#maybe a cone wasn’t the best idea if we go to Burger too

[miss-floral-thief]

Outta strawberry so

Got milk choc and lemon instead

[oscquinn]

Songbird c2: Honey Hi || Frankie Morales

Pairing: Frankie Morales × gn!reader

Summary: A couple weeks after first meeting the kind bartender with the warm brown eyes, you begin to get to know him better.

Warnings: none ??

A/N: I can't believe im already losting chapter 2 what the hell its only been a week since this idea came to me

Wordcount: 2k

Series Masterlist

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

You stood back, looking at the loose outline of a song you had just scrawled across the chalkboard wall in your room. You had a good feeling about this one. All you needed was one good afternoon to sit down and put it to music before it would be ready for the citizens of Boston. You had picked up a couple of regulars after eight months of busking, they enjoyed your original songs and had even bought the shitty CDs you'd made with a mixture of covers and original material. Speaking of busking...

You looked out your window to make sure the bright, cloudless sky hadn't changed since sunrise, then grabbed your acoustic guitar and headed out.

The sun shined on you as you made your way through the streets of Boston, past restaurants and studios, across crosswalks and through the crowds. As you passed the Sunrise Theater, your thoughts fell warmly on the fond memories you had already made there. It had been a few weeks since Rumors in the Night started weekly gigs there. The money was doing you well, but you still took to the streets two or three times a week. It wasn't even really for the money, although a couple extra dollars from passerby was a bonus. What you really loved was the performance, sharing a part of yourself with an indifferent world. If you could bring a smile to the face of just one lonely passerby, you felt you had done good.

You set up in the shadow of a bank, in a small alcove where the walls would push your voice outwards. You sat your donation jar at your feet and unzipped your guitar case, pulling it out and beginning tuning. When everything was set, you began to sing.

"Honey, honey, honey / Who could be sweeter than you / Honey, honey, honey / Bitter sweet, but what can I do." 

You were completely carefree, singing on the streets of Boston. This city was beginning to feel a bit like home, although you knew you wouldn't be here for long. Your eyes were still fixed on LA, on the lights of Hollywood. You longed to see your name in lights, headlining at the Hollywood Palladium. 

"Lord it's been good to talk to you / Even sweeter than wine / Don't take the love light away / Cause I'm far away from home / Daddy, all I'm trying to tell you / Lord, I really love you, love you, love you."

This was a good song to warm up with, medium paced and not too vocally challenging. It sounded better with a full band, though. You would have to ask Fatima if you could put it on the setlist for your gig in the park this weekend.

"Honey, honey, honey, hi / honey, honey, honey hi / honey, honey, honey hi."

You watched a child come up and drop a few coins into your jar and you smiled, leading straight into your next song. You ran through Have You Ever Seen The Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Waiting on the World to Change by John Mayer, Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac and a couple others you had in your repertoire. You liked to finish up with Thank You for the Music by ABBA, it was a favorite of yours but it took a while to warm up for.

"Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing / Thanks for all the joy they're bringing / Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty / What would life be? / Without a song or a dance what are we? / So I say thank you for the music / For giving it to me."

There was no one around, but you didn't care. This song meant something to you, and you were going to sing it for the world to hear.

"So I say / Thank you for the music, for giving it to me."

As you finished the song, a familiar face appeared in front of you. 

"You take requests?" Frankie asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

You chuckled, grabbing our water bottle and taking a quick sip. "Yeah, if I know 'em. I was just about to pack up for lunch but one more song won't hurt. For a friend, of course."

"A friend?" he asked, a gleam in his eye.

"An acquaintance. Someone I know. But anyway, hit me."

"Landslide," he said, and you rolled your eyes. "What!? It's my favorite."

"You could pick something a little more original," you teased as you tucked your pick into your pocket and started to pluck the opening of the song. Frankie backed up against the lamp post to your right, settling his arms across his chest.

"I took my love, I took it down / I climbed a mountain and I turned around / and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills / 'til the landslide brought me down."

The song was well known, and it brought you a small crowd almost immediately.

"Oh mirror in the sky, what is love / can the child within my heart rise above / can I sail through the changing ocean tides / can I handle the seasons of my life," you smiled softly, looking at the faces around you as they stopped to watch. 

"Well I've been afraid of changing cause I built my life around you / but time makes you bolder even / even children get older / and I'm getting older too."

You closed your eyes, letting the music take you over. You lost yourself in the song until it was over and the five or so people around you were clapping quietly and nodding in appreciation. 

"Thank you, thank you," you stooped to place your guitar in its case, watching from the corner of your eye as the onlookers drop a dollar or two into your jar. You looked up when you saw a twenty flutter into the jar, your eyes meeting Frankie's kind gaze.

"No, no I can't-"

"Nonsense," he said, "I liked your music, and you deserve it."

You zipped up your guitar case, taking the bill from the jar and pressing it back into Frankie's hand. "I can't take your money, Frankie."

He chuckled at your persistence. "Alright, alright. You said you were headed to lunch?"

You shrugged, "I was gonna go home, maybe make myself some ramen…"

"On a day like this?" Frankie shook his head, then jerked it to the side, asking for you to follow him. "C'mon, we're getting you some real food."

You huffed out a breathless laugh as you slung your guitar case across your back. "Maybe that's a good idea. I've been living here for nine months and the only restaurant i've ever really been to is the Thai place over on Matthews."

"You can't be serious," his voice was thick with disbelief as he looked back at you. You nodded, confirming your statement was true and he hadn't heard you wrong.  "What about the others, Ezra and them… Are they the same?"

"Ezra's a native Bostonian, but he's not big on restaurants. Julian and Cade both moved here around a year ago and me and Fatima have been here for nine months, we moved together. So we're all pretty new here, except for Ezra." You watched with curious eyes as Frankie waved to a man across the street selling snow cones. He was just so personable, no wonder it felt like you'd known him forever even though it had only been a couple of weeks since you met. He adjusted his gait for a second so you'd fall into place beside him, and for a moment you felt your heart flutter. 

"I'm from Eastern North Carolina, originally-"

"I can hear it, you've got a bit of an accent," there was a twang to some of the words he spoke, something that gave him a bit of a southern gentleman flair. And he was a gentleman, as far as you could tell.

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement. "Folks here say that too. I moved her when I was eighteen but I guess it never really left me."

"You can take the man out of the south-"

"But you can't take the south from the man," Frankie finished. His cheeks were tinted a little pink, a smile falling into place on his lips.

Momentarily, you paused to admire him. "Do you miss home?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, I miss it sometimes. I go back once a year over the summer, to visit my family. My sister and my nephews are still down there, and my mom and dad. But this is my home now, I don't think I'll ever leave."

You found yourself in front of a corner hotdog shop, and Frankie opened the door for you. The place looked like it was straight out of the 60's, checkered tile and all. "This is real food?"

Frankie looked offended as he sat down in one of the booths. "And here I thought you'd appreciate this," he pulled one of the menus out and handed one to you as you slid in across from him. 

You looked over the menu, looking for something that would catch your eye. "What do you suggest," you asked Frankie, laying your menu flat and tucking your feet up under the booth so you wouldn't kick him.

"This." He pointed out a burger, and you had to admit it looked good. "Best burger I've ever had, I swear on everything holy you'll love it."

The waiter came and took your orders, you got the burger Frankie had suggested and a strawberry milkshake to go with it. Afterwards, you found yourself staring off at the Jukebox by the counter. You wondered what they had in there, and if it was automated or authentic.

As if reading your thoughts, Frankie tossed you a quarter. You barely caught it, watching in confusion as he stood. "It's old school, just like everything else in here." You followed him over to the jukebox, and laughed when he pulled out a pair of reading glasses to see the small print of the track listing.

"What are you, fifty?" you teased.

"Watch it," he returned with a playful glare. "I'm paying for your lunch."

"Frankie you don't have to-" you started, but he shook his head.

"I'm paying, end of story. Can't have you thinking I'm not a gentleman." Your eyes fell on the gentle crinkles by his eyes that showed up when he smiled, and you wondered how anyone could mistake him for anything other than a gentleman. But you kept your mouth closed. "Now c'mon, pick a song, Songbird."

* * * * * * * * * * *

That night you found yourself sitting with Fatima, eating ice cream and watching a baking marathon on the food network. But your thoughts weren't on the contestants' lemon meringue pies. You were staring at the wall, your lunch with Frankie running through your head. Your lunch… date? No, that wasn't a date. That was just a lunch between acquaintances. Between friends.

You began to turn to Fatima, but as always she was ahead of you. She had turned down the TV and was already turned towards you, waiting. "He likes you."

You weren't even surprised, Fatima knew you better than anyone else. Of course she knew what you were thinking. "You think so?" you asked, and Fatima glared at you.

"Yes, I know so."

You tucked your knees against your chest, pulling your spoon out of your tub of Ben and Jerry's and chewing on it a little. Frankie was a kind man, you didn't want to read too much into his actions. But still, he had taken you out to lunch. And payed for your meal. And given you a nickname. "He called me songbird," you mused.

"Thats… That's adorable oh my god." Fatima sighed wistfully, eating a spoonful of her ice cream. "You should invite him to the show on Saturday!"

"I did. Well, I really just told him about it. But he said he'd be there. Is Landslide on the setlist?" you asked, and Fatima nodded. "Good. It's his favorite."

"What would you say if he asked you out?"

"I think…" you paused, but there was no need to. "I think I'd say yes."

End.

Permanent Taglist: @poestardust @tinyphantomsalad @thelazyhero-ttums @poe-djarin @djarinsidebitch

Pedro Taglist: @blackmarketmummy @coldlilheart @agentshortstacc

Frankie Taglist: @remmysbounty

[botanicalbarnes]

My Favorite Person

Prompt/box filled: “You are quite possibly my favorite person.” for @starksparker, “my dream wouldn’t be complete without you in it.” for @neverlandparker and @fairytaleparker

“You are so cute” for @goodthingshappenbingo, Proposal for @star-spangled-bingo, Halves of a Whole for @buckybarnesbingo

Fandom: Marvel

pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Doubt, so much fluff, passing references to sex

word count:3.2k

Summary: You start worrying over your wedding and your friends remind you of why you’re being dumb and of how far you and Bucky have come.

Masterlist

“Will you please quit pacing!? It’s your wedding day for christ’s sake! What are you so nervous about?” Wanda exclaimed sharply at you.

You turned to stare at her, “Everything! What if Steve loses the rings? What if I trip? What if Bucky bails? What if I forget my vows? What if-”

“STOP!” This time Nat interrupted with an incredulous look. “Y/N, first of all, everything will be fine, everything is already taken care of. Second, Bucky would never bail. He’s been in love with you and ready for this since the moment he saw you for the first time.”

The team and a few agents filed into the meeting room. Natasha, Tony, and Clint walked over to you talking about how good you looked and how long it had been since you’d last seen each other. You had been assigned to the London branch two years ago and had just been transferred back to New York to work with the Avengers.

A lot had changed since you left.

Everyone looked at the hologram showing the base you’d be infiltrating. On the opposite side of the room however, stood Bucky Barnes, who’d joined the team a little after you’d left. He stared wide eyed, mouth gaping at you from across the room. You saw his eyes wander up and down your body and you felt yourself bite your lip and do the same.

Even though the only light was coming from the hologram in front of you, you could see him blush when your eyes met. You held back a giggle, smirked, and winked. 

You felt his eyes on you through the whole meeting. To say the least, it was very distracting.

The corners of your mouth twitched upward at the memory. “Hell, he even got shot for you that day! You hadn’t even officially met until then!” 

You struggled with the Hydra agent. She evaded every kick, punch, and attempt to take her down. 

Through the fight, you failed to notice the other agent aiming his gun at you, waiting for a clear shot. Until, you heard the two gunshots followed by a loud groan of pain. It was so sudden that the woman you were fighting looked away just long enough for you to knock her out. “That should keep her down for a while.” You muttered to yourself before turning towards the groans. You gasped when you say Bucky on the ground. You cursed and ran to where he had collapsed. “Shit shit shit fuck. Woah, hey, stay with me, I’m gonna get us out of here.”

His eyes were fluttering open to look up at you. When he tried moving he hissed and clutched his side. 

You looked down towards his hand and saw his red with blood. “Wow, you’re beautiful. Hi, I’m Bucky.” You gave him a ‘are you serious?’ look.

“You are literally bleeding out right now. It’s really not the time.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine.” He opened his mouth to continue but you got up and tried to get him up too. 

“Not if i leave you here. God, you’re heavy. C’mon you need to help me out here.” Finally, you were able to get him up and have him lean against you. “Guys, Bucky’s shot, I’m taking him back to the jet.”

You felt his eyes looking up at you as you made your way to the jet.

Laying him down as gently as possible, you pulled his gear and clothes off to see the damage, leaving him in his pants. “How did you manage to get shot anyway?” You gave him the strongest pain meds you had at hand and tried to patch him up best you could.

“He was going to shoot you. I tried to stop him. I went in front of him right when he took the shot. I had fired my gun already but I wasn’t quick enough. I couldn’t let them hurt you.” You stopped everything and stared into his eyes. He had gotten shot… for you. You didn’t know what to say. Without thinking, you leaned down to give him a lingering kiss. 

“You haven’t told me your name.” He said softly when you’d parted. 

“It’s Y/N.” You replied in a whisper.

“Remember how nervous he was when he finally asked you out? He wouldn’t stop asking us for advice on how to do it and then followed none of it.” Wanda added.

It was another Sunday morning at the compound. Nothing weird or off about it. You sat comfortably on a stool by the kitchen island in your PJ’s, eating cereal and scrolling through your phone. 

Bucky walked in, rubbing his eyes and yawning, not noticing you watching him move about. He filled his favorite mug with coffee and took a muffin from a tray set out. With a sigh, he sipped his coffee and pulled out a chair across from you. He put his mug down and looked up. A tiny scream escaped his lips when he saw you and you couldn’t contain your laughs. “Y/N. Hey, um, good morning. I, uh, didn’t see you there.” 

All through breakfast, you watched him silently twitch and shift uncomfortably. You finished your cereal, washed your plate, then left the kitchen. Maybe you’d go out and get a dress for that gala thing Tony was making everyone go to. ‘A red one’, you thought, ‘maybe Bucky will pick up on the hints and-’

Bucky’s voice called out your name behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts.

When you turned, Bucky caught up to you looking like he regretted it. His flesh hand came up to scratch his neck nervously. He opened and closed his mouth, searching his mouth for what to say. “Um, so, uh, You know th-that gala thing Tony w-want us to go to?” You nodded and he swallowed, taking a deep breath. 

“Iwaswonderingifyou’dwanttogowithme.” He said all in one breath. You laughed lightly.

“What? Can you say that again please Bucky? A little slower this time?” 

He took a deep breath, “I was wondering. I-if you would l-like to go to that gala. W-with me. Like a date. Y-ya know, t-together.” His eyes met yours and a broad smile spread over your lips. 

You stepped forward to him and pulled him in for a deep kiss. After a moment he kissed you back and pulled you against him. “So is that a yes…?” He said against your lips. You pulled back and giggled.

“Yeah, Buck. It’s a yes.” He beamed (to put it lightly) and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Don’t forget when he told you he loved you. On your fourth date.”

You and Bucky walked down the street from the ice cream place. Your dress shone under the street lights. You licked and bit your ice cream cone until there was nothing left. You turned to Bucky, laughing at what what he was saying. “Hold on, you got ice cream on your chin.” He said. Instead of wiping it off with his thumb or a napkin, he opted for kissing you clean. You giggled as he kissed and licked your chin, then trailing along your jaw. Your face was scrunched up happily when he came up again. 

“You are so cute. Ugh, I love you.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he knew you had heard it. His eyes widened and he winced slightly. “You, um, you don’t need to say it back. Uh, I know it hasn’t been long but, I meant it. I love you Y/N.” 

You stood pleasantly shocked. You kissed him softly before saying, “I know. I love you too.” Of all the things he could have expected you to say, ‘I love you too’ was not one of them. Not that he had any objections.

“And his proposal.” Wanda laughed, “He planned that for weeks!”

“Where are we going? Bucky come on!” You whined.

“You’ll see. We’re almost there. Stop pouting.” He pecked your lips quickly, making you smile. “That’s my girl.”

“You better not be taking me out to the middle of fucking nowhere to kill me, James Barnes.” He rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Whoops, you caught me! I’m taking you, my girlfriend who I love more than anything, into the woods to kill you. When I know we both have trackers and everyone knows we left the compound together.” The sarcasm was practically dripping from his words. A moment of silence was followed by a fit of laughter from both of you. “Ok, we’re here.” He took your blindfold (that has more than one use when it comes to you two) off and you gasped at the sight in front of you. You were literally in the middle of nowhere. Trees were in every direction, but just ahead was a clearing, the sun lit up the small circle. A plaid blanket was spread out in the center, with a cute picnic basket on it and some pillows. 

“Bucky! This is incredible! When did you have time to set this up? Or find this place?” 

“Nat and Steve just left, they texted me that everything was ready like two minutes ago. And remember when Tony gave Sams wings an upgrade and Sam went flying for like two hours? Yeah he stopped to rest or something and he found this. Hey, lets eat, i know you’re starving.” As if on queue, your stomach growled loudly. 

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea. So what’d you bring?” You said as you sat down and fixed your sundress.

“Well,” Bucky started, “Two days ago you said you would kill for a burger and fries. Sooo…” He opened the basket to reveal bags of Mcdonalds, “I had Steve and Nat pick some up for us.” You practically lunged at him. He landed on his back and you laughed gleefully. Ugh, you loved him so much. You peppered him with little kisses and thanked him repeatedly. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, I love you, I love you!!! You. Are. The. Greatest.” He chuckled at your excitement. You got off of him and started stuffing your face, moaning at the first bite. 

By the time you were full, you found yourself laying down on the blanket, your head in Buckys lap as he read softly to you. He stopped at the end of a chapter. “Doll, would you mind getting my phone for me? I think it’s somewhere over there.”

“Mhm. Gimme a kiss first.” You demanded. He let out an exaggerated sigh as if it was a chore. With a grin on his face, he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss on the lips. You hummed contently and jumped up. You took a few steps over to his phone, picking it up. “Why’d it end up over here.” Little did you know he’d done that on purpose. 

When you turned and stepped towards him, you raised your head to look at him. Your jaw dropped to the floor and a loud gasp escaped you. You dropped Bucky’s phone and threw your hands over your mouth when you saw him on one knee in front of you. 

“Y/N. The moment is saw you, I swear I was a goner. I’ve loved you since the beginning. Before you, if someone had asked me if love at first sight was real, I would have said ‘hell no’. But here we are. But I never thought that you’d love me too. When you told me you loved me, I think my heart stopped and started up again. And everytime you say it or kiss me, I feel like the luckiest bastard alive. There’s only one thing that would make that 100% true though. So, will you make me the happiest, luckiest, man in the universe, and marry me?”

He opened the small box in his hands and you nodded hysterically, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, yes, yes! Of course!” Your hand shook uncontrollably as he took it and slid the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit. Nothing could possibly ruin your happiness or wipe the smile off your face. Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tight for a hug. Your arms snaked around his neck, and you admired the beautiful ring on your finger. 

You were both laughing softly as you moved to kiss. Out from behind the trees came everyone. The whole team was there congratulating you. Peter and MJ stood a bit behind, cameras in hand capturing every perfect moment. 

That same happy smile was back on your face from just thinking about that day. Tears of joy pooled in your eyes knowing that in less than an hour, you’d at long last be Mrs. Y/N Barnes. You blinked them away quickly so as to not mess up your makeup. 

“There’s that smile.” Said Nat softly. A knock from the door made the six heads in the room turn. 

“I’ll see who it is.” Hope said. You watched as she opened the door slightly and immediately said, ‘NOPE. Bad luck.” before closing it again. 

“C’mon! Please Hope! I have a blindfold and I can walk in backwards! I just really gotta talk to her. Just five minutes, I promise!” Came Bucky’s voice. She looked at you with a question in her eyes. You grabbed a piece of scarf and wrapped it around your head. 

“Let him in. Wait outside, all of you. And no eavesdropping!” You listened as Nat, Wanda, Hope, Valkyrie, and Morgan left the room. Your back faced the door just in case of anything. Someone guided him to you and you laced your fingers with his as you stood back to back.

“Hey.”

“Hey. What are you doing here, you know it’s bad luck.” 

“I know, I know. I just had to talk to you before the ceremony. Can you believe it’s finally time?!” His voice was electric with excitement, then turned calm and soft again, “I wanted to make sure you weren’t freaking out or worrying about everything.” He knew you so well.

“I was.” You laughed. “Then the girls made me think about how far we’ve come. Our good moments together.”

“Yeah. Can you believe it’s been two years already?”

“To be honest, no. Ya know what they say: ‘Time flies when you’re having fun’. So is everything ready? Nothing’s gone wrong or anything right?” Your voice went higher towards the end of your sentence. 

“No. Nothing’s wrong. Please stop worrying. I just went to check on everything and it all looks wonderful. The flowers are all where they need to be, decorations are in place, the cake is great, everything is great. Just half and hour and you’ll be my wife.”

You squealed happily. “I know! If only time could go by faster! I can’t wait another second to officially be Mrs.Barnes!”

“Me neither. I can’t wait to see you. In your dress… And without it t-” The doors burst open before Bucky could get another word in.

“Ok. That’s it. Let’s go. Get outta here.” You gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze before the girls dragged him out.

*

You adjusted your dress, took a deep breath, and took your father’s arm. The doors in front of you opened one more time and you walked through them slowly. You lifted your head and as soon as your eyes settled on Bucky, whose back was facing you, everything stopped. You saw as his shoulders rose and fell before he turned and saw you. 

You tuned out the gasps, the music, the whispers, and all the people. All you could see, was him. You saw him take a sharp breath when he saw you. Even from where you were, you saw the tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t even try hiding them or blinking them away.  This only spurred on yours and made them stream freely down your cheeks. Thank god your makeup was waterproof.

Then, you were standing in front of Bucky, both of you beaming. You scarcely heard what the officiant was saying, and only registered when Bucky was asked to recite his vows. 

“Wow. What to say? Growing up in the 40’s, I had an idea of what my life would be like. Before the war, my dream was to eventually settle down with a nice, calm girl and maybe have some kids. When the war broke out, I was sure that I’d die out there. For so long, I’d hoped that I would. Then, after everything that happened to me, I never thought I could have that. At best, my dream became to live out my days making up for everything I’ve done and all the time I’ve lost. But then I met you. You: the most beautiful, sassy, adventurous, insanely smart, fiery, spontaneous, strong, fun, cheeky, and confident woman who I’ve ever met. The one I fell in love with. Since then, I know that my dream wouldn’t be complete without you in it. I’m so happy that you chose me, and that my dream is becoming a reality. So I promise to be the best man I can be, to love you forever, and to be your partner in everything. I love you. Let’s do this.” 

His words were almost whispers as he finished. Your hand reached up to wipe away the tears that had fallen. 

“Bucky. I can’t possibly top that.” Laughter filled the space around you in a reminder that it wasn’t just you and him. 

“All i can say, is that you have changed my life. Without you, I don’t know where I would be right now. You have saved me; literally and figuratively. I feel at home when I’m with you, because I am. I’ve been happier these past two years with you that I ever had been. You complete me. You’re my other half I never thought I’d find. You are quite possibly my favorite person. Actually, you totally are, without question. I’m so glad I met you. And so excited to start this new chapter by your side. I vow to take care of you, and be there for you even if, and most especially when that means getting into trouble together. I can’t wait to love you for the rest of my life. So yeah… Let’s do this.”

The rest of the ceremony blurs together with the stormy blue of Bucky’s eyes. You snapped back to reality when you heard: “I now pronounce you husband and wife… You may now kiss the bride.” And oh he definitely did. Very, very thoroughly. 

You broke apart grinning ear-to-ear as the cheers and whoops electrified the air around you. Your forehead was on his and you looked into each others eyes. “Hello Mrs. Barnes. Have I ever mentioned I love you?”

“I think you might have once or twice, Mr. Barnes. You should probably spend the rest of your life reminding me though. Just to make sure.”

***

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[shibereshu]

From now on

Pairing: Byeongkwan x reader

Word count: 1.9k

A fic for those cold and lonely days when all you want is a hot cocoa cup and a hug from your boy Byeongkwan <3

“ I swear every moment I spend with you feels like the best moment ever “

«We are reaching temperatures of 3°C in some parts of the country, expect strong wind and cloudy skies. Our advice is to stay inside and drink warm soup, if you have to go out, please wear warm clothes. Now it is time for some traffic news: in the A69, an accident...»

You looked out of your window and pulled the blanket that was already around your shoulders a little bit closer. It was so cold, you were thinking about putting some gloves on. “This must be the coldest November ever” you thought, “even the birds that are usually outside of my window are already gone, probably flying to the south looking for some warmth”.

Your parents were visiting your uncles in another village, so you and your brother were alone for the whole weekend, and he spent almost the whole day at his girlfriend’s house. Therefore, you were alone, cold and really bored.

In addition to all of that, there was something bugging you since you had woken up that day. Almost two weeks before, you had had one of the best days of your life: Your friends were all in a great mood, and the classes went by so quickly that you didn’t have time to get bored. After that, you went together to the movies, and your father gave you some money instead of telling you to pay for everything yourself, which was what usually happened. The movie you went to see had been playing already for a few weeks, so almost everyone had seen it already and you and your friends were the only ones in the room. Moreover, since you were also friends with the boys who worked there, you could sneak some burgers in and enjoy them while watching one of the greatest movies you’d ever watched.

One of the boys who worked at the cinema, Byeongkwan, and you had gotten pretty close since you had met each other almost a month and a half before. You knew you’d kind of started feeling things for this boy, but you could have never imagined that, that same day, he would walk you home after the movie had ended, look you in the eyes and ask you if you would go out with him.

Of course you had said yes, and after that you both had smiled all the way to your house, holding hands without even noticing.

However, something didn’t feel right... Two weeks in, and even though you had been chatting as usual, it felt like nothing had changed from when you weren’t a couple yet. He treated you the same way he treated any of his friends. He almost showed more affection to his colleague, Sehyoon, than to you!

You were starting to think that it had all been a dream... you were someone who usually spaced out, and maybe that’s what had happened after all. Maybe he walked you home in silence and your mind just made up everything so you wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of just walking by his side without saying anything at all. “Yes, that’s probably what has happened” you told yourself, “we are not dating. It was just an illusion”. But, what if...?

Letting out a squeal of exasperation, you took your phone and texted one of your closest friends asking for reassurance.

(y/n): hey boo

(xxx): don’t you dare ask me for my geography notes again I told you to stop drawing instead of paying attention to the teacher and you didn’t listen so it’s only your fault.

(y/n): I WAS NOT GOING TO ASK YOU FOR THAT KSNFVPKNSD

(xxx): okay then what? Byeongkwan?

(y/n): ...

        you know what, I’ll just text Chengze

(xxx): nooooo sorry sorry

         this weather is bringing my grumpiness out *sigh*

         tell me p l e a s e

(y/n): well...

        am I dating Byeongkwan?

(xxx): WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT???

(y/n): SORRY it’s just... I just may think- I mean I am mostly sure- but I don’t know... I think I just made it up, you know? because it’s been almost two weeks now and we haven’t gone anywhere together, and we speak to each other like... like nothing has happened... I DON’T KNOW I’M JUST A MESS

(xxx): okay okay, chill girl, you haven’t made anything up, you guys are dating for sure. BUT honestly I think you should text him? it’s better if you tell him what you expect from him as your boyfriend and prevent any misunderstandings.

(y/n): :((

You shaked your head and let your whole body collapse onto your bed. Why did everything have to be so complicated?? Did you even know what you wanted Byeongkwan to act like? Wasn’t that a bit egotistic, making your boyfriend change his usual behaviour? But still... shouldn’t he treat you in a different way? you were his date, after all.

You still hadn’t texted him that day, so you decided to start a regular conversation and see how it went from there.

(y/n): hey Byeongkwan :) how is your day going? are you busy with work?

BK: hey! yes, we are a bit busy but our boss told us we could go home a bit earlier today so that’s great ;)

(y/n): awesome!! it’s so cold... be careful when you go out!

BK: yes don’t worry about me haha

“What does he mean -don’t worry about me??- of course I worry about him, he is my boyfriend! oh my this is so exhausting. I don’t understand anym-” a new message cut you off mid-sentence.

BK: should we meet today?

Your phone almost fell off your hands, as surprised as you were.

(y/n): sure!

BK: awesome! do you want to meet here at the cinema at 7? we can go somewhere from here

(y/n): okay :)

BK: great :) can’t wait to see you! I really wanted to go on a date with you soon 🙈

You could feel your cheeks turning pink and your lips turning upwards into a smile. You couldn’t believe you had been so worried about it, ugh, your smile slowly turned into cringe. But, enough of thinking about what had happened, it was time for putting on some nice warm clothes and heading out to the cinema.

A strong wind made the cold slip trough your clothes into your skin. You could amost feel it in your bones. You had only crossed the street, but your nose was already red and numb, and you couldn’t feel your toes. Gripping the edges of your jacket, you tried to hide your face under your scarf and walked as fast as your could. On your way to the cinema, you passed by a stall where an old woman was selling roasted chestnuts, one of your favourite autumn snacks. Your stomach roared, but you knew it wasn’t a good idea to stop, even if it was for a warm, just-out-of-the-oven cone of chestnuts.

Finally, you arrived at the venue and warmed yourself up by a heater while waiting for Byeongkwan to finish his shift.

“I’m done! (y/n)! you are shivering!! is it so cold outside?”

Byeongkwan pulled you into his arms and hugged you for a minute

“I think there are some stalls at the park where they sell hot cocoa and coffee!  should we take a look?”

Drinking something warm sounded great, even if it was outside, so you agreed and both of you started walking in the park’s direction.

You started shivering again as soon as you went out of the door, so Byeongkwan let his arm rest on your shoulders and stroked your arm so it would warm up a little.

“Hey Byeong... Byeongkwan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you”

He smiled at you, but his eyes showed concern, “are you okay? I think if we stay outside you are going to get sick”

“No! don’t worry! I’m fine!” going out with Byeongkwan had made you so happy that you thought it was worth bearing the cold... you really didn’t want to go back home and miss this opportunity, so you tried to seem cheerful and not bothered by the weather.

“You know what? I think we should stay inside today”

You were almost going to tell him again that everything was alright, but he continued, “why don’t we go to my apartment? Donghun is there, but he will be minding his own thing, and he’s a great cook! If you don’t mind him joining for dinner we can cook something together and then he will leave to work, so we can play some videogames in the living room or watch a movie! whatever you want” He smiled warmly, waiting for you to answer.

You had already been to his house with some of your friends, so even though it was the first time you would go as his partner, it didn’t feel so out of your comfort zone. You really liked Donghun too, he was always really chill and a great person to hang out with, so you liked the idea of having a warm dinner with them and then spending some alone time with Byeongkwan.

“Yes! that’s such a good idea I feel like crying!! this cold is killing me!!”

Byeongkwan laughed at your excitement and punched your arm softly, “you should have told me the truth! you are freezing!”

“I thought you were going to tell me to go back home!”

“Of course not, silly, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I missed the opportunity of having a date with you. I know this past two weeks I have been acting kind of distant... and I wanted to say sorry. I was so worried yesterday, because I thought you were going to leave me for sure! but so many things were happening at the same time, and Jun has had it pretty rough lately, so I was really worried about him... but everything is back to normal and he’s doing well now! and I will treat you as you deserve from now on, I promise!”

“Oh my, and I thought I was the dramatic one! of course I won’t leave you just because of a stupid reason like that! you should have told me about Jun!!”

“Wait, were you also worried about us? I mean... as a couple”

“What? me? no? who? why?”

“Ooooh, so that’s why XXX told me that you were being in a bad mood today”

“XXX did what??!!?? I’m so going to kill her”

You both walked to his apartment, laughing and speaking about your nosy friend and how she and you were always jockingly arguing with each other.

When you finally were inside, Byeongkwan told you to leave your jacket and purse wherever you wanted to and said he had to pick something up, so he left you chitchatting with Donghun and went down the stairs again.

Ten minutes later, your boyfriend had brought you a cone of roasted chestnuts and a hot cocoa cup, and you were all chilling in the living room, you two sitting close to each other on a sofa, almost cuddling. You let your head rest on his shoulder and took a sip of your drink, “thank you Byeongkwan, I swear every moment I spend with you feels like the best moment ever”.

He giggled and caressed your hair, “(y/n), let’s have fun like this many times from now on, okay?”

[lokis-scepter-101]

Loki’s darling chapter 10

Taste?

"J, There's no way in there. Unless you're going to break in which I won't be a pa-" Bruce stopped talking when I opened the door pressing the  play button. I stepped into his workspace.

"Where did you get that? I've been trying to get that for awhile now." Bruce didn't waste time running to his computers.

"I have my ways." I smirked.

"Okay, What do you want to do?" I sat on Tony's chair laying my feet on his desk.

"Maybe we should get the team new suits?" Bruce suggested.

"Hmmm, That's a good idea." I said thinking.

"But?" Bruce asked weirdly.

"I was thinking of something else, Something that will impress Tony that way I or we can get access here." I turned around in the chair.

"Oh my god." Bruce started tearing up.

"What?" I asked concerned looking around.

"It's just been awhile for me being surrounded by smart people. I was worried the people here would lower my iq." Bruce started laughing which I joined in too.

"Okay that's enough, You start with the suits and I'll see what I can do for Tony." I walked around to his sketches.

After looking for things he was working on for awhile, I decided to give up. Nothing here was impressive enough.

"Uh, Friday."  

Yes, J?

"What's the last thing Tony worked on but failed?"

I'm afraid you don't have access to that.

"Is that how you're going to treat me, Jazahra Stark. Tony dearest sister?"

I'll put it on full screen then.

"You're cruel." Bruce stated.

"Excuse you, I am not cruel." I snapped back. I found his recent project, It was an improvement for his suit. He wants to change the speed and ai. Weird.

"Hey, Fri."

Yes, Z.

"Aren't you in Tony's suit."

Not really. I can't fully be in it. His suit shuts down  when I'm fully transferred.

"Were you with him during the Thanos fight?"

Yes, But I got messed up. Errors started showing. Nobody know how to fix it so we went with a half operation which hasn't Mr. Stark yet.

"Okay; Don't you worry fri, I'll fix you." I opened Tony's laptop.

"Even I wasn't able to do it and I have 7 phds." Bruce said while sketching.

"I guess it's going to hurt when I fix it, Huh?" I started looking at the coding. Bruce just rolled his eyes.

"What'cha working on?" I asked still searching for mistakes.

"So I've noticed that Clint and Tasha don't really have any armor, So I'm working on that." Bruce crumbled up a piece of paper.

"But Clint loves sleeveless, Right?" I turned around.

"That's the problem, And Tasha doesn't like to wear heavy armor. Something about weighting to much." Bruce got up and walked towards one of Tony's machine and started pressing buttons.

"What's that?" I got up.

"A bigger 3d printer." Bruce walked to the door.

"I'll leave that to finish up, I'll be upstairs. Tell me when you've given up." Bruce left.

"So when will Loki and the others return?" I asked Friday. "85 hours 15 minutes and 4 seconds."

Okay so we'll skip through this, You're here for Loki and not J's brain. How ever you must know that J managed to find the problem and fixed it now waiting for it to be tested. It's currently Friday evening. J is taking a nap, Prob tired from training with Nat and Wanda.

Earlier

I felt the weight on the bed getting heavier.

"WAKE UP!" Both Wanda and Nat yelled. I jumped up.

"What the hell?!" I pushed them off my bed.

"It was Nat's idea." Wanda pointed to Nat. I turned to Nat and glared at her.

"Come on, Join us to train." Nat pulled me up.

"It's legs and booty day." Wanda crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah, Come along you'll get to see in Wanda in crisis." Nat started laughing losing grip on my hand.

"Fine, I'll join you since you're so desperate." I got up and walked to my dresser.

"It's official, She hangs out with Loki too much." Nat said to Wanda who just nodded.

"Get out, I have to change." I shooed them away.

"Do I have to drink this?" I whined.

"Yes, Now stop acting like a baby." Nat swallowed hers in one hit.

"I'm guessing I need you by my side while playing flip cup." I slowly drank my drink.

"Yes, You should." Wanda stated.  

Currently  (Later)

I heard my alarm. Shit what time is it. I took my phone and turned off the alarm. I checked the text messages.

Loki:

"You better be ready, Darling."

Aren't I always.

"See you in a hour then ;)"

Shit, I only have a hour left?! I rushed to the the bathroom. After I was done taking shower and brushing my teeth. I put on some underwear. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. I was blow drying my hair. You could see the my curls, I decided to moisturize it a little and clipped a small amount of my hair in the back. I put on a peach off the shoulder romper that hat straps around the neck. I decided to only wear my hand chain, You wouldn't see my earrings and I don't feel like wearing a necklace plus I want to keep it casual. I put on some lipgloss. I never really used make up, Only because I can't put anything besides mascara and lipstick and there are so many things I didn't even know existed. People who can put on make up nicely have my respect. I put on some brown leather sandals that matched my purse. I walked out and made me way downstairs. He should be here any minute.

"You look ravishing, Are you ready to leave?" Loki wasted no time asking, The minute I stepped foot in the room.

"Yes." I walked towards him.

"Uh excuse me, Where do you think you're going young lady." Tony crossed his arms. They just came from their mission. Peter was knocked out on the couch and Thor was already looking for food.

"We are going out." I crossed my arms as well.

"Uh why?" Tony asked confused.

"Because we want to. Stop acting like her dad." Loki said serious. Tony just rolled his eyes.

"As friends right?" Tony asked.

"Loki only loves his bed and his daggers, Tony." Steve shouted from the kitchen. I just gave him a duh expression.

"Have her home by 10." Tony said waving.

"There's a present for you in your workspace." I walked away but could hear Tony shouting

"You better have not been there."

We stepped in the car. Loki changed his outfit with his magic. He was wearing a black jean washed jacket with a casual white top underneath, He rolled the cuff the matching jeans trouser. He was wearing white hi tops. This man is taking risks.

"A picture lasts longer." Loki looked at me for a moment before looking forward again.

"You look handsome." I give him a peck on his cheek. I noticed that Loki's driving was good.

"How come you're good at driving, Isn't horses the best transportation there?" I turned around to face him.

"First of all we have flying carriages that requires no work only steering it where you want it to go."Loki said sassing me.

"Thor use to bring me to the compound but he was a bad driver so I took upon me to drive us without getting us killed." Loki replied.

"So, Where are we going?" I went closer to him.

"A fun park thing, I saw an ad somewhere and knew you'd like it." He said smiling.

"Aren't I lucky." I wiggled my eyebrow a little to much.

"Stop doing that." Loki laughed.

"If it's making you laugh then I won't." I said shrugging.

"Shit, I left you with Steve too long." Loki stated dramatic leaning over the wheel.

He took me to a carnival. We had fun on the Ferris wheel. I even managed to get a picture of Loki smiling and one with the both of us (Pic of Loki alone top). We played a few games but we were a little too good at them for example the one where you have a target to shoot and you have four tries. We got it all four times. But I guess it's good, I got a big fluffy duck teddy. We really had fun and too much sugar.Loki handed me my ice cream.

"What about you?" I gladly took the ice cream.

"We shouldn't have to much sugar, I still want to take you out for dinner." Loki and I started to walk away from the crowd.

"Who said I'll share?" I pouted. While walking side by side I could feel Loki's fingers slowly reaching to mine pulling back. He's probably scared. I intertwined our fingers. Loki was slightly shocked.

"Don't act surprised, You know you want it." I teased him.

"I'm not." He kissed my hand while it was still intertwined with his causing me to blush. We stopped at a quiet place.  Loki came in front of me, He rested his hands on my waist. He just stared at me slightly smiling. We were so close to each other, He made me nervous. I almost forgot how to eat ice cream, Yes that nervous. His eyes we fixed on me. I licked the ice cream slowly, He smirked a little.

"Taste?" I held the cone to him.

"Sure." Loki licked his lips. His face came closer to my face, He placed his lips on mine kissing me gently. I melted into the kiss. I moved my free hand to his chest up to his neck, while he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist to secure the kiss.His lips were soft and warm against my cold one. He was kissing me slowly which drove me crazy. I kissed back following the rhythm of his sweet lips. His cologne gave off a woody, Forrest smell. He laid a last peck on me lips before pulling away, His hands still wrapped around my waist.

"You might want to finish your ice cream quickly before it melts." Loki said smirking knowing the effect he had on me.

We went to a comfy burger shop. The booth we were seated at had a big window showing us the amazing view.

"The view here is amazing." I said in awe while looking outside at the incredible view.

"It sure is." Loki said mischievous. I looked down to see if my romper was hanging low, It wasn't.

"I'm not talking about your amazing breast, I'm talking about your beautiful face." Loki put his hand over mine. I could feel my face getting hot. I already knew so much about him, It didn't feel right not telling him this.

"Loki, I lied about something." I bit my lips, His expression changed immediately .

[ifourmindbeso]

A very, very Merry Christmas

Anonymous asked: Dear Bering and Wellser, I am your secret Santa. What is your dearest wish for this lovely season? I can provide fic of a fluffy or angsty flavour, and will endeavour to write to any prompt you might like to give. Ho, ho, and additionally, ho. Santa ;)

Hey there, Santa — Every year I keep hoping I won’t need to say “please, no angst; the world’s angsty enough as it is”… but every year, here we are again, surrounded by upheaval and uncertainty. As for a prompt, then, what I’ll tell you is that the brilliant poet Mary Ruefle once titled an essay “Someone Reading a Book Is a Sign of Order in the World.” Interpret that idea, or whatever constellation of ideas it represents, as you prefer… or ignore it completely and go with mistletoe! Menorahs! Mangers! It doesn’t matter to me, as long as it’s Bering and Wells. And anyway, I’m already grateful to you, whichever nerdsbian you are, for being a part of this tenacious little fandom. This little fandom that is so big-hearted: it’s a gift in itself.

Merry Christmas, Bering and Wellsers, and to you, the lovely @apparitionism​. This piece starts with the prompt above, but quickly goes off in a direction of hopelessly ridiculous. I don’t know where the inspiration for this came from, but part of it was definitely an illustration from the lovely @foxfire141​ on tumblr. I asked if she would consider drawing something for this piece, and she provided the delightful illustration that, if I have done this right, should appear in the appropriate spot in the story. I have to thank her for her incredible work on this, and for her incredible talent. It has added to this piece in a way that I couldn't have imagined.

This is a sort-of sequel to my previous fic, ‘Aye, Zombie’. If you haven’t read it, you probably need to know that the Myka in this fic (and Claudia, Pete and Artie) grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Myka is somewhat foul-mouthed but has a good heart, despite her somewhat questionable past. Helena is the HG Wells, who came forward in time because Mrs Frederic told her that Christina would die if she didn’t. Christina consequently lived to old age. I think that’s all you need to know, but you could always go back and read Aye,Zombie, if you fancy some unintelligible Irish-isms and questionable humour.

Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race. HG Wells

“Now, you see, love. That’s what I don’t get. You wrote that thing about the bicycles, not Charlie, right?”

“Yes,” she said, patiently.

“So your great words to the world are that when you see someone on a bicycle, that gives you hope for the future of the human race? What about seeing someone with a book? Surely that is the thing that makes you think that, all right, maybe we aren’t going to explode in a nuclear apocalypse or die from extreme weather caused by global warming. Because people read, and they learn.”

“Well, I suppose I see what you mean,” she said, thoughtfully, looking far too fucking adorable in my opinion, “but a bicycle is a statement all of its own. It means that the person riding it prefers to travel under their own steam. Whether it’s for personal fitness, for the feel of the wind in their face, for the sake of the planet – it’s usually a good reason. A book – well, it can mean a multitude of things. If the book is the bible, well, I’m sorry to say it, but the person reading it could be wonderful, or they could be terrible. Christians come in all sorts of flavours. Evil being the one we’ve seen the most of throughout history. The book could be Mein Kampf. And again, the person reading it could be studying it, to learn about history so as not to repeat it, or they could be reading it to repeat history. Do you see what I mean?”

I looked at her, and I think my jaw fell open a little. After years of marriage – an idea I would have laughed about only a few years back – she still managed to surprise me.

“Do close your mouth dear, you look like a frog that someone’s trodden on,” she said, fondly.

I rolled my eyes. We might be in the 21st century, but my Helena was one of a kind. Victorian to the core. I expected her to say ‘spit spot’ and ‘chop chop’ at times, and then remembered that was just one of my fantasies. (I mean, Julie Andrews is hot, whether she’s in her twenties or her seventies.)

“Are you ready?” Helena asked, as we got onto the plane.

“I’m fine,” I said, scowling slightly. I hated travelling at the best of times, but flights like this – commercial flights – were the worst. You had no control, you were corralled like animals, you were shot if you moved an inch out of place… okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it certainly felt that way. I could feel the watchful eyes of the air marshal on me and the other passengers. Thank Christ we were in First Class. At least that gave me enough room to stretch out and the attendants tended to be a bit more polite. Mrs Frederic had agreed to ship me first class after the first flight when things had gone a bit… haywire because of PTSD. But sure I’m fine now. Honest.

I drained a glass of Bushmills before we even took off our coats.

The retrieval we were going on was a simple one. People in Flippin, Arkansas were turning into their favourite foods. Like walking, talking muppet puppets in the shape of fries or a bowl of their favourite soup or a walking burger. Pete and I had arm-wrestled for this retrieval. I won, but I promised I’d take lots of pictures.

Sometimes life in the Warehouse made sense. Sometimes it really didn’t, and you had to take advantage of those times, I thought, because otherwise you would take it all too seriously and go batshit crazy.

I drank a few more shots of Bushmills, studiously ignoring Helena dropping a sleeping pill into one of them. She seemed to think that the ‘B A Baracus’ approach was the best way to get me from A to B safely. She might have been right. I had dreams about dancing ice cream cones and that time we all burst into song because of an artefact. It was not pleasant, I can assure you. Helena Wells, despite her many fine qualities, is entirely tone deaf, and Pete sounds like a bullfrog when he tries to sing. Thankfully the rest of us managed to drown them out in the ensemble pieces, but their solo pieces were… ugh.

I woke to Helena gently shaking me awake, touching my left shoulder. We had come up with a code after a few too many attempted punches of her poor face. She had great reflexes, though, and I’d never actually landed a punch on her. Left shoulder meant everything’s fine. Right shoulder meant there was trouble and to grab weapons. Anywhere else on my body – that meant it wasn’t her, or anyone else I trusted.

I wiped my face with a wet wipe before retrieving my bag from the locker and I filed out dutifully with the rest of the cattle. Our Secret Service badges got us past the security on the other end quickly, a fact for which I was grateful. Who wants to be stuck in an airport a few days before Christmas with the entire human race crowded around you? Nobody, that’s who. The entire place smelled like feet.

“Shall we check in first before we go to find our walking foodstuffs, darling?” she asked, and I was once again struck by her other-ness. She was a part of this century now, but a walking anachronism at the same time. When I met her she did a great impersonation of a human from this century, but since we became a partnership, she didn’t seem to want to hide her true self as much. I liked that, a lot.

“We should check in,” I said, wearily. “I hate travelling love, why can’t you invent a transporter? You said you made a shrink ray, didn’t you?”

“I did, but making a teleportation device is somewhat of a challenge, even for someone with my intellect. If you do as they do in your Star Wars, you disperse someone’s molecules and send them somewhere else with the aid of some unknown force. But are those people still themselves when they come out the other end? One misplaced atom could turn you into a yeti, darling, and I really don’t think our wedding vows would cover that sort of mishap. I can handle a certain amount of body hair, but that’s just a little too much for my tastes.”

I made a harrumphing noise at her, and we made our way by cab to the hotel, which was the usual Warehouse style – small but clean, close to town but not in the centre. The check-in took approximately a week and a half, or so it seemed to my somewhat grumpy self, but as soon as we had keys, we dumped our bags off, showered quickly and changed, and went to find our victims. I brought my digital camera - for purely professional reasons.

“Agent Bering, Agent Wells. It’s a pleasure to have you here in our little corner of the world.” It was the Sheriff, the fella who’d called for help with this bizarre phenomenon. He got us, ‘Secret Service’ agents.

“I didn’t like that Flippin airport much,” I said, in my best vaguely-American accent. He laughed loudly.

“You got a great sense of humour, Agent,” he said, thumbs tucked into his belt-loops, his impressive belly jiggling as he laughed. He looked a bit like Santa Claus, but without the beard.

“So, this is the weirdest thing we’ve ever seen, even in a town with a name like Flippin,” he said, scratching his head under his Sheriff hat thingie. “The weirdest thing that’s happened here is when Jerry Dorsey married his future mother-in-law instead of his bride-to-be, and that was like, thirty years ago.

“When did it start, Sheriff?” Helena asked smoothly, not bothering to try to disguise her accent. Her American accent was terrible, so I was relieved.

“You aren’t from the States?” he asked, frowning. “I thought Secret Service had to be ‘Murican.”

“I’m a special liaison from Scotland Yard,” Helena said, lying through her teeth. “Emily Lake, at your service.”

He smiled at that, tipping his hat.

“A pleasure, Ma’am. We don’t get many of the President’s people down here, so I’ll admit to a little scepticism when I saw you were coming. As to when it started, well, Billy McIntyre turned into a doughnut about… 3 days ago. Every day since, we’ve had three or four people try to come into the station. As if we can help them. I mean, how am I supposed to turn a doughnut into a human?”

“They tried to get into the station?” I asked, intrigued.

“You ever seen a six-foot wide doughnut try to walk through an ordinary doorway? Funniest damn thing I ever saw,” he said, letting out a high-pitched giggle that startled me so much I almost shot him. As it was, I stared at him, trying to work out what the fuck the noise was.

“It does sound very amusing,” Helena said, in her rich voice, touching his arm to distract him from my confused, startled face. “Now, Sheriff… Adams, was it? Could you take us to the victims, please? And then we’ll visit the local eateries to see what each person ate in the days before their… um, metamorphosis.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling at her. She was always a charmer, my Helena. I don’t know how she did it, but she charmed the knickers off anyone who looked at her for more than a few minutes. The only person I’d ever met who was even a little bit immune was Mrs Frederic, and even she had a soft spot for Helena, though she wouldn’t admit it.

I had to seriously get a hold of myself when we stepped into the sheriff’s station. We stepped into a back room, where I assumed they did their morning briefings. There were a variety of people there, all looking like they were wearing costumes of their favourite foods. Unfortunately, those people were the costumes. There was a man in the corner who was the 6ft-wide doughnut, and a woman in front of me (I assumed, because the muppet was wearing lipstick) who was a box of fries from a burger restaurant. And a dude who was a large bowl of phō, which I found even more hilarious than the others, because every time he moved, he spilled the contents of the ‘bowl’ everywhere.

We had chicken and waffles, an egg salad sandwich (and Jesus, that fucker must have been the dullest) and a tall man who looked like chunks of tofu with sesame seeds on it. It seemed even the vegans weren’t immune to the effects.

I kept what I thought was an admirably straight face as we questioned the food-people. No-one had been to the same place – that would have been too easy – but they had all eaten at various restaurants and fast-food haunts during the past week, so we made a list and split up, checking each one with artefact spray to see if anything reacted. I got strange looks from people at the diner and the Vietnamese place, and I’m sure Helena did at the burger restaurant and the large dining section at the mall. But when we met later that afternoon, we had nothing. Nada. Niente. Bubkiss. Or as we say in Belfast, fuck all.

“For the love of Christ,” I sighed. “How long are we going to be doing this? I’m fucking starving, and I don’t want to eat anything in case I turn into a giant Chicken parm sub.”

Believe me, I have no desire to become a walking kale salad,” Helena said, sighing in that long-suffering way of hers. “But we have to get to the bottom of this. It hasn’t had any negative effects as such, or at least not yet, but it could. What if one of them gets too hungry and tries to eat another? What if they really taste of the food they’re… sporting?”

“That could get a bit… unfortunate,” I said, my mind drifting back to when Helena and I met, against the background of a civil war and a zombie invasion. Sure it sounds romantic now, but when you watch your neighbours eating each other’s children, it’s… not so much.

“To say the very least,” Helena said.

We went back to the sheriff’s station and talked to the people some more, jotting down dozens of different locations, places they’d visited, people they’d seen. It was a small place, Flippin, with less than 2000 residents, so those places overlapped. A lot.

“We should go to each location and rule them out one by one,” Helena said, studiously arranging them in geographical order.

“Should we split up, or go together?” I asked.

“Together is safer, but apart means we cover more ground. My thought is that we do it apart, because things aren’t exactly dangerous. Or at least not yet.”

I nodded. We took each other’s hands for a moment, squeezing, just for comfort, and then we split up.

I went to visit the local DMV office, the postal office, a home depot-type store, and a general store. There was no dice. Nothing unusual, other than that the town was still called Flippin. Oh, and they reckoned they were a city. There were 17 thousand people in the tiny section of Belfast that I lived in when I was younger. That was a real city, and not even a big one. Flippin was not a city. Americans, am I right?

I got back to the sheriff’s station and was informed that two more people had shown up. One was a man who had turned into a roast chicken. His face was on the breast side, startled eyes with giant muppet eyelashes fluttering in confusion. He must have been balding in his human guise, because there was a ratty crown of hair that went slightly more than halfway around the body of the chicken. I took down the details of where he’d been, doing my best not to laugh, and then interviewed the other person, a woman who had become a hamburger. It was hard as fuck not to laugh at that poor girl, because her top lip was a slice of cheese, and her bottom lip was a burger. Both of which had lipstick on them, in case we should accidentally mistake the walking burger for a male walking burger. She was trying not to panic, and every little breath made her cheese lip flutter in the wind, and made me have to fake a coughing fit because I was dying.

I took some photographs, for want of something better to do, and married up each food-person with their human photographs, sending it all back to Claudia. For professional reasons only, I assure you. And then I started to worry, because Helena had less ground to cover than I did, and she was nowhere to be seen.

I called her phone, but there was no answer. I did start to get a bit worried, then, so I called Claudia on my Farnsworth.

“Hey, Sir Mykes-a-lot. How’s it going there in crazytown?” It was nice to hear another Irish accent, I will admit. The Warehouse has four of us, but it’s rare to meet the Irish while out and about in the field. I mean, I’ve met those who claim to be Irish, but 23 generations back doesn’t count. Especially not if you can’t pronounce your own name. (I’m talking to you, Ni-am.)

“I’m grand, darling,” I said, rubbing the spot between my eyebrows. “My fair lady has disappeared though, and you know it’s not like her to not answer when I call.”

Claudia’s eyes narrowed. She did indeed know that Helena wouldn’t make me worry unnecessarily.

“Let me track her,” she said, already typing away furiously.

There was a silence, and I got a little alarmed, I will admit. But then she spoke, her forehead all crinkled up.

“She’s in town. Heading your way, actually. But the signal… it’s like it’s there, but it’s not? It’s almost transparent. There’s no setting in my system for something to show up transparent. I call magical hijinks, Mykster. She’s heading up main street now; should be with you in a minute.”

I nodded.

“Thanks, kiddo. See you soon,” I said. I made a mental note to buy her something tasteless before I left town. I was pretty sure somewhere like Flippin would have some really tasteless tourist shite. My favourite thing Claudka had bought me was a Hillary Clinton lighter, where Hill’s head flipped back and flames came out of her neck. I had managed to get her a Pope Pez dispenser in a little Catholic shop in a town near the border, and was still trying to top it.

I went to the door of the station, peering out into the dark. There was a figure approaching, but it didn’t look like Helena. It didn’t look human. I took a deep breath, my heart thundering in my ears. It stepped closer, and then into the light of a streetlamp. It was… a hot dog. A walking, presumably talking, hot dog. Another unfortunate victim, I assumed, looking around behind it for Helena.

As it put its weird muppet feet on the first step up to the station, I noticed that it was a girl. Due to the ketchup in the shape of a mouth. And the long hair that covered about a third of the length of the dog. The poor girl had huge brown eyes, and dark eyebrows drawn into a scowl, and then she stepped closer.

“I swear to all that’s holy, if you laugh at me, we are getting a divorce,” my wife said, muppet eyelashes fluttering in annoyance.

I am not proud to say that I immediately laughed.

I had to be lifted from the floor by two burly sheriff’s deputies, who kindly carried me to the bathroom. I was laughing so hard that I was close to losing control of my bladder. Even as I was sitting on the loo, I was still laughing so hard that I pulled two muscles, one on my back and the other on my abdomen. Tears streamed down my face and I howled with pain, but still I laughed. It took me forty-five minutes to stop myself from laughing, and even then, I started again each time I saw my own face in the mirror. Eventually I was calm enough to send a message to Claudia.

“SOS. Helena is hot-dog. Helena pretended her favourite food was kale salad. I may need an artefact to be sent that takes away my ability to laugh. Divorce proceedings imminent.”

I made my way out of the bathroom a little while later, finding the muppet version of my wife talking to Sheriff Adams. She was trying to coax him into doing something, I thought, because her stubby little muppet hand was on his arm and her giant muppet eyelashes were all a-flutter.

I beat a hasty retreat into a nearby office until I calmed my hysterics.

The second attempt was no more successful. I thought of the saddest things I’d ever seen, tried to turn myself into a PTSD-haunted robot by thinking about things I’d done in my past, but still… muppet Helena took me down effortlessly.

Eventually I was able to speak to her without laughing (much) and we determined that there were two places where she might have been caught up in the artefact’s effects. I continued to say ‘artefact’s effects’ after that because each time I said the words ‘food muppets’ she glared, and she looked even funnier than she already did.

Hot-dog Helena had onions and mustard down one side of the sausage. I don’t know why that made me laugh harder, but it did.

I fled the station, delighted beyond measure to be able to leave my wife’s side. I could not control myself, and I knew that I was skating close to the edge of divorce and/or death by muppet smothering. I kept breaking out in hysterical little bouts of giggling, and I knew I must have looked a sight, the tall Secret Service agent who occasionally starting cry-laughing over her muppet wife.

I visited the seedy side of Flippin, finding a small illegal casino-type operation that Helena had visited, and used the artefact spray to douse everything that didn’t move. And some that did. Nothing sparked. The next stop was the town hall, where a number of people on the list seemed to have been. I visited the mayor, a young attractive redhead, who urged me to leave a Christmas wish in the jar on her desk. Something tugged at me, then, because one thing I have learned as a Warehouse agent is that wishes have power. I sprayed the jar with the goo-spray, and it sparked. It sparked a lot. I grabbed the thing, relieved, and thanked the Mayor, who looked at me in confusion when I told her I needed to take it away, for National Security reasons. I swear, you could poke someone in the eye in this country and say it was for National Security, and they’d ask you to do it again.

I brought the jar back to the station, walking along absently, giggling occasionally to myself, when I suddenly realised that I was… different. My arms seemed shorter, and… yes. There was something dripping from behind me.

Now before you get all gross, there was a trail of marinara sauce behind me, mixed with cheese. Mozzarella, a little cheddar, and parmesan. When I tried to look down, I couldn’t. My eyes were widely spaced, I’d realised, and my mouth was way further from my eyes than it used to be.

So, I was a walking chicken parmigiana sub. Because unlike some alleged kale-lovers, I told the truth about my favourite food.

I sighed, trying to take my phone from my pocket, but my pocket was gone, under a pile of bread, I had to assume. I had an urge to try and pull some of the bread off and eat it, because I smelled really nice. But then I thought… there’s always a downside. And how do you explain that you’re missing a limb or a rib because you ate part of yourself when you were a sandwich?

I knocked on the door of the station, and a startled deputy let me in. He managed to keep his face straight, to his credit.

“Can you grab me my kit from the other room, son?” I asked him, vaguely aware that I had a bouncing crown of curls that had just drifted into my eyeline as I moved. I wondered exactly how ridiculous I looked, and stood there, waiting. The young man came back, his face purple, and I asked if he would take out the goo cannister.

Before I dunked the jar, I asked him to take a picture of me. I’d taken approximately 43 thousand of Helena, already, and turnabout was fair play. He did so, still managing not to laugh in my face, and then I dunked the thing. It hissed and it sparked, and still… marinara sauce dripped onto the floor.

“Shite.”

The fella ran off, howling, as the giant chicken sub swore. I didn’t blame him.

I went into the room where the rest of the food-afflicted were, finding Helena reading a book, holding the pages down with her muppet-fingers. I waved at her with my muppet fingers, and she laughed, and she laughed.

And she laughed.

It was possibly the stupidest thing that had ever happened in my life, and that included fighting with a group of inter-dimensional crime lords who started a zombie outbreak. It was hard to be professional about it, I had to be honest. I knew that, because there’s always a downside, it was potentially much more serious than it appeared – which was, of course, not remotely serious. I challenge you, however, to do any better, when faced with a roomful of muppet foodstuffs.

Having tried the obvious solution, to neutralise the artefact, I knew I had to contact the team. But my cellphone was somewhere in the in-between, I supposed, along with my Farnsworth. I grabbed Helena, and we made our way ponderously into the other part of the station, searching out the Sheriff. Sauce and cheese sloshed behind me as I walked.

Once Sheriff Adams stopped laughing, he set up a video conference with the Warehouse. I would have done it myself, but my arms were too short to go around my giant chicken sub body, and I couldn’t reach the keyboard.

Helena laughed about that until she wept ketchup.

We got no sense out of Claudia, none at all, and the poor girl’s mascara was everywhere, so I yelled for Arthur, and he, thankfully, just scowled at us.

“You both got whammied?”

I tried to shrug. It did not work, given that I appeared not to have shoulders.

“I found the artefact and neutralised it. I was wearing gloves, Arthur. But you know how these wishing artefacts are.”

He scowled harder, his eyebrows scrunching up like scary caterpillars, and he said nothing for a moment.

“Go sleep. Get some food. It can’t get much worse, I wouldn’t think. So eat something and sleep, and we’ll research tonight, and we’ll come back to it tomorrow.”

“All right then,” I said, rolling my eyes. Or trying to. I dread to think how it actually looked. Could my eyes even move? I wasn’t really sure; the perspective made everything look weird.

We went back to the room where the other foods were hiding out, and the Sheriff agreed that he’d get us some food, since we had neutralised the problem but were still stuck. It couldn’t hurt, right? We had pizza, all of us, and it was amusing to watch an eight-foot-wide pizza eating a pizza. The sheriff got us a load of yoga mats and big blankets, and we all settled down to sleep in our various food guises. When I lay down, my sauce stopped dripping everywhere, but the poor dude who turned into phō had to sit upright so he didn’t drown us all.

When I woke the next morning, I tried to jump up, and ended up just flailing like a turtle on its back. I had no idea where I was, I was trapped and I was ready for murder. Thankfully, I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Helena’s muppet-self. That brought me from murderous to hysterical in seconds, and I lay there, helpless, legs and arms flapping as I tried to flip my sandwich-self up off the yoga mat.

“I’m normal again!” someone shouted, and I redoubled my efforts. One of the burgers helped me to my feet, and then I helped Helena, who was not exactly talking to me, to her feet. We turned and found that Steve, the giant pizza, was now just Steve again.

“We have to eat the food we’re craving!” Helena and I said in unison, and then we tried to high-five, missing spectacularly and ending up on the floor in a mess of mustard, onion and marinara sauce. It took the phō guy, Mr Egg Salad, and Doug the Cheeto to get us up off the floor, by which stage we were covered in various sauces, but triumphant.

The sheriff sent out a bunch of his deputies to fetch the requisite foodstuffs, and we took a sly picture of ourselves and the other victims to hang up at the Warehouse. One delicious sandwich (or hot dog, or potato snack, or burger) later, we all sat against the walls of the huge rooms, waiting for the magic to happen.

It took a few hours, and we were all terribly bored, but keeping ourselves going by chatting about Christmas and going home for the holidays, when there was a popping noise from Doug’s corner, and he turned from Cheeto to human. A few seconds later Phō turned to Phil, and I turned back into me. Helena, who’d eaten her hot dog slowly while pretending to hate it, was one of the last to turn back. Finally, there were a roomful of sheepish people staring at each other and wondering what to do next.

Helena, thankfully, got her human brain back quicker than I did. I was thinking about going to find another chicken parm sub, to be honest, because it had been delicious. But she stood, waved her badge around, told them all we’d been exposed to toxic gas that caused hallucinations, and one by one, our former foodstuffs made their way back to their families.

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose,” she said, sniffing, pointedly not looking at me.

“I suppose. It’s a terrible shame we have to get divorced, though. I was just getting used to being married to a Brit.”

“Hmmph,” was all she said, her arms folded, but I could see from the set of her shoulders that she was relaxing. I realised I might get out of this flippin’ town with my marriage intact, and I grinned.

We gave the Sheriff and his staff a non-disclosure agreement to sign, and gave them the usual rubbish about hallucinations and toxic gas, and they all nodded, shaking their heads. We went back to our hotel and tossed a coin for who got the shower first. Helena won, and I sat on the edge of the bed on top of a towel, so as to not get marinara sauce all over the bedding.

I sat there, glad to be human, flipping idly through channels on the television until she came out of the bathroom, naked in all her glory. I grinned at the sight, and she glared at me.

I wasn’t entirely forgiven, it appeared. I took myself into the bathroom, washed up, called the concierge to have our clothes cleaned, and then sat at the small desk to write my report on the incident. I studiously added all the pictures I’d taken, except the ones of Helena. I finished it up, scanning and sending it to the Warehouse, and then I packed up the wish jar - still inside the containment cannister – and the rest of my clothes. Then I gathered up my courage and asked my taciturn wife if she was hungry.

She glared at me as if I was taking the mickey, but I wasn’t, for a change, so she told me stiffly that she would like a salad. I am human, so I was tempted, but I ordered only a salad and did not at any point mention the words ‘hot dog’. I ordered myself a burger and fries and all the fixings, and when it arrived I scarfed it down. When dinner (which was technically lunch, given the time) was done I changed into my usual sleepwear, loose cotton tshirt and shorts, and got into bed. I pulled down the sheets on the other side in clear invitation, and Helena huffed at me, going to the bathroom again, where I heard her brush her teeth. She switched off the light and got into bed with me, and I could feel her begrudging it as she did so.

“There’s another bed, darling. If you’re really that mad,” I said, quietly.

“It’s fine,” she said, back stiff.

I ran my finger down her spine, just once. She made a huffing noise and then turned, putting her head under my chin, her arm around my waist. She was lying on my left arm, so I curled it a little, wrapping it around her body, and she sighed.

“You’re a complete arse, you know,” she said.

“I am,” I agreed. “But I’m your complete arse.”

“Hmm. What a catch.”

“Indeed I am. Catch of the century.”

“You’re a fucking pain, Myka Bering.”

“That’s Myka Bering-Wells, darling,” I said, lazily. “And I love you too.”

It was all right again after that, though she became somewhat frosty when she called the Warehouse the following morning and was greeted only by Claudia’s feet, Claudia herself having tipped her chair back so far that she’d fallen over. (I might have just sent our food-group selfie to her.)

On the flight back to South Dakota, she took my hand, both of us comforting each other as the plane took off.

“I love you, you complete arse,” she said, after a glass or two of red wine.

“I love you too, you gorgeous creature,” I said grandly, after three generous measures of Bushmills.

She sighed, took my hand, and fell asleep.

When we eventually got to the B&B after dropping off the artefact at the Warehouse, we were greeted at the door by Leena, dressed in her usual Mrs Santa costume. She looked spectacular, and Helena looked at me, amused, as I tried not to gawk. I mean, I’m married, not a nun.

Leena gestured at us both to leave our bags, handing us hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, sweet lady,” I said, with a sweeping bow.

“And you are a flirt, Mrs Bering-Wells,” Leena said, winking at Helena. We made our way to the living room, finding Claudia spread out on the sofa, her head in Steve’s lap, and Pete scarfing down a plate of Leena’s chocolate Christmas logs.

“Mykes!” Pete bellowed, jumping up and throwing himself at me. I hastily divested myself of my hot chocolate and accepted his sweaty embrace.

“Bout ye, Pete,” I said, grinning as he lifted me off my feet. He put me down, none too gently, and went to give Helena the same treatment. The look she gave him would have scoured the hide off a pig.

“Hello, Pete. If you put your sweaty hands on me, I will not be held responsible for my actions, do you understand?”

Pete backed away, mumbling about crazy Brits, and I hid my smile behind my hand.

“Hey, girls! We have some lovely pictures of you,” Claudia said, grinning up at us.

“Iks-nay on the ictures-pay,” I said, behind my hand.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. I did in fact grow a sense of humour about all this, eventually. As it turns out, this century has indeed influenced my Victorian sensibilities somewhat. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that, yes, hot dogs are my favourite food, much as I wish they weren’t. That does not mean I will be indulging in them, however. I will continue to eat a healthy balanced diet, unlike my unfairly slim wife, who seems to subsist on all manner of appalling foods,” Helena said, looking at me disapprovingly.

“They’re only appalling to you, darling. I enjoy them, and so does everyone else here. And you know that Leena makes sure we get a balanced diet. It’s just when we’re out in the field that I indulge.”

She shook her head, rolled her eyes – all the usual. I just ignored her and sat down with my hot chocolate. Leena appeared again a few minutes later with some churros which I happily dipped in my hot chocolate. I noticed that my lovely wife did the same, surreptitiously of course.

Claudia, Steve and Pete were talking quietly while a horrifically bad Christmas movie played on the television. I watched Helena quietly. She was beautiful, sitting there with the light of the fire flickering in her eyes. She took the occasional sip of hot chocolate but mostly she was sitting there, looking at the fire, her eyes far away. She was exceptionally beautiful, like a marble statue of a greek goddess.

I heard the piano start up from the other room. Arthur, despite his Jewish roots, has always loved Christmas music. Claudia jumped up. She has always had a passion for music, and this was part of Christmas for her. She wandered off to find him, Steve following close behind.

“Mykissimo,” Pete said, jumping to his feet. “You can’t miss out on the yearly sing-song.”

“I suppose not,” I said, polishing off my hot chocolate. “You coming, love?”

She looked up at me.

“Just a minute, darling. I’ll be right there.”

I smiled at her and left her to it. Christmas was a difficult time for her, I knew. Her little girl had always loved Christmas time. Sometimes she needed a minute, to think about her daughter and how she’d lived to be a grand old age. How she wouldn’t have done, if Helena had stayed in her own time.

Arthur was playing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” and Steve was singing along in a pleasant baritone. He had a nice voice, and I loved listening to him. Claudia came to stand in front of me, pulling my arms around her neck, and I smiled down at her. She was like my wee sister.

When we were done with that song, Arthur started playing “O Holy Night.” It was my favourite Christmas song of all time, and I knew that he knew that. He turned and winked at me, and I smiled back. When I was at a Catholic school in Northern Ireland, there was a lot of emphasis on music, and the harmonies in this song and the way it all blended together had enthralled me then. It still does now.

Claudia started to sing, her sweet, light little voice singing the melody. When the chorus came along, we all started to sing our parts, Steve, Claudia, Artie and me – Pete can’t sing for toffee. The chorus swelled and then it pulled back before the next verse. Claudia’s sweet voice made me smile. We reached the second chorus and I realised that I had goosebumps. I turned, finding Helena leaning against the doorjamb, watching us all fondly. The thought of her in her Muppet body did cross my mind, and I smiled to myself. That image wouldn’t be leaving me anytime soon. But the way she looked standing there in her blue shirt and jeans and bare feet, her hair loose around her shoulders, it just made something in me still for a moment. The combination of the perfect music and the perfect woman in front of me made me feel calm and relaxed for once, and if I’d been the praying type, I might have said a thank you to the baby Jesus or whatever right then. As it was, I just thanked anyone who was listening for giving me these people and this place, and letting me live in endless wonder.

Merry Christmas, everyone !

[pixienoms]

When I travel, I do my absolute best to eat what is offered regionally and what the areas are known for – this is especially true when I travel internationally. I just returned from Scotland, where I tried my absolute best to eat more than my stomach could ever hold. I’ve eaten things I never thought I would’ve eaten, I’ve changed my mind about certain foods, and I had the chance to taste something I’ve been dreaming about eating for years. So, here’s some of the highlights of what I’ve consumed while in Scotland!

First, I have to talk about the Arbroath smokie. This is a smoked haddock that is salted and dried overnight before being smoked in a semi-sealed barrel over a hot fire. It’s a specialty that the town of Arbroath is known for and the methods used to create this date back to the 1800s. I have always wanted to try this since I first saw it on a video that was showcasing various foods from around the world. I love seafood and fish, so this sounded like something I would really enjoy…and I was not disappointed.

Arbroath is a beautiful town on the coast and there are a lot of shops or smokeries that sell the smokie. My friend, Kate, and I were able to buy some and have them for dinner that night. They are delicious without a heavy smoke flavor, they’re not too salty, they’re not super dry, and everything about them is perfect. Just watch out for the little bones since this is served mostly whole with the bones still in it. My only regret is that I wasn’t able to bring any of them home due to a blunder of improper storage while we were traveling around. PS – the smoked salmon we got along with the smokie was absolute perfection.

The next food that I fell in love with was cullen skink. When I first saw this, it was an offering at a pub and inn built in 1739 along Findhorn Bay. The menu didn’t say much aside from it was a soup and the name gives no hints to what it might be, but I wanted to try it – especially after having spent a few hours in some cold rain while beach combing for treasures. I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect.

Turns out, it’s a soup with smoked haddock, onions, and potatoes as well as some herbs and seasoning, but very lightly so as not to overshadow the other ingredients.  It’s also thickened with mashed potatoes that are stirred in. It’s simple and something that might seem like outdated home cooking, but it was perfection. Filling, delicious, tasty, comforting, and warming – I’m officially obsessed with cullen skink and am currently trying to find smoked haddock where I live so I can make this as soon as possible.

I had cullen skink days later at a restaurant and the broth was thickened with cream instead of mashed potatoes. It wasn’t as delicious as it was compared to the first place I had it, but still tasty.

It’s time to talk about haggis. I will freely admit that the idea of what haggis is and how it’s portrayed in America really does this food a disservice. I was so completely put off by the idea of it that I didn’t want to try it. My friend Kate convinced me to give it a try and it turns out I love it.

We had haggis in a variety of different ways – fried into bon bons for appetizers, as a topping for nachos, I had it traditionally served with neeps and tatties (turnips and potatoes) and gravy all over in a pub that was built in 1705, and my friend even had a massive slice on it served on a burger in that same pub.

I’ve heard about Nando’s (Peri Peri Chicken) being talked about a ton on social media. So while I was in the UK, I had to try it. They have a nearly overwhelming amount of ways to have their chicken served up as well as numerous sauces in various degrees of spice to pick from and taste. I did my best to try them all and had a few favorites.

In my opinion, it was delicious food and the chicken was tasty as was their variety of sauces…but I think I’m missing what the obsession is about. I don’t think it’s something I’d go out of my way to eat – especially since there are a vast variety of other places to pick from and limited time for me while on vacation there.

Another thing that was hit or miss for me was gammon steak. It’s a dry salted or brined piece of ham that’s usually served with eggs, chips (fries), and other bits for a meal. I had it at a restaurant and it was too salty to eat – so overly salty that nothing helped to tame down the assault on my tongue. I had it again later on and loved it since it wasn’t overly salty. Would I give it a try again? It depends on the situation. If I’m at a restaurant, I would more likely choose something else from the menu. If someone makes it for me at their home, I’d happily eat it.

One of the few baked treats that I purchased and enjoyed was an empire biscuit. I never had or heard about these before! It’s basically two shortbread cookies with cherry or some other berry/fruit jam sandwiched between them, topped with an icing and a glacé cherry on top. It was tender, crumbly, not overly sweet, and delicious with hot coffee.

During my trip, I had Scottish smoked or cured salmon in a variety of ways – in sandwiches, topping salads, as it’s own dish served with rye crackers, and so much more. I love salmon and it’s one of my favorite fishes to eat, so to have it so fresh and done in various ways that different restaurants serve it was delightful to me.

It’s no surprise that people in the UK love their chips…So much so that Chinese restaurants offer up salt and pepper chips! I was surprised to see this as it’s not something I’ve ever seen offered anywhere else, but it’s delicious! Just like salt and pepper prawns/shrimp or chicken, it’s fried chips that’s then tossed with salt and sliced hot peppers. Chips was also served with lasagna – something else that I’ve never seen before, but Kate made sure to inform me that if there was no chips with lasagna, there would be riots and the restaurant would be put out of business.

Of course, I had fish and chips! The restaurant that I chose to eat this ate served up fish the size of my forearm from elbow to wrist. I tried my best to eat it all, and couldn’t. But it was still delicious and everything you thought it would be with a light, crispy batter that held the malt vinegar in a way that didn’t make it super soggy.

To end this on a sweet note…I had a soft-served ice cream cone with a flake bar. It’s a personal favorite of mine and always a must when I travel to Europe.

For the sake of length, I didn’t get into all the packaged snacks, sweets, and beverages that I had on this trip. Maybe that can be a different write up if anyone is interested in knowing my opinions on what I did have.

To sum this all up, very delicious food was had. Some meh food was had. I have new food obsessions. I have many food recipes I want to try and make to fit the ingredients available to me locally. But mainly everyone should give something a try…even if they think they don’t like it. Especially if it’s a regional specialty because you’ll be surprised that when food is done traditionally, it’s something completely different compared to when it’s made elsewhere in the world. Also an idea of something is not actually representative to how it tastes. I’m sorry for ever being repulsed by you, Haggis!

Culinary Adventures: Eating Around Scotland. When I travel, I do my absolute best to eat what is offered regionally and what the areas are known for - this is especially true when I travel internationally.

[theolivechickken]

Game of Turons

May or may not be missing Filipino food at this point..

April 1

Quick day-trip to Mostar. It’s so beautiful here! We had a fresh little taste-tour of homemade and local cheeses paired with bread, paprika spread, and salami. We had the chance to try a bitter cherry drink (I thought it was pretty sweet and tasty) and also this syrupy cookie. Basically a lunch. We weren’t entirely hungry afterwards, so we grabbed a cone of gelato and sat out on the ruins of the original bridge (Stari Most) and watched as bridge jumpers collected money from tourists and took the plunge. Sugar mama Craven also needed to spend those marks, so she treated everyone to some fine souvenirs. We all got matching bracelets (yay friendship) and also got some matching copper earrings (sorry pat). I could finally see the appeal of shopping since I just had money to throw around and get rid of.

Holy hell it is hot out. A toasty 80-ish degrees. How am I going to survive when I come back home to So-Cal and Phoenix?? I used to think anything below 90 degrees was cold and now I’m perfectly warm and comfortable in 45-50 degree weather. We had an afternoon tour to learn about the history of Mostar and visit a mosque and Kajtaz house. We were also able to climb the museum tower next to Stari Most and talk to a local who had been living in Mostar at the time of the wars and helped to rebuild the new bridge despite the fact that he was held captive in the war, used as a human shield, and lost some mobility in his left arm. He was very friendly and open about his experiences.

Uno ruins friendships. We played an almost endless 2 hour game on the bus ride to Dubrovnik and the only reason we stopped (besides the fact that we were already over the game) was because the sun was going down and we couldn’t tell yellow from green anymore.

April 2

Game of thrones who?? Yeah so I still have yet to finish the show. Please no spoilers and I’m sorry that I might not be able to fully understand the settings here that were used in the show. BUT I WILL SOMEDAY.

I’m in love with Dubrovnik. I love the ocean and the sea. Basically any body of natural water. I love the fresh air and the warm sun and the salty breeze. I love the orange rooftops and the FREAKING castle in the middle of town. I love the cliffsides that are inviting us to dive into the freezing cold water.

I got wet. We went down to the rocky cliffs and I wanted to get close enough to dip my toes into the water. Welp, I did. But then the waves were excited to see me too and just whipped my legs, soaking my pants from the knees down. No worries though. There’s still enough time in the day to lie out on the rocks and let them air dry. And that’s what I did.

Please sir let me go kayaking. We still had time to kill and figured why not? It was such a challenge to figure out how to get down from the castle and streets level to the pebble beach area. We finally got down and the guy was like please don’t, I’m trying to close up shop for the day. It was 3:30pm. There’s still plenty of “day” but I guess he’s the boss of his own hours. We sat on the little pier overlooking the water and watched as the last few kayakers paddled back to shore and turned in their gear. We also saw Patrick at the top of the tower across the water! He came down to meet us at our spot. We also saw a youngish teenage boy rowing this girl to shore. Hi can I steal your boat? It was super tiny and could barely fit the two of them in it, but I tried imagining how to fit all four of us into it. We observed as he spent the next 10 minutes helping the girl out of the boat and then rowing to his parking spot, securing his boat to the ropes, and then nimbly climbing out to the pier deck. He made everything look so easy and we enjoyed playing with the idea that we’d all fall in the water or get stranded 5 minutes into rowing.

We took the world’s slowest taxi back up to the hotel, but at least he was a safe (unless driving too slow is dangerous?) driver. We changed into our swimsuits, excited to spend time in the pool at the hotel. I think it was old people hour though? I hope we didn’t disturb them too much. Our plan was to hang out in the hot tub but the water was lukewarm?? We sat in somewhat cool water and had jets attacking our limbs from every angle. Not really a grand time but definitely an interesting one. At one point, we gathered hands and prayed to the jacuzzi gods for the 2 seconds of warmth that would happen when the jets would first start up. 100% worth it for those two seconds.

April 3

I like the long bus rides- they are comfortable and prime time for introspection (#feeling inspired). Today’s extended pitstop is in Zadar. Home of the beautiful sunsets, Monument to the Sun, and Sea Organ. In the early afternoon, Patrick, Raine, Aubree, and I walked to the grocery store to pick up supplies for nutella and banana sandwiches (since there was no jelly). We also met up with Kaya and Sara and joined them at McDonald’s for lunch (fun fact: their cola weirdly tasted like bubblegum??)

We had Sara’s sparknotes cool-aunt version of a tour, which ended with us soaking up the sun, watching the rough waves roll and crash, and listening to the wondrous and unique song of the sea organ. We took a snack break to bring back pizza to eat while watching the red-dot sun set behind the voluptuous blue-purple clouds. The sun honestly seemed to slip away so quickly. Live it in the moment, folks. Sometimes it’s not worth it for the instagram. It’s worth it to be present.

We’re addicted to crazy 8 at this point and itching to head back to the hotel to connect to the wifi and destroy friendships. But first, gelato. Since it was late in the evening, our guy piled scoops into our cones.

April 4

Took a lovely nature stroll through Plitvice Lakes National Park! So many waterfalls gracefully cascading down. Such a pretty sight and I could never get tired of it. I just took my time walking through the paths, and at one point Sara encouraged us to spend 10 minutes sitting by ourselves in the sounds of nature. Blissful.

We had lunch outside and tried to not get dust blown into our food or get blown away from the strong winds. We let our food digest as we took a ride on the world’s slowest boat. It didn’t even feel like we were moving- the ride was almost too smooth.

When we arrived at Hotel Park, SaVanna’s mom (and her mom’s best friend) came out and surprised her in the lobby. We all couldn’t help but feel a little butt-hurt because 1. we were all on our periods (maybe Patrick too) and just emotional wrecks in general and 2. we hadn’t seen any of our loved ones for MONTHS and she had received a lot of love via care packages and letters from friends/family, her boyfriend visited her for spring break, and now her mom was here to surprise her for the weekend. Super happy for her but salty that we got slapped in the face with it.

Anyways, hello Ljubljana! Weird full circle. It’s like a combination of everywhere that I’ve visited. It’s got hints of Salzburg/Vienna/Budapest with its architecture, Amsterdam (with its bikes), Berlin (with it’s energy). Feels hip and fun. Had beers, burgers, and bomb conversations for dinner. Such a great time hanging out with the squad along the river and laughing about some of our most embarrassing stories. Afterwards we went back to the hotel and passed ouuuuut (rip crazy 8, maybe we’ll catch ya next time).

April 5

Ljubljana walking tour with another lovely guide! He was such a warm and welcoming soul, and he was very excited to show us around even though it was a wet and stormy day. I had an umbrella, but I still managed to get wet. Nike? More like yikes. Tried to keep my shoes dry but then the puddles continued to rise and my feet were already wet so might as well just go all out and step in the puddles. At the end of the tour, we had a river cruise, which turned into a champagne (booze) cruise courtesy of Katharina showing up to surprise Sara on her birthday :)

Had the most amazing falafel wraps in my life. Went back to the hotel to rest for a bit. Raine took a nap, but I just relaxed in the comfort of my dry, warm bed and watched youtube videos for a few hours.

Later, we ventured back out for dinner (at the same place that we visited the night before) and ended up staying out with the rest of the crew since they were at the same restaurant as us :)

April 6

Goodbye Ljubljana! At least it’s not raining today. One last stop before we return home: Postojna Cave. This cave is HUGE. We had to ride a little tram into the walkable parts of the cave, and I swear it was a 15 minute ride in a little cart on train tracks. It was jerky and weirdly close to the walls and I felt like I was going to hit my head every 10 seconds. Also got carsick on the ride, so it wasn’t the best tour of my life. Still, the caves were pretty impressive. How can rocks look like paper sometimes?? Our tour guide also had fun surprising us and at one point she went to the generator and turned off the lights and it was PITCH black. I’ve been in darkness before, but nothing compares to those few seconds in complete blackness. Everyone was talking and trying to find each other (even as we were standing next to one another to begin with) and I still felt like I was the only one in the area and everyone else was so far away.

At the end of the tour, we walked into a little cave room area where our photographs were up for sale. So that’s what those people were doing when we entered the tram entrance! They were literally all up in our faces with their flash photography and I thought they were trying to capture some famous person behind me or trying to get a picture of my face to document every individual who enters in case there’s a tragic emergency and they need evidence of who went in and didn’t come out, but turns out they were just trying to catch us as off guard as possible for the worst photos in the world lol

Back on the road again = back in my sleepyhead dreamland

We said our final goodbyes to our lovely bus driver Benny (rip cause these goodbyes were so short too). I’m gonna miss that Mr. Bean soul.

Yay for being home before the sun goes down for once! And hello spring in Salzburg! So excited to be here while the weather gods kindly bless us.

[just-hockeythings]

Auston Matthews I don’t need a man Pt 2

Thanks to austonmatty34 for requesting a part two! This has been a great distraction from doing my actual school work for a little while

Part 1 can be found here

Word count: 1,599

“Hey (Y/N) it’s Auston, are you free tonight?”

You stared down at the message on your phone, you couldn’t believe, after all your hours crying over your ex-boyfriend. You thought you should swear off guys for a while, they had been more trouble than they’re worth lately, but this Auston guy seemed like he maybe wasn't too bad. But maybe you were thinking more about how good he looked and not who is actually is.

You were sitting in your room with your best friend staring down at your phone deciding what to say back.

“If you don’t go out with him tonight I’m never speaking to you ever again.” she said, probably noticing the confliction on your face.

“But do I really need more guy drama in my life?”

She stared at you like you were stupid, “Um, yes” she replied, “You need ALL of the Auston FREAKIN Matthews drama in your life. It’s one date! Just think of it as a free meal with a cute guy who cares.”

You rolled your eyes and looked back down at your phone.

“Yeah I’m not doing anything tonight”

You looked at the text on your screen one last time and hit send. You let out a deep breathe and laid back down on the bed.

“It’s just one dinner it’ll be fine, just one date” you muttered under your breath.

“You said yes!?” your best friend squealed. She jumped up on your bed and started bouncing shaking you where you were laying.

“Yes yes I said yes!” you said rolling your eyes and sitting back up.

Just then your phone buzzed with a new message, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

“7oclock tonight? Nothing too fancy ;)”

You looked over at your friend and she was beaming at you. “So what should I wear, you have to help me pick it out!”

-----------------------------------------------

It was 6:45, you were wearing a brand new outfit, sitting nervously in your room trying to think of ways to kill time before Austin showed up. You had chatted back and forth a few time throughout the day and he seemed like a pretty cool guy. You gave him your address not too long ago and you hadn’t really been able to think or really breathe properly since. You weren’t usually so nervous on first dates but you really hadn’t been on one in a while. 7 o’clock finally came and almost right on the dot, there was a knock on your door. You took a deep breath and stood up, checked your hair again in the mirror, and walked over to the door.

You opened the door to find that same tall, fit, brown haired brown eyed boy you had spent the whole day thinking about.

“Hey” he said smiling, “Nice shirt”

You looked down and noticed it was the same shirt that had started your first (almost) conversation.

“Oh thank you!” you said blushing.

“Ready to go?”

He lead the two of you down your steps and out to his car.

------------------------

The car ride was filled with pleasant conversation, laughing, and all around a great start to a first date. Auston pulled into the parking lot of a burger place you had never been to before. He got out of the car and rushed around to grab your door, a perfect gentleman. He placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you towards the restaurant. Usually you might have been a little annoyed at someone you didn’t really know touching you, but there was something about this Auston Matthews that made you happy to be touched by him. Once inside, you were lead to a table and sat down, you both ordered drinks and looked at the menu.

“It would make the most sense to order one pizza to share right?” you asked.

“I was just thinking the same thing” Auston replied smiling.

You argued over pizza toppings for a few minutes but decided before the waiter came back so Auston ordered.

“So if you’re not a Leafs fan and you like hockey who's your favorite team?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but blush a little, embarrassed at the memory of not recognizing one the league’s top rookies of the season. “ Well um I like a couple of different teams and there’s a couple of players I like to watch.”

He nodded taking a sip of his drink. “Not the four goal in his first game rookie though?”

It seemed like he was trying to be serious but you could tell he was holding back a laugh. Your face was reddening but it was as much out of embarrassment but more so from trying to hold in your own laughter.

“Guess it really didn’t make much of an impression on me.” you said playfully, “but that song you have is something else.” It was Auston’s turn to turn red.

“Oh god I was hoping I had found the one hockey fan in the world who has not seen that video.”

The waiter brought out your pizza and your conversation died down a little while the two of you ate. But the conversation picked back up as you finished up eating. You couldn’t believe how well the date was going. He was funny and cute and your conversation was never boring. When the bill came he grabbed it up before you could even pretend to try and go for it. After the bill was paid the two of you headed out, again with Auston guiding you out the door with his hand on your back.

You weren't ready for the night to end yet and it seemed Auston felt the same because once you were in the car he suggested to do something else.

“Ice cream maybe?” he asked. You nodded in agreement and he headed down the road. It was a quick drive, he parked in a municipal lot and the two of you walked to the nearby ice cream parlor.

“This is my favorite place.” Auston said as you walked in. “They have the best homemade ice cream, it’s one of my favorite cheat foods”

“I can’t wait to try it” you said, you looked down at the glass checking out the flavor varieties. Auston ordered his cone but it took you a little longer to decide. Auston poked your side urging you to hurry up and make a choice. You finally picked a flavor.

“Thank GOD” Auston teased.

You rolled your eyes licking the ice cream on your cone. “Do you want to stay here, or we could go for a walk it’s pretty nice out” you asked.

“That is a great idea!” he paid for the ice cream and the two of you headed for the door.

The ice cream shop was in the middle of a cute little town, most of the shops were closed but many of the lights were still on and it was a warm summer night. The two of you walked down the street, eating your ice cream and keeping up with the easy conversations you had been having all night. Throughout your walk your hands kept brushing together but you didn’t know if holding hands was something he was going to want to do yet. It seemed like he was reading your mind yet again, because he grabbed your hand and smiled at you. You couldn't help but smile as you finished off your ice cream cone.

You and Auston walked around a little more, holding hands and getting to know each other. But it started to get late and you had work the next morning, but, you couldn’t really be bothered because you were having such a great time. But Auston had an early day too so you headed back to his car, but walking a little slower than you had been earlier. On the car ride back Auston grabbed your hand again, and when you had to let go to text back your friend, he rested it on your thigh. The heat from his hand through your pants gave you a kind of tingling sensation you had not felt in a while. You could feel your pulse quicken but you kept a cool exterior. This ride was a bit quieter than the others had been, but it was a comfortable silence, something you did not experience with very many people.

He pulled up to your apartment building and parked his car. He got out first and opened your door.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” He asked with a bit of a smirk.

“Um yeah that would be great”

He closed the car door behind you and put his arm around your shoulders. It was a short walk to your building so Auston walked you into your building all the way to your door. You got out your keys and turned and unlocked your door. But before you opened it you turned back to Auston.

“I had a really great time.” You said.

“Yeah me too, we should do it again sometime.” You couldn't help but notice Auston kept looking down at your lips. Taking the hint, you stepped forward and kissed him. It was a soft kiss at first, the kind that usually happens after a nice first date, but Auston deepened the kiss. Grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. The kiss was electric and made you feel things you didn’t think you'd feel for a long time. You finally pulled away, a little breathless.

“Yeah we should definitely do this again”  

[mredwinsmith]

Japan’s True Hat Tourney

Coming to Japan, the only “culture shock” that I was worried about was finding a good pickup game of ultimate. Unlike many of you amazing athletes reading this, I never played in college or trained with a team. I’m a pickup player through and through. I started with a crew of friends, orange Home Depot buckets for cones, and fields of patchy, dubious quality in sunny San Jose. By the time I left California, I was playing pickup four times a week—twice on the beach, twice on the field—and running plays as a handler. Nothing made me happier than watching a newbie, some long-distance runner who was still learning how to throw a backhand, streak into the endzone for a point. I loved ultimate, and it had made me a better, more giving person—it had changed my life.  

Online, before my flight to Japan, I was messaging every group I could find about a game. I came up with nothing. Some groups existed, but they were tourney focused machines working their way toward that well-oiled stack and cup play that I had never quite figured out. In the past two years since my arrival, I’ve campaigned—talking to everyone I can, going to social events literally for the express purpose of talking about ultimate—in order to get small pickup games going in Takasaki, the biggest city of our prefecture. It’s two hours on the train for me, but I’ve been able to draw fifteen to twenty people, almost all of them absolute beginners, out into the sun to toss the disc.

Honestly, I came to Japan because life in California had gotten a bit stale. My time on the field was rewarding and great, but off the field, I felt like I was in a rut. I had been tutoring kids for a few years and thought that teaching English in a foreign country would mix things up. It certainly did, but no matter how settled you get in a new place, there’s always something missing. For me, it was always more ultimate.

A couple years after I got here, we were making progress in our pickup games. A bunch of my crew had started to message me regularly, asking when we’d get out again. It made me happy every time people showed up, watching them fall in love with the sport–seeing that first end run, sliding layout, or point scored. I figured it was enough, these five or so games a year.

At least, I did until I met a businessman in my adopted hometown. He threw a shindig at a local restaurant, wining and dining the local foreigner population and asking what he and his friends could do to increase international tourism to our little town. Tatebayashi is fairly beautiful—with sakura blossoms in early April and a few festivals to its name—but it isn’t a draw by any standard measure. There are no world heritage sites here, and the azalea festival, which centers around a walk in the park, looking at—you guessed it—azaleas isn’t quite the ticket for people who want to truly experience Japan. When he popped his question, I was ready.

I took a disc out of my bag and asked him if he’d ever heard of ultimate. “Foreigners love it,” I said, mentioning the Tokyo Ultimate crew (with whom I’d trekked the 3 hours to play a few times), and my own budding disc enthusiasts in and around the prefecture’s capital. “We could have a tournament.” We tossed the disc—and the idea—around for the rest of the night. I already knew what I wanted.

Photo by Shuichi Tsujimoto

There was only one vision that I had for this tournament, only one shining example that I aspired to emulate: Hats, Hops, Hucks. It’s a tourney with hat rules—as in, no hat, no play. If your hat falls off, it’s a turn over. These aren’t normal hats, either. We’re talking fun hats. Massive foam rubber things, or the kinds of hats you buy at Disneyland, wear around the park, and then try to pretend you didn’t actually waste $30 on. My plan was to drop the rules pertaining to hats (too complicated to explain), but to keep the hats–and with them, the spirit of those California games.

This thought wasn’t a passing fancy, though. This was a necessary, intrinsic part of my plan.

To understand why you have to understand something about Japan’s attitude toward sports. From the outside, Japanese sports don’t look like a lot of fun—they look like work. At the middle school where I work, kids come to school shortly after 7 AM and practice before class. They stay after school, too, in nearly all weather conditions, coming even on Saturdays and the occasional Sunday to crank out a few more hours of throwing a ball or swinging a racket. These kids work hard—really hard—and adult sports look much the same. Those well-oiled tourney machines I mentioned before? That’s how they’re trained for all the traditional sports, and if they play ulti in college, they’ve got the same look in their eyes when they see a disc.

Although ultimate is a little more relaxed because of the later stage in life that Japanese people pick up the sport, a game of pickup—no training, no drills, just getting your cleats dirty for the sake of fun—is really hard, if not impossible, to find.

That’s why this tourney had to be different. If we wanted foreigners to come, it needed to be a friendly environment to learn and experiment. It needed to be a tourney that you could come to without a team, but with ten extra pounds of meat on your bones since the last time you laced up. It needed to be a true hat tourney, and it needed real hats. It needed the kind of hats that told the professional players, “hey, we’re here to have fun, remember?” The next day at work, I opened a Word document on my computer and titled it, “Hats, Hops, Tatebayashi. Can we do it?”

It took me months of messaging, reaching out to Club Jr. and talking to my friends, before I was ready to pull the trigger on the tournament. Eventually, Club Jr. settled on a day that they could come out to support us and I went to my man in town. We arranged to meet up, and before long, he had assembled a team of local businessmen. They had watched YouTube videos about ultimate beforehand, and I showed them pictures from my last outing at HHH. “There are a ton of frisbee tournaments here in Japan,” I said. “We must be different—we must be fun. We must have hats.” To my surprise, they understood my broken Japanese, and, more importantly, my reasoning.

Let’s gloss over the details a bit here, but suffice it to say that I spent several hours of every day, from January 5th (the day after my school’s winter vacation) to April 7th (the day of the tourney) messaging people, writing emails, posting to Facebook groups, drawing up t-shirt designs, making banners, clarifying the details, speaking Japanglish with newspaper reporters, and working on every conceivable thing I could do for the tourney. I met up with the guys at other restaurants on other nights and hashed out the details of what could and couldn’t be done.

At one meeting, a special guest member, a fellow ulti player from the capital, mentioned that maybe we could get more players if the tournament became a team tourney—y’know, bring your team and play. Luckily, the guy who had been enlisted to translate for me was more diplomatic than me. What I said was, “if you change it to a team tourney, I’m out.” What he said was more akin to, “maybe we can make the second day be devoted to teams. The first day is hats.” I was okay with that.

After plenty of hiccups and a lot of unexpected spending—prizes for players cost how much?—we arrived at the day. The guys and I chalked the lines ourselves in torrential winds and prayed that it’d die down before the discs started flying.

When the morning of the tournament arrived, the weather was mostly calm, but threatening rain. A cable news team had shown up to interview the players, and another newspaper reporter was walking around with a pad of paper herself. Club Jr. brought us extra tents in case the rain came down as well as the tourney shirts that they had gotten printed for us. When the players arrived, they represented a dozen different races, including 30 or so locals, and claimed true hometowns around the world and local hometowns up to fifty miles away. Sixty people in all ended up coming, from age seven to well over forty. They had heard the message: that this was a tournament for people who didn’t have teams, who wanted a return to the spirit of the game, that feeling of being barefoot in the park with your best friends. They wanted a return to the community of ultimate, where we’d eat barbeque burgers after the winners had been declared.

After tourney BBQ.

They brought their hats, too. Sharks eating people’s heads, local prefectural mascots, hats with spinners and umbrellas, flowers and googly eyes—they were all there. They came to have fun. Even the coach of Japan’s national team, who lives in the capital near where I arrange pickup games, came and brought his family with him. In a pink, flowered hat, he D’ed the only hammer (a low, terribly chosen bullet, cross-field) that I threw in the tourney. The only difference between this and the last time we had played together was that this time, he did it with a smile on his face. People heckled and laughed, they made new friends. Pros had come out and they certainly led their teams, teaching everyone little tidbits of what it takes to go to Worlds, but they still passed to the newbies, the kids, and the ladies (who are sorely lacking in a normal mixed-gender tournament). Games were low-scoring, but every miss was so close you could taste it.

After the tourney, they ate “California style” burgers (I made the closest approximation to In N Out’s spread that I could) and drank beers. The teams mixed and chatted together, some of them staying out until well after midnight. When I had gone before, to another tournament with the local crew, we’d stuck to ourselves. Our team on the field was our team after the game and in the bar after that. I never even learned the names of any of our opponents, let alone what their favorite drink was. This was entirely different, not just for me, but for many of the players, too.

Sitting, drinking with new friends that night, a Filipino player who lived in the neighboring prefecture told me how happy he was to be there. “This is how it is in the Philippines. We all hang out after. You bring your team, but when it’s over, we eat and drink together. I started out with friends just on my team, but every time we went to a tournament, I made more. I used to stay in hotels, but now I can go anywhere in the country for a tournament and stay on someone’s floor. This is what I’m missing here.”

Post-game congratulations–Japanese style (Photo by Shuichi Tsujimoto)

I’m proud to be here as a teacher, and I’m definitely proud of the work that I do on a daily basis, but nothing at school has ever felt as good as hearing that. As of now, I’m preparing to leave the country (three years is a long time to live in a place where you only half-speak the language), but I hope that this tournament will represent the lion’s share of my legacy. In an interview with the TV reporter, one of the organizers said that he wanted people to think of Tatebayashi as a fun town. He wants the name to become synonymous with this tourney, with the fun that can be had here.

Maybe only 60 people came out this year, but in some small way, I changed the social landscape of this place. I changed Tatebayashi the same way that ultimate changed me—bringing true fun and a reminder that life doesn’t always have to be so serious. Here’s hoping that spirit lives on, with or without me, everywhere the game is played.

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