#there were many strange things about living in iceland but one i remember most clearly was that the wind sounded different

[punkpoemprose]

Single Bells- A Kristanna Oneshot

Rating: G (General Audiences) Universe: Modern AU, Librarian Anna, Single Dad/ Firefighter Kristoff Length: 8239 Words

A/N: Merry (day late) Christmas Val! @val-2201 I’m sorry I got a little bit behind. As per the usual the word count got away from me a bit so I ended up needing a little time to finish, haha. You said you enjoy single parent AUs so I hope you enjoy this little piece about single Dad Kristoff needing to solicit assistance from a very nice red headed librarian!  I hope you had a wonderful holiday and that your New Year will be full of joy!

Anna wasn’t supposed to still be at work, but if there was one thing she couldn’t say no to, it was a kid with a research project. Especially a first grader with beautiful blonde ringlets dragging her frazzled looking father to the information and research desk that Anna had been staffing for the day. Normally she worked only as the children’s librarian, but since two different librarians were out on maternity leave, she’d been willing to shift gears and wear many hats.

They’d come to her desk within the last five minutes of her shift, but Anna hadn’t mentioned it. It was two weeks from the last day of school for the winter holiday, and if her suspicions were correct, the father and daughter were working on a particular project for which she’d assisted four other families in the last few days.

Teachers loved to assign festive work before the holidays, but sometimes she wondered if they really thought through the fact that heavily parent involved projects were sometimes more stress than they were fun. She'd helped quite a few families try to determine what their ancestral traditions had been. Some, she was happy to report, did have legitimate plans to include them in their celebrations after the project conclusion. That at least made her feel like some good was coming out of the stress.

“I have a presentation to do!” the little girl announced with a smile that revealed a missing front tooth.

She was dressed in the brightest green coat she'd ever seen and her little hat, that she'd already pulled away to reveal static filled curls, was made to look like a reindeer. She couldn't help but feel that this was going to be another kid who insisted upon celebrating a newfound tradition. If she was, in fact, working on that project.

Anna grinned in return, noting the child’s enthusiasm for the project she was in the library to work on. She’d said it perhaps a bit too loudly for some of the other librarians’ tastes, but for Anna there was nothing like the boisterousness of young children. She supposed there was a reason that her office and the children’s area in general had been relegated to the basement. Being upstairs still felt strange.

“That’s due tomorrow,” the father said, sounding a bit miserable but looking mostly defeated.

He had a bit of scruff to his chin, and the bags under his eyes told Anna that he probably hadn’t slept well in weeks. It was a common sight with parents around the holidays, exhaustion and uncharacteristic scruffiness. Not that she really knew whether his scruffiness was uncharacteristic, having never seen him before in his life.

“Uh oh!” Anna said, directing her attention at the child rather than the father, knowing that she was much better at working with kids than adults, “We’ve got to work fast then, huh? What’s the presentation about?”

The little girl nodded, “It’s about Christmas traditions! I told Daddy on Monday that we needed to do it, but he forgot.”

When Anna looked toward the father out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flush. It was Thursday, so she imagined that they’d had some time to complete it. She wouldn’t judge him for the timing of course, she barely could keep herself on a schedule somedays, let alone a six-year-old. She also made a conscious effort to not judge any of her patrons, even the ones who came in asking about unique topics.

She’d once had a woman come in asking for an entire book on just Guinea pig costumes, and she wasn’t sure whether she should be more concerned for her guinea pig or that the library system had not one, but six books on guinea pig costuming. Last minute project fell somewhere toward the bottom of the judgement list.

“I didn’t forget,” the dad said, sounding very tired, but not particularly upset, “I’ve just been busy, and I didn’t realize it was Thursday.”

Anna smiled and then looked at the dad, “It happens to all of us. Can you two narrow down the kind of Christmas traditions you’re looking for?”

The dad looked embarrassed again.

“She needs to pick a specific country to look up traditions from and she wants to pick the one my family’s from.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Anna said with a nod, “Where is your family from, and we’ll go from there!”

“That’s kind of the problem,” the man said with a sigh, “I don’t know.”

***

They were in the children’s area, on one of the library’s iPads at one of the kid sized tables. The little girl, Ivy, was in her glory. She’d spent more time commenting on the posters on the walls and snowflakes on the ceiling than she had focusing on the task at hand, but Anna didn’t really mind. It was easy enough for her to hold a conversation with both the girl and her father as she searched for clues about the man’s heritage. Really all they had to go on was his last name.

  Bjorgman. Kristoff Bjorgman.

“I think that my parents were maybe immigrants. I was adopted when I was just a little older than Ivy, but I’d been in the system since I was maybe two or three? I don’t remember them, and I was never given any records. My birth certificate was created when I entered the system, so it doesn’t have either of their names on it. Just mine, and that was just because it had been pinned to my shirt when someone dropped me off.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel as though that was terribly sad, but the man, Kristoff, and his daughter didn’t seem phased by it. It was just another detail of life for them she supposed, but she couldn’t imagine not remembering her parents. All she had of them now was memories, and a few knick-knacks that had managed to be saved after the house fire.

She tried not to think about that though, and it was easy enough to direct her attention back to the man sitting across from her.

He was much too large for the table, and he made the child’s chair he sat in look comically small. He was handsome, and by Anna’s estimation, not much older than she was. He was maybe 26, tops, and she couldn’t imagine having a kid of her own.

“Your adoptive parents don’t know anything?”

He shook his head, “No more than I do. The information just doesn’t exist I guess.”

“She didn’t want to do her Mom’s family’s traditions?” she asked, fishing only a little bit. 

She thought that maybe given the level of flustered he seemed to be exuding might be indicative of him being a single dad. She hoped not on the one hand because that was such a difficult position to be in, but also he was the first cute dad she’d run into that wasn’t significantly older than her. So she wanted to make sure if she was ogling him in the chair it was something that she could do with a clear conscience.  

“No, and even if she did, we don’t really know anything about hers either. She’s passed on. It’s just us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.”

He looked over at his daughter then, smiling at her softly as she pushed her little chair back and walked over to the bookshelf to grab something out of the easy reader bin. She’d looked bored for a little while and was now clearly determining that this was grown up work that she didn’t want anything to do with and therefore was free to explore.

Anna couldn’t help but grin when she saw her pluck out a Mercy Watson book. She loved those. She must be reading a little beyond her age group to be reading it for fun.

Turning her attention back to the ipad, and away from the little girl who was eagerly plopping herself into a beanbag, she looked at the search results she pulled up with his last name. The information on the screen was pretty much what they already knew. His first and last name were Nordic of some kind.

“So we’re looking at Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, or Iceland. We can make an educated guess based on where you lived when you were a kid based on the census data from that area as most immigrant families move to areas with other people from the same country, or where there’s a strong presence of the culture they’re familiar with.”

“Well… I was born here, I think. Or at least this is where I got put into the system, which is why I moved back here a few years back.”

 Anna lit up, she didn’t have to do any more searching. Any vaguely Nordic last name in their town generally meant one thing.

“I can say then, with 90% certainty, you’re Norwegian. Not that it helps right now, but have you ever thought about taking a DNA test? Kids tend to just have more heritage questions as they get older and if you both take one it can help with any genealogy research."

"That's a lot of certainty for just a last name and a town," he said, looking surprised as he met her eye.

"Oh, well I mean Arendale was named for the Arendelle family and was founded by Norwegian immigrants so most of the population is descended from Norwegian families. Most immigrant families from Norway still settle here when they come over from the states. I mean there’s a little Norway downtown." 

"Oh," he said, "You just knew that? I guess it's probably something that comes up often…"

"Yes, but well also I'm an Arendelle. It's been drilled into me since I was born. We turned the family manor into a museum a few years ago. I used to give tours when I was in my master's program."

"That's…"

"Extremely boring,” she interrupted, not wanting him to trouble himself to find something nice to say, “Except on field trip days. Which is how I decided working with kids was for me. Adults, eh. No offense of course."

"None taken,” he replied, grinning, “Why do you work at the research desk then?"

"I'm actually a children's librarian," she said happily, glancing over at his daughter who had looked up over her book at them with interest as they talked about information valuable to her project again. Anna motioned with her hands like she was opening a book and then gave her a thumbs up which the girl returned with a grin.

"I'm just helping out because a few of the librarians are out on maternity. If you want to see what I usually do you should come for my ornament making sessions. I'm doing them every day after school and then in the mornings on the weekends until the day before Christmas Eve."

He looked almost impressed.

"Daddy! We have to!"

"Now she's tuning in," he said with a sort of shy smile that was quickly accompanied by a shrug. "Come here sweetheart, you have to pick a tradition. We're pretty sure I'm Norwegian."

"And I know so many traditions!" Anna told the girl brightly, "we don't even have to search!"

“Hooray!” she said with a grin, carefully sliding the book’s ribbon bookmark into the page she had marked with her thumb before running over to where her father was seated.

She crawled up on his lap, book still in hand.

“Can we pick one that talks about food?”

He laughed and as he tucked the little curly head under his chin he mouthed, ‘bottomless pit’.

Anna couldn’t help but feel that before she left for the evening, she’d be processing a minor and adult card sign up and checking out a Mercy Watson book and perhaps even a Norwegian cookbook.

“No! Wait! One about ornaments! I love ornaments!”

Maybe, she thought, a craft book too.

The dad rolled his eyes playfully from up above where his daughter could see and Anna did her best to stifle a giggle. These were the moments where she loved her job most.

***

They'd come for her craft time the next day, and Ivy had told her how well she'd done at her presentation and how she'd been proud to already know a bunch of the other Norwegian traditions other kids had shared.

Now though she was busying herself with playing with the other kids, the usuals that Anna had introduced to her by name.

Her blonde head was bobbing along in a conversation as the kids built a large block tower together, and she could see her dark little eyes gleaming with mischief as they discussed knocking it down when they were all done. Anna had never in her life been more grateful that they had foam instead of wooden blocks.

“She looks just like you."

Her hair was just a little lighter than his, and her eyes a little darker, but there was something in her features, her expressions that was an identical copy to her fathers. Even only having met them the day before, she could tell that she definitely took after him.

“I hear that a lot, and it’s funny… Not like really funny, I mean, it’s just interesting because Ivy’s not mine,” he said quietly as the little girl played with the other children.

Most of the other parents had been content to talk amongst themselves. They were regulars and they were comfortable together, being mostly moms. Anna noticed that they were occasionally glancing back and forth between the two of them surreptitiously. Or at least as close to sneaky as a group of nosy 30-something women could be.

“I usually don’t tell people that. I don’t know why I told you that.”

“It’s par for the course for librarians. We’re like bartenders, just with books,” She replied a bit too quickly.

He looked down at his feet for a moment then met Anna’s eye again, smiling a bit nervously, like he’d worked something out in his head, and then took a deep breath.

“I mean legally speaking she is mine, just so you don’t think I stole a kid. After her mother died, I adopted her. Genetically she’s got another Dad out there somewhere, but her mom, Evelyn, she never mentioned him. I don’t think he was ever involved.”

“Oh,” Anna said, feeling her face grow hot at the misconception, “I’m sorry. So Evelyn was your…?”

She knew she was probably just digging herself a deeper hole, but she felt a warmth flutter to life in her heart. He’d mentioned before that Ivy’s mom had passed on, but she’d assumed that he was her biological father and that was why she called him Dad. That he’d been adopted, and then he’d adopted a child after meant a lot. That made her realize that her interest in him, regardless of how new and how impossible, was rooted in more than looks.

“Neighbor,” he said quickly, like he was afraid of her saying anything else.

She stared at him, surprised by the answer, watching him blush under her gaze.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people thinking we were… you know, together. She was just… she was so young. I wouldn’t have been with her like that, she was just a neighbor and a friend. I think she had a rough life. She didn’t talk about it much, but when she moved in next door to me she was working a bunch of odd jobs with crazy hours and Ivy was two. Evie was eighteen. I think her parents might have kicked them out or something, so I would watch Ivy on my days off because Evie didn’t have anyone and it was just me and my dog anyway, so I had plenty of free time."

He took a breath. Before Anna could find the words to say, he kind of sighed and shrugged, deciding to say more. Anna just focused on his eyes while he talked. There was a deep love there and she could tell it was for Ivy.

"I started taking extra days off here and there with my vacation time because Evelyn started to not feel well and she would go to the clinic a lot. Sometimes she would wait for hours for someone to tell her she was stressed or whatever. When they found out it was cancer it was too late. It was less than a year before she was gone. When no family came forward for Ivy, I did. She was three then. I’m the only dad she knows. The only parent she knows really. I didn’t have many pictures of her mom, because she was my neighbor and I didn’t think to take some when we found out she was sick, but we talk about her.”

Anna thought she might cry.

She was no stranger to loss, but she’d never heard of anyone doing anything like that before. She tried to step up for strangers and community members a little but each day. She donated to charity and worked with the economically disadvantaged, but she’d never changed her life forever just to help someone else. She’d never been able to see herself stepping up that far.

“You adopted your neighbor’s kid.”

She let her eyes tear up, her throat felt tight.

She could certainly see that beneath the sort of gruff exterior he first offered, there was a kindness that ran through him. She could see it now, as she had before when he’d been focusing on helping his daughter. He had a lot of love in him, and it was obvious when he glanced back over to where Ivy was playing and smiled.

 “Well I fostered her first, but yeah. I mean my parents did it for me, and I guess I didn’t want to roll the dice and hope that someone else would be as kind when I had the means… at least financially. I’m three years in and still working out the rest. I just feel lucky everyday they let me adopt her with my work schedule and everything.”

“I think,” she said quietly, trying not to cry, “I think most parents are. Even the ones who’ve had their kids from the start.”

“Thank you for saying that. I don’t know many other parents, so it’s always a guessing game about whether I’m doing the right thing.”

 He looked back from Ivy and caught a glimpse of Anna’s expression. She saw him frown and look genuinely concerned. She wanted to tell him not to worry, but he found the words quicker than she did.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, sorry. I’m not great with people.”

He held a hand out to her, paused for a moment like he was wondering what he should do, and then rubbed the back of his neck with it.

Anna shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, giving the moms staring at her openly her best and most polite look of “it’s fine, but also mind your own business”. They seemed to get the picture well enough, returning to their own conversations with only a mildly mischievous and conspiratorial gaze at each other. Anna was sure she’d have plenty of texts later from the library mom chat asking what she and the “hot dad” had been talking about.

“No, you’re fine. I’m kind of an emotional person. I’m just happy for you two. She loves you so much, I can tell. She deserves to have someone who loves her just as much.”

He smiled softly and then nodded, putting his hand back down at his side and appearing to relax slightly now that the topic was back to just Ivy. He still looked as tired as he had the day before, especially now after she’d accidentally worried him.

“She’s a special kid. She’s not like me very much, even though I’m raising her. She’s so optimistic and brave and sort of stubborn… which I suppose she could have gotten from me, but really she’s great and I’ve been so lucky to have her."

Anna nodded in return, wiping the tears away on her sleeve.

“Yeah, I can see that. And I don’t mean to pry but… you look a little tired. I hope she didn’t make you pull an all-nighter on that project.”

He sort of chuckled at her lame joke, and she appreciated the attempt at acceptance of her levity. She was never particularly good at intentional humor. Most people just laughed when she accidentally tripped over something or had chocolate on her face and didn’t notice.

“No, no all-nighter. I’m just exhausted.”

“I hear parenting does that to a person.”

He nodded and then sighed, giving her a sort of nervous look before looking beyond her to Ivy.

"I don't mean to tell you my life story. Even though, I kind of already did, but… I just feel bad when I can’t give her the world, you know? Like, I finally wanted to do a big at home Christmas for her this year. We were going to go home to see my family like usual, but my Dad just had some pretty serious back surgery and even though he loves the kids my sisters and I agreed not to flood the house while he’s recovering.”

She nodded along some more, knowing that he probably didn’t have anyone to vent this sort of thing to. She wasn’t a parent herself, but working with so many young children meant that she talked with plenty of parents, and she at least comprehended a bit of what it was like. She couldn’t pretend to understand fully, but she didn’t mind listening to parents when they needed to breathe. She particularly didn’t mind listening to Kristoff.

He looked back at her with a sort of exasperation that she was familiar with. He looked like he’d just run a marathon in his head. He looked like her after inventory day.

“You know I never realized how much my mom did for us for the holidays, you know? It’s one more week of school, and then I have to find a babysitter for the days I’m not off during her winter vacation. I barely managed to negotiate for Christmas off at the firehouse as it is, let alone to find all that time. The guys are great and sometimes I can bring her to work if I don’t have anyone to watch her because someone usually stays behind or one of the guys will have their wife or older kid there for a visit, but around the holidays… there’s a lot of fires you know. Not really a place to bring a kid. I have shopping to do, wrapping, we have to get a real tree because she really wants one, and then there’s cookies to bake, and God I’m just glad she hasn’t asked about those elf things because I don’t think I could pull that off too.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“It is, and that’s not even the half of it. We have to get a wreath to bring to her mother’s grave, and it’s so hard to find in the snow because it’s just a small grave marker so it’s really a whole day affair. I don’t mind, but I don’t want to run out of time to do everything else. She wants to go caroling and see santa and make ornaments… which thanks for this by the way, it was nice. She’s very proud of her star. It’s just with work and everything it feels like there’s not enough time.”

Anna nodded. It was a common concern with the other parents, but most of them had more hands to help, less work, and more practice at it.

“I can help.”

She didn’t think before she spoke. She was absolutely shocked by her own words even as she said them. They were practically strangers, and he was venting about his difficulties as a single dad while she was trying not to notice how perfectly chocolate brown his eyes were, or how easy it would be to imagine him in a firefighter’s calendar. Or rather, trying not to let herself wonder whether AFD had plans to put out a firefighter’s calendar this year.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You weren’t,” she said, watching as some of the moms began to get their kids ready to leave, knowing her window of opportunity to get her thoughts out was closing by the moment, “I offered. I’m great at wrapping and I love to shop. If you’re looking for help I’m happy to give it.”

He looked at her for a long moment, until Ivy ran over and pulled on his pant leg.

“Daddy,” she said, “Can I have some candy? Danny’s mom brought candy canes and she said I had to ask you first.”

He looked to Anna for a moment, and she understood the concern in his eyes.

“Oh, you mean Mrs. James! She’s so nice. She brings candy for us all the time. She’s been bringing Danny here for storytime and crafts since he was just a little baby.”

She could understand his concern. She was always a little worried herself when the parents brought things to share, especially if the parents were fairly new. It was one of those fears that was mostly irrational, but one really never knew.

He looked back to his daughter and gave her a stunning smile that made Anna melt on the spot.

“Yeah sweetheart that would be fine. Please and thank you, right?”

“Always!” she said, running off in the direction of Danny’s mom who was waiting with a cheeky smile, staring again at Anna and offering her a wink.

“Were you serious?” Kristoff asked, breaking her concentration as she tried to give Mrs. James a ‘please don’t interfere’ look in return.

Not that it would do her any good.

“About Mrs. James? Of course. I’d never encourage anyone’s kid to take candy from a stranger I couldn’t personally vouch for.”

“No, I…” he was flushed again and Anna realized that she’d missed a point. She was making him ask her, just like she’d said he didn’t have to.

“I meant about the help.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I meant it! I love the holidays and I’ve been working a little more than usual but I still have plenty of time.”

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t mind? I’d hate to take time away that you could be spending together around the holidays.”

“I… I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She was almost certain that there was a look of interest in his eye when she said it, but as quick as it was there, it was gone.

Maybe, she thought, she wasn’t the only one interested.

“Then I’d love the help,” he said with a nod, “For Ivy’s sake.”

***

Anna wasn’t sure she’d ever enjoyed anything so much as she did being Kristoff’s personal Christmas elf. She’d given him her mother’s family recipe for Norwegian butter cookies, an answer to Ivy's now rampant desire to learn about those traditions, and she’d picked up stocking stuffers and amazon packages and bits of this and that. She’d wrapped gifts and brought them to the fire station for safe keeping. Somehow, she’d managed to mostly do so when Kristoff was out on a call, or when he wasn’t working at all.

It was unfortunate as she wanted to see him, so she was pleasantly surprised when five days before Christmas she’d received a text message from Kristoff inviting her to help him and Ivy go tree shopping. She’d seen them at two separate decoration making events before it, so she supposed that it was only right for her to help them select the canvas on which to display Ivy’s beautiful work.

Ivy had, of course, been on a mission during the trip.

“Color, smell, and needle retention,” she’d said in her little, but very certain voice.

Anna had later learned that she didn’t actually know the meaning of the word retention, and that she’d learned her tree picking skills from a YouTube video, but she had been nevertheless impressed.

She’d helped Ivy pick, and then she’d helped, with mixed results, to strap the six-foot tree to Kristoff’s car. He’d mostly brought it inside his apartment himself, but when Anna had turned to leave, Ivy had caught her hand, and Kristoff had shyly offered her some hot chocolate. They'd sung Christmas carols, lead by Ivy and decorated the tree together with some ornaments that his friends from the firehouse had given them and the ones that Ivy had made herself. Anna wished she had her old childhood ornaments. Ivy, she knew, would have loved one.

The rest of the week passed much the same until, two days before Christmas, Anna found herself finishing her last ornament and story session with the kids before the holiday. It was a bittersweet thing, being swept up in the excitement of children looking forward to Christmas but knowing that she wouldn’t see them again for a while after.

Ivy, who had been in attendance, was busy playing with her new friends, and Kristoff, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Anna for the whole session, was speaking with her again.

Anna couldn’t help but note how quickly they were getting to know each other. She couldn’t help but blame the holiday in part. Not only was she doing more story and craft sessions in the evenings than she normally would, but she’d also been helping him make the holidays for Ivy. She supposed it was inevitable that they would talk, and in their conversations get to know each other a bit better.

The topic of conversation now, was a wrapping accident on one of Ivy’s “little” presents, a slime kit. It was from Santa, but Anna had accidentally wrapped it in the paper she’d set aside to wrap gifts from Kristoff in. The tag though, still said “from Santa”.

“So you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said quietly, low enough that they kids couldn’t hear her, “I know some kinds are just really perceptive, so I don’t want her to see that dad and santa have the same paper and realize what happened.”

“If she notices I’m just going to tell her that Santa accidentally ripped the wrapping paper coming down the chimney and had to rewrap it in some of my paper to keep it a secret until Christmas morning.”

She nodded. It was a brilliant plan.

“That’s so smart,” she was thoroughly awed, “I come up with a lot of little fibs around the holidays to keep the magic for the kiddos, but that one’s just genius.”

He laughed and shook his head, “Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.”

“You really should give yourself more credit.”

His smile softened then, “As should you. I can’t believe that you just offered to help a stranger put Christmas on for their kid and then actually followed through with it.”

“Need I remind you that you adopted a neighbor’s child without hesitation? What I did was nothing in comparison.”

He was close to her and stepping closer. She could practically feel the eyes of the moms as they lingered in the room, just to see what was going to happen. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and she felt herself flushing at the thought of kissing him, even though she told herself that they couldn’t, that it wasn’t going to happen. His previous stubble, the ball he’d had to drop to keep his daughter on schedule was now even more pronounced, but in an intentional sort of way. She could imagine how it would scratch against her.

“I wouldn’t call that nothing,” he said quiet, so low that she could barely hear it. “To us, it’s everything. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

She focused for a moment on breathing as she’d realized that she’d been holding her breath ever since he leaned in. It was easy, she thought, to let him take her breath away.

And then the giggling and “goodbyes” of children broke Anna’s focus, and she turned her head to see moms giving her subtle thumbs up, and kids donning coats.

Ivy was skipping towards them, candy cane in one hand and her popsicle stick star in the other. Glitter was flaking off the craft as she bounced towards them, and Anna knew she’d be spending at least the next hour vacuuming. She almost felt bad for the parents who were about to have their houses covered in poorly glued sequins, glitter and foamies.

Almost.

“Ms. Anna!” the little girl said with great excitement, “What are you going to do for Christmas?”

The question caught Anna off guard. The kids had asked her before, but it had never felt like a big deal to tell them the truth. Kids understood more than adults most of the time, and they felt things stronger and they were more open with it, so Anna was more open with them. With Ivy and Kristoff though, just having gotten to know them, and having all sorts of confusing feelings in her chest for him, she wasn’t sure she could take the pitying eyes.

“Well hon,” she said quietly, waving to the other parents and kids as they drifted out as both a politeness and a distraction, “I’m not doing anything. My sister is my only family and she lives far far away.”

“Oh,” the little girl said, looking sad.

Anna couldn’t look at Kristoff, but she could tell he was giving his daughter the soft but chiding look he’d given her a few times in the two weeks she’d known them. The look that said he wasn’t mad at her, but that she’d said too much or her manners were lacking. She thought it was a nice way to remind kids of their behavior and had filed it away for her own use.

“Like Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Yeah,” Anna said in response, “But it’s okay, I’m used to being by myself. I’ll read a book and make myself dinner.”

She knew she didn’t sound particularly believable. She wasn’t even buying it herself. Truth be told her whole apartment was decorated for Christmas, complete with a tree, and she always made herself sad around the holidays thinking about how she’d had so much fun as a kid, but now spent them alone. She always thought that there was an unfairness in showing that to a child though, in showing them that the holiday was anything but magical for some people, so she tried to keep a stiff upper lip.

“That’s okay Ms. Anna,” the little girl said, grinning broadly at her with little tears sparkling in her dark eyes, and stepping close to grab her hand, “You can have Christmas at our house!”

She felt like crying again.

“Oh Ivy that’s so sweet,” she said, her throat feeling tight, “But it’s your family Christmas. You don’t want a stranger there.”

 “You’re not a stranger,” Kristoff said softly, reaching for Ivy’s other hand and giving it a soft squeeze that made the little girl’s smile brighten.

She seemed glad for her dad’s backup.

Anna forced herself to meet his eye, and she found in it a sort of shyness. He looked at her like he was uncertain, but also like he was excited by the prospect. She noted the twinkle in his eyes despite his furrowed brow, the gentle upturn of his lips as he looked at her for an answer.

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be. Ivy invited you as her guest. I’d… I’d also like you to come as my guest if you don’t mind. I know you’ve only known us for two weeks, but I think we’d both really like it if you came. Right sweetheart?”

Ivy squeezed Anna’s hand tightly and then nodded, bouncing a bit on her heels as she did so like her whole body was agreeing with her dad.

“Well then,” Anna said quietly, “How can I refuse?”

***

Her arms were full of presents and chocolates when she came to his door, so she had to tap the wood twice with the toe of her boot to knock. She’d been battling herself the entire drive over, trying to decide whether this was the right thing to do and whether she should really be feeling as giddy about the whole thing as she was.

She was basically crashing someone else’s holiday, and she knew that she should feel bad about taking them up on an offer made out of kindness and sympathy, but she didn’t. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Ivy and wanted to help make Christmas a little more special for her this year. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Kristoff and even the idea of pretending for a few hours that he felt the same made her heart flutter.

She’d never fallen for a patron before. Nor had she ever been so sure that she loved someone so quickly. She’d had bad luck in the past with similar feelings, but this time she had faith in the rightness of the feelings and the positivity of the situation. Kristoff Bjorgman was a good man, and whether anything more came from it, she was happy to be his friend and to share his Christmas.

She thought maybe if she could have written a letter to Santa though, she would have maybe wished for more. If it wasn’t too much to ask.

She hadn’t so much as put her foot down after tapping the door than Ivy opened the door and ushered her in. Kristoff was watching from just a few feet back, letting her know with a smile that Ivy had been so excited to open the door that she’d been waiting for the knock. She wondered if she’d been waiting for her since she called to let them know she was arriving.

“I waited to open my presents from Santa until you got here Ms. Anna,” the little girl said with zeal, “I wanted you to see!”

Kristoff stepped forward then, helping Anna with her parcels while telling her quietly that she hadn’t needed to bring them. He whispered into her ear about how excited Ivy had been about Santa and how she’d been even more excited to wait for Ms. Anna.

She thought that her heart might pound out of her chest. Less at the thought that Ivy had wanted to wait for her, and more at the fact that Kristoff hadn’t told her not to. That he’d just whispered in her ear, and that he was making it extremely evident that he wanted her there from the very start.

“Ivy that’s so sweet. I can’t wait to see what Santa brought you!”

“I hope I got a Pokémon stuffy!” she said excitedly, running towards the tree that they’d decorated together.

It felt strangely domestic, like she belonged there because her touch was in the tree. Like she was family, and not just a new friend they’d invited to share their holiday.

“You know what?” Anna asked, feigning ignorance, “I don’t know if he did, but I’m sure you’ve been so good this year that you deserve it.”

Kristoff raised a brow at her, and Anna got the message. “Good cover.”

In fact she knew that Ivy had two Pokémon plushies under the tree, one from Santa, one from her Dad, and Anna also knew that there was one more in the box Kristoff had taken from her labeled with the little girls name and Anna’s own.

Being an elf had its perks.

“But first… if you don’t mind, I have a couple special gifts for you two to open.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Kristoff said, giving her a soft, but appreciative look that she knew she would treasure in her memories for as long as she lived.

She knew that she didn’t have to. But they didn’t have to share their Christmas with her either.

And also, she’d already fallen in love a little bit with them both, and she knew that for now presents were a good way to demonstrate that.

“I have a special present for you too Ms. Anna!”

“You do?”

“Yes!”

She looked over at Kristoff, who looked almost as surprised as she did.

“You mean the one we got her at the store yesterday sweetheart?”

“Nope! A special one! I made it, Mrs. James told me how!”

“Huh,” he said with a shrug, “I guess I’ll be as surprised as Ms. Anna then.”

“Would you mind if I gave you yours first?” Anna asked, excited to know what Ivy had made her, but more excited to give the little girl and her father the special gifts she’d gotten them first.

“Okay!” she said excitedly and ran into the apartment proper as Kristoff and Anna managed the process of her removing her outerwear, hanging it up, and him helping her bring in the gifts and treats.

Once Ivy and Kristoff had settled themselves on the small loveseat near the tree, and Anna had brought them their gifts, she settled into the well worn high back chair that served as the only other Livingroom seating.

“Okay. I have some other presents for you guys too, but these are the most important ones, so I want you to open them first, alright?”

Ivy was already tearing into the paper on the box. Not needing to be told twice.

She held up a little soft ornament, and then held it to her chest.

“It’s Mama,” she said in the quietest littlest voice she had ever heard her manage, and Kristoff quickly looked between Anna and the ornament.

It had been easy enough really, to look up Evelyn Taylor. She had a Facebook before she passed, and some friends on the page who mostly lived out of state. There wasn’t much that Anna could find on the page without sending a friend request that she knew, sadly, would never be answered, but there were a handful of photos that she had access to. One of her and Ivy, confirming that she had the right Evelyn Taylor in the first place. The little girl had been two or so at the time the picture had been taken, but her little face had even been then, so strikingly like Kristoff’s. Evelyn even looked a bit like him she thought, like a cousin. The others she’d found included some pictures of the girl with high school friends, a few shots of her looking brave in photos where she’d moved into her apartment, a photo or two of her without hair when she’d been going through chemo.

Anna had gotten them all printed, every single one she could find, and put them in a small box that was under the ornament. The ornament had been a last-minute project. She’d run to the store and picked up printable iron on paper and felt. She printed the photo of Ivy and her mother onto it, ironed it onto the felt, and did her best to channel her mother’s creativity to make a small Scandinavian style embroidered felt plush ornament. It was shaped like a heart, and on one side she’d managed to layer on felt and little stitched snowflakes, while the other held the image on white felt.

She felt a bit bad, of course, about not asking Kristoff if it was okay first, but she thought that the soft look he was giving her may be proof that sometimes it’s better to try for the surprise.

“How…?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said before Ivy could even get to the box below, “You still have a box to open.”

He looked between her and Ivy for a long moment, like he wanted to say something else as the little girl was excitedly hugging her little ornament, but ultimately, he looked down at his own gift.

“Go on,” she said, eager to see if her surprise gift for him would be met with such excitement.

He opened his gift with less speed, but with equal interest.

She held her breath as he pulled out a small box and a small book.

“Is this… is this a DNA test?”

She felt tension return to her body. He didn’t sound upset really, just surprised, and she hoped that she hadn’t just crossed a line.

“I mean… it’s just… you know, if you ever want to. They’re expensive usually so a lot of people don’t do them, but my sister is in business and she happened to know a guy who knew a guy so I was able to get it for you for nothing. So it’s just if you want to dig in and do some research. You know because I’m a librarian and all. One track mind.”

“Anna…”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just thought…”

“Anna.”

She looked at him and saw he was smiling, a little bit teary eyed.

“Anna, thank you. I was going to buy one after the holidays. That project Ivy did… it made me realize that I want to know where I came from.”

“Oh… good. I’m…” she sighed, letting the tension leave her, “I’m glad, because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smiled, and then looked at the book.

“But… uh, what’s Hygge?”

She laughed at that, feeling happy in a way she hadn’t ever remembered feeling outside of work, and she saw Ivy smiling brightly too, hopping down from the couch to go grab something from under the tree.

“Hygge is a Norwegian and Danish concept… it’s just, you know, since I hope you’re Norwegian like me. Hygge is just that cozy mood that we can’t put into words. I think you feel a lot of hygge when you get a moment to breathe when you’re with Ivy, and I thought you’d like the book. There’s another one I ordered you too, but it won’t come in for a while. It’s all Norwegian fairytales. I thought you might like to read them together.”

He grinned broadly and stood from the couch, walking over to her and taking her hand, “Anna this is…”

But Ivy cut him off before he could finish.

“Ms. Anna! I have your present, are you ready?”

“Of course! I’m so excited,” she said, giving Kristoff an apologetic smile and turning her attention towards the child who was holding something behind her back.

The little girl grinned in response and held up a picture she’d drawn in crayon. There were little green leaves and little white berries. It was immediately obvious to Anna what it was meant to be, and depending on how things turned out, she was either going to ban Mrs. James from the library, or send her a fruit basket.

“Is that?” Kristoff started.

“Mistletoe.” Anna finished.

She felt her face go hot, but then when she looked over at Kristoff, his hand still in hers, she saw him clearly doing some internal negotiating.

“May I… may we?” He asked.

“It is a tradition,” she said quietly, looking over at the little girl and giving her a bright, if not a bit embarrassed smile to let her know that she did in fact, love the drawing.

And before she could say anything else he was helping her off the chair and into his arms. She giggled when he kissed her, his stubble, now an almost beard tickling her skin.

Ivy, ever the encouraging an delighted audience, was jumping up and down.

“Santa must have gotten the letter I hid under the cookie plate last night!” she said delighted, “I knew Daddy liked Ms. Anna!”

Kristoff, ended the kiss a bit abruptly to look over to his daughter, a deep blush on his cheeks that Anna was sure was mirrored in her own.

He didn’t release her though, still holding her close, his touch tender but firm.

“Santa didn’t get a letter under the cookie plate last night,” he whispered low into Anna’s ear as Ivy took back off toward the tree, leaving her drawing on Anna’s chair.

Anna couldn’t help but giggle at his bewilderment. She thought that it was most likely that Ivy had simply dreamed writing the letter. Some kids her age had a hard time remembering what they had and hadn’t done when they woke in the morning.

“Well either the big man is more real than we thought, or Mrs. James has more connections than I thought. Or you know, she just dreamt the whole thing.”

He grinned broadly.

“Well someone must have gotten my letter too,” he said, a little louder, “Because Ivy is right. I do like you. I know it’s fast but…”

“I like you too Kristoff,” she said quietly, “And we can take this slower from here, but for now…”

He leaned in again, kissing her gently. She let her hand slide up, her palm cradling his stubbled cheek.

When they broke the kiss, they rested their foreheads together, the sound of tearing paper and Ivy’s excited cheering behind them.

“Merry Christmas Kristoff.”

“Merry Christmas Anna.”

She’d never been so grateful for a reference desk query in her life.

[arthurjdrake]

For Keeps : Alain & Arthur

Summary: A phoenix and a hunter go into a bar. (aka Amelie and I somehow never posted a doc we wrote like 3 months ago don’t judge us) >_> Parties: Arthur and @carbrakes-and-stakes

Recent events had come to show that sometimes meeting new people (Leah especially) didn’t always go terribly, and the little he’d experienced of Alain so far from their online conversations gave Arthur a strangely positive vibe. He couldn’t say what it was, but shared interests were certainly a scene setter for an interesting afternoon over beer if nothing else. Though it transpired with recent revelations that his interest in Alain was further vested in gauging just what sort of person he was and just what Evelyn saw in him that made her interested in being with him. Call it protective curiosity. The Perfect Pint was a decent enough establishment and one he frequented if only for the full plate of good food and Guinness they had on tap. A sizeable establishment with light filtering through slightly grimy windows, it smelled like an ashtray but was relatively clean by most pubs standards. Not to mention the presence of several dart boards and snooker tables for patrons to use if they so pleased. Wooden stools lined up against the bar resembled careless soldiers. Two were occupied and Arthur was five minutes early. So he leaned on the darkwood bar, occasionally sipping a cool pint of Guinness while watching the highlights scrolling on the screen and wincing at a particularly nasty tackle.

Alain pushed the door to The Perfect Pint expecting to have a peaceful moment for once. No hunting, no arguing, not questioning everything. Just chatting with someone with common interests and seeing where that led. Not going to the Silver Bullet for once would also be a nice change. It must have been months since he last went to a normal bar. Being greeted by the sound of football matches and people playing pool was a nice change, and it reminded Alain of the few weeks he had spent in Europe a couple years ago. Now he did not care much for the smell of cigarettes, but if this was all he could complain about, then he would not complain at all. Recognizing some customers as he made his way to the counter, he nodded politely and took a seat with the man he figured would be Arthur. If not, then things would probably get awkward really quick. “Bonjour,” he greeted him, figuring that would be enough of a tell. The bartender approaching, he ordered himself a pint of Amber Ale and turned his attention back to Arthur. “I hope I’m not late.”

There weren’t too many people in town Arthur felt he could go down to the pub to simply have a drink with, he was woefully short on friends who weren’t so studiously academic that it was kind of funny to imagine them in a setting like this. Plus, it reminded him of home in an inexplicable way. From the smell to the darkwood features of the pub, like his local back in Twickenham. Occasionally he glanced at his wrist-watch checking and rechecking the time, the smooth carved wood of its casing a familiar comfort in its proximity. As a figure approached and sat down beside him he turned, body-language relaxed and comfortable, an amicable smile warming his features upon hearing the French. “Salut,” he greeted with a small dip of his head, taking a moment to just study Alain, taking in the years around his eyes and features, the stubborn lingering grease around his fingernails and a missing finger as well. Interesting. Arthur vaguely remembered him saying he was a mechanic in a past conversation. A bit rough around the edges but he could see the appeal though it was the personality he was more intrigued to learn more about. “Not at all,” he laughed quietly at the sentiment with a shake of his head “no, I’m just partial to being early.” He let Alain order before he leaned back a little, “so you own the garage in town right? How’s business been going for you lately?”

If Alain could feel like he was being scrutinized, he didn’t mention it to Arthur, and instead, pretended to look just about anywhere else. He had never been here, so this gave him a good enough excuse not to be attentive. “Is it really how pubs look in the UK?” The place looked like a postcard, and a whole lot like pubs that claimed to be authentic, and he couldn’t quite decide if it was really close to the actual thing or a caricature. Clearly, the mime places weren’t as authentic as they claimed to be, so maybe this was the case here as well. He rubbed at the corner of his eye with one finger and thanked the bartender as he came back with his drink. “Do you actually speak French or…” either way, there would be no hard feelings, but once again, he was curious, which was a good indicator : a bored Alain did not ask questions and hardly spoke. Taking a sip from his pint, he leaned back a little in the seat and nodded in reply to Arthur’s question. “Business is doing alright. I’ve had a few good months with the falling fish. Lots of shattered windshields, lots of intensive cleaning too,” scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged. With the big lobsters, a bunch of cars had been roughly damaged, and considering he had to spend some time off work, all those events had helped keeping the cash coming. “What about you. You’re a teacher, right?”

“It’s not a bad imitation of one considering they even have an old geezer eating roasted peanuts” Arthur admitted eyeing another patron at one of the tables in the corner. “Plus this is the only place I can actually catch games when they’re on, even if it is at like one AM… Granted it’s worth staying up if only for the Irish breakfast.” The question was met with a nod, “I speak a little to pass conversation. I’m kinda rusty and the amount of exceptions to all the tenses always catches me in one place or another…” He shrugged a shoulder taking a sip of his beer “personally, I think it’s important especially if you’re going to live somewhere for a while you know? Too many people just expect everyone else to cater to them just because they’re too lazy and entitled to learn another language.” That was a trait that bothered him about most people growing up in an anglophone environment, the lack of desire to even try and relate to people from other walks of life; forcing them to adapt from their culture. It was hardly fair in his mind. “Ha, yeah I can imagine there’s all sorts of interesting things that keep you busy. The newspaper mentioned something about screaming moose you know? I never thought I’d live anywhere that the wildlife would be much of an issue.” Or maybe he should’ve considered that before moving to White Crest. “Yeah! I teach up at the university, history and mythology department. Certainly no lack of folklore around these parts.”

“What?” Alain followed Arthur’s eyes and his shoulders shook with amusement at the sight of the old geezer eating roasted peanuts. “Alright, that is authentic for sure,” he had another sip of beer. Listening to the man talk, his brows furrowed. “You’re kidding? This is like music to my insomniac ears,” of course insomnia was a stretch, but Alain was not about to tell Arthur that he was a vampire hunter, and that as a result, he really didn’t need to sleep that much. Insomniac seemed a lot more simple. “Night entertainment and food, I’m sold,” he scoffed. Now was he surprised to hear that Arthur struggled with the french language? Not really. “Hey, if you ever need practice, you know where to find me,” he offered. It did not cost him much, and he liked chatting in his native language. Really a win win. “I agree. I mean, obviously if you’re only here for a week, there’s only so much you can do, but don’t expect everyone to speak your own language, that’s… logical,” he shrugged, refraining from rolling his eyes. “You just have to be … logical,” he repeated. Clearly things were easier for him when he visited France, but his time in Spain had been quite something, as he could only remember very few things in Spanish. “Screaming moose?” His eyebrows raised and he glanced to the side, clearly concerned. Could it be due to supernatural reasons? Possible. He’d have to ask Kaden about that one. “Clearly not. The area is quite … rich in folklore. I think we’re a good tie with Louisiana and Salem,” he agreed. “What is your favorite folklore story?”

“See?” Arthur chuckled eyes crinkling at the corners in his mirth at the token sight that seemed a staple in most pubs back home, there was always at least one. “No way! I kid about a lot of things but not that. Definitely not when it comes to a full Irish and watching rugby or football. For sure, next time there’s something on I’ll let you know, even if it does mean I have to sit and watch France play--” he lamented with a put-upon look though it was all in jest. Insomnia was interesting but hardly surprising in a town such as this; there could be any host of reasons behind it. “I might take you up on that, I find it hard not to be so formal in structuring the sentences...” Arthur tilted his glass a little “well, yeah sure but I still think if you’re going to visit another country it’s at least polite to try. It’s just always been a pet peeve, just people being so self-involved they don’t think about trying to make an effort for anyone else.” Alain seemed surprised and Arthur’s brows furrowed, “didn’t you see the newspaper? It was a while back but something about Sunday at sundown being when moose would scream? Seemed a bit weird… I didn’t know moose could scream… Just thought they trampled things.” But hey, wild life could surprise you especially in a town like this.

“Rich is an understatement,” he said with a shake of his head. “Issue is most of the stories around these parts were passed down by word of mouth… Not many actual documents to look at.” There was a spark that always seemed to light up his features whenever he got into a discussion about folklore, “oh, would totally have to be the Huldufólk - the hidden folk - Icelanders believe they’re hidden elves that live in the shadows between rocks, it’s said they love to dance and invade farms at Christmas to hold wild parties. That their origins come from the Garden of Eden, when God visited Adam and Eve, Eve was washing their children and hadn’t finished… Embarrassed, she hid the unwashed children and lied about their existence. To punish her God declared that the children she hid would be hidden from all of mankind and so the first Huldufólk came to be.” It was an interesting and unique narrative and one that had always intrigued him. “How about you? Do you take any interest in folklore?”

Pursing his lips, Alain remained silent as he turned to look at the other man, looking as offended as he looked amused by his comment on French teams. “Let’s not mention that England has not won a world cup in football since the 60s, despite being such a great nation of football, then, shall we?” clearing his throat, he took a sip of beer to hide his smile. Such an argument could go on for days, for sure, but it seemed like Arthur was not the kind to start pointless arguments. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I will admit to being less formal than I used to be,” it had been a while since he left the Babineaux household, and his speech level had grown simpler with time. “Of course. Portugal was awkward, I didn’t speak a damn word of portuguese and had to rely on one of those tiny vocabulary books,” he mimed the rough size of said book with his hands and raised his eyebrows in despair as he remembered how thankful he was that most people knew more English than he knew Portugese. “Yeah, some people do have a hard time not focusing on themselves,” scratching at the back of his neck, Alain looked thoughtful for a moment, staring into the gap. “They kind of sound like nazguls when they scream,” he finally commented, but it usually happened a bit later in the year. Alain had not exactly planned to discuss rut season, but if this was where the conversation was heading, why not?

“Like most stories. And it’s not like books or history is any better. It’s always written by those who survive, or those who won,” biased, but at least the version couldn’t change once printed on paper. You could tell how enthusiastic Arthur was about the subject, and it was refreshing. Leaning against his elbow, the hunter listened to the scholar talk about some ancient legend. The story sounded a bit too polished to be the truth, but he did not doubt that Iceland had a bunch of little folks living in the shadow. “It’s hard not to when you spend your whole life in this town. I’m afraid I don’t have stories to tell however,” clearly this was a lie, but Alain knew better than to start telling people he barely knew about his night time activities.

“True,” though Arthur raised a brow in mild challenge, “but what we do have are three six nations titles to the name in the last ten years. So I think that counts for something. You can take football, I’ll take rugby. Issue settled.” It was banterous and Arthur’s grin was cheeky in spite of himself. “You tend to get that way with time, formalities are nice but they can be so constricting to adhere to all the time.” He snorted a little at the comparison, “oh Gods don’t ruin Nazguls for me like that. No no that’s not allowed.” Lord of the Rings was sacred in this sphere and nothing, especially no moose screaming was allowed to ruin it.

“I mean that’s true of almost anything in life. It’s just nice to actually have some hard evidence to work from rather than just the word of mouth. At least that way you can start to deduce what influences there might’ve been on a source.” Perhaps the story was too polished, too easily wrapped up but it was a nice tale nonetheless. Not everything in the world had to be all doom and gloom. So what if there were elves that liked to play games and pull tricks. “Huh, really? Did you grow up here?”

“Heh, fine,” then coughing to jokingly hide what he was about to say, he added in a hurry, “Football’s better anyway.” Obviously coughing was not meant to really hide anything, and he found himself laughing. Shaking his head, he ran a hand in his hair and sighed heavily. “Formalities are fine by me, although I wouldn’t hope to see me ‘formal’,” he scratched at the corner of his mouth, shook his head and took a sip of beer again. Once again he found himself laughing at the man’s reaction. Alain really would have to stop insulting everything Arthur liked. “Nazguls ruined themselves on their own. Moose have the right to ruin them more,” it appeared they had yet another thing in common. Although he was never an hardcore fan, he still remembered the first time he read the Hobbit very fondly.

“Fair enough. I just feel like history is really biased and often misinterpreted too,” you just had to look at what people were taught at school. Maps placing their country in the middle of the world, wars lost barely mentioned… “I did grow up here. But no, no stories,” not any he wanted to tell. “I can however bore you to death about astronomy. Or myths related to constellations, although you probably already know them all.”

It wasn’t the worst, Arthur rather enjoyed a challenge and the fact Alain seemed willing to challenge ideas in a joking fashion was a good sign for the man’s own personality. “Noo!” he protested with a laugh waving his hand as if to try and stop the insults light-hearted as they were “that’s not allowed, only the waters of Bruinen are allowed to completely wreck the Nazguls or a hobbit with a frying pan. Sheesh these are the sorts of debates I used to get into with Evelyn. The real issues of life.” It wasn’t entirely true, this was one facet of many that he and Evelyn had discussed but Arthur was curious to see how Alain would react to hearing her name.

“It often is, but I think that’s part of the challenge of studying it. Knowing you have to work to try and uncover the obfuscated truth behind the fogs of what people want you to believe.” It was countless, the amount of times he’d tried to submit revisions based on contrary evidence, some had gone through while others… It was a tiring endeavor but one he’d continue to pursue regardless. “That would hardly bore me. I’ve been fascinated with astronomy since I was a child. There’s actually very little I find more interesting.”

“I don’t know,” Alain’s brows furrowed at the mention of hobbit held frying pans, and they furrowed some more at the mention of Evelyn. You could see the cogs turning and trying to figure out what this was about. Biting his lip, he shook his head. “You wouldn’t happen to be…” he tried to remember the words she used. “I think she might have mentioned that she had a favorite professor in town,” he scoffed, shaking his head. He supposed that it made sense that she would mention him to her mentor, as secretive as she could be, it was hard not to share some things.

If Alain had often had to do research, it was far from the academic kind, but that did not mean that he couldn’t dedicate entire days to gathering information on certain kinds of undead species. The hardest part was not knowing the species name and hoping to recognize characteristics in his readings. “That’s what I like with cars, they don’t usually tell lies, which makes my job a lot easier,” he doubted that cars would be something Arthur could be interested in, but he was not too surprised to hear that he liked astronomy too, but that did not mean he wouldn’t be excited about it. “Really?!” His tone of voice was unusually cheerful. “Then you have to join me for stargazing sometimes.”

It would be interesting to see what Alain came up with, and while he clearly processed the passing mention Arthur took a sip of his Guinness giving him time to think but out of the corner of his eye watching curiously. “Oh did she?” it was easy enough to feign mild surprise with just a dash of curiosity thrown in for good measure. He made a quietly amused sound, “yes, she does like to remind me of that as often as she can - along with the fact she was one of my brightest students… She’s hardly a forgettable person but if you know her I’m sure you’re aware of that fact.”

“Well, no lies if they’re built well. I once had a guy try to sell me a knockoff Bentley - full look of the thing but the insides were scavenged from hell. Luckily I didn’t agree to that deal.” While Arthur didn’t know much about cars, he knew which ones he liked and back in the day he’d raced the odd car here and there. So it was more a casual interest than a passionate hobby. The enlightened state that seemed to come over Alain’s features on the topic of Astrology - much in the same way his own lit up at the mention of mythology was interesting and Arthur could tell that whatever else, Alain was certainly someone he liked. “Stargazing? Sure, I’ve actually got a great telescope back at mine. Always try to do some Astrophotography when I’ve been out on fieldtrips… Nothing better than a long hike and taking some good photos. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Alright, so maybe it was not completely a coincidence that he and Arthur had ended up talking to each other, although Alain hoped that they really shared the same interests. “She does leave a strong impression, a good impression,” he clarified. Even knowing that she was not really human, he couldn’t seem to be able to change the way he felt about her, and he was terrified by it, even though he liked to tell himself that if she had fed on him this whole time, he would change his mind about the woman he had feelings for. “I’m grateful we met.”

“The lies here come from that guy, people lie, not cars. If you ever want to acquire one of these, please do tell. I like restoring properly older cars. “The Continental Bentley from the 1950s is a real beauty, but hard to find in good shape these days,” the man’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as the subject changed to astronomy. Quite the contrary. “See, that’s something I struggle with. I never seem to be able to take a proper picture. I tried, but I think I’m just really not good with that kind of technology,” he liked taking pictures, and Evelyn liked having her picture taken which was a great combination, but when it came to space, it was almost disastrous. “You really need to show me. I could use that.”

“That’s true,” Arthur agreed, seeming to take measure of the answer and find it satisfactory “she’s quite a remarkable young woman.” Evelyn had been right, and from what Arthur could tell, Alain was being genuine. “How did you meet? If you don’t mind me asking?” Evelyn had been rather cryptic of late regarding Alain and Arthur was rather curious to learn the story there. “She’s a good friend of mine so I find myself interested in the people she surrounds herself with.”

While Arthur was still taking note of Alain’s general disposition, he seemed to relax into the new conversation put at ease by what he could read from the other man’s reaction regarding Evelyn. “It’s funny you mention that, I’ve got the Bentley Continental V8 here at the minute but back home I have a 1949 Bentley VI Saloon and a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette. They’re some of the best drives I think I’ve ever had on the road.” An understanding nod was given, “ah yeah, often you just have to spend a while playing around with the exposure on the camera and make sure you use a tripod to keep it stable. It’s a bugger but once you get the hang of it it’s not too bad.” He grinned clearly excited by the proposed idea “but sure, next time there’s something astrological going on, send me a message and I’ll give you a crash course. Maybe you can give me a crash course in cars.”

Young woman. He had to wonder if this was meant to be an attack or not. As far as he was concerned, yes, she was young, and yes, he was older, and it was uncommon, but it was something he and Evelyn had discussed. In the end, it was Alain who felt the least comfortable about the difference, not her. “Oh, ahem,” he mused. “Well, I was trespassing on her property, which is a great first impression apparently. I wanted to find a good spot to stargaze, but didn't know it was a private beach,” he trailed off. Yeah, that had been embarrassing, and he had considered fleeing the place the moment Evelyn disappeared to get a cardigan.

Now he was glad he did not.

“Oh.” Well he really was not a fan of the newer ones, as he found them a bit too soft looking, but he kept that to himself. And so it surprised him that Arthur seemed to like some very different cars, but he would not question the man’s taste. To each their own. “See Evelyn, she owns too many cars,” he scoffed. An understatement, although it was not really a surprise. She liked owning things, especially pretty things, and Alain wondered sometimes if there was a reason for that need. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Let’s just hope that my crash course involves no crashing cars,” shaking his head, he took another sip of beer. “I just think that people, just, everyone should know more about what’s under the hood.”

It was less an attack, more a statement of fact and Arthur’s view of evelyn. She was an incredible young woman. There was no further intention to the words than that and if he did notice any discomfort it wasn’t remarked on. He’d learned one lesson lately and that was to let some things lie. So instead, he listened to Alain’s story, leaning a little more on the bar with his interest fixed because he was genuinely curious to learn the tale and get a better understanding of his friend’s mind in this. “And did she stay out?” Arthur assumed so but better to get clarification just to be on the safe side.

“But I do have the other two older ones, I might get them shipped over at some point… I just didn’t know how permanent my residence here was going to be and I didn’t want to ship them and find myself heading back overseas you know? Too much hassle.” Though he had to laugh at the statement of Evelyn and cars, “she has too much stuff period. Always has, but I can hardly blame her for that.” Arthur had his own reasonings about why that might be the case but it wasn’t something to discuss right now. Alain was nice enough but not someone he’d chat in depth to about his long-time friends. Not yet at least. “Yeah, I’d rather not go out in a ball of flames.” The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him. “You’re probably right, I guess it seems so foreign and alien to most people that even approaching the topic seems like a challenge. It’s kind of the same with history… or language. Some people nowadays are afraid of not being able to overcome the challenge I think.”

“She did,” he wrinkled his nose, “considering the reputation of Harris Island folks, I did consider for a moment that she was staying with me until the police arrived,” which was something that made him feel terrible, but could you really blame him. “I think she had nothing better to do,” Alain might have never been the luckiest person there was, but he always wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

“I mean, that’s fair.” Alain rarely had to get cars imported, but he remembered having to import his own car from France, and how much of a hassle this had been. “I’d love to have a look at those, if you ever do get them shipped here,” he added, finishing his pint and searching for his wallet to pay the bartender. “Glad to know that she always has been this way,” he had a light laugh. Alain had given up on thinking of things he could offer her, hoping that memories could be things she would cherish more. “Let’s avoid that, yeah,” he shook his head. “People probably think it’s too complicated, too hard, too … I don’t know… That only some people are allowed to have this kind of knowledge,” the man had always been curious, and it was no surprise to learn that Arthur, an academic, felt the same way about learning new things.

“Understandable,” Arthur had met a few people that lived out that way and hadn’t been too impressed with them “Harris island folks can be pretty funny about strangers wandering onto their properties. Luckily she’s one of the better few out that way.”

“Sure, I’ll let you know if I ever make the decision to do that… Though considering how much glass damage it seems people complain about online I’m not sure if it’s something I’d really want to expose myself to… But I guess knowing a mechanic doesn’t hurt with that issue.” Setting his glass on the counter he pushed back a little. “Maybe, I guess some people just feel its unreachable for them in particular or they have no effort in pursuing the avenue to acquiring it.” Arthur waved his hand as he saw Alain reach for his wallet, fishing his card out the back of his phone case before good-naturedly adding “don’t worry about it, I’ll get them.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you get a bit too out of touch with reality,” Alain was certain that his sister, or his parents, were the kind to react poorly to trespassers, and the reason he knew that was because he was himself not really fond of trespassers, and this, despite having spent the last two decades in the middle class.

“I don’t think soundproofing your garage is the answer to big noises, but hey, you now know a mechanic. I’m sure you’ll be alright,” the corners of his mouth tugged up, as he stood up from the stool. “Let me know if you ever feel like learning a thing or two, alright?” He frowned slightly at Arthur’s offer, but didn’t question it for too long and instead nodding, thankful. “Alright, thanks.”

With a huff of amusement Arthur grinned, “good thing people who are rational like us exist then.” With the delivery of a few notes across the bar and a tip for the waiter Arthur pushed to his feet and tucked his wallet away. “Well, nice to meet you Alain. And if you ever fancy watching ridiculously late night rugby matches just let me know.” With a wave of his hand he made his way towards the door and the walk back home in the early afternoon light.

[sserpente]

Mischief and Ice (Chapter 2)

Synopsis: Thanos’ cruel attempt to wipe out half of the universe failed and the titan is dead; but his actions came with grave consequences. Tears and cracks in the universe, all across space and time formed wormholes within the nine realms and beyond, giving old enemies a vicious opportunity to strike again. When the Jötuns invade Earth and the Avengers assemble to defend the planet once again, it is the help of none other than the former war criminal Loki they are reliant upon to drive the icy warriors back to their own realm. But then the God of Mischief encounters a young woman abandoned in the cold—your body mangled and altered with Jötun blood, a lab rat to the Frost Giants. He decides to take you with him and nurse you back to health, unable to comprehend the confusing affection he begins to harbour for you.

Find all chapters on my masterlist!

Stepping through a make-shift portal was hardly a problem, travelling by Tesseract or Bifrost had proven to be a lot more draining. The challenge was to put up with all the hostile glares the Avengers shot him like daggers when they caught sight of him, following suit after Thor.

He had to admit, Strange was skilled—he conceded him talent, yet he was hardly impressed. After all, he had been doing this for centuries. Last time, the mortal wizard had merely caught him off guard. Loki would not let that happen again.

“So… Frost Giants,” Thor began with a forced smile, sitting down on the chair reserved for him during meetings almost as if he had never left the compound. Loki simply stood, clasping his hands behind his back. There was no reason to get comfortable around these people. Especially Tony looked like he was going to shoot him any moment and Doctor Strange, joining the group at the table after the portal snapped shut behind him, steered clear of the God of Mischief anyway, fuelling the other’s suspicion even further.

“It’s good to see you, Point Break. But why the hell did you bring Reindeer Games?” Tony interrupted him harshly.

Loki only smirked as he lifted his arms in false defeat. Infuriating them had amused him then and it still amused him now. Nothing was ever going to change about this. He was not fond of his own past, and the reputation his own family had besieged him with. There was nothing to be proud of, not really. But, he had begun to come to terms with it. So what was wrong about having a little fun? A malicious smile worked wonders to hide a wounded and tainted heart.

“Look, Loki is…” Thor hesitated. Why did he hesitate? The world knew by now he was not really Asgardian. The God of Mischief sighed. “He knows the Jötuns a lot better than I do.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, followed by Natasha raising an eyebrow at him.

“Right… next thing we know he sets them against us.”

This time, Loki actually chuckled quietly, almost surprised by himself. He had fought so much in the last couple of years, survived quarrels with his brother, won against the Goddess of Death and lastly, helped to kill the titan who had scarred him for life… and there was absolutely no reason for him to still bother with all the people who had slashed his vulnerable heart not so long ago; not then and not now. Still… that did not mean he could not vex them when it felt like cooling medicine down his throat.

“You are not quite wrong, Agent Romanoff.” His blue glance wandered over to Thor who watched his every movement with widened eyes.

“What are you saying?” He roared.

“I am the rightful king of Jötunheim.”

The entire room fell silent. One could practically hear them all trying to digest what he had just said. Eventually, Thor spoke up again, leaning against the table in the process.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He stated dryly.

“A long time ago, we have tried your method. Do you recall how your blind lust for battle ended?” He paused, his wicked grin widening. “Brother… do you not trust me?”

Bruce scoffed. “That’s a trick question, right?”

Oh, it was. Never trust the God of Mischief. Loki was curious as to what it would feel like to be trusted for once, yet he felt no desire whatsoever to make up with the self-proclaimed superheroes.

“Perhaps it is about time I claim the throne.”

“Okay.” Tony spat. “What’s your plan? If it involves killing or any kind of narcissistic self-glorification, I’m going to kick you all the way back to Norway myself.”

Sighing, Loki rolled his eyes. Stark was the one talking.

“Please… enlighten me. Have you got a plan? Your metal armour will be entirely useless against the Jötuns, Stark, they would freeze the parts within mere seconds. What is your strategy?”

Steve was the only one willing to reply. Morally, the soldier out of time was perhaps the only one thinking rationally when it came to him. He could not exactly say that he liked him but at the very least, Loki was able to tolerate him.

“We should be headed to Norway right now. If they attack, without us the people will stand no chance.”

“Then what?” Loki probed, clearly unimpressed. “What about the places they have already taken? You are suggesting what has been on Thor’s mind since he first laid hand on his hammer—to hurl yourself into battle and strike where they will be at their strongest. The Jötuns will send their fiercest warriors to Norway, rest assured Asgard will defend it but their leaders… their leaders will hide, cowardly, in the background.”

“How would you know?” Tony snapped. In response, the God of Mischief turned straight to Thor.

“Laufey ruled Jötunheim for decades. The Frost Giants would not take kindly in leaders and commanders changing their utmost principles. I watched them for a long time, learned how they operate, remember? They do not like surprises.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression. “So what do you suggest?”

“I suggest we take the war where we want it to be.”

They have abandoned their palace and they left me behind to die. Was it mercy… or was it a worse fate they had tossed you into? You had run out of edibles two days ago. Covered in frost bites, bruises and other injuries but most importantly half frozen, you were surprised you still managed to melt the ice between your hands to drink some water.

No. Death would be mercy and yet, you did not want to perish. If only you had listened to your brother.

Come home early, he had said. Mum’s making supper, he had said. You didn’t know whether they were still alive. Your mum suffered from an incurable illness. She was weak, bed-ridden for the most part but she loved cooking more than anything in this world. Whenever she felt energised enough, she would prepare gorgeous and delicious meals for you all.

You should have come so you would be together now. You should have screamed at your boss and insisted on leaving. It wasn’t like you were getting paid for all the extra hours he forced on you… but you still needed the money on your bank account every month, if anything to pay your mother’s medical bills—you couldn’t risk getting fired.

What had happened to the rest of the country, you did not know. Iceland was fairly small compared to other places, the chances there was help on the way were ridiculously little. Maybe they were all dead. Maybe you had gotten lucky.

You scoffed, your breath blowing white fog into the cold air around you. Your will to live was strong but you had long bent to the Frost Giant’s cruel rules, learnt not to try and run away or lash out and fight back. Compared to them, you were tiny, fragile.

The worst part, however, had not been when they had impaled you with their ice cold cocks and filled you with their chilly seed, not the many bruises they had inflicted on you and not how they had made you bathe in a tub full of cold water and ice as a punishment or simply for their amusement but the many times they had injected you with their blood, watching you wither away.

They had told you many things—but they had never told you why they would attempt to break your body. Instead… they had simply done it.

It was short of a miracle you were not dead yet but if no one found you soon, then you would be.

Tony cursed quietly, earning himself a half-hearted scolding from Steve as he flew over the ocean, leading the quinjet to its first destination—Iceland. Natasha had been forced to switch off the routing signals. There was no need to give away their position, after all. What they had on their side was the element of surprise. That, and Loki’s ridiculous but unfortunately also very plausible plan.

Who was he to trust the one man who had caused his PTSD?

Once they had gotten suited up and ready to leave, for none of them wanted to lose any more time, he had stopped Loki with a scowl, grabbing his upper arm. The God of Mischief’s growl had been deadly.

“Why are you doing this, really?” Tony had inquired quietly. “Helping us, I mean. Surely not from the kindness of your heart…?”

Loki had had the audacity to smile—maliciously.

He trusted Thor—and if Thor believed that taking Loki on a mission and putting their lives into his hands was a good idea… he sighed. Loki had hoodwinked, betrayed and fooled his own brother quite a few times. No… it was still a bad idea and he doubted that he would make it out alive without having to kill Loki slowly at some point.

“What exactly are we looking for, Reindeer Games?” He started languidly after they had landed. Natasha was loading her guns—silent clicks echoing through the ice cold air—Bucky was adjusting his metal arm, Steve was fixing his shield and even Thor’s lightnings crackled through his new weapon. They all expected a fight upon their arrival and they were not entirely wrong.

The Frost Giants had left traces. It was almost beautiful. The rivers, houses, bushes, trees and streets, everything was frozen and glittering and glistening in the weak sunlight. Loki knew they must have established themselves a little empire and now abandoned it to hunt their next big prize.

“Look around you,” he explained impatiently. “Does this look like a battlefield to you? It is not. Mortals are no match for Jötuns and they knew this. Anything that is made of ice and moves—kill it. What we are searching for are their headquarters. A place for them to hide while the lower among them do the dirty work.” It did not sound much different from how Odin had ruled. Loki suppressed a scoff. It was a trait the dead king had passed on to his only biological son. He, Loki, was the brains, Thor was only the muscles. Some things would never change…

“So what do we do?” Wanda’s voice cut through the air, her Eastern European accent heavier than usual. He had by now noticed it did so whenever she was upset or nervous. Nothing Loki should be worried about as long as she kept her powers in control.

“We split up.” Thor announced loudly before Loki had a chance to reply. But yes. Working in solitude was what the God of Mischief had learned to prefer when the only person he could ever truly rely on was himself. Besides, upon an encounter with another Jötun, he would not have to dread turning all blue and monstrous in front of the Avengers—they mistrusted him as is.

There were no castles in Iceland, not really. But the God of Mischief, knowing exactly what to pay attention to, soon found what he was looking for. It was an old ruin, a former farm house—and it was the perfect place for starting an icy kingdom. The first of many places to find Jötun guards, councillors or even one of their leaders.

“I found something,” he announced dryly, still getting used to the little headset device that enabled him to communicate with the Avengers. “Stay where you are, I am going in first.”

“Hold on a second, Reindeer Games. What’s your location?”

But he had already turned the annoying piece of electronics off. It would only distract him, especially if he was forced to listen to Stark’s dull voice. Rolling his eyes, he approached the frozen farm house and pushed open the door, not even flinching when his skin made contact with the ice cold doorknob. Then, he stepped inside.

A/N: And so it begins...

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[troubleisfree]

this is going to be like a very long, detailed, and mostly my personal observations and notes. as it was my first time seeing neymar and the brazil nt in person, i want to remember everything i can while its still fresh. it was a very exciting and at the same time surreal experience because i see those people all the time on tv games and now there they were few feet away from me...

i took the photos and videos. i am usually pretty good at that but i guess the excitement got the better of me because they did not come out fabulous. tumblr is being stupid with not letting me upload more then one video in a post, and i wanted everything together, so i ended up putting them up on youtube.

the hotel 9/3/2018.

so first i went to the hotel (very close to where i live) on monday 9/3. as it was labor day, i was off work and at a bbq/pool party abt 10 miles from home for the day. brazil nt was scheduled to leave the hotel for their first training at 4pm so i left the party early and, after some traffic drama, made it to the hotel little after 3.40pm. there were not too many people so i had a decent view but i also moved around a bit. some of the support staff was coming out already. a few minutes later, firmino was the first i saw, he waved and went straight to the bus.

then a group of marquinhos, douglas costa, fabinho etc came out together. only marquinhos paid any attention to the fans, waving and smiling but didnt stop.

then another group, including casemiro.

then alisson came out. he was really sweet, smiled, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. interacted the most of anyone else with the fans. 

then another group - i think richarlison (idk him really), filipe luis, thiago silva. thiago was just as nice as alisson, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. he looked to me a bit shorter irl then on tv...

willian came out alone next.

at this point, it was almost 4pm, my excitement had totally built up and i was so anxious to see my boy ney. i started thinking that maybe he will get there separately cuz i hadnt seen coutinho and tite either. but there he was! coming out last with barely a minute to spare before 4pm (the timestamp on my photo is 3:58:59pm lol). he was the very last one to come out, chewing on something, with his typical swagger. he waved but didnt stop and the bus left as soon as he got on. he looked just as hot in person as on tv, the cameras dont lie lol. really handsome and very very sexy! i mean, i expected it, i have seen his photos lol but omg he looks so damn good you cant help those dirty thoughts! i felt like an absolute fangirl! this is neither here or there, but he looked to me a little bigger then i expected. just kinda...fuller?

i only took one photo of him cuz i wanted to look at him with my own eyes rather than thru the camera ;)

it was such an incredible experience seeing neymar and the rest of the guys in person so close that i was shaking after! like for real my hands were shaking, my legs were shaking. and i couldnt stop grinning for a good half an hour after. i went to the boardwalk to calm down a bit and just absorb the experience. people passing by probably thought im crazy or reading love letters on my phone or something cuz i just couldnt stop grinning but i didnt give a flying fuck what they were thinking - i had just seen neymar!

my notes and impressions:

1. OMFG I SAW NEYMAR FROM FEW FEET AWAY. just that, my brain was really way too frazzled to process any other impressions lol

the game 9/7/2018

so after some c. drama, despite my initial hopes, i had accepted that i am not going to go to the game. and then the day before i find out I AM GOING!!! i was so freaked out with excitement lol!!!

getting there was so frustrating! first i had forgot to charge my phone before leaving work so i only had like 30% which was nowhere near good enough for my plans of copious pics and vids. so i had to run into a bodega to buy a charger for the car. then for some complicated reason we had to leave from the ues and fucking DRIVE. crosstown. on a friday. at 6pm. straight thru freakin time square with its gazillion tourists. on top of rush hour. even though the schedule said 8pm, the tickets said the event starts at 7.30 and i wanted to be there early to see the warmups and at 7.02 we were still not even inside lincoln tunnel ffs! i was FUMING and ready to jump outta the car and start yelling at the other cars to get a goddamn fucking move on i got places to be people to see! just ugh. so frustrating. the only upside of taking so long to get to the stadium was that by the time we got there my phone was almost 100%...

anyway, finally at 7.25pm we got there and thru all the checks etc (my joke of a miniature purse was shown as an example to another girl with a slightly bigger purse and praised by security for being perfect size which pissed me off because of their dumbass rules it had is smaller then my regular WALLET ffs and it barely even fits my phone so in no way is it a ‘perfect size’ except maybe for dolls or tiny aliens. but they had the stupid clear bag / tiny purse rule in effect and all i cared at that point was getting in so whatever. still, fucking terrorists. obviously also for more important reasons than just being the cause of my having to have a tiny purse but yeah fucking terrorists). 

the stadium was buzzing already. apparently the 7.30 start was for the warmups so perfect for me. this was the view from our seats.

when we got to our seats, the usa team was out already. and the canarinho was interacting with fans. and then brazil came out. 

ney was warming up with coutinho

after stretches, he did some practice shooting. this one didnt go in.

after that the team went back inside and the canarinho came behind the barriers to interact with the fans (photo below especially taken for a.)

time for the teams to come out. for some reason the tunnel was on my side of the stadium but the benches were on the other side and they lined up there for the anthems. (again, for a.)

then the us anthem and, since we dont do things here on a small scale, the flag rolled out was the size of the whole stadium lol

in the first half neymar was playing in front of me. in the beginning of the game i took a few photos and then i stopped because i wanted to watch the game and see with my own eyes not concentrate on the phone... still, here they are

here is the penalty. i didnt catch it go in because i was looking at it happening rather then my phone. i also removed the sound cuz there was screaming when it went in lol. it was a VERY soft penalty btw...

my notes and impressions:

1. it was a friendly so not surprisingly, it was not an edge-of-your-seat game. still brazil dominated the crap out of the usa team. the difference in class and quality was glaringly obvious.

2. it was strange not supporting my country’s team. but only when i thought about it. otherwise my soccering heart belongs to brazil 100%, without a doubt.

3. watching a game live vs tv: both have pros and cons. again, after watching every week on tv, seeing these guys live in person is simply incredible. just absolutely surreal. like, they are moving, running, kicking right in front of you. you can hear the ball being kicked. feel the tension. see what they are doing without the ball. watch their interactions away from the camera. feel the power of the crowd. its just so much more immersive. at the same time, watching at home the curated game content is... convenient. you get closeups. you get facts from the commentators. your bathroom is nearby (i did carefully time my liquid intake that day to avoid venturing into stadium bathrooms and thank god it worked lol). so imo, watching a game on tv is not really that much worse then watching it live. i always felt like i am getting a completely filtered version on tv and it is filtered but it is not horrible. yes, you are missing out on stuff but its not a total loss.

4. the stadium was about 40% full, 32k of 82k capacity. but it felt more like 2/3, probably because on the other side many sections were not even open so most everyone attending was spread out in one long side and the two goal sides.

5. brazil fans were out strong! i’d say about 70% of the people were brazil fans, and of those about 90% had on brazil jerseys. yellow galore lol. the usa fans were constantly chanting but when the brazil fans decided to make the effort they drowned them out easily and completely!

6. the usa fans were in the section behind one of the goals. throughout most of the game i thought oh cute they are constantly singing their hearts out supporting their clearly outplayed loosing team. then they did iceland’s viking chant. yes, it is a cool chant but its iceland’s. idk why so many have been plagiarizing it! first portugal did it in the wc, then i saw another, and now the american outlaws (the usa ultras)... let iceland have its thing people. i did not appreciate it but no big deal. BUT then they did something that pissed me off - few minutes before neymar was substituted in the 80 min they chanted fuck neymar. i was not best pleased to say the least! lick sweaty balls jealous motherfuckers!

7. we did a wave that went around the stadium like 4 times!

8. there was a small group of 13-14yo girls right behind us that whenever ney touched the ball or looked our way screamed ‘neymaaaarrr, neymaaaaarrrrrrrr, vaiiiiiii, vai neymaaaaaaarrrrrrrr’. one girl in particular was especially shrill and vociferous in her dedication to ney. no sense of decorum whatsoever lol. my bf was smirking at me and was like why dont you go sit with them. i on the other hand was thinking that while i wouldnt go sit with them, if some of my tumblr girls were here.... well those girls wouldnt even know what hit them!

9. i would definitely go to a game again! 

10. while the seats we had were really good, i wish there was an option to be even closer and still see the whole pitch. then again, for me it would probably only qualify as ‘close enough’ if im allowed to run along the sidelines lol. but then i wont really be able to watch the game. (hey maybe i can hang from the skycam hahaaaa!). yes, i am a neymar fan but i am also a fan of the game so i want both. i did not have any input in the choice of these seats but i think it was a good trade off - the closest where you can both see the guys and actual game. if i have to pick the tickets for the next game (hopefully i will go again some time!), i would be tempted by the lower levels but the barriers are pretty high so... i would probably go for the same - second level first row.

11. there was a guy sitting next to me with his date and he was trying to be all knowledgeable and impress the girl but half the stuff he was telling her was wrong lol! he kept pointing to douglas costa and telling her its firmino. i was cracking myself up listening to him talk complete bullshit but with such grand authority about technical game stuff.

12. at some point a loose ball ended up into the stands, some guy caught it, and 2 min later security came to take it away from him :/ why not let the guy just keep the ball?!? stupid. if it was me, i’d have made a fuss, maybe pretended that it hit me in the face and threatened to sue the stadium cuz they have not ensured the spectators’ safety or some such crap lol. see if they dont let me keep it to avoid a lawsuit.

13. the canarinho (for a.) - he was really great! interacting with the fans, dancing, hugging fans. really a fantastic mascot and absolute joy to watch! during the halftime he was out on the pitch, doing keepie uppies (in those shoes too!!! showing his brazilianness lol), and kicking balls into the stands

14. i was totally impressed by neymar. it was just so obvious how good he is and no, not because i am biased, which i admittedly am. i expected him to be good, duh, but to see it so clearly was amazing. he is not a fluke, he is the real deal. he stands out among even such quality peers as the rest of brazil nt! just something in the way he interacts with the ball, the way he moves, ‘sees’ his teammates without looking, turns on a dime, does the unexpected. i dont think he ‘thinks’ or ‘calculates’ at all his moves or that it is just a lot of practice, i think it is pure instinct in the moment, i.e. phenomenal natural talent. even though this was not one of his greatest games for sure, he just looked... special and different from the rest. most of the brazil players were displaying their clearly high quality but there is just something unique in the way neymar plays. even if you dont know who he is, what teams are playing, anything at all, you’d still pick him out and know that there is something extraordinary about this guy. if you unfocus your eyes so you see just all same yellow shirt figures, you would still be able to pick out which one is neymar. he did a bit of his skills and tricks and of course i wished he had done more. what i took away from watching him play live was that, in this average game, he looked as good playing live as he has in the past when i have watched his great games on tv. i dont know why. but watching neymar play live was an experience of its own. it felt like his average ‘live’ performance is as good as his great ‘tv’. i cant even imagine what it would be like watching one of his great performances live. while i dont feel im loosing so much watching games on tv vs live as mentioned above, i definitely feel that watching neymar in particular play live is on another level and im missing out when i watch him on tv instead of live. he is absolutely worth the price of admission. i was so disappointed in him for his wc antics but thats in the past now, and i have been reminded how right it feels to be his fan, not just for the nice things he does for kids/charity, his fun personality (and lets not forget the good looks, and oh boy they are SO GOOD lol) but his undeniably outstanding talent on the pitch. his game is just incredible. i hope he keeps healthy. i hope he gets his temper under control not just for a few games but for good. and i pray he always has the freedom to shine like he rightfully can. i am rooting for him to get the appreciation and acknowledgement he deserves, unadulterated by behavioral issues or personal drama.

ok, imma stop now. this post is huge, even by my standards. 

[meepface]

1-100!

oof, thank you lmfao

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?

there’s a boy in my life which is crazy to me bc i was starting to think i could only feel this way about girls. i am bi though, that is very much so confirmed

2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?

i can think of two people right now honestly and i forgive them both. i learned from them and i grew from those experiences and i hope they do as well. i wish nothing but the best for them

3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”

my best friend got a new cat and she’s SO SMALL and she likes me a lot and cats don’t usually like me so it’s great

4: what’s something you really want right now?

to hang out with my boy but i’m doing that tonight! also i would really love to go to Iceland

5: are you afraid of falling in love?

oh absolutely terrified, yes, but it’s a growing experience every time and i think it’s always worth it whether they end up being the one or not

6: do you like the beach?

not really at all honestly

7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?

yes

8: what’s the background on your cell?

my lock screen is my dog Sophie and my home screen is just some pine trees

9: name the last four beds you were sat on?

my own, my brother’s, my boyfriend’s and my best friend’s

10: do you like your phone?

i honestly wish i didn’t have a phone a lot of times lmao i hate texting people and i hate social media and i hate being subconsciously addicted to it. i’m definitely trying to work on using it less

11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?

not at all but they’re going pretty fucking great so i’m not complaining

12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?

a new coworker of mine

13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?

both i love dogs

14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?

emotional

15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?

both ??

16: are you tired?

a little bit, i just woke up and i definitely wanted to sleep in a little later than 10:30 but my body will not go back to sleep

17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?

lmaooo since middle school, he was actually my first “boyfriend” if you even count the like 4 days we dated

18: are they a relative?

not at all, just some crusty boy i don’t even talk to anymore. last i heard he moved and is trying to be a monk which is strange considering the person he is

19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?

i would not

20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?

he texted me this morning but the last time we spoke was like over the phone two days ago. he’s been busy moving and shit and so we haven’t gotten to see each other for a lil bit but i see him today so it’s all good

21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?

not today, i’d definitely still wait and if they’re the right person i’m sure they’d wait too

22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

oh my god absolutely, i’m gonna kiss him so much tonight

23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?

none, i don’t really care for bracelets

24: is there a certain quote you live by?

there’s a few! “let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier,” “if you have good thoughts it will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely,” and “be kinder and gentler.”

25: what’s on your mind?

i’m kind of hungry and i definitely smell pancakes in the other room but other than that i’m super nervous to hang out with my boyfriend’s friends for the first time today bc i want them to like me lmao

26: do you have any tattoos?

i have three, a sun and moon on my wrists and “lovely” on my inner arm

27: what is your favorite color?

cerulean

28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?

toniiiiight

29: who are you texting?

my friend Stein, my friend Joe and i was texting my boyfriend but i think he fell back asleep

30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?

yes lmao all the time

31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?

yes

32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

yes my good pal Joe and also my friend Brendon and also my friend Cory and also my friend Derryck and also my boyfriend but he’s more than just a friend so i don’t think that counts

33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?

i would hope my boyfriend does

34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?

i get that fairly often actually bc my eyeballs are fucking massive and bright green and it makes me happy when people say that bc i used to hate em

35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?

i would be really really really disappointed and upset bc he knows how difficult its been for me lately and he knows i’ve been cheated on before and he’s been so fucking good to me so it would be a huge knock down to my ability to trust anyone. i’d honestly just break up with him quickly and as kindly as i could and just not talk to him again. i definitely think it would be harder to trust afterwards and i’d be heartbroken but luckily we wouldn’t have been together long enough for it to fuck me up too bad yet. BUT, he’s literally an angel and i can’t see him ever doing this to me so this is all hypothetical

36: were you single on valentines day?

no i was not

37: are you friends with the last person you kissed?

we’re dating

38: what do your friends call you?

my name

39: has anyone upset you in the last week?

i think my parents at one point but it’s all good, i’ve clearly already forgotten and moved on

40: have you ever cried over a text?

plenty of times

41: where’s your last bruise located?

i have a random ass bruise on my knee and i have no idea what that’s about

42: what is it from?

no clue

43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?

oh all the time lately, it’s hard to be at home right now. but i also just want to be out of state for a while

44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?

my best friend called me to tell me how her date went

45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?

yeah i have these bright white pumas that i loooove they look so cool and they’re so comfy

46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?

yep, i look good in snapbacks and dad hats so it works out

47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?

no i don’t have the face shape to pull that off

48: do you make supper for your family?

i would but i’m so bad at cooking that i don’t think they would want that

49: does your bedroom have a door?

yes

50: top 3 web-pages?

youtube, netflix and then my school’s login page apparently

51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?

my mom does

52: does anything on your body hurt?

my stomach is a little upset but it’s not too terrible

53: are goodbyes hard for you?

depends on who i’m saying goodbye to

54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?

coffee

55: how is your hair?

messy and in a bun bc i just woke up lmao

56: what do you usually do first in the morning?

lay in bed for like an hour and text people back and briefly social media bullshit, then i usually immediately shower once i get up

57: do you think two people can last forever?

i don’t know but i hope so

58: think back to january 2007, were you single?

yes

59: green or purple grapes?

purple but i like em both

60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?

when i see my boyfriend today, he’s been pretty stressed and he definitely needs a hug

61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

i’d say with my boyfriend but i’m pretty fuckin comfy in my bed right now so i mean, he can come join me here instead

62: when will be the next time you text someone?

whenever someone texts me back 

63: where will you be 5 hours from now?

a music festival

64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.

sleeping

65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?

yes i was dating her

66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?

yes

67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?

not yet but i will

68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

i have no idea, i was probably just nervous about today

69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

yes

70: how many windows are open on your computer?

just this one

71: how many fingers do you have?

10 lmfao???

72: what is your ringtone?

idk whatever the apple default one is

73: how old will you be in 5 months?

still 21

74: where is your mum right now?

she’s in the kitchen making pancakes which i’m about to go hit up

75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?

we just didn’t work out

76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?

yes, three days ago though bc we’ve both been busy

77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

some of them yes but i cut off a few of em for the better

78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?

definitely my friend Brendon, we didn’t work out bc we were both queer as fuck but he’s still one of my best friends to this day. i also had a huge crush on this girl that i don’t really talk to anymore bc she definitely gives off that whole “i’m better than you” kind of vibe

79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?

yes

80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?

yep & i get to tonight !! my bf is so cuddly when he’s sleepy

81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?

five LMAO but i only tried things out w three of em bc i knew the other two wouldn’t work out. ended up with the one i liked the most to begin with so everything worked out in the longrun

82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?

my boyfriend lol

83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?

yep a whole bunch i’m so excited

84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?

oof, i don’t think i’d yell at em but i guess my friend Monica, that’s some shit she’d drag me into doing lmfao

85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?

he is to an extent and it doesn’t bother me as long as he’s safe. i barely consider weed a drug anyway

86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?

my bf and i fucked in my car at 3 AM afterwards LMAO

87: who was your last received call from?

my dad

88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?

i think i would initially agree bc i need that money but i don’t think i’d have the heart when it came down to it

89: what is something you wish you had more of?

money would be nice bc i’m tryna move out

90: have you ever trusted someone too much?

yes

91: do you sleep with your window open?

nah there’s mosquitos outside

92: do you get along with girls?

yes!!!!! i love girls

93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?

no, i don’t really see much of a point in doing that

94: does sex mean love?

not necessarily but loveless sex isn’t as good

95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?

not at all

96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?

no

97: did you sleep alone this week?

yeah except for on monday night and i don’t have to sleep alone tonight either so it’s all g

98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?

yes

99: do you believe in love at first sight?

nah but i believe in infatuation at first sight sure, i believe you can have a feeling about someone at first sight, like you can tell if they’ll be in your life or not kind of thing

100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?

i think my best friend

[thelastdiadoch]

How Much Viking Lore Is True?

By Simon Worrall.  PUBLISHED JANUARY 22, 2017

Archaeologists have confirmed key details in Norse oral histories (but not the dragons, elves, and trolls).

In TV series from Vikings to Game of Thrones, the icy wastes of the north provide the backdrop to dramatic, often violent, stories of kings and warriors, dragons and trolls. The source for many of these dramas is the Icelandic sagas. In her new book, Beyond the Northlands: Viking Voyages and the Old Norse Sagas, historian Eleanor Rosamund Barraclough explores the world of the sagas, teasing fact from fiction to show that there was much more to the Norse peoples than rape and pillage. (Find out whether the Vikings deserved their terrible reputation.)

Speaking from her home in Durham, England, she explains how the United States should really celebrate Leif the Lucky, not Columbus, why the Soviets hated the idea that Russia had been founded by the Vikings, and how the gruesome Viking torture known as the Blood Eagle may have been more poetic conceit than historical practice. (Did Vikings make the modern world possible?)

You write, “The Vikings have always had a reputation as the bad boys of the medieval world.” Is it time to rethink this prejudice?

The idea of the Vikings being the bad boys in the medieval world goes right back to the medieval world. The first big Viking raid took place around A.D. 793 on the island of Lindisfarne, home of the Lindisfarne Gospels. But it’s important to think about how we know of this raid—from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which was written a hundred years later, in the time of King Alfred, who we know as a Viking basher. At about the same time, a strongly devout Anglo-Saxon cleric at the court of King Charlemagne, named Alcuin, writes a letter to the abbot of Lindisfarne, saying “Never before has a terror appeared on our shores like this. Remember the words of the prophets, from the north, evil breaks forth.” So from the start we have the idea of the Viking raiders somehow being God’s punishment for sins committed.

When we say "Vikings," we think of any inhabitant of the medieval Nordic world. But Viking literally means raider; it’s a job title. The people living in the Nordic world during the Viking age did raid and pillage. But there was much more to them than that. They were far travelers. They colonized the North Atlantic, parts of the Scottish Isles, Iceland. They’re in Arctic Scandinavia and on the Russian waterways. They founded a colony in Greenland that lasted 500 years and got all the way to the edge of North America.

Columbus is celebrated as the person who “discovered” America. But the Vinland Saga suggests that Americans should really celebrate Erik the Red day.

[Laughs] Well, maybe Leif the Lucky day, who is Erik the Red’s son. Greenland was settled from around [A.D.] 985, initially by Erik the Red. We know this partly because of the Vinland Sagas, two Icelandic sagas called Saga of Erik the Red, and Saga of the Greenlanders. These same sagas are our main written accounts of how Norse Greenlanders, a generation after Erik the Red, set out from Greenland and reached the edge of North America. First Baffin Island, then Labrador—which they called Markland, “forest land”— and finally Newfoundland.

But until the 1960s, the Vinland Sagas were our only source of information for these voyages. People weren’t even sure if they’d actually happened. Then, in the ’60s excavations on the tip of Newfoundland at L’Ans-Aux-Meadows showed clear evidence that there had been Norse visitors. I wouldn’t say settlers. There are long houses but they seem to be more overwintering sites, where they could mend their ships, then carry on farther south. There were women on these voyages, too. In one saga, a woman is said to have had a child out there, making her the first European woman to give birth on the North American continent.

What’s interesting is that, in the past, even before the archaeological evidence, Americans were very keen on this Viking heritage. Toward the end of the 19th century, there were lots of paintings showing big, romantic Norse coming across in their boats. But you also find lots of forgeries and fakes because if you can’t find a past, then you create it. There were fake rune stones dug up in a Minnesota field, fake weapons, and, of course, the famous Vinland Mapforgery.

You call the sagas “Medieval Iceland’s unparalleled storytelling legacy to the world.” Are they fact—or fiction?

The sagas were written in 13th-century Iceland and continued to be written and copied in manuscripts. In some ways, the medieval period didn’t end in Iceland until the 20th century. Saga comes from the Norse word sayer, which means “to say.” That gives a clue to the origins of these sagas. They weren’t just conjured up out of some scribe’s head in the 13th century and then written down. They had a long oral history going back centuries. These are stories told and retold, passed down through the generations. But that doesn’t make them pure fact. Stories change, they adapt, they’re embellished, facts drop out of them, pieces of information are added. So by the time they are written down, it’s very hard to separate the facts from the fiction.

^ A statue of Leif Erikson stands before the Hallgrimskirkja Church in Reykjavik, Iceland. The Viking is believed to have reached the Americas five centuries before Columbus.PHOTOGRAPH BY JON BOWER ICELAND, ALAMY STOCK PHOTO

Trolls and dwarves have become familiar to us from Lord of The Rings. Dragons form an important story thread in Game of Thrones. The sagas are full of them, aren’t they?

They do crop up in the sagas but the sagas can also be pretty realistic. Not all sagas are filled with dragons and elves. But the interesting thing is that they were clearly seen as part of the Norse worldview. When they do appear, they’re not seen as necessarily fantastical. You can be having a normal saga episode, where someone’s having a dream or wandering through a mountain, and suddenly a creature will appear. The idea of trolls lurking just outside, at the edge of your peripheral vision, is a common one.

The far north has always had supernatural, even diabolical associations, stretching all the way back to the Bible. We see it in the Anglo-Saxon worldview, all the way up to 19th century and Hans Christian Andersen’s Snow Queen. The farther north you go, the more inhospitable the landscape becomes. There are mountains and deep crevasses, strange rock formations. So it becomes easier to imagine in these inhuman parts of the world, that the only things that could live in them would themselves be inhuman, like trolls.

One of the surprises in your book is that the Vikings also voyaged east— and overland—to what is now Russia. Tell us about these journeys—and why the Soviets downplayed the Viking connection.

The initial impetus to go into Russia from the Norse world came from the people facing east: in particular, the Swedes. They crossed the Baltic then headed down the Russian waterways. If you want to know where the Norse go, follow the money. [Laughs] There are enormous amounts of Islamic silver flowing up and down the waterways during the Middle Ages, and the Norse are following those. They also are bringing things of their own to trade, like furs and skins, which fetched a very high price. And they’re bringing slaves, which is another reason we have all these raids and violence.

The word “Russia” seems to be derived from the term Rus, which, in origin at least, seems to have come from Sweden or some part of the Nordic world. These Norse tribes founded Kiev and created the polity that becomes known as Kievan Rus, the foundation of modern-day Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine. But during the Soviet era, it wasn’t a good thing to go around saying that your founding nation was built by Europeans. You wanted it to be built by Slavs, your own people, in opposition to Europe. But if you look at the first archaeological layers of trading towns, such as Staraya Ladoga in the far north, there are clearly Norse elements.

^ Vikings traveled widely, from Russia to North America, but they probably didn't make it to Petersburg, Alaska, where this replica Viking ship celebrates the town's Norwegian heritage.

One of the most gruesome scenes in the TV series Vikings is when the lead character, Ragnar Lothbrok, an actual historical figure, subjects one of his enemies to a torture known as the Blood Eagle. What is it? And did it really exist? Sensitive readers should look away.

[Laughs] The Blood Eagle was a particularly gruesome form of torture and killing, where you sliced down the spine of your victim, take the rib cage and pull it back, then pull out their lungs, which look like a pair of eagle’s wings. Academics argue as to whether this actually ever took place because the original source of evidence is a couple of skaldic verses. A skald is a Norse poet, so skaldic verses are written by Norse poets, usually a court poet.

One of the features of a skaldic poem is that it’s incredibly convoluted, like a cryptic crossword puzzle. If you have a reference to what appears to be the Blood Eagle in a skaldic verse, it’s quite likely this is a poetic conceit. Roberta Frank, at Yale, argues that the Blood Eagle is just the idea of a carrion bird scratching at the back of the dead. If you create lots of corpses, you are a very good warrior. That’s what is being referred to. But when later writers made prose stories around these skaldic verses, they seem to have interpreted it literally. So it’s quite likely that there was no such thing as this horrible form of torture, but it grew in the telling.

I presume you are not a fan of the Vikings TV Series?

[Laughs] I absolutely love it! Brilliant! They do so much research! For instance, when they set sail in episode one of the first season, trying to find the British Isles, they say, “How are we going to navigate, it’s so cloudy?” They then hold up this thing they call the sunstone. The idea is that you are able to see where the light’s coming from and that enables you to navigate. There’s a lot of debate whether something like this stone actually existed. There are written accounts of it. But they haven’t found any examples from other Viking contexts. But the idea that they wouldn’t know that the British Isles existed is absolute bollocks! [Laughs] They’d been trading for years.

You are an academic—but you definitely left your ivory tower to research this book. Talk about some of the highlights of your travels, and how working on this book changed your view of the Vikings.

I’m not much of a fan of the ivory tower. I find libraries boring [Laughs] So going to Greenlandwas part of the reason I wanted to write the book. I was there over two summers. The first summer I did it on the back of an Icelandic pony with a guide, who was this amazing, pioneer-type woman. We trekked from Norse ruin to Norse ruin, staying at Greenlandic farms, which were often in the same place as the Norse ruins. Later, I got on a three-day ferry and chugged up the coast past the Arctic Circle to a place called Ilulissat, which is a UNESCO World Heritage site because it’s full of icebergs. It may even be the fjord where the iceberg that sank the Titanic calved.

In Greenland, I was seeing the archaeological evidence for the view of the world I’d got from the sagas: the farms described in some of the sagas, the fjord where Erik the Red lived. I stayed right next door to his farm! More than anything, it gave me a sense of how extraordinary these people were; how far they went; how dangerous it was; how intrepid and brave they were to go out to the edge.

This interview was edited for length and clarity.

Simon Worrall curates Book Talk. Follow him on Twitter or at simonworrallauthor.com. 

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 30. Move II. Part I. Japan

Well, it was the long route, but we finally made it to Sydney. Things are relaxed: I’m beachside. It’s 80 degrees in late February. I’m in sandals, shorts, and a tee shirt, and I’m sipping down back-to-back açaí smoothies.

Three months ago, on December 12, I knew this day was eventually coming. Back then, I even knew exactly how the next twelve weeks would play out: absolute madness. In our indirect and unusual move from London to Sydney, Chelsay and I fit in trips to Tokyo and Kyoto, Dallas for Christmas, Seattle for New Years, a one-month-only busy season reunion with EY US, before catching our 24 hour flights to 'Strayaaa.

It was the absolute madness I predicted, but now, several months late (and with my third açaí smoothie in hand), I can finally present: Chelsay and I’s three-part moving post. Part I: Japan.

To begin, I need to rewind three months to early December. We were pulling together visa applications and arranging our London move (see last post), so I didn’t have much time to plan Japan. That said, I was too excited for the trip to not look into a few things.

I’d watched YouTube travel videos and developed a broad idea of the places I wanted to see. Instead of exact sites or temples though, my list was made up of unique Japanese experiences. In Tokyo, I wanted to experience the 21st century city: neon-lit streets, overwhelming density, and arcade-inspired quirkiness. Think Lost in Translation.

In Kyoto, I wanted to experience the opposite: Japan’s 9th century temples and shrines. Removed from the big city and hidden deep in maple and gingko tree forests, I wanted to walk through peaceful and perfectly manicured Japanese Zen gardens. Think The Last Samurai.

Luckily June’s family lives in Tokyo, so even though I didn’t know the exact sites to visit, she knew exactly where we could get the above experiences. That said, not only were we getting June’s insider tour, but we’d also get to spend time with June’s family, especially Chelsay’s cousin Yuka, and her daughter Sayaka.

Juju (a family nickname I’ve adopted) clearly knows me well, because the first place she took Chelsay and I was a katsu place for lunch. With all respect to the international city London is, this was our first good katsu in two years. Our Christmas trip was off and running right from the very start.

After lunch, June took us around Tokyo’s many unique neighborhoods, including the bizarre Tsukiji fish market, the jaw-dropping city views from Roppongi Hills, and the charmingly nerdy arcades of Akihabara. Small side story from the arcades: Chelsay shockingly beat me in Need for Speed. I’m not sure how she won, but it was a perfect showcase for her mixed background: the Asian side had the video game advantage, while her white side handled the driving.

For dinner, we met June’s mom and sister in trendy Ginza for shabu shabu, thinly sliced meats that you self-swish (“shabu” in Japanese) in boiling broth at your table.

This is going to be a long post, so I’ll just list my Day 1 takeaways in bullet form:

First, I don’t understand how Tokyo can be so clean. In any other major city, trash cans are over flowing and dirty newspapers are blown up against the sides of buildings. Not in Tokyo though. Despite being the largest city by population (36 million), Tokyo keeps things tidy.

Second, I’ll just repeat that last line: there a 36 million people in Tokyo. There are only ~15 million in New York City. There are only 24 million in ALL OF AUSTRALIA! I remember feeling crammed in London (8 million), so Tokyo was bound to be a circus, right?... Not so fast my friend. The difference between London and Tokyo is that Tokyo was built vertically, with retail and restaurants filling 20+ stories in each endless block of skyscrapers. London’s a relatively short city given most of the buildings were made in the early 1800s. Tokyo, on the other hand, was leveled during WWII, so city planners were able to rebuild a taller city using more modern methods.

Third, things are strange. White strawberries, square watermelons, pour-over coffee filters, massive tunas, crazy gamers, and Tweety bird giving the finger (see below). We hadn’t even cracked into some of the weirder neighborhoods (Shinjuku and Shibuya would come a few days later), but I’d already started to experience the unique, quirky, Lost in Translation-y side of Tokyo.

So, to summarize, Day 1 was a success. For Day 2 and 3, we’d be taking a bullet train to Kyoto before returning to Tokyo for Days 4 and 5. As a reminder, my goals for Kyoto were pre-turn-of-the-(first)-century temples and shrines. See, unlike Tokyo, Kyoto was not a target for the Allies, so the city’s temple parks have maintained that Last Samurai feel for 1,000 years.

Our journey back in time actually started with one of the most modern modes of transportation: Japan’s bullet trains. Topping out at 375 MPH (though only 200 MPH with passengers) Chelsay and I covered over 300 miles of Japanese countryside in less than two hours.

It might have been a futuristic commute, but our first stop in Kyoto, Daigoji Temple, immediately pushed us into the past. I’d never even heard of this place, but Juju’s insider tour proved valuable because this ended up be my favorite memory in Kyoto. Daigoji is tucked into a neighborhood on the outskirts of Kyoto, shrouded in quiet privacy behind a rows of maple and gingko trees. It was the exact experience I was hoping for in Kyoto: peaceful Japanese Zen gardens, precisely manicured bonsai trees, creaky but colorful timber shrines. It was Tom Cruise’s temple in the Last Samurai.

Daigoji was certainly a June-insider-special, but our next destination has gone slightly more mainstream: Fushimi Inari. Founded in the 700s, this temple ground is massive. It takes up an entire hillside just outside Kyoto, and its famous 10,000 torii gates weave through the surrounding fall colored forest. These bright red shrines are built by the temple’s Shinto followers, each displaying a prayer inscribed in the gate’s frame. Sayaka was starting to get hungry as we set off through the shrines, so she led our rather quick 2.5 mile trek to the top.

The sun set on our descent, so we made our way from Fushimi Inari to Gion for dinner. Gion, Kyoto’s most historic neighborhood, is lined with machiyas (traditional wood townhomes with paper interior walls), but is best known for its secretive geishas. For being entertainers, geishas are actually very discrete and hard to spot. ... we were on an insider tour though.

June and Yuka kept their eyes peeled and pounced once they saw one. Yuka sprinted down a tiny back alley after the geisha, yelling in Japanese: “Wait, we’re showing around Americans!” She actually caught up to the geisha, but apparently our American-ness has its limits: the geisha said she was “working”, so we let her carry on with her evening.

After our high-speed geisha chase, Saya finally got her dinner wish. We met Chelsay’s non-English speaking cousins at a small yakitori restaurant hidden in the back alleys of Gion. As Chelsay’s family seemingly beat boxed at each other, I politely nodded and laughed when it seemed appropriate while enjoying grilled chicken heart and beef tongue.

I should note somewhere in this post that I barely slept while in Japan... We were crossing quite a few time zones going from London to Japan to Dallas to Seattle and finally to Sydney, and I did not get off to a good start. I think my nights ranged from 2 to 5 hours while in Japan, and this night specifically was closer to 2. I guess this was also part of the Lost in Translation experience.

The next day’s schedule certainly kept me awake though. We started by banging gongs at Kiyomizudera, one of the 21 finalists for UNESCO’s New Wonders of the World because of the fact that the timber temple is built WITHOUT A SINGLE NAIL. We then took a stroll down the historic Three Years Hill, picking up tasty Malebranche matcha cookies as well as other various rice-based snacks. Next, we visited the Earthy Ginkakugi temple, hidden among a mossy, natural Japanese garden that reminded me of Iceland’s terrain, followed by the more superficial Kinkakugi temple, whose walls are plated in gold leaf. Finally, to close out the day, we walked through the Arashiyama Grove, where flood lit bamboo trees grow up to 90 feet tall.

This didn’t turn out to be too bad a day given I’d only slept 2 hours. It might be the most anyone’s ever accomplished with that little sleep. Who’s to say. Either way, I (finally) slept like a rock that night.

The next day, Chelsay and I grabbed a return bullet train from Kyoto to Tokyo. ...back to the weird stuff (in the most charming and culturally unique sense). Our first day in Tokyo included white strawberrys and Tweety bird giving the finger, but somehow this day would be even more bizarre.

After arriving back in the city, Chelsay and I’s first stop was the Shibuya crossing, labeled as the busiest intersection in the world.

Every three minutes, the great migration begins. As soon as the traffic lights change from green to red, 1,000 travelers take their first step in an arduous journey from one side of the road to the other. It is a chess match navigating this cross walk, but each delicate dancer somehow manages to weave around one another without colliding.

After witnessing this miracle of nature, Chelsay and I headed up to Shinjuku for a miracle of mankind: the Robot Restaurant. Restaurant is actually a misnomer, because there really wasn’t food. I’ll more accurately refer to it as the Robot Spectacle.

The Spectacle began in a bizarre technicolored waiting room that can only be described by the picture below. Really, no more needs to be said because you already have an idea where this night was heading. It was sensory overload, starting with the waiting room. 

After about 20 minutes, the Spectacle was ready, and we were taken to our seats. We descended a few sets of clown-puke staircases before arriving in a dark, basement-level arena. Was this actually just a drug trip? Was the waiting room an ecstasy high and this basement the crash?  If so, the buzz soon returned, as the dark arena was illuminated in a seizure-inducing rainbow of neon lights. The black curtains were pulled and the Spectacle was on!

For the next hour, Chelsay and I were completely sober but tripped balls. There were flashing lights, robots, dinosaurs, a Michael Jackson tribute, a cabaret, and a Kung Fu Panda rip-off. It was a non-stop, 60 minute sensory overdose. I don’t know of any other way to describe this point in my life (nor do I want to, given how long of a post this is), so I’ll just let the videos do the talking.

After the Spectacle, we needed fresh air and open space. We exited the arena into the cold Tokyo night, unsure whether it was the same evening or several days had passed during our long drug trip. I joke about the overload of the Robot Restaurant, but it was actually one of the exact experiences I was hoping to have in Tokyo. Neon-lit, overwhelming, quirky. It had everything, but now we needed to decompress.

It was our last night before heading to Texas, so we decided a wintery walk through the city’s illuminated streets was the perfect way to unwind. Starting in nearby “Piss Alley” (a series of “Old Tokyo” restaurants and sake houses where the patrons used to step into the small outdoor alley for… relief), we walked through the colorful, skyscraper-lined neighborhoods of Shinjuku, Harajuku, and finally, Shibuya.

To end the evening and our bizarre but exciting week in Japan, Chelsay and I stumbled into the perfect exclamation mark for our trip: a yakiniku grill. Over the past few days, Chelsay and I had enjoyed almost all of her favorite treats from summers in Japan: shabu shabu, katsu, raman, bento lunches, vending machine coffee, senbei from the local conveni, mochi balls, onigiri (no doubt), matcha cookies, yakitori, takoyaki (grilled octopus balls), and genuinely dozens of rice-based snack variations. The one type of food we hadn’t found yet though: yakiniku, a beef dish served similar to Korean BBQ, with grills in each of the tables.

There are 36 million people in Tokyo, and genuinely thousands of yakiniku options to feed them. This means you can’t really research because any TripAdvisor search for "best Tokyo yakiniku" comes back with 100 results. Instead, we Google searched for nearby options and just went to the first result with a high rating. I don’t even know the name of the place we chose because it was in all Japanese characters.

It was located on the ground floor of a large residential building, and was tucked about 100 feet in from the street. The entrance certainly didn’t suggest this place was anything special: plain, dimly lit, and with beer casings stacked up beside the door.

Thank god we opened the door though, because this place was phenomenal! The interior was still dimly lit and cramped, but from the entrance, we could see the perfect, copious, thinly-sliced, deep red, marbled beef. In the same night we witnessed the Robot Spectacle, dinner might have provided the greatest sensory overload. We were hooked at first sight, and the scent of the grilled meats on each large wooden table’s barbeque reeled us in. What’s that we hear?  Harry Potter playing on the restaurant’s TV? This place really was the perfect finale for our trip to Japan.

As we grilled the succulent, thinly-sliced hunk of beef, Chelsay and I reflected on the weird and wonderful week that was. As I wrote earlier, I didn’t have exact sites that I wanted to visit, but rather unique Japanese experiences I wanted to enjoy. In Tokyo, I wanted the Lost in Translation experience of neon-lit streets, overwhelming density, and arcade-inspired quirkiness. In Kyoto, I wanted to walk through the temples of The Last Samurai, peacefully reflecting beside Zen gardens and underneath colorful shrines.

To sum up our few days in Japan, all I can say is that it was exactly as I expected. This is the highest compliment I can give for this trip, a perfect Part I in our three part move to Australia.