.

Place the rack in the pot, fill pot halfway with water, place the cans in the pot, and top up with boiling water - enough so that cans are covered with one inch of water above them. Place lid on canner and start timing as per recipe instructions. If need be, top up the pot with more boiling water so that there is always one inch above the jars. Remember not to let jars touch the sides or bottom of the pan or each other. Also, always keep the lid on.

Remove jars from the canner and place on a rack to cool. When they are cool, check to make sure that all of the jars sealed. A sealed jar will have a dip in the lid that does not give. An unsealed jar will "pop" up and down if you press on the lid. If any jars are unsealed, you can try resealing them immediately (by the same process), or else just refrigerate and use within a few days.

Label jars with the date of canning. Store in a cool, dark, and dry place and use within one year. Now wasn't that fun?

Applesauce

I made and canned applesauce and you can to!

This recipe makes about six pints of applesauce. I live in a house with five other people so having a ton of applesauce is fine by us, but feel free to cut the recipe in half.

Start by peeling, coring, and cutting eight pounds of cooking apples.* I've got one of those hand-crank apple peelers which is perfect for this. Otherwise—recruit your friends to help you, because this is a LOT of apples!

*I suggest using a combo of Granny Smith & Golden Delicious apples.

Place apples, 2 cups of water, and a couple cinnamon sticks (if you want) in a huge pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until apples are very tender. Stir often. Depending on what type of apple you use and how small they are chopped, this could take anywhere from 15 to 40 minutes.

Remove cinnamon sticks. Mush apples to a consistency you like. I like a chunky kind of applesauce so I just smash it a bit with a potato masher.. If you want it smoother, run it through a food mill or ricer and put it back in the pot. If you want, add sugar to taste (brown sugar is nice) and more water, if it seems a little thick.

Bring sauce up to boiling. Pour the sauce into the clean jars— they should still be warm. Wipe the rims of the jars and apply lids and bands. Process for 15 minutes using instructions above.

***An obvious way to preserve fruit is by canning your own jam/jelly/preserves. I can't stomach that sort of thing, so I've never made it. If you have a jam-type recipe you're willing to share, please send it in! ***

Baking Soda & Vinegar

Another cheap + easy way to entertain the kids is to make a baking soda volcano! Simply put some baking soda in a glass, dribble in a bit of vinegar, and watch it foam & expand & hiss. It's pretty fun. Add some food dye for special effects. Bonus points if you do it in the sink: the foaming action can help unclog a drain, the soda is a good abrasive for cleaning, and it will also neutralize odors. Sweet! (Note: don't overdo it - a little bit of each product goes a very long way!)

[frozen10fanzine]

Frozen meme-ories

Anyone remember when Elsa took the world by storm? 🌀

[paulgadzikowski]

A friend of mine, Rob Morris, who I liked to say during the Usenet era was writing the M*A*S*H/Star Trek crossovers I'd've been writing in the 1970s if there's been the internet then, wrote me about MUSH, a 1970s Saturday morning cartoon segment by Filmation, the same animation house that did the Star Trek animated series.

You may know this, but: Filmation, noted for being super-cheap even among limited animation studios, apparently talked to Gelbart and company about doing a Saturday Morning adaptation of MASH. With MASH's subject matter and the vibe that the studio just didn't get that the material could never travel, they basically laughed them out of the room. Bitter, they did a parody as part of this meta-parody of local kids cartoon shows with live action hosts called Uncle Croc's Block. Charles Nelson Reilly was the stuck-up host and Jonathan Harris was his beleaguered show-runner - one can only imagine the ham that was dished and the scenery that was chewed with these two. Anyway, the three segments were the nearly-Lovecraftian (I'm exaggerating, but only a bit) Fraidy Cat, a Gleason-as-Caveman bit called Wacky and Packy, and the aforementioned MUSH - Mangy Unwanted Shaggy Heroes - set in the Frozen North at a fort, with such inspired characters as Bullseye, Trooper, Sonar, Colonel Flake, Sideburns and Cool Lips - yeaaaaah. Anyway, these cartoons were cheap even by Filmation's standards, and the whole thing tanked in both ratings and critics so hard, ABC TV President Fred Silverman vowed to never do business with Filmation ever again. They had Animated Trek, and later He-Man, She-Ra and the underrated Bravestarr, but their characters had like five or six facial and body models.

I remember seeing ads for MUSH at the time and being curious, but that will have been when I was getting just old enough to appreciate sleeping in on Saturdays instead of getting up to watch cartoons, and I never saw it. I didn't know the backstory and I didn't know it was Filmation, but I knew Filmation is the studio where they did Star Trek.

I remember reading a comment in a fanzine from a Star Trek showrunner in an interview or at a con in response to comments on the limited action of the animation, that the reason for that was that the Filmation computers could only handle seven actions per scene. To this day I remember the shot in Beyond The Farthest Star when Kirk slapped the lifesupport belt onto the helm-navigation console and got shot by the alien-possessed bridge defense system as the most action-packed shot in the series, and that was the first episode.*

On the one hand this means, for all its faults, Filmation's work must have been one of the first to make use of computers in animation and I think we can cut them some slack for failing to get it perfect right out of the box. On the other hand, as someone with some experience in creating animation on limited comuter processing (and I don't even mean the gifs at Three Faces and at AKOTAS; in the 90s I had an Amiga 500 and a program called FantaVision (which is where triangle characters first came from)), I wonder what was to stop them from creating two scenes in a row, where the last shot of the first one was identical to the first shot of the second one, and going from there? And I think I wondered this even in the 70s when I first read about this - which does present the question, if twelve-year-olds were thinking of it why weren't the animators?

* Histories tend to list Yesteryear as the first episode of TAS because it aired before Beyond The Farthest Star in the L.A. area because George Takei was running for office and because equal time laws, but everywhere else BFS was what aired that morning. BFS was the true premier episode. I will catch cold on this hill.

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Self rec fic

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Thanks @reconciledviolence729 for tagging me!

Love can see the good (on AO3) This was my very first fanfic I dared to write. Post Frozen 2 canon divergent. Very fluffy... (rated T) Anna joins Kristoff to spend the night beneath the sky. Little does she know that Kristoff's mind is wandering off to Arendelle, concerned about what awaits them, while she worries that he might not be comfortable at her side… ____

Restless Heart (on AO3) This frozen modern au fic is very dear to me since it holds some personal experience... f.e. here, Olaf is a horse based on treasured memory of my own late horse. (rated T) He had been on the road too long. And it had suited him well, until lately, when the dread of constant change of scenery slowly but surely pulling at him more and more, though he didn´t like to admit it… ____

Instincts - or the Beast inside (on AO3) My first batb1991 post canon divergent fic (rated E) that happened after I read @firawren´s "A scent there that wasn´t there before" (linked in AO3 post) Belle was not sure what to expect… The time with the Beast was still all too fresh on her mind and her body still responded with delightful shudders when she thought of the secluded intimacy they had shared. ____

The beach case (on AO3) In collaboration with my dear friend @hiptoff - that was such fun to write as we never knew what the other would come up with in the next chapter (rated T) In view of an important business meeting, Anna was in need of a relaxing walk on the beach. But this time, the stroll might bring her something that is not precisely the calm she expected. ____

Cruising beyond sunrise (on AO3) One of my very early Frozen modern AU´s, and my contribution to the Frozen Fanzine Volume 5: "summer lovin" (rated T) Anna and Kristoff set out for their individual summer jobs on a cruising ship along Norway´s coastline. Meeting "accidently" on the way to Hamburg´s harbour, the journey spins off "kristanna" slow burn style.. ____

tagging with no obligation! @firawren @thefamilybruno @hiptoff @luthien-under-bough @justfrozenthings @thecassadilla @annas-hair-donut @true--north @rahchan-writes-again @sidepartskinnyjeans

[nihilistic-holocaust]

A new tape, two fanzines and some free stickers were added to the webshop! Check it and support the old underground! NECROSCOPE Zine (Pol) Issue 38: Invultation, Incantation, The chasm, Shambles, Kingdom, Exanimatvm, Perverse rites, Wolflust, Sphinx, Concilivm, Fleshtorture, Savage necromancy, Bestial profanation, Vestal cuntvomit... Plus many reviews. 138 pages. A5. In english. 2023 CRYPT OF DR GORE zine (Fra) Issue 12: Fall of seraphs, Kronos, Cabale prod, Rotten brain, Anksunamon, Tsubo, Asile obscene, Old black, Tragos, Fardeaux, Excrementis, Winterburial, Frakasm, Hooker spit, Quesstuvacrisserla... + Chroniques. 60 pages. A5. In french. 2023 DEAD SOUL ALLIANCE (Can) Spiralling to lunacy Tape. Old school death with early 90's influences like Grave, Dismember, early Unleashed... Tape + sticker https://nihilistic-webzine-distro.fr/Webshop/fr/24-news Stickers: -ASSUR - sticker -ILSA - sticker -TASER - sticker -DRUDGE - sticker -FROZEN SCREAMS IMPRINT - sticker -BARRICADE - sticker -DROWNED ORANGE - Goat sticker -RATLORD Recs - sticker -RUDE AWAKENING Recs - sticker -OVERACTIVE - sticker https://nihilistic-webzine-distro.fr/Webshop/fr/87-merch

[secretsofthestorymakers]

Ahhh thanks for tagging me @koretoqueen!

I also don’t have a folder (or any organization here at all) but I’ll list what I’ve got!

* The Legends of Wisteria: an original story I’ve been developing for… almost 4 years now? I hope it will be finished some day, but I’ve still got A LOT to go!

* Frozen10 Fanzine Water has Memory submission @frozen10fanzine

* A whole bunch of short fics that I’ll probably never post even if I do finish, cause I’m not really involved in the fandom they’re about (some titles include Back to the Start, Five Times There was Only One Bed and the One Time There Was Two, and the very creatively named, Idk what to call it 😂)

* Several Frozen Analyses (that I may finish/post when I have the time and energy lol)

* A original story I’m writing with my sister titled The Terror of the Forest

@gayusernamegoeshere @bigfrozenfan @agduna-central @hafanforever @snowflaketale12

WIP Game

RULES: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks to @annaofthenorthernlights for tagging me!

Note: I'm going to list my 10 most recent files that are actual WIPs (as opposed to drabbles I've already posted)... some of these belong to the same WIP...

week 4

Mad Men Dartmouth Idea

ptr ch. 18 (1865)

1875 Inga 1870 Frederick

later chapter scene

ptr ch19 (1865)

Rapunzel and Eugene 1875 timeline

chapter 25?

scenes for chapter 19

week 3

0 pressure tags: @loonysama @bethanydelleman @basingstokemercury @paigebstorey @snowfall-in-summer @the-red-butterfly @drsteggy @pterawaters

[frozines]

Hello! Do you have any plans for putting together another Frozine? If so, I'd love to contribute a story. And I don't mind helping with administrative stuff if you need it.

Hi,

It wasn't anything that I have been actively planning. Between the children's summer reading program at my work and my brother's wedding coming up I'm a bit swamped until October.

I'll think about setting up another one sometime soon if there's enough interest, but unfortunately even with help it's a lot of time and energy on my part so no promises that it's something that can be done before Fall!

- Mod Em (@punkpoemprose )