#I feel like my progress is relatively slow because I'm doing everything as I come across them but

[redmoonwanderer]

"After all the dreary, world-ending, grim, dark adventures, there's nothing quite like stopping to enjoy the flowers and the colours as the sun sets."

DT spoilers below (if you've cleared Kozama'uka's upper half you're good to go)

"Wuk Lamat? Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine," he says, having stopped to touch grass though everyone is ready to head out to rescue the Third Promise.

+ bonus pic because of course I ss'd mid-blink

[foolishsweet]

Aughh Tsukasa peaked in terms of writing on his FES side stories, and ever since it isn't that he is declining, more so he is getting stuck in a loop of struggling that despite any progress he makes, and that feels stagnant.

He tries, he fails, he comes to terms with it, and relatively succeeds, only to face another wall again, and repeat.

The worst part is that people are saying they want him to face failure and it being a big thing, but he literally has been failing. The victories he's been having are all actually quite small.

My only hope is that this is all building up frustration.

Both for the reader and Tsukasa himself, experiencing the slow drag of constantly trying to grow further yet only being able to make small steps after his exponential growth from the previous arc.

Rather than a fear of failure, and making that a big thing, it would fit him more a fear of a lack of progress that has been constantly hinted at.

That despite His best efforts and His attempts to take it all in stride, that he gets tired and frustrated. Tired of waiting. Tired of not knowing what to do.

Bc they brought that up back again in detective Tenma despite closing it in his World Link chapter, and I want that to be for a reason.

Under the cut is more wishful thinking (more so fanfic writing), but feat. The rest of WxS this time

I hope the side story from the Hinomori Tenma Autumn event works as foreshadowing.

That WxS notices that Tsukasa is getting stressed out, so they take him somewhere else with the excuse of them looking for show inspiration, when in reality it is just them trying to get him to relax.

Only for that to fail terribly bc Tsukasa is only thinking about the show and not actually destressing, which makes him actually blow up on them like he did in the main story and feel guilty afterwards.

I want WxS to reassure him that it's fine, and that maybe they went about it the wrong way and if there is something else they could do to relax without thinking about the show this time.

Could be a number of things from this point, like:

Going back to Phoenix Wonderland to ride the ferris well again and talk

Going somewhere with a piano so he can get his feelings out by playing with them present.

Doing something fun like walking around the city.

Going to a music event unrelated to shows.

Hang out in the sekai and explore some more.

After All that He could come back the next day with a half written script that points to how he has been feeling and how their outing made him feel as well. (Not really describing it all on the plot but like, it having the overall feeling of everything, similarly to how the Play of the autumn leafs wasn't about his trip, but held the fluffy and laid back feeling of the trip).

I'm not sure where it could go from there, but they would end up talking about it at least...

Also, if you ask, I want Tsukasa to blow up again because he has been waaaaaay to calm(?) these days and I think he deserves to explode for real at least just once.

But also I just want WxS to hang out. Like friends. No show in sight, just a bunch of teenagers having fun with each other.

God it's been a while since my last long pseudo fanfic post, how much are we betting this concept goes to another unit? And who? Lmao(pain)

[elwenyere]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged by my beloved @frostbitebakery: thank you so much, my friend!!!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3

56

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

301,664 words

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

So far, the MCU, Star Wars, and Top Gun.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Call Me By Your (Pet) Name (MCU, Sambucky)

Tactical Engagements (Star Wars, Codywan)

Citation Needed (MCU, Stony)

Helps to Relieve My Mind (MCU, Sambucky)

Good Soldiers (Star Wars, Codywan)

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, yes! Sometimes it takes me a little while to write back if things in real life are hectic, but eventually I do, because I love chatting with readers about what they noticed in a story and what I was thinking about/working on while writing.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have never written what I would call an unhappy ending. But sometimes what we know about the canon ending can still make the ending of a fic bittersweet, and that's true of a fair number of fics I've written. I think the two fics that leave canon angst most fully on the table are my MCU ficlet A Stitch in Time, which is about what else Steve might have done while returning those stones, and my wee Star Wars piece Yes, It Feels Like That, which is a moment with Leia's grief during ANH.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I swear: I used to write plenty of fics that were happy all the way through! That happens a lot less frequently now. But Right on Time is just about the happiest ending I could give to a post-war Codywan, and my Sambucky fic Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice is (to me) maybe the funniest fic I've written.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

I've been very lucky with readers who are largely very generous.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I am a relative newcomer to writing smut, but I have dabbled, yes. I'm not sure what kind of smut it is. Feelings-forward, I guess?

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I think the only thing I've written that could come close to being classified as a crossover was my very first multi-chapter fic, Should You Choose to Accept It, which included characters from both the mainstream Avengers and Agents of SHIELD and mashed up the plots of Iron Man 3, CA: TWS, AOS Season One, and Mission Impossible 3.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes! The Stony identity porn/professor AU fic Citation Needed was a collaboration with the incredible @festiveferret, and it is the most fun I've had writing fic.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Cannot pick a favorite, but my first OTP was Mulder/Scully, and they will always have a special place in my heart.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

God what a painful question. 😅 I am a stubborn bastard, and I don't know if I've fully admitted defeat on any of my WIPs, even the ones I've neglected the most. But the WIP that's probably been waiting for my attention the longest is the sequel to my Stony fic Three Little Words; or, Five Times Steve and Tony Didn’t Actually Apologize + One Time They Did, which I cannot abandon or scrap for parts because I'm really attached to the bits that I have written, but which I haven't been able to make progress on for a long time. Bug me for snips about it if you like: I would love to be able to share what I have so far.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

A borderline aggressive amount of figurative language, narrative beats that feel layered, and I think I have a decent ear for dialogue.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm so, so, so inexpressibly slow, and I also build up increasing levels of anxiety about WIPs when I'm not getting outside perspectives about them, so I find it nearly impossible to write anything longer than 20k.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have experimented with this a little bit in the past, and I'm currently trying it again in a WIP in a language I'm not deeply familiar with, which is nerve-wracking. But I think it can be so effective when done well, and I'm excited to keep growing in that area.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Stony in the MCU: a missing-scene fic from Endgame

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I love all my children equally, but my Codywan fic Recollection is probably the fic that felt most ambitious to me at the time that I wrote it: memory-related temporal shenanigans, surreal scene changes, some heavy psychic territory, and my very first smut scenes. I'm proud of how many new things I tried.

----

Open tags for anyone who would like to play!!! This was very fun: @ me with your answers if you'd like to join. <3<3<3

[karliahs]

For the fic writers ask game, 17 and 18!! :D

17. talk about your writing and editing process

ohh boy! my initial writing process is to clatter as many words onto the page as i can without overthinking it too much. which depending on how much stuff i have stored up in my head, often ends up meaning writing kind of in notes form - often just the dialogue itself with no or very little of the interstitial stuff.

hunted through my drafts and here is an example:

early drafts may also be full of square brackets of things that need to go there - [concluding dialogue] etc - or just empty square brackets to mark a place where i know some kind of descriptor will need to go between dialogue

i don't always write scenes in order, e.g. several of the scenes in unwanted that are chronologically last were written first, which definitely creates more work for myself in the long run trying to make sure things flow right and make sense but sometimes you've just gotta go for the part you're most excited about

then i go through and turn the notes into real prose, fill in all the stuff that needs to happen around the dialogue

and then i edit...obsessively. there are definitely exceptions where i've thrown things up after only a few readthroughs, but unwanted for example...i think i did editing passes on sections of that upwards of 20 times? when something is in progress i'll often get myself back into the flow by rereading & editing the parts that are already written, so whatever was written first might get an insane number of readthroughs before it all gets done

a big part of early editing is syntax and punctuation - we all joke about semicolon addictions but truly first draft me is always like. every sentence is connected to every other sentence. gotta have 4000 colons, semicolons, dashes. and i don't want to dedicate brain space to reining that in when i'm trying to get ideas out so it gets fixed (...mostly) later

i read through and look for places where sentences snag, where it doesn't quite flow right, and try to fix it. this often means waiting a day or so so i can actually notice that stuff again. i look for words that are being repeated too much (catch first draft me putting some variation of gentle/gently 4 times in the same paragraph)

i spend a lot of time looking at the stuff around dialogue. the actual words said by characters come to me pretty vividly and usually don't need that much work, but when i read through a scene i'm always looking at whether there needs to be more or less descriptors filled in around the dialogue, whether it needs to be sped up by taking some out or slowed down by putting more in.

i go through trimming off dialogue tags when they aren't needed (my old work has...infinitely too many dialogue tags imo), looking for cleverer/neater ways of indicating who is talking. thinking about whether i need to describe how a character says something or if the words said work fine on their own, and looking for repetition in how people are described talking (again first draft me is like. you've gotta indicate they are talking softly! everyone all the time is talking so so softly), and in the descriptions in general.

that kind of line-by-line editing is what i spend most of my time on. because my works are relatively short, i don't need to do as much big structure stuff - though for some fics i fuss with the order of scenes a lot, like unwanted again: i changed the order of the dream sequences and shiho scenes a lot.

then a certain amount of editing for thematic coherency/making sure things come to a conclusion that feels right to me. often i'll spend a lot of time fussing with the last scenes to try and make sure that the resolution feels decisive enough to be satisfying but not like everything is 100% fixed forever, because i'm usually writing people having big emotional things that can't be fixed without like 100k words and a bunch of therapy. it's a balance.

ahhh this got so long but man. editing. it's so so much work. it's the only reason anything i write is any good. it's really exciting when i can feel myself getting better at it. i could talk about it forever probably

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

i'm trying to get better about keeping this stuff because it is really fun to look back on!

i had a doc full of offcuts from dead man's hand, because i pretty much let that conversation wander wherever it wanted to go while drafting and then wrestled it into some kind of coherency later, so here's a section of unused dialogue from there:

[theriverbeyond]

do you know any theories about the actual age of the nine houses or something like that? because I have a feeling in 10000 years a lot more stuff would've happened technologically or culturally. and even if John slowed progress down in the nine houses somehow, the other planets also still have a very earthlike society, sure they forgot the original meaning of Eminem lyrics, but tenthousand years ago people invented sedentary lifestyle, we dont even know half the literature written 2000 years ago (the protagonists of GtN are also able to read everything they come across in Canaan house). I could imagine John just lied to the nine houses maybe/probably even to the Lyctors, maybe implanted them memories of an additional 8000 years, I cant remember if the Lyctors give any numbers as to how long they know John. What I'm pretty sure of though is that BoE never talks about how long they or the Empire existed.

It could also be that Tamsyn Muir just glossed over this, chose a random number (the same age the Empire in Dune is said to be), sure we notice a lot of connections and references, but sometimes I feel like some aspects of the worldbuilding she wasnt as meticulous with. But maybe it would connect nicely to some other theories or fannons, so I figured I'd share.

I could imagine John just lied to the nine houses maybe/probably even to the Lyctors, maybe implanted them memories of an additional 8000 years, I cant remember if the Lyctors give any numbers as to how long they know John.

ok this is FASCINATING and something that I have considered, but I can't believe it without finding a potential motive for why he would do it? i just don't know why he would want to do that. (and also, I think BOE would 1000% include it as an anti-House propaganda talking point, and they don't) BUT he has shown he can alter memories... so........ it could be!!

my honest thoughts about the time span tho is i think this is a Rule Of Cool thing. if it was JUST the 9 houses, and we didn't know anything about BOE/outside of system stuff, i could believe TM is going for something like "John froze the Houses as culturally static for reasons as yet to be revealed". this could make sense because we already know John can freeze people and objects and thanergetic decay, so why not culture as well? among other things, this can make the system easier to govern and make sure his memes stay at least partyway #relatable

the only problem with that, and why I don't think that's what is going on, is exactly what you said: BOE still remembers Eminem lyrics. They have technology that is, even if it is made from different materials, at least recognizable to the 9th houses and their people do not seem to be like, visually distinguishable from the 9 houses. They appear to wear relatively similar clothing even! BOE is outside his domain, which means the universe TLT is in is just Like That.

Same for how like, there is no WAY that after 10k years, the different PLANETS of the 9 houses would still have a common language and cultural overlap enough to like. easily connect and laugh at each others jokes, etc. like take the cultural difference between the AUS and USA interpretations of the word "fanny" and then multiply it exponentially.

i do not think this is a problem however. 10,000 is a cool number, and "myriad" is so much swankier than "millennia", and I think that writing a speculative sci fi book about 10k years from now is not what TM set out to do. i think it's all a fancy set piece & drapery for the core, emotional and character story she is trying to tell

[grey-sides]

I have more thoughts on the lack of commenting and indeed engagement in fandom spaces.

I think there's a few different factors at play. For one, when you look at "big" creator (think a couple hundred thousand followers or more), the chances of them seeing your comment are relatively slim. I could leave a comment on HBomberguy's latest video and the chances of him specifically seeing it are practically nil. Of course, creators have spoken about the vitriol in their comments, but over time people learn to look away from them.

People don't understand that it's not the same for AO3 or tumblr or sharing anything else. I do see every comment, I see every reblog and tag addition. We see all of that and we love seeing it. I've only ever once received hate on a piece and I don't lose sleep about it. The volume simply does not exist to drown out the comment, even if you're a Big Name in fandom with a lot of clout.

I think the second issue that school primes us to only interact with things on a critical basis. When I was in academia, I had learned that one way to approach a research paper, was to look at shortcomings and see if there was room for another paper in it. But people take this to everything. You can't just enjoy something or you're cringe, unintelligent, uncritical. It's childish to just like something outright. I believe this is becoming applied to fan creations as well.

If I were to say I like Stranger Things as it is written, I would probably get comments or DMs pointing out the flaws, the way it's not good. For things I actually, genuinely like, I don't interact with the fandom. I don't want to know how the Actually Smart and Aware people view the media I like.

I can't say I'm surprised people don't comment, take fanart and fanfic for granted. People demand updates and refuse to read in progress works because nothing comes easy. This is easy to make demands of. If you don't write or create anything, that's okay, but please understand it takes time.

Every work I put out, I am proud of. Even if it's short or silly or simple. Even if it only took me 20 minutes. I am still proud of it, I hope others see my pride and want to share in it with me. I like getting comments, I like leaving comments. I write, I have written, and still sometimes I find myself lost for words when I want to share my praise.

The point to all of this is that, if you think it's cringe to like the source material, then maybe you shouldn't engage with the fan creations either. I can feel when someone is making something out of anger, it's not the same as someone writing something out of love. There is a place for anger, there is, but please do not take your disappointment out on me. I made what I did because I wanted to share in the creator's pride.

And slow down. Please. We consume so much, so quickly now that we lose sight of how long something takes to create. Slow. Down. Take a breath before you open the next fic before you scroll to the next piece of art. Move like you move in a museum.

[angsty-nerd]

Max + Identity in Season 2

In the pilot, when Max self-identifies who he is to Liz, he tells her, "I'm a son, I'm a brother, I'm a cop...I'm just a guy from Roswell." All of those pieces of his self identity are systematically destroyed in Season 2, to the point where in the season finale he's grasping onto the last thing he feels like might be real about himself -- his role as the savior. A role that he scoffed at before his death, that he didn't really seem to believe, until all of the things he did believe about himself were gone. And then he loses that too, upon the discovery that he's not the only one, that he lacks any form of individuality. That Jones is just like him.

We get our first hint that this is coming in 2x05 when Rosa and Isobel get a glimpse inside Max's mindscape. They are literally traveling through the dying remnants of Max's mind, watching as these pieces of him are slowly fading away. There are three key visual clues in these scenes that give us insight into how he sees himself.

Most obviously, in his mindscape he is fully dressed in his Sheriff's Department uniform. This is the self-identity that he projects to the outside world in Season 1. There are many good metas out there about the layers behind that. How he takes his hat off when he's not on the job because he doesn't feel he deserves it. But all in all, his internal self image is the deputy that the public sees. I’ll add a link below to one where Mo and I were discussing this.

He is surrounded by Liz. And slowly losing her. This could be (and is) a meta all on its own about his psyche in general. He said it himself in 1x03 when he told her that he loves her. "That's what everything is about for me!" And this is the visual embodiment of it. His internal identity completely encompassed and consumed by his memories of Liz and all the things that represent her for him. And yes, their slow degredation are a literal representation. Of his memories of her slowly disappearing, but I also definitely would argue that it's exposing his deepest fear as well - that she'll leave him again.

And of course, he is chained to the floor. We are still, at this point in the season, just getting a glimpse at the layers of trauma hidden within his subconscious, but this is a direct look inside of him and his trauma is right there staring him in the face. These are hidden scars that he hasn't even begun yet to discover, but slowly begin to reveal themselves throughout Season 2b. And I expect will be prevalent in Season 3 as well.

The progression of Max's identity crisis started from the moment he woke up, with a portion of his self literally erased through the loss of his memories of Liz. A lot was made of the sweetness of him telling her at the end of the episode "I am not whole without you." But in a sense that statement could have been almost a thesis for his character arc in Season 2. He spends the entire season not whole, losing little pieces of himself one by one until he's not sure who he is at the end of 2x13.

Once his memory returned in 2x06, it briefly seemed like Max was back to normal, but that quickly got undercut in the opening scene of the next episode when it was first hinted at that he shouldn't be using his powers anymore. In 2x07 it was suggested that Liz was just being overly cautious, but her fears were proved to be accurate in 2x08 when Max does use his powers and immediately suffers chest pain. Its a physical reaction to his powers that's further emphasized in 2x12 when he almost dies trying to kill Flint. Nothing was explicitly stated, but I still speculate he had a full on heart attack in that moment, or that the pacemaker briefly failed, given how hard it was to resuscitate him. But without his powers, he's not complete as an alien anymore.

In 2x09 he loses what he thought he understood about his own origin story. Sheriff Valenti's version of the incident in the group home not only undercut certain facts about himself that he always had believed to be true - that he was the solid, stable one. That he was the strong one. Suddenly he's being told that he's the traumatized one, that he's the one with the behavioral pattern of being a loose cannon.

He loses his job. Okay, officially he quit in 2x07 to search for Jenna, but let's be honest here...if he hadn't quit, then he certainly would have lost his job when Sheriff Valenti arrested him in 2x09. We saw in his mindscape and heard from his lips in the pilot how strongly he identifies as a cop. But now that uniform, and that identity, have literally been stripped away from him...and replaced with a new uniform, sexy Wild Pony bartender man!

So, we have him stripped of his identity as an alien with powers, stripped of his identity as a cop. And in 2x10 he gets stripped of his identity within his family, when he learns that he and Isobel are not related. All of those self-identified aspects of himself have disintegrated, and he's left floundering to figure out who he is without those things. Which is why he begins to throw himself into trying to regain his memories, potentially even at the expense of his health through the use of the serum. Because he is so desperate to find a truth about himself to hold on to.

But that journey is also doomed to undercut him. One of my favorite musical moments of Season 2 is the second time he experiences a memory flash triggered by his own reflection, at the end of 2x10, with the cover of Bullet With Butterfly Wings playing over the scene. @echoapothecary did a great set on this scene right after the episode aired... link below.

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Someone will say what is lost can never be saved

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Tell me I'm the only one

Tell me there's no other one

Jesus was the only son, yeah

Tell me I’m the chosen one

I think in the moment we were supposed to take the visual flash at face value and assume that this was about Max's trauma from being imprisoned as a child, but on rewatch (and frankly, listening to the song over and over and over…) I really think the choice was more about identity, and foreshadowing the reveal of Jones as a mirror, clone, relative, something….to Max?

While in the middle of the S2 experience, one of my favorite gif sets that @maxortecho made for me was this idea of Max, and people constantly cutting him down, while Liz loved him regardless of those things (linked below). At the time I was really focusing on him and his reaction to being constantly told he was a let down. Add to that the appearance of Diego in 2x10, and Max isn’t even trying to hide his low self esteem and feelings of insecurity anymore. But take those constant undercuts and add to it the tidal wave of an identity crisis as all of the things you believe to be true about yourself fall apart, and we're left with the Max we see in the last couple episodes of Season 2. A man on a mission, manic and desperate to figure out who he is now, exacerbated by the fact that he's literally on drugs (the serum).

Only then, in his desperate, manic state, does he find himself willing to believe the implausible (to him) reveal at the end of Season 1 that he might be the Savior. Because it's the last thing that makes him unique, that makes him feel like he has a role, a purpose…until he loses that too at the end of the episode when they release Jones, a literal copy of himself, from his prison.

All of these gifs were gratefully borrowed from @maxortecho, with two exceptions. Wild Pony Max 🔥 is @rosaortecho’s work, and Howdy 🧔🏻 is (I think) @darlingnotso’s. (Please correct me if I’m wrong).

[buckys-estrella]

𝑪��𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆

Forge of the Heart

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: The year is 1774 and Sargent James Buchannan Barnes of the British army has been sent to Boston, Massachusetts in the thirteen colonies. The Quartering Act has just been put in place and he along with two other soldiers will be staying in the house of a colonist. He expected resistance but he never thought that he would find the eldest daughter of the household to be so intriguing. 

Warnings: Enemies to lovers/slow burn(?), events leading up to the revolutionary war, talks of violence/actually violence, (more to come as the story progresses). No real warnings for this chapter.

   The ship was just setting into port as Sargent Barnes came up to the deck. The town of Boston was shrouded in fog during the early morning hours. Not many colonists were up and about at the time, but those who were stared at the incoming British ship with disdain. When it finally docked, James was approached by the two men he’d be staying with; Captain Steven Grant Rogers and Private First-Class Samuel Thomas Wilson. They were all relatively close, however more so with Steve, given that they’ve been friends since childhood. 

   “The address Colonel Pierce gave us was 17 Hanover St.” Sam spoke up as he grabbed his trunk and motioned for them to get theirs as well. “Might as well head there now and get settled down.

  They arrived at the house shortly after they left the docks. Steve took the lead and placed two hard knocks on the door. The men could hear some shuffling on the other side, and the door slowly opened to reveal a beautiful young woman. You gave them all a once over and a hard stare before finally speaking. 

   “So, you’re the ones assigned to our house,” with faux delight, you added, “great, more mouths to feed!”

   You opened the door fully and ushered them in while introductions were made. You led them to the kitchen where she had been preparing breakfast. It looked to be oatmeal with toast and jam. 

   “I had only made enough for my family; we were not expecting you for another day. Let me wake up my siblings, and I’ll come back and make more. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable at the table.” 

   The three sat down at the table as you left and began to discuss amongst themselves. It wasn’t long before you returned with two kids trailing behind you and taking their seats at the table. After the sleep was rubbed from their eyes, they stared at the men warily. The younger girl spoke up first, introducing herself as Charlotte. Her introduction prompted that of her older brother, whose name was Benjamin. When their formalities were done, they proceeded to act as if the soldiers were invisible and continued on with their morning. You were in the kitchen preparing some more oats when you declared to Benjamin that he needed to finish up soon if he were to make it to school on time. 

   “As for you three,” you said more pointedly, “your food is nearly done. Is there something you want to drink as well?”

   Steve was the first to speak up, “Some tea would be nice.” 

   You turned around, staring daggers at him. Your voice held aggression in it when you said, “I’m sorry, but tea is out of the question. If we weren’t taxed so heavily for it, then maybe that could’ve been an option. Now I’ll ask again, is there something you’d three would like to drink?” 

   They stayed silent for a moment before Bucky mentioned, “I’m not much of a tea person anyways. If it doesn’t trouble you, I’d like some coffee.”

   You stared at him incredulously before saying, “What type of redcoat doesn’t like tea?”

   He gave a shrug saying it made his stomach feel upset. You gave a small laugh at that before turning back to the breakfast you were preparing. About a minute later, both Benjamin and Charlotte finished their breakfast, and the boy got up to rush out the door with a chalkboard and books in hand. Charlotte proceeded to pick up the dishes and bring them to the sink to be washed. Watching both of them move about in the kitchen was peaceful, they worked together like a well-oiled machine. 

   “Breakfast is ready for the second time this morning. The coffee is almost done boiling, feel free to pour yourself a cup when it’s done. I have some laundry to attend to outside, and Charlotte will finish setting up David’s and my room for you to put away your items. Do me a favor, and don’t leave the kitchen until one of us are done.”

   Your sister was already gone down the hall, to where they assumed the rooms are located before you finished speaking. You were soon gone too through the back door with a basket at your hip. Bucky couldn’t help but watch you, there was something graceful in the way that you moved. You was mesmerizing to look at. It didn’t take long for Sam to catch on. 

   “Well, someone sure looks smitten.” His lips quirked up into a smirk before adding, “I don’t blame you; she looks simply ravishing.” Before Buck got the chance to, Steve smacked him upside the head.

   “We aren’t here to fraternize with the locals, so both of you: knock it off.”

   With that statement hanging in the air, they ate their breakfast in silence. Sometime later, Charlotte came back, informing them that the rooms were ready and leading the men down the hall. 

   “We only have two rooms available, so two of you will have to share.”

   “Sam and I will share; Steve’s our captain, he should have a room to himself.”

   “Buck, I don’t need- “ 

   “Don’t argue with me on this Rogers, just take the room.”

   Charlotte butted in saying that Steve would take David’s room while Sam and Bucky take your room. A small surge of excitement went through him at the thought of being in your room, but Bucky pushed it down before Steve could tell. He’d probably scold him and give Barnes a talking-to about how he shouldn’t get involved with the locals. Easy for him to say when he has a gal back at home who loves him. 

   Sam and Buck lugged their trunks into your room and tried to settle down. It was a simple room with some personal touches. You had a single shelf of books with their spines showing frequent use. It was apparent you liked to read; your father must’ve taught you because it wasn’t typical for women to be well versed in reading. You had paint and charcoal near your bed, where something was sticking out from underneath. Under closer inspection, he realized that you had drawings and paintings hidden. They quite nearly took his breath away, the talent you had for art was remarkable. 

   “Damn.” Sam was looking over Bucky's shoulder with awe in his eyes. “Do you think she made that?”

   “Right there, in the corner, it looks like she signed her name. I’d say she did make it.”

   “Wow, she could make some good money from that.” Sam had a point; a skill like this was a treasure that should be shared, but Barnes had the feeling that you hid them for a reason, and now it started to feel like an invasion of your privacy. 

   “I think I should put these back, she probably didn’t want us seeing them. Let’s finish settling down and then meet with Steve.”

   Not long into putting his things away, something caught his eye. More accurately, someone. The window of your room looked directly to the back of the house. He watched as you started taking the clothes off the line and into the basket. You looked beautiful but frustrated. You were muttering to yourself in what looked like a scolding manner. Maybe he made a sudden movement that attracted your attention, but you stopped and looked up. You two locked eyes for a moment before you turned away feeling flustered. Bucky couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. He started to think that maybe he’d enjoy his stay in the colonies after all.

A/N: Here's my entry for @daffodilsbucky 1k writing challenge! I'm actually really excited about this because I've had this idea for a long time but never had a reason to write it. Sorry that this isn't the most historically accurate, I did do research but there are still going to be parts that just aren't exact or correct. I had writer’s block for FIVE months and I finally got past it and cranked out the chapter. Anyways, I tried my somewhat best and I hope you guys enjoy it! 

Taglist: @daffodilsbucky // @seasaurusrrex // @sunmoonandbucky // @professionalreblogs // @fangeekkk // @ravennightingaleandavatempus// @piper-koko-barnes-rogers // @viarogers // @dianadov // @sunkissedbarnes // @simplyhemmings // @isabelcrichards // @kakakatey // @kiki5283 // @slytherinyourrpants // @thelostallycat // @spidizzlemizzle // @actualdpshuri // @https-bucky // @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog // @everything-is-awesomesauce // @cap-just-said-language // @deathofmissjackson // @darthseph // @deliciouslyenchantingpenguin // @nerdy-bookworm-1998 // @thirstyghostqueen // @thewackywriter // @binkysteebnpewter // @team-lads-ass // @everything-but-the-not-natural // @ollovae3 // @my-drowning-in-time // @nsfwfangirl // @thefridgeismybestie // @augustdearly // @inez-lannister-stark-martell // @clarinette07 // @oh-hey-janina // @sinner-as-saint // @wiensrsoldier // @iwillmakeyoucraveme  // @mypassionsarenysins // @bvcky-is-my-baby // @bonky-barnes // @jbbarnesgirl // @sexyvixen7​ // @peterpandco​ // @nimrodblackparade // @bellamys ​ // @asadmarveltrashbag //

I tagged people from To The Stars and mutuals who I thought might be interested, if you want on or off the taglist just let me know :) Also I know some people changed their user names so please just send me a message if you are on one of my taglists so I can fix it!

[o0o-chibaken-o0o]

Hi there, do you have any recs for long drarry fics? I'm not very good at finding them

Hello!! I’ve done a rec list for long, slow burn fics in the past, so please check that out because I love every fic on that list to death! But OH MAN I could talk about long Drarry fics for the rest of my life, so here are some more! All very long, but not necessarily slow burn this time ;)

What We Pretend We Can’t See by gyzym (131K)- Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.This is the only one I am going to copy from the slow burn rec list, because I just want to rec it every day of my life. It is quite literally my number one favorite fic ever, and I am not exaggerating. Do you see how serious I am right now? I am never serious. This fic is so amazing it turned me serious. I’m not even going to summarize it again because if you trust me at all you will just go read it nooooooow.

Turn by Saras_Girl (307K)- One good turn always deserves another. Apparently. Of course in the middle of declaring my favorite fic ever, I had to remember Turn and how utterly brilliant it is and how I’ve reread it and it was STILL utterly brilliant the second time and have a crisis because MAYBE THIS IS ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE FIC???! Aaah help, I can never choose! Anyway, are you a drarry fan who hasn’t read Turn yet? Really? Well, in that case FUCK YOU BECAUSE I AM SO JEALOUS YOU GET TO READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME YOU LUCKY BASTARD. *ahem* Anyway, in this amazing fic, epilogue-compliant and worn-down Harry goes to an alternate dimension in which he is happily married to Draco, owns the best pet snake ever, and makes furniture for a living (love artsy Harry

Tales from the Special Branch Series by femmequixotic (272K so far)- (Summary is from the second part of the series, which is the first long installment: Lost in Your Arms) Three months after their brief encounter, Draco has almost forgotten about Potter–or so he tells himself. Then a Dark wizard shows up on the Auror radar and all hell breaks loose. Draco will have to choose between everything he holds dear–everything he’s worked so hard for–and a few stolen moments of passion with a certain green-eyed Inspector, once his sworn enemy and now something rather different entirely. He’ll make the right choice, won’t he? Who is he kidding? He’ll ruin everything, as per usual. Bad choices and the name Malfoy go hand in hand.This series is a WIP, but a regularly updated one and the FIRST CHAPTER OF THE NEXT BOOK IS BEING RELEASED TOMORROW AND I AM SO EXCITED!!! I feel so lucky to be following along with it as it comes out, because let me tell you, this is an instant classic! There is lovely forbidden fornication between a boss (Harry) and his subordinate (Draco) (the prequel was written for the kink fest so you can bet the sex is SCORCHING), a very compelling mystery/case, and truly brilliant characterization! I identify so much with this Draco. And I also love that Harry isn’t the perfect flawless cinnamon roll he is often portrayed as in fics. Everyone in this series is very human, and I am just dying of excitement to find out what happens to them next! I know I’ve already gushed about this fic in several other places recently, and I’m sorry to repeat myself but I really can’t get enough! PLEASE JOIN ME IN ROOTING FOR @femmequixotic AS SHE KINDLY DEDICATES HER SOUL TO US ALL FOR THE NEXT BIT OF HER LIFE

Secrets by Vorabiza (395K)- Beginning with Draco’s unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry’s summer after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side. OMG it’s the first fic I ever read!! The fic that brought me into the fandom! I have suuuuuch a soft spot for this fic, and it is just so so so good! It’s probably my favorite adventure/wizarding war plot of all. Harry is just so confident and he embraces his Slytherin side and really Gets Shit Done, and it’s SO SATISFYING. Also, I love any fic in which Draco helps with the Horcrux hunt. Also there’s a baaaaaaby (no mpreg) and mentor!Snape, which is really nice. This fic was written post-HBP, but is SURPRISINGLY accurate in its predictions. Oh, and the sex is super hot too ;)

Checkmate by Naadi (245K)- Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind? A real chess game is played throughout the story.This fic is so lovely! It’s an “alternate 7th year AU”, written after Goblet of Fire. It’s fluffy and funny and lovey and then dramatic and passionate and YEAH I LOVED IT. The real time game of chess, in which Harry and Draco take turns making “moves” (on each other) is just such a wonderful idea. Read the author’s note for more info! 

Leo Inter Serpentes by Aeternum (658K combined so far)- Just one conversation between two eleven year old boys goes slightly differently, and the world changes. Just how much will be different with Harry being sorted into Slytherin, and how much will stay the same?SLYTHERIN HARRY ALERT SLYTHERIN HARRY ALERT! Yep, a Slytherin Harry rewrite, and a REALLY GOOD ONE. Like usually I love the idea of Slytherin Harry, and then once I start reading I either find I’m bored because everything is just a repeat of canon or I can’t get into it because everyone is so OOC. But not this one! This fic is engaging and different enough from canon to be interesting and I love the eleven-year-old baby drarry friendship that eventually turns to romance! This fic also features benevolent mentor!Snape, which I suppose is either an enticement or a warning depending on your preferences. You SHOULD be warned that it’s a WIP. But the author is currently actively posting the 6th book, and I have hope it won’t be abandoned :)

Any Instrument by dicta_contrion (131K)- Draco Malfoy wouldn’t go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can’t control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.Okay I have a HUGE thing for healer!draco and this fic portrayed him so so so perfectly. Harry is having complications with his magic after an operation gone wrong. So Draco comes from France and of course they can’t get together because Draco is Harry’s healer but OMG THE UST and then let me just say that when they finally do have sex, it’s the most beautiful, moving, heart-stopping sex scene you will ever read. Like, I felt it in my soul. And the character development is so compelling and there are literally no flaws in this fic whatsoever.

Starts With a Spin by Maxine (120K)- It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there’s almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.AAAAH this fic has all the teenage drarry feels! They’re so in character, always trying to one-up each other! And like these constant party games are happening and they’re being “forced” to go further and further with each other by their friends until they’re actually having sex, and YET THEN THE WAR IS STILL ON AS WELL, and it’s just super well-written and great! Another classic :D

Changing of the Guard by Lomonaaeren (210K)- Need a perfect stranger? Ask Metamorphosis. Harry Potter runs the business secretly and becomes whoever’s needed for each occasion. He’s not sure whether he should be more surprised, worried, or amused when Draco Malfoy comes to Metamorphosis and requests an actor who can play his boyfriend so that his parents will disown him. Yet Harry has even more dangerous choices after he creates Brian, Draco’s “perfect” boyfriend. Draco doesn’t know who Brian is, but he’s trying to find out—and now so is Harry.Aaah Lomonaaeren! Drarry writer of my dark, dark heart! And yet I know some people aren’t huge fans of her style and I don’t want to be reccing her fics all the time, so I try to keep the Lomon recs relatively infrequent. But if you are looking for long fics and you do like her style, I’m pretty sure she can keep you busy for like an entire year. This woman is more prolific than Steven King, and it’s a true blessing. As for this particular fic, Harry basically has Dissociative Identity Disorder, but he has been making the most of it by running a whoever-you-need-for-hire business. Only then Draco arrives, and Harry’s world had to come crashing down at some point and that point is NOW, and the drama is just so so good and this fic gave me ALL THE FEELS. It’s possibly my favorite of her fics :)

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: More sensuality. Dry-humping.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Some time around five in the morning, Anna gave up on sleep completely. Sidling over to Elsa's desk, she 'borrowed' a piece of paper and a pencil. She wasn't going to get any more sleep, so she may as well use the time to plan.

Kristoff. Elsa had to fall for Kristoff, not her. They had to get married and have kids – and maybe when Anna was back in her own time she could try and help fix their relationship then, too. However, she had to figure out how to make all of this happen without screwing everything up as badly as she had been so far or she would never get the chance.

So by the time she made it to Kristoff's that morning, seeing that he was up early and doing the family laundry, she had something a little more concrete to work with. About the only plan she could see that would do the trick. The problem seemed to be that Anna was "cool" and appealing, and Kristoff was just boring in a relative sense. Maybe she couldn't exactly make herself less attractive to her young mother, nor could she make Elsa purebred-hetero, but she had a possible solution to put her dad back in the running.

"Alright, walk me through this again," he sighed as he tossed in the dryer sheet. "You're going to the dance with her, but she's going to end up with me? That's doesn't make sense."

"It's just a backup plan, Dad. Uh… I mean, rad. I mean, that doesn't make any sense, either." Shaking out her head, she tried to push through and cut to the chase. "You can still ask her during the party, but if it doesn't work, I think you sailing in like Batman will make her notice you."

Nodding, he slammed the door and it started tumbling their clothes. "Fine, fine," he sighed as he turned back to the basket, picking out a few clothes to toss in the washer. "And I do love Adam West. But the part I don't get is, how am I saving her from you? I mean, she's your friend."

'Oh, honey,' she thought. He was looking at her with an expression almost as naïve as his words. "Well…" Clearing her throat, she turned away. "Elsa's a sweet girl. Nervous and kinda delicate. So when I get a little rough with her… she'll want someone to save her from that."

"Rough how?"

"Handsy." When Kristoff was still just blinking at her, she went on, "Come on, not even you can be this dense! I'm gonna take advantage of her!"

"WHAT?! You mean you're gonna touch her on her, her…" As he gesticulated, Anna winced to see that her paternal grandmother's bra was in one of his hands. "But you're both girls! A-and- ohhh, what the hell?!"

"Kristoff, calm down!" Taking the bra from him, she tossed it into the washer and tried to ignore how red his face was getting. Probably a lot like her own. "It's just an act! Besides, if you stick to the schedule, I won't even get any further than pushing her down and looking at her funny, right? Just enough to make her worried, and for you to look like the hero."

He still looked incredibly unsure, but at least he wasn't arguing anymore. Still, she knew what he was thinking because she was thinking it, too.

"Look," she sighed, somewhat morosely. "I'm not going to hurt her for real. I promise. Like you said, she's my friend, and… and I care about her a lot. So chill."

Finally, he smiled. It was a little weak and lopsided, but hey, it was there. The moment was broken when the dryer gave a particularly loud thunk. Kristoff jumped; Anna shrieked. For a moment, the only noise was the sound of the machine, cheerfully chugging along.

Then Kristoff started laughing. Heart still thundering in her chest, Anna could only glare at him for a few moments. His face was redder than before, face screwed up in mirth. Were those tears in his eyes? But then he didn't stop. Every time his laughter slowed, all he had to do was look at Anna and it renewed. Soon she was giggling along with him. Slowly her irritation was replaced with something else: a feeling of camaraderie – foreign, much like most of the positive emotions she'd experienced in relation to her father thus far had been – overcame her.

"C'mon, dude," she said between hiccups of laughter. "It's not that funny!"

Kristoff disagreed. "You didn't- didn't see your face!" he chuckled.

It took more genuine effort than she expected, but eventually Anna did get her giggles under control. They parted company, confident of their two-fold plan. First, they would try to help Kristoff "schmooze" his way into Elsa's heart at the party itself. Then, if that earned them no progress, she would go through with Plan B. Given that they both seemed to loathe it, Anna could only hope that Kristoff would be successful.

                                          ~ o ~

The day of the party, Elsa started passing out her future address to all of her friends and close acquaintances. Not that she knew that's what it was; only that it was an empty space in which to arrange a bash. She was able to talk Al into helping to get together some of the essentials, and he promised he'd grab some of his teammates for the task. Everything was shaping up great.

Meanwhile, Anna had wheedled a little more cash out of Doc for two more outfits: a party outfit, and a prom dress. The fuchsia mini skirt and fishnet leggings made her feel stupid, almost as much as the denim vest over the black long-sleeve button-up, but she knew everybody else would be wearing similar fashion disasters. She just had to grin and bear it.

"You excited?" she hissed to Elsa as they were getting ready to leave the school. She was a little sad; this would be her last 'school day' with her. Weird as everything had been, she would definitely miss seeing this part of her mother's life.

"I wanna hurl, dude," Elsa confessed with a shaky sigh. "This is the first real party I've ever kinda-sorta thrown myself. It has to be bad, or I'll be a bogus bimbo from now until graduation."

"Those are a lot of B-words." Suppressing the worry that this would cause a resurgence of the urges from the night before, Anna linked her arm with Elsa's as they headed to Ariel's shiny Nova. It wasn't a great car overall, but at least it was fairly new, and she had the use of it most days.

"Oh… hey," Elsa breathed, glancing down at their arms and then back up at Anna's face.

"We got this."

"We got what?" she asked. Anna could kick herself for lapsing with the lingo so often. "O-oh, you mean the party? Yeah, I'm sure it'll be tubular. Or… reasonably sure."

"It's gonna be amazing," Anna insisted. "Everybody's gonna have fun tonight. The key is to let them have their own fun – no micromanaging!"

Elsa merely nodded her head. Honestly, it wasn't something Anna was overly concerned about. There was gonna be some food and soda and apparently Elsa had some 'really neat tunes, totally not square'. She had no idea why her mother was so stressed.

"You're coming, right?"

Oh. That may be why she was worried. Keeping her frown to herself, Anna nodded. "Yeah! Gotta make sure no one messes up your little shindig."

"Shindig?" she snorted, eyes alight. "What is this, the 50s? Who even says that anymore?"

"I do!" Anna defended. Elsa shook her head, a smile still playing at her lips, but she said nothing more.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each seemingly having no idea how to continue the conversation. It was only when they neared Elsa's friends that she spoke.

"Thank you, Tori," she said honestly. Sincerely. "For all you've done."

"Ahhh, it was nothing." Anna tried to play it cool, but obviously wasn't doing too well. Not when Elsa paused in her steps to face Anna fully. "Hey," she said softly. "What brought this on?"

Elsa shrugged and didn't say anything for a moment. "I just…" she began. "I just get the feeling you're going to be leaving soon, so..."

"What? Oh… well, yeah, probably am." How did she know she was leaving? Still, she had to do better. "Definitely am. Gotta head home, y'know?"

"Right! So I wanted to tell you in case I don't get the chance or- or in case something changes." Change? What could change? Anna's mouth was already open and primed to ask when Elsa interrupted. "So thank you, Victoria."

"Well… I'm… okay." She decided not to fight Elsa on that, since she really wasn't exactly sure what she would be fighting against. In truth, if they hadn't already technically crossed lines, hadn't masturbated next to each other, she probably would have leaned up to kiss her on the cheek – to reassure her. Instead, she merely squeezed her bicep. "You're welcome. But you honestly don't have to thank me; I just think you're a… rad chick and want to help you out."

"After what happened, I'm not sure I deserve that," she sighed as they got closer to the car.

"What do you mean?" But Elsa didn't answer. They were too close to Ariel now, which Anna understood… but she still had to wonder what Elsa had been going to say. Did she completely blame herself for their straying over the line and into the Danger Zone? That wasn't fair.

"Ready to crank this party to eleven?!" Ariel was asking them, blotting out the rest of Anna's inner musings. Along with her, Elsa and Jasmine immediately cried out in unison "IT GOES TO ELEVEN?!" and Anna could only shake her head and laugh, wondering where this wonderfully ridiculous version of her mother had gone.

                                          ~ o ~

A few hours later, they had the model home as tricked out as it could possibly be. Somewhere, they had dug up an actual deejay, and he brought a crate full of the best early-80s new wave and rock hits. Even a little disco, despite how most of them rolled their eyes to see the 'Saturday Night Fever' soundtrack amongst his selection.

They also grabbed a few folding chairs and added them to the plain, boring couch and armchair that had been in the living room. There was no TV – or rather, the one in there was just a cardboard display to give the impression of an actual TV – but they didn't really need one. They quickly set up a drink and snack station in the dining room, and put out bowls of chips and some dip on the coffee table so there would be more than one place to grab food.

"Looks good so far," Jazz was saying as she looked around at their work. "Wish we had more Pepsi Free, and more Coke Classic than New Coke…"

"Well the New Coke was on sale," Ariel said. "We're not exactly millionaires."

"Well, Al is bringing some supplies, too," Elsa reasoned, "So we're probably gonna be set no matter what." She was currently rearranging the table, making sure they had enough coolers full of ice – and enough room in them – for the various drinks. She was nervous and scared of failing, that much was obvious.

"So, who's coming?" Anna asked. Ariel and Jazz were, bless their souls, entirely unhelpful. Jazz could only name one person – "Al!" – and Ariel gave a shrug.

"Word probably passed around the school," Elsa said. "Have you never thrown a party before?" They all turned to Anna.

"Oh, heh, well, not exactly. Where I'm from parties tend to be a little… different." She'd been invited to them, of course. After the first one she'd never gone again. Parties were loud and obnoxious things. When someone inevitably brought out the alcohol, she added 'scary' to that list. Drunk people were scary. And most seemed not to realise what it did to them, what it turned them into – both in the short term, and in the long term.

Realising that she'd been staring at Elsa as those thoughts swirled in her head, Anna shook her head. "I guess I'm just not a huge party girl," she said.

At first, Elsa and her friends laughed a little. Then when she realised Anna wasn't joking, the blonde leaned in a little closer. "Wait… are you serious? But you're the coolest girl I know!"

"Maybe… sobriety is cooler?" When they only stared, she wilted and mumbled, "Yeah okay, didn't expect that one to work. But for real, I'm just not much of a drinker, sorry."

Of course, that would be the exact moment Al and his posse showed up with the keg and a couple bottles of harder liquor. Anna swallowed her disappointment and helped them set up, getting everything ready and appointing one of the jocks – some giant beefcake who called himself "Herc" – as the one to watch the table and make sure nobody drank themselves stupid. Not that she really trusted him to do that.

Around the time the first few guests began to show up, Elsa took Anna aside and whispered, "Why are you doing all this?"

"Huh?"

"This party. If you're not a partier, then why would you go to all this trouble to help set one up?"

Her thoughts went to Kristoff, who was probably trying to parallel park outside as they spoke. "Oh… just trying to be a good friend, I guess."

"Ah. Well, I want you to know I appreciate-" But that was as far as she got before she was being dragged away by Ariel to help greet and mingle. That was just as well, since it gave Anna an excuse to head for the refreshments and grab herself some caffeine.

She was also hoping to run across Kristoff. She'd told him to be early – "but not too early!" – but so far she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. Twenty minutes later, by the time the party was getting into full swing, he still hadn't arrived.

A little irritated at his lack of punctuality, she made her way out the front of the house. There were kids strewn everywhere. It wasn't too bad yet – no one was truly drunk, which was nice. And down the street a little, still close enough to be visible in the light, was a familiar face.

"Kristoff!" Anna called, jogging towards him. He gave a start, and lifted a hand in a wave, but he didn't move forward to meet her. So that was the first thing she asked him about. "What the hell? Why aren't you in there yet?"

Looking away, he mumbled some pathetic excuse. Something about not being wanted at the party, an "I'm sure Elsa doesn't want me here." But this was the same old self-esteem issue, so Anna punched him in the shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make him flinch and look up.

"Dude," she said. "This isn't an invite-only gig. And trust me, you're just as welcome as anyone else." Before long, everyone would be too drunk to care whether a 'nerd' was there or not. Plus… they did say Anna was cool. She could invite whoever she wanted! "And besides, you're already here. May as well make the most of it."

She practically had to drag Kristoff towards the house even when she received a reluctant agreement from him. Anna refused to allow him to back out now, not with all the effort she had put into this.

"Just try and strike up a conversation with her," she encouraged him once they were inside. "She won't bite, you know that."

"Fine, fine! Wow, you're pushy!" But he didn't fight her on it, either; seemed to be how he handled most situations.

Back inside, she left Kristoff to approach Elsa and focused exclusively on pigging out on snacks. The potato chips seemed especially bland to her for some reason, and she couldn't decide if New Coke was an acceptable alternative to the stuff she was used to. Stubbornly, she refused to have a single sip of anything alcoholic; she told herself it was only because she needed to remain focused on getting her parents together. Which was mostly true.

After a good fifteen minutes, she floated back out to the living room to find them. However, neither Kristoff nor Elsa was there. Poking her head around the other rooms, she finally had to drift down the hallway to locate one of them.

Elsa was lying on one of the beds, staring up at the ceiling. Ironically enough, it was in the room that would later become Anna's. Even the awful grey feature wall was the same. When she heard Anna come in, she sat up on her elbows, then sighed. "Oh, it's you."

That didn't sound good. Gently closing the door behind her, Anna took a few steps into the room. "What's going on? What are you doing in here?"

Elsa shrugged. Sitting up fully, she curled her legs up under her chin. Anna took it as an invitation to sit near Elsa's feet. She smiled to herself – the Elsa of her time would have had kittens to see shoes on the bed.

"Just wanted to get away," she finally admitted.

"Not having fun?"

Closing her eyes, Elsa sighed as she turned her head in the direction of the door – it made her sway a little bit. "No, no, it's not that. I just… Kristoff asked me to the dance tomorrow."

"OH?!" Anna perked up at that. Perhaps it was lucky that Elsa wasn't looking at her, though, because immediately after, she deflated. If Kristoff had asked her, why was she hiding out here? She was almost too afraid to ask. Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – Elsa wasn't finished.

"He's a great guy, but I…" she trailed off. Sucking in a breath, she turned her gaze to Anna. Her hold on her knees tightened, and Anna couldn't tear her eyes from Elsa's. "I realised that I… really want to go with someone… someone else."

Oh. Fuck.

"Y-yeah?" Anna managed to sputter. She wanted to run, but she managed to force herself to stay still.

"Yeah. And… I think I made a mistake." Her head nodded toward a cup on the previously-empty bedside table. "I thought maybe it would make me feel less upset about the whole situation, but instead now I just want to cry."

This was a tough situation. One of her hands drifted over and patted Elsa's forearm; it was about as neutral a location as she could manage. "Sorry. I really thought you two… w-well, it doesn't matter right now." It did, of course, but she couldn't explain without risking a time paradox.

"Oh, I like him more than I expected. I almost said yes, but then I thought- I… Tori, I just want to go with you. Can't I pick you up in my car, a-and we'll go to the dance together? No grody stuff, I p-promise!"

"Elsa…" Whatever she was going to say died on her lips at the look in Elsa's eyes. Vulnerable, weak. She couldn't do that to her, couldn't destroy what little hope and faith Elsa had. Not right now. And they still had Plan B. "Okay. As long as you swear to me-"

"Pinky swear." Elsa actually did hold up her pinky, and Anna snickered as she took it. But her mother remained serious all the while. "I know… know th-that you were pretty wigged about that. Because we're friends, and you already have a… w-well, anyway. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Then she pushed Elsa a little more firmly against the bed. "Now, just relax here for a little while. I'm gonna get you some food to help soak up the drink."

"Will that work?" she asked, vaguely watching – barely helping – Anna take off her shoes and setting them on the floor.

"I've had practice," Anna muttered under her breath. Cleaning up after her again.

But the bitterness Anna had come to associate with cleaning up her mother's messes didn't come. Looking back at the bed, at the girl sitting forlorn atop the covers, she knew why; this Elsa wasn't her mother. Not yet. This Elsa was just a teenage girl who'd done the same thing countless girls before, and countless after, would do: drink at a party.

Leaving Elsa momentarily, she went out into the wild to forage for some food. Despite the lack of flavor, most of the crisps had vanished. There was some dip and crackers left, but Anna wasn't sure that she could trust it. Eventually she found another, unopened container in one of the coolers. It was a little damp from the ice, but the creamy goodness inside was untouched.

While scrounging around for another packet of crackers, she spied Kristoff standing off to one corner. Sighing, she knew she'd have to talk to him before the dance. But that could wait.

Upon returning to the room, the first thing Anna noticed was that Elsa hadn't moved at all. "I brought dip," she said. "There weren't many chips left but this'll soak it all up a little better."

Glumly, Elsa nodded. Her lips pursed into a point. She looked miserable – and Anna had a feeling that it wasn't the depressing effects of the alcohol. "Why do you hate drinking so much?" she asked, probably more as a distraction than anything else. "I never met anyone who hasn't tried it."

Anna lifted her shoulders, resuming her seat next to Elsa and opening the dip. "I have tried it," she admitted, passing her the container and moving on to the crackers. "And I don't hate it, exactly. More like I hate what it does to people. And I don't just mean like… getting wasted and then having a hangover the next day. I mean the… when you drink… or when someone you love drinks… and they don't ever seem to stop. And they just aren't the person you know because they're always the drunk version, and they can get mean sometimes."

Putting the dip on the bedside table, Elsa picked up a cracker and loaded it with a gratuitous amount of dip. "C'mon, I'd never be wack like that, though. It's just a drink here or there."

This time, Anna couldn't look at her, blinking rapidly. The words were out before she could stop them: "You can't promise that."

She was a little surprised to find a hand on her cheek, forcing her to look up. The cracker had been abandoned in the dip, and Elsa was looking at her with the fiercest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Then I pinky promise," she said. If Anna had been teary before, it was nothing compared to the effect that simple sentence had on her.

"Alright, alright. I believe you," she breathed, but more because she wasn't sure how else to handle this situation anymore. Elsa was looking at her with more love in her eyes than she ever remembered seeing from them in the future. Not that she never loved her; she knew her mother did, in ways that she could manage despite her depression and general dissatisfaction with her life.

But that future Elsa would never have leaned in to take her mouth gently the way this one was.

'Not again!' Anna thought furiously. But again, she had as much difficulty fighting off the advances of her amorous friend-who-would-eventually-birth-her as before. She did back up, but Elsa simply followed. Within moments, Anna found herself on her back, Elsa lying atop her.

She needed to stop, but the longer it went on, the more she found she didn't want to fight Elsa off. Some part of her understood that she needed to, that it was important, and that she knew nothing good could come of this if she let it continue. Furthermore, with or without their chromosomal connection, there was no way she could stay with Elsa knowing how she would turn out. That woman from the future was most definitely not her type.

But this one was. This Elsa was everything she went for in a woman; sensitive, thoughtful, sweet, and kind. Just impulsive enough to know how to have fun, but not some kind of reckless wild child who would hurt her, or get her hurt. And a knockout besides.

"I know," Elsa finally breathed when she broke the kiss, gazing down at Anna's stricken face. "I know what I said… a-and I won't. But… I can't lie to you, Tori. I can't lie to myself."

Anna wasn't thinking. Couldn't think, not when her mind was full of nothing but the kiss they had just shared. She knew her mistake when she leaned up, none-too-gently, to press their lips together again. Her hands came to wrap around Elsa's head, fisting in her hair and holding her close.

Okay, so perhaps this wasn't the sort of relationship she'd ever wanted with her mother, but… there was love. Real love. Anna didn't know how deep it ran through Elsa, but it was there for her. Elsa's lips were soft, and this time, she could appreciate how they felt, kneading into hers. The fact that her hands hadn't moved at all since the beginning, still resting on Anna's cheeks…

Punz wasn't nearly this tactile. Elsa made her feel so wanted. So needed.

But she didn't completely lose herself in the kiss, in the feeling of Elsa atop her, moving gently against her. There was a tiny voice at the back of her head that was asking one little question that she couldn't ignore much longer: What happens now?

"Tori," Elsa breathed briefly when their lips parted, before they moved to Anna's neck, nibbling gently at her skin. She was unpractised in many facets of relationships, but here she excelled. Anna had to close her eyes and suck in a breath, just to keep some of her wits about her.

"Elsa, I… I d-don't know…" What didn't she know? "I don't know if… if I can… do much more than… than this…" That was a much more moderate reaction compared to what she meant to say, but at least it was a toehold.

"We both feel it," she insisted, ghosting her lips over Anna's again. Her eyes were bright, and Anna couldn't maintain contact. "Don't we? And… I'm sorry about that girl, back in wherever, but… can you honestly tell me it's this good with her? This bodacious?"

"I haven't had the chance to f-find out," she replied with a shaky sigh. Maybe she could distract Elsa. "I, um… we were supposed to have our big night, but I ended up coming here instead. It… I was really looking forward to it, we've been kind of awkward potatoes until now."

"Potatoes?" she snickered, reaching up to brush Anna's hair from her forehead. It seemed she had backed off from kissing her again – for the time being, at least. "That way with words you have is pretty weird. But I dig it."

They just looked at each other for a moment. Both were trying to catch their breath; it wasn't the activities, nor any kind of exertion that caused it. When Anna could finally speak, it was to as a question. "Did you… mean it?" Her voice was soft. "What you said earlier?"

Elsa's head tilted, just a little. "What did I say earlier?"

"You-" Anna had to stop to swallow. This shouldn't have been this difficult! She'd already snogged her, and they had come pretty close to doing way more than that once before; asking a question, in comparison, should be a cakewalk! The problem was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. Wasn't sure if she could handle such raw truths from Elsa.

No. She had to know.

"When you… you said you wanted to go w-with… me. To the dance," she added, unnecessarily. Elsa's head jerked back a little, eyes widening a fraction.

"Of course!" she cried out, obviously not having the same issues as Anna. "I mean, what kind of a skank do you think I am? I don't kiss random people for no good reason, Tori. I, um… I kinda have to like them first, and… you're the first person I've liked this much. Don't you see that?"

Then she did it again, almost as if to prove it to both of them. Anna tried to summon up some of the disgust she knew she should be feeling, but it didn't seem to be in proper working order at that moment. Even trying to think about having come out of Elsa's vagina, something she thought for sure would kill the mood for her, just seemed to make her think about that part of her future mother's body in general… which she decided was only making things worse, so she gave up.

At least, she tried to give up. Elsa wasn't making it easy, what with the kissing and moaning and- was she grinding? Anna's hands left Elsa's hair, sliding down her sides to rest at her hips. It only encouraged more movement. The fervour with which Elsa claimed her mouth only seemed to grow, and Anna could only partially blame the alcohol.

Only partially, because here she was responding to that advance without having touched a drop.

"Have I told you," Elsa panted, breaking away for a moment to look Anna in the eyes, "just how hot you look in fishnets?"

"Huh? Really?!" Her mind blanked. Elsa was still staring at her, hair framing her face as she panted. It was blatantly obvious that she was as affected by their actions as Anna felt. Fingertips slid through her bangs, combing them gently. "Wait, whoa, be careful… this is getting close to… to a repeat of…"

"I'm just being honest." Elsa shrugged, though there was a dangerous glint in her dark eyes. "I'm jealous; on me, I'd just look like a cheap hooker. But you pull it off. 'Red hot' instead of 'red light'."

Elsa was moving closer again. The temporary distraction had seemingly worn off, and now she was gunning for the girl she had no idea was related to her. "Red light?"

"You know… like in 'Roxanne'."

"Oh- yeah. Community. Alternate timelines and shit."

"Uhhh, sure, whatever that means." Once again Elsa pulled that odd little expression – the one of amused confusion. And then it had vanished because she leaned down once more to fuse their lips together. She broke away for a second to murmur, "Definitely red hot," before returning.

Anna didn't have the will to stop her. It was becoming all to easy to forget that this was her future mother, lying atop her – grinding into her. It was too easy to forget, to pretend that she was just another girl who was sweet and warm and wanted her.

It was an odd feeling, this one of desire and need, that Anna didn't know how to deal with. So she didn't; she just kissed Elsa back with equal passion, needy hips rolling against hers. Putting the worries out of her mind for a moment. She was grateful for her denim jacket and skirt, because they hid the worst of her arousal; protected her from it.

Elsa let out a moan, right into Anna's mouth that sent sparks shooting through her. She didn't know if she was happy or not when Elsa's mouth moved, sliding down her throat. Her hips never stopped moving; in fact, they seemed to speed up.

"Elsa…?"

"Nng… Tori…"

It was blatantly obvious what has happening. Anna had heard that same noise only the night prior, though then they'd had some distance to distract them. Some mild formality of teacher-and-student that didn't exist here. Some part of Anna wanted to draw it out, but it was quickly snuffed out by her more logical side. She shouldn't want to draw it out – she should be able to stop it completely! But it was becoming more and more difficult to remind herself of who this Elsa would become, and rather just think of who she still was.

And at the moment, that was a horny teenager riding her to oblivion in the spare room of a house party. She could sense when Elsa was getting close; it was in the way she panted against Anna's neck, hands scrambling for purchase before their lips realigned. Elsa moaned as their tongues slid together, hands gripping so tight she could almost make Anna bleed.

And then her mother came, tipping over the edge of rationality and into her mind-numbing finish.

Her body shuddered for a long while afterward as they lay there. It was Elsa who had broken the kiss moments afterward, pressing her head into Anna's shoulder for some kind of stability, some kind of support. Her breath was hot and damp in the small space, and Anna could feel her eyelids fluttering, gently scratching at her skin.

Poor Anna could only lie there beneath Elsa, staring up at the ceiling. There was only one thought going through her head: this should not have happened. But then, that same thought had been spiralling since the beginning of the week. Since she'd stupidly interfered with her parents' first meeting.

This really was some fucked up karma.

Elsa squirmed atop her, shifting her body so she was no longer lying completely over Anna; instead, she sat up. Anna could still do little but look at her, eyes wide. Elsa was so beautifully trashed, hair frazzled, complexion a dappled red. Now, her eyes weren't nearly so dark as they stared down at Anna.

Already, the guilt was setting in. Elsa looked like she wanted to run, but was too afraid to move. The space between them was a rubber band, stretched and ready to snap. There was no heat left; only blinding shame.

Space. She needed space, now.

Sitting up, she couldn't voice the gratefulness she felt when Elsa slid back, off her and onto the bed. Anna felt like she had to say something, but wasn't sure what she could say. She couldn't even determine what Elsa was thinking; there was nothing but stony silence and averted gazes. When they did speak, it was Elsa who gave the first choking cough..

"I'm… I'm s-sorry," she said, voice low. "Wasn't… wasn't thinking."

Anna doubted that. She most certainly was thinking – just not from her head. "It's okay," she said. It sounded hollow, even to her own ears. "You're pretty wasted. I know… look, I really don't hold it against you, I… I couldn't. It's okay. But maybe we should, um, should go and rejoin the party. Everyone's probably wondering where the host is."

Elsa seemed unsure, but she also seemed to realise that distance was something Anna needed. So, climbing from the bed, she nodded. "Yeah… probably."

Though Anna wanted to apologise, what could she say? She really didn't think this was a smart plan. And she wanted to kiss Elsa again just to show her that everything was fine, and that she didn't hate her, or think she was a bad person for being a little buzzed and letting her emotions run away with her. Maybe that was a bad idea, but she had to do something.

"I'm really looking forward to the dance, though," she wound up whispering as she stood next to her. They were about even in height now that Elsa was shoeless. "And… I won't pretend I could ever forget this moment. Just so you know."

Of course, she mostly meant it was traumatising and she'd spend years in therapy to figure out how she could ever have let this get so far. But luckily, Elsa took her words at face value. Her smile was soft, and she leaned forward to give Anna a little peck on her cheek.

"Me, too. It's gonna be rad to the max."

As they left, Anna added, "And you keep saying I look hot, but you look even better; that minidress is killer."

"Killer?" Elsa mused with a little chuckle, barely glancing down at her purple outfit. The one that showed evidence of arousal standing at firm attention on her breasts – though thank heavens, it showed nothing else. This time, Anna couldn't help staring for a half-second before she tore her eyes away. "Hmm… I like the sound of that. It's 'killer'." Then she reached down to take up Anna's hand. "Ready when you are."

Anna was more than ready. But as they exited the room and made the way down the hallway, she wondered whether Elsa really was prepared. The closer they got to the living areas, the more tense she seemed to be. She walked slower than usual, and her hand tightened around Anna's.

The moment they moved into the light, Elsa dropped it. She covered the movement quite well, heading towards where Ariel was standing. The redhead was watching Jazz and Al hit it off, and Elsa made a show of gushing about it as soon as she arrived. Anna had been expecting it, and while she knew it shouldn't, it still hurt a little; the fact that Elsa didn't feel comfortable enough to keep holding her hand. But that was how it had to be – for both their sakes.

Shaking away the lingering disappointment, she glanced around. Kristoff was standing where he had been the first time she had come out of the room. He looked like he was still holding the same cup, and if Anna had to guess, he probably had the same drink. She sighed to herself before making her way over to him.

"Hey, man," she said. "What's up?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. The first indication he gave that he was going to speak was simply a nod in Elsa's direction.

"So… I guess the rumours are true?"

Anna froze. Her heart stuttered along for a moment before it too seemed to still in her chest. "Wh-hah, what do you mean?"

He looked away, then pointed to the corner of his lip. A quick look at Elsa confirmed Anna's fear: she was wearing lipstick. A light red shade that was obvious even through the dimmed lights of the house.

A light red shade that was, obviously, evident on Anna's own face. And probably not just her lips, either…

She rubbed at her neck, and the spot Elsa had pressed her face into and kissed within an inch of its life. She had to be careful. The panic rising in her, threatening to send her running for the bathroom, would only get Kristoff to abandon all efforts to get Elsa to date him. There had to be something she could say that would undo the damage done by something as innocuous as beauty products.

"Y-yeah," she laughed. It sounded forced, but at least she got her throat to cooperate. "Apparently, she was a little tipsy, and VERY friendly. But um, I don't think the rumours are something you should worry about."

His nod didn't seem to convey that he agreed with her. "Mmm. I mean, maybe not, but she was definitely a lot closer to you than I've ever seen her with any of the guys at school. But I mean… I am a little surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Anna." His cheeks pinkened a little. "If I wasn't so wrapped up with her, I'd think you had a crush on me."

"WHAT?!" That came out a lot harsher than she meant, so she cleared her throat. "I mean, um… how did you get there from… from anywhere?!"

"Spending all this time trying to help me? Cleaning up my act, trying to make me a winner instead of a wimp? It's like… you really care about me. I've never felt that from any girl before. Elsa, a little, but that's it."

This was too far. Anna needed a breather, and she needed it right away. "As a friend," she managed to tell him firmly as she backed away toward the kitchen, and the door that would lead to the garage. "Just a friend! Okay? But y-yeah, I'm in your corner, compadre."

Only once she was away from the party did she hear how stupid that sounded. Compadre? More like just 'padre'. Somehow, she had managed to walk into 1985 and charm not one, but both of her parents into thinking she was their ideal mate. At least with Kristoff it seemed to be purely because Elsa was unavailable and no other woman caught his eye; at least his future wife remained his first choice…

But what about Elsa? Her needs were much stronger, focused on her future daughter and no one else. Flattered and strangely intrigued as Anna was by the prospect, she had to refocus on the task at hand: getting them to hook up so she could safely return to her own time period and take twelve showers.

                                           To Be Continued…