#sweet pickles bus
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Absolute Shameless Lying Edutainment Commercials from the ‘80s
I don’t know why it suddenly got into my head to talk about this, but I just randomly remembered these two commercials I saw when I was very young and what serious BS both of them are. First we’ve got The Sweet Pickles Bus.
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So the actual product here is what I’m pretty sure was an honestly shamelessly overpriced plastic box containing like, half a dozen flash cards with letters of the alphabet. Pretty sure you didn’t even get the whole alphabet. Which is such a huge waste of money. No child wants a plastic box of flash cards, no parent wants to buy that. Wasn’t really a reasonable price either. But that is absolutely NOT what this commercial was selling. What we CLEARLY SEE here is a promise that your box of crappy flash cards is going to be HAND DELIVERED BY SOME KIND OF MUPPET DUCK DRIVING A GIANT PICKLE BUS WHO WILL PERSONALLY PLACE IT IN THE HANDS OF YOU, A SMALL CHILD, AND YOU WILL HAVE A LITTLE INTERACTION. That is something I could, and in fact did, beg my mother to pay for like the snot-nosed little toddler I was until she caved.
And guess what? There was no bus. There was no duck. They just shipped this box of garbage through the regular mail. I think my mother made the really bad call of trying to keep up kayfabe and insisted that the duck was in a hurry and I missed him because I was asleep which gave me a haunting regret for years. And the thing is, it honestly wasn’t that plausible that this was legit. It’s not like, a cartoon duck here. You can customize a van, you can get a mascot costume. This might have been a weird local thing because local ads were a thing back then. Kind of a birthday clown business model, you know? This is why a few years later commercials for toys and board games started really covering their asses with stuff like “game cards do not actually talk.”
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Like yeah, free floating living cartoons are not going to burst out of this cheap game, even a small child should get that, but they absolutely could have had a guy in a duck suit drive a delivery van around. That’s straight up misleading.
The other one popping into my mind today though is freaking Muzzy. Does anyone remember Muzzy? This is Muzzy.
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So like... that really is not, in fact, French those AMERICANS are speaking. That’s not even proper French Muzzy is speaking. This is butchered French gibberish I have to assume was the result of people looking up one word at a time in an English to French dictionary. Transcribing it, we’ve got:
“Je suis, le grand Muzzy.”
“Je suis la jeune fille!”
Literally, one word at a time, that’s:
“I am, the big Muzzy.”
“I am the young girl!”
Even in English that’s super weird and awkward but like... this is not at all how French is structured. This isn’t even something you need to be a native speaker to know, this is like, literal day one high school French knowledge.
First off, I would never, ever say, in French, “Je suis Violet.” I would say “Je m’appelle Violette.” Literally that’s “I call myself Violet,” with the explicitly femme version of the name. “I am” is reserved for like, a type of thing/person you are. Also, adjectives always come after the nouns they describe, and even in the right order, “la fille jeune” kinda suggests that she’s the ONLY young girl. In English you’d say “a young girl” here and that does translate across, so that should be “une fille jeune.” Which is also still just a weird thing to exclaim but at least it’s proper French and not gibberish. I’m not even totally sure what they were trying to have Muzzy convey. Was it a nickname? Was there some sort of small Muzzy he needed to distinguish himself from? Is this some kind of Bigger Luke thing? Regardless it seems pretty clear these tapes were thrown together by someone with just no actual qualifications at all, and they drilled it into a whole generation.
I don’t have any sort of larger point here, just, wow screw these hucksters who plastered ads all over like, Nickelodeon 40 years ago. This is awful.
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That Time I Made My Brother Hide In The Bathroom To Talk To A Girl
word count: 876 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Atsumu x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: spoilers
a/n: this is a continuation of How You Met but can be read as a standalone
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Atsumu was pouting.
Not only had he played one of the best games of his life when he spotted that cute chubby girl from the bus stop in the ranks but during a timeout he had snuck over to your stand and called over the cheering crowd if you‘d wanna grab dinner with him. And you got all bushy again and told him you‘d love to! (Actually, you had only nodded and mouthed “Okay“ but that was a technicality.)
And now this! During the fifth set Bokuto had stumbled when he landed after a spike and crashed into him. Long story short, Atsumu‘s arm was now in a sling and he was stuck in a stupid hospital on this stupid Saturday when he was supposed to wow you with his infinite charm tonight.
Wallowing in self-pity, he threw his head back on the pillow and groaned loudly.
A nurse opened the door, professional concern in her tone.
“Are you in pain, sir?“
“Physically or mentally?“, he asked, eyes still closed.
“Uhm… I see. Well, call if you need anything.“
And she left again.
He wanted to grab his phone to reread your (rather short) chat for the 6th time that day but was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Well, ya look like crap.“
“Samu! What‘re ya doin‘ here?“
“I saw yer incredibly subtle Instagram story. How yer feelin‘?“
“Fine.“, Atsumu mumbled but pointed at his right arm, “Just sucks, ya know.“
Then he sniffed the air and his face brightened a little.
“Did ya bring me food?“
Osamu grinned and took off his backpack to produce mountains of Atsumu‘s favorites.
“Yer the best, thanks.“
But just as Osamu was setting up the little food tray next to his bed, Atsumu perked up.
Through the window of the door he spotted a cute chubby figure currently talking with the head nurse at the reception desk, a bundle in her hands that looked suspiciously like food.
“Ya gotta hide.“
Osamu frowned.
“What?“
“Quick, quick! Come on, hide!“
“Why, what‘s goin’ on?“
“Come on, I‘ll explain later. Hide in the bathroom or somethin’.“, Atsumu urged.
Osamu was way too used to his twin‘s antics to question it much further and so headed towards the ensuite but Atsumu hissed, “Take the food with ya, quickly!“
“Ya gotta be kiddin‘…“
But he picked up the tray and as instructed made his way to the bathroom. Not a second too soon.
Atsumu had just put on his best “beaten hero“ face, filled with sorrow and pain, when the door opened a third time and you stepped in. In the reflection of the window he saw how flushed your cheeks were and how awkwardly you held the bundle. You were just too cute. But he closed his eyes and took a deep theatrical breath before turning to face you.
“Oh, y/n. What are ya doing here?“
“I thought you must be disappointed that you couldn‘t finish the game yesterday and… yeah. Plus, we were supposed to see each other today. I‘m sorry if this is too forward, but I brought some food to help you recover.“
Beaten heroes didn‘t squeak. They didn‘t giggle, nor kick their feet.
Atsumu took a deep breath to compose himself. “No no, yer cute. - I mean, this is very sweet of ya, thanks. Have a seat.“
He nodded to the side of his bed.
“Do you have a tray somewhere?“, you asked, looking around.
“Uhm, no, I think the nurses took it after breakfast. A-and“, he added quickly because it looked like you were about to get up to ask for a new one, “I‘m sure I‘ll be fine without one.“
“Alright then.“, you opened the bundle to produce a large square lunch box. When you opened it, steam rose from the fluffy rice, packed neatly next to the eggroll with sausage, grilled meats, pickled vegetables and fruit.
“Looks delicious.“, he said excitedly and tried to pick up the chopsticks with his left hand. When that didn‘t quite work out he swapped to the spoon but even that he could tell must have looked very awkward.
“Could… ya help me out?“, he asked with a small smile and you nodded, taking the spoon from him and scooping up some rice, then adding some meat on top.
When you lifted it to his lips, your hand was shaking so much that it was difficult for him to catch, so he brought up his left and closed it around yours, to keep it steady. Making eye contact for absolutely no reason but his own personal entertainment of seeing you blush, he held your gaze as he closed his mouth around the bite.
“Oh wow.“, he said while chewing, cheeks puffed and eyes widened in surprise, “This is really good!“
You smiled brightly and relaxed, loading up the next spoon.
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Meanwhile
Osamu sat on the bathroom floor, working his way through the lavish meal he had prepared for his brother, trying not to gag when he heard Atsumu flirting up a storm in the next room.
At some point he got so bored that he swapped the contents of his brother‘s shampoo and shower gel, making a mental list of all the ways Atsumu owed him for this.
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✨ @coffeesncats ✨
#atsumu x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#msby atsumu#atsumu x you#atsumu x reader#atsumu fluff#hq atsumu#haikyuu atsumu#miya atsumu#hq fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x curvy reader
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If you're still taking requests, can you write smut of Toki x F Reader where Toki is home after touring and they haven't seen each other in months? Can you please make it soft and sweet? 🥺
AN: I hope this is up to par with what you wanted! Sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy <3
“Hellos—!” Toki walked into Mordhaus and you all but tackled him, the weight of his body absorbing the force of your impact and his tall frame swaying slightly as you wrapped yourself around your boyfriend.
“Hi.” You whispered into his hair, giggling when he picked you up bridal style and placed kisses on your nose.
“I missed yous.” Toki breathed between kisses.
“Missed you so much, Toki.” You rested your head against his shoulder, looking up at his features—from the awkward angle, he still looked beautiful.
“It ams like she don’t even recogniskes the rests of us.” You heard a smooth, accented voice mutter from behind Toki, and the rest of Dethklok slowly filed into the room.
“I missed you, too, Skwisgaar.” You smiled at him from your place in Toki’s arms, and he rolled his eyes, the faint trace of a smile on his lips.
You wanted to catch up with everybody—really, you did; you’d been so unbearably bored over the course of their tour. As wonderful as it would’ve been to accompany the band, you had responsibilities that needed tending to at home. Not everybody was lucky enough to be a globally worshipped celebrity, waited on hand and foot—despite the offers you had received from klokateers to assist you (mostly due to Toki’s demands that they treat you as if you were in the band yourself) you couldn’t in good conscience allow someone else to do your work for you.
So, you had worked yourself to the bone while Toki was gone, counting down the days until he got back, and though you had missed everybody’s presence, it was Toki you needed to hear from most right now, and it was him you needed to provide your undivided attention to.
When you had exchanged hellos—a hug from Pickles, a grunt from Murderface, etc.—and casual small talk, it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way Toki’s hands felt on your skin, how his fingers, calloused from playing, ran over your waist, and the way his nose nudged your temple when he leaned in to kiss your cheek.
Obviously a little sick of each other after months spent together in the dethbus, it wasn’t long until everybody went their separate ways. Toki, still holding you, carried you into his bedroom and quickly shut the door behind him, grumbling about how he thought he’d “never gets off that stupid bus.”
He put you down gently, turning to lock the door, and when he looked back in your direction you couldn’t help but fling yourself at him once more—now much more passionate and sensual in the privacy his room allowed. You grabbed his face to pull him down to eye level, wrapping an arm around his neck when he leaned forward to deepen the kiss. Your other hand gripped at the fabric of his shirt, before sliding it down to go under the hem and feel the warm skin of his abs. He smiled into the kiss, before sliding his tongue into your mouth. He gripped you by the waist and hauled you over to his bed—for someone so kind and with such a childlike sense of wonder, it always surprised you when Toki displayed feats of strength. You fell back, letting him flatten himself on top of you.
“Thought abouts you every days,” Toki sucked bruises onto your neck, eager to reclaim his ownership over you after so long, “beautiskful girl.”
You moaned, arching your back slightly, head craning back to allow Toki more access to your neck. “Your beautiful girl,” you let out a breathy moan, “all for you, Toki.”
He let out a soft growl, moving down to reach a hand under your shirt and gently squeeze your breasts. You sat up slightly, removing the shirt and pawing at his chest to indicate that it was his turn to strip. He made quick work of it, tossing the shirt over his shoulder and undoing the zipper of his jeans. He leaned back over you to lick gentle shapes over your stomach, the frenzy he felt before subsiding slightly into the urge to make you feel good. You feathered your fingers through his hair, jumping slightly when he sucked on a more ticklish spot just under your ribs.
“Toki…” Your eyes were closed, enjoying the wet feel of his tongue on your flesh.
“Mm?” Toki didn’t look up, still tracing your body with his mouth.
“Need more.”
He pushed himself up on his forearms, looking up at you from his position hovering over your stomach. “More whats?”
“Your mouth. Please?” You asked, eyes open now under heavy lids.
He couldn’t deny such a request, already working to rid you of your trousers. He tapped your hip to silently ask for you to lift yourself up, and he pulled down the remaining fabric on your body in one motion. Almost immediately, he was back on you, not wasting time with further foreplay and diving into your waiting core. You squealed and pulled on his hair, earning a moan in response, the vibrations traveling through your body.
“Tastes good—missed eatings your pretty pussy.” Toki licked a stripe up your entrance to your clit, sucking on the bud. You melted into the mattress, hips bucking into his mouth gently when he repeated the motion before fucking into you with his tongue.
“I’m gonna cum, Toki.” You whined under him, hips squirming with every swipe of his tongue over you, growing close to your climax and feeling your sensitivity spike. He went absolutely wild upon hearing your words, as if the situation were life-or-death, his only hope of survival tasting your cum; he licked up into you, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking rhythmically, creating a pulse effect that had you twisting your hands into the sheets. You let out a shrill scream of his name, coating his chin in your wet.
He licked his lips when he came up from between your legs, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples now. You wiggled, gasping softly.
“Let me—can I go down on you?” You rubbed the back of his neck, watching him lick a circle around your erect nipple.
“Laters,” Toki kissed the canyon between your breasts, “needs all of you nows. Needs you on my cock.”
You almost argued, almost told him that he could feel your mouth on his cock, but then you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your hole, the slick he had drawn from you coating him as he gently pushed into you. You threw your head back with such intensity that it lifted your chest from the mattress, back arched, and Toki used it as an opportunity to kiss over the bruises he had given you earlier.
“So goods,” he panted, “I loves you so much.”
“I love you so much.” You repeated back to him, head foggy with the pleasure he was giving you; you felt the way he pressed into your clit just right with every thrust, grinding into you in a way that heightened the pleasure, making your head swim. He reached between your bodies and replaced the gentle pressure his hips were giving your clit with harder motions from his fingers.
“Never—I’ll never leaves agains,” he promised, voice getting breathier as he neared his own high. “Never leaves you that longs agains.”
You pulled him to your mouth, locking lips again and tasting the desperation and love on each other. He sped up his thrusts, and you cried out when he began to repeatedly push against the spot that made you see stars.
“Cum with me—please, please cum with me.” You pleaded, needing to feel how he throbbed when he emptied himself inside your aching cunt.
You didn’t have to wait long, Toki buried his face into your neck and slammed himself down into you, eager to fill you up and to feel you squeeze his cock when you came around him. His finger left your clit again and he replaced it with his thumb, pressing hard. After a particularly deep thrust, you were clenching down on him, and that was all it took for him to reach his peak; you both let out long sighs of pleasure, whispering each other’s names while his cock twitched deep inside of you, painting you with his load, the combination of your juices dripping between your thighs.
You stayed huddled into each other, trying to remember how to breathe. Toki reached a hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over you and admiring the flush that had spread across your face.
“I missed you so much.” You repeated the statement to him once more, body feeling heavy and light all at once.
“I never wants to leaves you,” Toki whispered, “loves you more than anyskthing.”
You turned to kiss him, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away. “You always come back, though. That’s all that matters.”
“Next time,” Toki kissed your jaw, “you comes withs me.”
You perked up, flattered that he’d want you around for a tour. “You want me to come?”
“Of course,” he stared at you as if it were obvious, “wants you withs me alsways.”
You pulled him into another heated kiss. “I love you,” you broke away briefly before reconnecting, “and I’m so glad you’re home,” you repeated the motion, “and we’re not leaving this bed for a week.”
#toki wartooth#toki metalocalypse#toki wartooth smut#toki wartooth x reader#toki x reader#toki wartooth x you#toki x you#metalocalypse#dethklok
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seventeen m.list
my blog is 18+
taking care of a sick SO
oh, it's love soonyoung + jihoon
how seventeen would wake you up in the morning
seventeen taking care of a drunk SO
magic
drunk voicemails
lace, lingerie, décolleté, oh my!
nights with seventeen
phone calls with seventeen
you're his spoonful of honey
seventeen after a fight
your first i love you with seventeen
seventeen: friends with benefits
reminded of you
kisses with seventeen
kissing you after you apply chapstick
the kdrama you would watch with seventeen
let’s get intimate
the drink you offer seventeen at a sleepover
seventeen taking care of you/making you feel better
seventeen receiving flowers
seventeen with a SO who can’t cook
it’s been a year. you leave a voicemail
one more kiss
seventeen when you ask for space
staying on an apple farm in the korean countryside
seventeen when you leave after sex
trying to study but seventeen distracts you
when you dissociate
social media love
cuddling + some sleeping too
staining the bedsheets (period reaction)
woanders
kisses at the aquarium
seventeen helping you move into your new apartment
to date or not to date
surviving the holidays
neighbors with seventeen
who would love having input on your hair/makeup/nails/clothing
“i’d be ok swapping jackets with you.”
the moment that empties your head
kissing seventeen for the first time
fell first vs fell harder
when you feel undeserving of seventeen’s love
silent treatment
imagine coming home from a weekend away and falling asleep in the car. who would carry you inside…
i don’t understand but i luv u (he loves you)
thinking about seventeen seeing your tattoos for the first time, reacting to them, etc
metro cards and bus stops
showering with seventeen
where he’s left after the breakup
MTL
prefer a clingy/affectionate partner
date someone with a strong personality
hs boyfriend: sneak into your room at night
first to say i love you
little spoon
speaking after the breakup
little acts of love
covers the table
pickles and tomatoes
Yoon Jeonghan
a little slice of comfort
all the kisses - blurb
college soccer player!jeonghan part 2 part 3: smitten
devoted
“i can’t have the person i love this miserable.”
i love you, but i’m still a guest to your body even if you call me your home.”
innocent kisses
meeting his parents - blurb
nap date
photo booths - blurb
“so we’re both paying attention?”
“your birthday is my favorite day of the year.”
2:10am
Joshua Hong
soft/fluff/comfort with joshua
Wen Junhui
“how does your bed sound, hmm?”
Kwon Soonyoung
boyfriend things
"i'm here. it's ok. you can cry. i've got you." - comfort
what fun to be had, the closer you get to the sky
Jeon Wonwoo
book notes - blurb
boyfriend things
parallel play
say his name - blurb
“you’re awake?”
Lee Seokmin
being completely in love with fwb seokmin
he swears the blue fabric of his soul intertwines with your green
thinking about what it would feel like to hear seokmin singing in your apartment
Kim Mingyu
boyfriend things: voicemails for mingyu
hugs with mingyu
mingyu falling in love with you through photography - blurb
mingyu is… what dreams are made of
the everywhere love - "you stepped all over my romance."
Xu Minghao
leaving after sex
Boo Seungkwan
"i heard you met someone... are you happy with them?"
Hansol Vernon Chwe
cuddling
sweet dreams - taking the train to see your parents with your sleepy boyfriend
think about it, ok? - "maybe you should talk to him."
Lee Chan
best friends to lovers - blurb
his car with the windows down in the coolest hour of a summer night
#seventeen masterlist#holdinbacksecrets writing#seventeen reactions#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#seventeen comfort
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Took a bus to Northpoint City in Yishun to do some grocery shopping and to have dinner. Restricted by mum’s limited selection of choices, we went back to Feng Food (台湾味 “丰”). She almost always falls back on her Guan Miao Mian with Specially Marinated Pork Chop (猪排关庙面) as she is not keen to try new foods. A big slab of pan-fried, boneless pork chop sits on top of handmade wavy noodles and pickled cucumber slices in a large blue & white porcelain bowl. If you are in for firm and chewy noodles, do choose this one for a change.
As for me, I typically try not to choose the same dish as mum so the camera has more choices. :D So, here is my Shrimp & Kimchi Fried Rice (虾仁泡菜炒饭) topped with an over easy fried egg. Moving the egg aside, the fragrant and tasty fried rice is dotted with six crunchy prawns neatly arranged on the rice. The rice is spicy and sweet with pieces of coarsely chopped up kimchi mixed inside.
#Feng Food#台湾味 “丰”#Taiwanese#Northpoint City#Guan Miao Mian#关庙面#Pork Chop#Noodles#Pickled Cucumbers#Shrimp & Kimchi Fried Rice#虾仁泡菜炒饭#Spicy Sweet#Over Easy Egg#Shrimp#Crunchy#Fried Rice#Kimchi#Dinner#Food#Buffetlicious
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no but wait abba's take a chance on me but steddie and there are so many ways it could go!!
high school Steve dating around and getting a reputation for being a ladies man and Eddie watching from the sidelines thinking 'if you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown honey I'm still free take a chance on me'
s4 steddie, Eddie thinking Steve is pining for Nancy after the upside the down forest scene and he watches as Nancy dresses Steve's wounds but Eddie wishing it was him 'if you change your mind, I'm the first in line, honey I'm still free take a chance on me'
post vecna and they are spending more and more time together, in Eddie's trailer, going for drives/dinners/any spare moment they can have in each other's company they do 'we can go dancing, we can go walking as long as were together. listen to some music maybe just talking, get to know you better'
Eddie is so hopelessly heart achingly in love and he can't even deny it, he tries to hold back but he just cant, imagining what it might look like to be with Steve, how it might feel to openly show how much his heart belongs to him but too scared to try for fear of his worsts nightmare being true 'so much that I wanna do when I dream I'm alone with you its magic'
Eddie losing countless hours convincing himself that Steve would never feel the same way about him, not the Steve Harrington 'you want me to leave it there afraid of a love affair but I think you know, that I can't let go'
that is until there's a party for the older one's at Steve's. he ends up lying on the floor with Steve in his kitchen, everyone else in the living room debating the benefits of sweet and savoury flavour combinations. Steve lets his walls down, tells Eddie that he is scared to let anyone close to him in case the find out what he's really like and decide that he's not worthy of their love and attention after all. he doesn't look at Eddie when he's saying this, knows he can't look at him because Steve's resolve would dissolve and Eddie would know just how much Steve wants him to prove him wrong. Eddie had been talking to Nancy before this, finding out that her and Steve aren't an option, haven't been an option for a long time now so he just decides that now is time, if nothing else he hopes confessing will show Steve that Eddie knows him and he loves him, not in spite of who he is but because of who he is. so, he tells him 'you say that I waste my time but i can't get you off of my mind. no i can't let go 'cause i love you so'
later on, Argyle decides he needs snacks to prove his culinary point which is when he stumbles into the kitchen to find Eddie and Steve wrapped up in each other while sat on the floor, propped up against the cupboards, smiling into each other and letting out little puffs of laughter. argyle needs his food though so he carries on, grabbing his pickles and giving them both a thumbs up 'congratulations muchachos may your ride on the love bus be everlasting'. neither Eddie nor Steve hear him, too infatuated by each other. Argyle doesn’t mind, humming a song as he leaves the kitchen ‘honey I’m still free, take a chance on me’
#join me in my delusions#are we Abba fans? do we recognise the musical stylings of Swedish pop music?#is this too niche?#give me your THOUGHTS!!!#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#I know I was talking to SOMEBODY abt Abba Steddie but my memory is atrocious I’m sorry
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Do you have any pregnancy headcanons about avery?
awww thats so fun
~ she has really weird pregnancy cravings (like pickles and peanut butter 😭) write some in the comments
~ she's the type to have really bad mood swings (like she gets mad at jameson all of the time but he's always super sweet to her and helps her with the mood swings)
~ at first she had no morning sickness so she thought that she got lucky but later the sickness hit her like a BUS)
~ not only did she have that moring sickness but her first pregnancy is rough... like she gets heartburn, dizziness, headaches
~ jameson helps her all the time with those things and is always buying her little things to make her feel better
~ she never officially announces her pregnancy... she kinda just pulls a halle bailey and lets all of the fans figure it out for themselves or find out from the random insta post of the baby
~ she thinks it's adorable every time jameson freaks out about the baby kicking
CUTIESSS 😍😍😍 i have five more requests to do and then asks are back!!
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nothing kills you slower than letting someone go - matthew tkachuk
Your first Christmas in Calgary without Matthew proves to be more dramatic than you’d imagined
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: angst angst angst, a shitty breakup, shitting on the calgary transit system and also the weather, tumblr user matthewtkachuk finally taking on the matthew tkachuk florida trade
word count: 3.1k
happy (early) birthday c, i love you so so so so sos ososos os much you deserve the absolute fucking world and i would kill anyone for you, all you have to do is ask. big thank u to @antoineroussel as always for proofreading, even if i decline her changes 50% of the time.
@ryngrvs bingo spaces used: exes to lovers, "you're killing me", argument scene, unresolved angst, forced proximity
“You’re killing me.”
It’s spoken by the head of curls poking out from beneath the cream duvet that may or may not be attached to your boyfriend. He’s enjoying the perks of a rare day off, while you’re stumbling around the bright room getting ready for work at the ass crack of dawn.
“I’m sorry, Matty, I’ll turn the light off as soon as I finish getting dressed.”
“Or you could stop getting dressed and come back to bed,” is his muffled reply. He stretches with a loud groan, peeking out at you from beneath the covers for a moment before dramatically squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head once more.
“Would that I could, baby. Would that I could,” you tell him, tossing on a shirt from your large walk-in closet and finally, mercifully, turning off the light. It’s a short walk back over to the bed where you unceremoniously yank the covers away in order to give him a short but sweet kiss goodbye. “Love you, see you later.”
His responding ‘I love you’ sounds more like a promise than a parroting of your own words back at you.
Life in Calgary is good, perfect even one might say. Just you, Matty, a cute apartment with a good view—what more could a girl ask for? Except for maybe a milder winter and a physical confirmation and representation of the future you think you’re heading toward.
Six months later, at his brother’s engagement party, Matt is traded to the opposite side of the continent and you’re moving into the spare bedroom of your friend’s apartment. Your view? The brick of the building next door and the shambles of a life you’d no longer get to lead.
-
Calgary’s always been cold, but it’s even colder without Matthew to warm your bed or your apartment or your life. Apparently the mid-December cold snap has temperatures dropping below that of even the North and South Poles. Once upon a time that would mean extended mornings together in bed, warm and cozy under covers until you would successfully guilt trip him into giving you a ride to work.
These days you have to wake up a full hour earlier than you used to in order to take the notoriously unreliable Calgary transit system, shivering in the uncovered bus shelter while you wait and wait and wait for a bus that may never come, and cursing your manager for being the ultimate boomer, afraid of letting his staff work from home.
It’s one of those days when your bus is a full half an hour late and the windchill could best be described as ‘fucking cold’ when you get an unexpected text message.
Busy?
It’s Annika, Elias’s newly minted fiance if instagram is to be believed, and one of the girls you had been closest to when you’d existed within the stratosphere that was the Calgary Flames. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome or unrealistic, seeing as she’s checked on you here and there in the months since your split.
No, but yes and also kind of in a pickle...
Ten minutes later, there’s still no sign of your bus, but a different mode of transportation presents itself in your old friend behind the wheel of an SUV.
Your shoulders are shivering and your teeth are chattering and you’re 99% sure your lips are blue when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window reflection before climbing in.
“You’re an absolute lifesaver Ann,” you gush the moment you’re situated in the passenger seat, pleasantly surprised when the seat warmer is already warm and toasty beneath your ass.
“What are friends for, right?” she gleefully replies, signaling before turning back onto the icy street.
Christmas music plays lightly through the car radio, filling the silences between the two of you catching up on the past few months.
It’s pleasant and warm—so, so incredibly warm thank God—which should have been an indication that a bomb was about to be thrown your way.
“Come to our Christmas party,” Annika blurts out with a complete and uncharacteristic lack of poise. You’re ready to tell her all about the multitude of ways that’s a bad idea when she continues, “Just listen...”
It takes a lot to convince you that a Christmas Party being hosted at the house she owned with Elias is how you want to spend your valuable free time. Partially it’s the promise of free booze, partially it’s the way your chest aches when you think of all the friends you lost when your relationship went to shit, but mostly it’s the assurance that it’s neither the Official nor Unofficial Flames Christmas party and it won’t be just players and their significant others present.
That, and the fact that Annika went out of her way to pick you up in the freezing cold at seven thirty in the morning and give you a ride when Calgary Transit had let you down so spectacularly.
You let her talk and don’t give her an answer until she’s dropping you off in front of work.
“So, will you come?”
“Of course I’ll come, thanks for the ride, Ann.”
The wide smile on her face should make your frozen heart melt a little, but you’re too busy focusing on the dread you feel deep in your stomach.
-
You knew it was going to be a bad day when even your gimmicky weather app told you it was so cold you were better off staying at home.
But you’ve spent enough time sitting at home, staring at your four walls and wishing for a better outcome. Besides, you’re not going to let anyone down, especially not after knowing the pain of the ultimate let down that was Matthew Tkachuk and everything he’d promised you and then failed to deliver.
The only one you’re impressing is yourself these days, which is your justification for the thirty minute long shower where you let a hair mask soak into your ends and exfoliate your entire body despite being under no pretenses that anyone but you would benefit from it.
And okay maybe the thought of ending up in the background of someone’s Insta story is motivation enough for you to spend that extra bit of time on your hair and makeup, and to choose the jeans that make your ass look great and the shirt that does the same for your tits. It’s a secret that will remain between you and Anastasia Beverly Hills.
A loud cheer is sounded when you walk through the front door of the Lindholm home after a short Uber ride.
“You and Matthew broke up, not us,” Elias tells you after pulling you in for a big bear hug. It takes everything you have in you to not give into the wobbling of your lower lip at his words. Maybe it wasn’t fair to avoid this world and everything that came with it for fear that it would prevent your broken heart from mending itself piece by piece. These were good people who you cared for and who cared for you in return, people who only had your best interests at heart.
“I promise I’ll quit hiding in Chrissy’s apartment,” you reply quietly before letting Annika lead you away to introduce you to some of the new faces around the room.
Ashley Kadri is every bit as glamorous and kind as your friend talked her up to be, and her husband is much of the same, letting you gush about how amazing his cup run with the Avs had been last season.
You can take the girl out of the hockey relationship, but you can’t take the hockey out of the girl.
It’s all going well and reminding you of how much you used to love being a part of this world when it predictably goes to hell again.
Securing another drink means walking past the front door to head towards the kitchen, and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing that it’s here, away from prying eyes, that you run into the last person you expected to see in Calgary ever again outside of a game situation.
“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, stunned by the mere presence of you in his former teammate but forever friend’s home.
“What am I doing here? Me? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap back angrily, but even you’re not sure exactly what you mean by ‘here’. Canada? Calgary? Lindy’s entryway? Your fragile, shattered heart?
Torn between bursting into tears and strangling the man in front of you, you’re saved from the decision by Elias appearing out of nowhere with a robust “Chucky!”
Annika’s guilty face behind her fiance tells you Matthew’s arrival is not unwelcome nor unexpected.
“I need a drink,” you whisper quietly, ignoring Annika’s attempts to gain your attention.
Much like he hadn’t when he left, you don’t spare Matthew a second glance as you leave.
You’re not sure if it’s a cruel twist of fate, or the result of your not-so-kind-hearted friends’ meddling that has you sitting next to Matthew at dinner. He spends most of it trying to get your attention, but you focus on Jacob and talking his and his girlfriend’s ears off about her pregnancy.
At some point between stuffing your face with mashed potatoes and none-too-gracefully reaching over Matthew to grab seconds to avoid having to engage in conversation with him, his leg brushes yours. The sensation has your skin feeling like it’s on fire through your jeans, and you react accordingly, flinching away like you’ve been burned.
Later, you’re sat in a circle with a group of Annika’s friends, listening to them drone on and on about some great opportunity that, for some reason you can’t quite put your finger on, has you imagining the shape of a triangle.
Realizing you’re going to need more alcohol to get through the conversation, you excuse yourself and run right into the very person you’ve been avoiding all night.
If you were stronger, less heartbroken still, you would look him right in his eyes and dismiss him without much more than a callous, offhanded comment of his name. You’re not, and you are, and so you just stare up at him, feeling as though all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out.
He manages to say your name though, and the sound of it is so bittersweet on his tongue. Equal parts sounding like it belongs there, and like it should never be spoken by him again.
“Can we get out of here? Talk?”
Annika’s friends are staring with far too much interest, not even pretending like they’re not eavesdropping and so you storm away to a much quieter spot down the hallway.
Spinning on him, you say, “I didn’t drive, and I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Please? I really want to clear the air, and I can’t do it with all of my former teammates breathing down my neck.” He seems sincere enough, even if the very sight of him has your body breaking out into a nervous sweat, and you’re pretty sure you feel the beginning of an allergic hives reaction breaking out along your arms.
“You should have thought of that before you ambushed me at their party.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here, I promise. Lindy invited me, and I couldn’t just turn him down.”
You know the feeling well, not wanting to let Annika down was seventy five percent of the reason you were here tonight, too. Something about the way that makes you feel has you agreeing, “Fine.”
“If you really want, we can take separate Ubers,” he offers, and you realize the notion is ridiculous, but you still consider it for half a second before you sigh so deeply you feel it in your bones before rattling off your new address. He looks shocked, and you realize when he opens the app on his phone, the old address is still saved as Home.
“You didn’t think I could afford the condo after you left did you? I can't even afford to live by myself, Matthew,” you snap at him.
“I didn’t realize—“
“Yeah there’s a lot you didn’t realize, Matthew.”
The full name moniker that slips from your mouth slices right through his bravado as he viscerally winces.
Your ride comes quickly, but the actual ride itself seems to take an entire hour as the blue Toyota Camry with the Flames license plate weaves in and out of traffic. It makes you wonder if the car really belongs to Carl, your Uber driver, as he casually has a conversation with Matthew without any fuss.
Normally, you go out of your way to make others feel appreciated, but you can’t even find it within yourself to thank Carl when he pulls up at your apartment, simply jumping out from the car before it’s even fully parked.
Matthew takes in his surroundings carefully, critically, as he looks at discarded needles on the ground in front of you and the gang sign graffiti a few buildings down from yours. It makes you angry—no, makes you furious—as you watch him judge your surroundings. As if he had any reason to care about where you rested your head at night anymore.
You still don’t say anything though. Just let that anger stew and simmer, bubbling below the surface as you buzz into the lobby and then up the elevator.
“You wanted to talk? Talk.” You cross your arms and glare at him, impatiently and involuntarily tapping your foot on the cheap laminate flooring.
He looks lost, panicked, like he didn’t think he would even make it this far. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t know what to say?” You’re in disbelief, truly. He shows up in your city, at a party you’re at, and demands to speak with you privately at your apartment and he can’t think of a single thing to fucking say to you? “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he says, elaborating further when your look of disbelief only grows. “Seeing you again. I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“You made it like this! You left me behind like I was nothing, like we were nothing.”
He winces as the truth leaves your lips. “I know, and I’ve regretted it ever since. From the moment the door shut behind me for the last time, I’ve regretted it.”
“Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?” The feeling brewing in your chest can’t be pinned down to just one emotion; it’s sadness and anger and hurt, but it’s something else too. Something you can’t put your finger on but it burns like cheap whiskey down your throat.
“I couldn’t ask you to leave Calgary, everything you have is here.”
That’s it? That’s his excuse? Deciding for the both of you what was important to you, what you would want?
“I fucking hate Calgary! It’s so fucking cold and it snows all the time and you’re not there anymore!”
He’s on you in a second, cold hands curved around your jaw and hot mouth on yours. Your back hits the wall, and you think a picture frame falls, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Gripping and pulling him closer, your hands can’t settle on a place, roaming and feeling, re-committing every curve, every sharp edge of his body to memory.
It’s a mess of teeth and tongue, whining and panting and a thrumming need until his mouth breaks free of yours, trailing down your neck.
You come back into yourself then, back into the harsh memory of his packed bags and his back as he walked away from you and everything you had to offer. “Stop…Stop!” You push him off of you. There’s barely any effort put into it on your part, but he flies off of you like you had herculean strength.
One of his hands is tangled in the hair atop his head, while the fingers of the other are pressed to his lips as if in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“What? It was a mistake? An accident? I don’t want to fucking hear it! What is wrong with you?” It takes everything in your power to keep the tears from falling, though you’re sure your watery gaze betrays you. Your arms are wrapped around you, almost as if you could physically hold your broken pieces together.
“I’m just sorry,” he replies, resigned in a way you can’t ever quite remember him being. “I’m just sorry and I miss you so fucking much.”
You laugh then, loud and cruel and sharp. “Apology not accepted.”
He says your name, quiet and wounded, almost like a prayer, a plea.
Swallowing the lump in your throat you reply, “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”
“Would you have?”
“Yes.”
“Would you come with me now?”
“Absolutely not.”
He looks shocked then. Like it’s inconceivable that you’re not willing to drop everything for him, five months after he left you behind without so much as a second glance. Like he thought he could just show up in Calgary, at Elias’ party, like nothing was wrong and you would follow him back like a lost puppy.
The day after your breakup? Absolutely. The week after? Maybe. But you had five months to learn to be okay without the man standing in front of you, and no shitty apology or burning kiss was going to change that.
“Calgary may be cold and miserable, but it’s predictable. I know exactly what to expect—fucking cold from October to May, and a little less cold for the rest of the year. You? I have no idea what you’ll do next. And that used to excite me, used to make me think you were just passionate. But now I don’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever could.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I think you should go.” When he doesn’t even blink, your mouth twists into a horrible grimace as you lose control of yourself and the floodgates holding back your tears burst. “Fucking leave! You’re killing me here, Matty.”
You’ll never know if it was the tears or the nickname you let slip past your lips, but he leaves. And you’re not sure you’ve made the right choice, but he made the wrong one first and you’ll never forget that.
#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#matthew tkachuk fic#matthew tkachuk fanfic#matthew tkachuk fanfiction#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk imagines#matthew tkachuk x reader#shelb writes
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More of the Tiny!batmom adventures? secret agents running amok at the mall or smthng
"76?" Danya called, "You want a pretzel?"
You look up from where you were people-watching. Little kids and moms. The moms looking stressed and the kids looking excited. Little knots of teenagers ditching school. Older men and women, holding hands. Men on benches holding purses... It was a dizzying mix of voices and smells and sounds. Some familiar and some not.
The kid noise was the easiest to track. None of the kids seemed scared when they cried. That was good... little tantrums mostly.
"A pretzel?" you answer, confused. "Like the bagged ones?"
Danya looked at you, comically offended and gasped, "They don't have soft pretzels there?"
When you shake your head confused, Cooper turned to the kid behind the counter and ordered three pretzels, three sodas, and as much nacho cheese as he was legally allowed to sell them.
"What's the cheese for?" you ask, cocking your head, "Is it like soup?
"It's for dipping the pretzel in," Cooper explained, handing you a drink cup and handing one to Danya.
"Coke is pretty good," Danya said watching you frown at the soda fountain, "Really sweet." She steps around you and fills her own cup, quietly reminding you how a soda fountain works. And you decide to follow her suggestion. They'd not given you a bad one yet. And the array of snacks that you'd tried and new foods you'd been given was pretty extensive. There were agents from all over the world. So far you had a few favorites. You liked the Bao buns that one of the agents made the other night. You liked pickles. And you loved sour candy. "There's a table over there," Danya said, gesturing and steering you gently that direction.
"Snacks!" Cooper declared, passing food out, "Ugh I can't even remember the last time I got to SHOP."
"We're not shopping for you," Danya snorted, "The kid needs clothes and-"
"And to be properly socialized," Cooper teased, taking the lid off the warm cheese for you, amused at how perplexed you looked. And more amused when you poke at the pretzel for a second before tearing off a little bit and taking a thoughtful nibble. Anyone watching would probably think you were doing some weird preteen 'God I'm too cool for this' thing but. They'd seen you do this with all the foods that they'd given you.
And when you nodded, finding it tasty, Danya smiled. You'd probably be okay. And, at least these little trips could help you learn how to navigate the world... it wasn't a bad gig. It got her out of the compound. And it was nice, teaching someone how to do mundane things like how to use an ATM or how a parking garage worked. How to read a bus schedule and look for good sales... It was insane sometimes, how little you understood about the world. But no one could say you weren't smart.
The next test, trying the cheese made both Danya and Cooper snort. It was clear from the second you put it in your mouth that it was just not it. Your nose crinkled and you shook your head. "Why's it like that?" you sputter, spitting it out into the napkin Cooper handed you and fumbling to take a drink of your soda to get the taste out of your mouth.
And all they can do is laugh for a second. At least now they knew what you looked like when you DIDN'T like something.
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Magic Mike Audition
TW: A real jerk of a customer, minor injuries, I feel like shirtless Mitch is a warning? Nothing crazy this time ya'll.
Per usual not edited, please forgive any mistakes but I had written this by hand and then typed it up.
Also, if you were the human who said something about Sunny wearing Mitch's clothes, this is obviously inspired! I can't find the note/info in my activity because of the boop madness but TYSM!!
I glanced up as Ann approached, a small frown out of place with her normally chipper attitude. “What?” I asked, straightening with a stack of dirty plates balanced on one hand, glasses in the other. Our bus boy had called off and it had been super busy, Mitch barely even getting out from behind the bar to help us out on the floor. At least the tips were nice if nothing else, the people seeing how we were swamped with two waitresses, no buser, and one bartender.
“Guy at 10 is an ass.” She muttered, looking over her shoulder. I followed her gaze and spotted a middle aged man mean mugging her.
“What is his problem?” I asked, glancing back at her as we walked to the kitchen together. She began punching an order into the POS screen back there while I cleared the plates I had brought back, lining them up in the sturdy plastic tray prepping to be washed. The young dishwasher gave me a thankful smile and I returned it. He was a nice kid Mitch had just taken on, sweet by shy.
“Says he hates redheads.” Ann snipped, the sound of her nails hitting the POS screen a loud tapping noise in the kitchen.
I frowned, seeing that she was very clearly a loud and proud redhead, her pretty hair pinned out of her face but in no way hidden. “Want me to take him?” I offered. I didn’t really mind difficult customers and if his issue really was redheads then problem solved.
She glanced at me, fingers pausing over the poor screen she had been abusing moments before. “You sure?”
I gave a small shrug. “Sure, why not. You’ve had a few jerks today, share the love and all that.”
Her grin was immediate. “You are an angel. You hear that, Keller? Sunny is a real angel!”
Hearing her say his name I looked back to find Mitch was in the kitchen at the pick up window getting a few orders for his customers at the bar. He paused, glancing between myself and Ann before sending me a half smile. “I know.” He said, grabbing the plates full of food. “But why do you think she is?”
Ann gave me an amused look, always a little entertained that Mitch was never shy about complimenting me. “Because,” She said, wrapping up the last of her order, the few final clicks of her nails on the screen sounding somehow more satisfied. “She’s jumping on one massive asshole grenade.” Flashing me one last smile Ann breezed out of the kitchen, obviously lighter now that she had been relieved of table 10.
“Darlin’.” Mitch said, a plate balanced on each hand, looking down at me but giving nothing away. “Explain.”
“Table 10 told Ann he doesn’t like redheads so I’m gonna take it from her.” I said, smiling at him with a little ‘shoo’ motion. “I’m a big girl, cowboy. That food is gonna get cold if you keep standing here pesterin me.”
“Sunny.”
“Mitch.” I said his name with a smile on my lips. “You can see me from the bar. Now git.”
“You tell ‘im girl.” Charlie called from over the pit grill, making me laugh as I left the kitchen as well.
Ann of course had been right. This guy was an absolute dick. A whole fucking bag of them really. Not only was he rude, but he was also picky, a tragic combination in a human.
His beer had to have three orange slices, three, he had repeated at least six times while I write it down with the patience of a saint. His fried pickles had to be extra crispy, and his ribs had to be drowning in sauce. He spoke in a condescending, slow tone, pausing to ensure I wrote down every one of his words as if they were scripture. And the douche canoe made sure to let me know that he had absolutely no issues sending food back. Shocker.
I went to the back to grab the pickles when they came up, dropping them at his table before checking in with my other tables as I was covering half the dining area. He didn’t kick up a fit so I thought I was in the clear.
I was wrong.
I heard Charlie hit the little bell that let us know that some food was in the window. Knowing mine was up next I went to the back and spotted what could only be described as a plate of bar-b-que sauce, ribs barely visible with the amount of sauce. The plates had a raised edge so quiet a bit was on there, but he had been very insistent he wanted them swimming and those ribs were damn near doing laps.
I grabbed the plate carefully and the other plate with his sides, as they obviously couldn’t go with the ‘swimming’ ribs. “Thanks Charlie!” I called as I walked out, beelining to table 10.
I slid the plates before him with a friendly smile, not betting on a tip but trying to still be polite. Glancing up I noticed his beer with his three orange slices was nearly gone and I paused. “Would you like ano-”
“What is this?” He cut me off, looking down at the plate at what I would personally call bar-b-que soup at this point.
“Oh,” I said, brushing off his interruption. “Those would be your ribs, and I had your sides put on another plate. Does it not look right?” I asked, knowing full well this was exactly what he ordered.
“Do you think this is funny?” He snapped, eyes lifting to focus on me now, clearly not pleased.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” I asked, looking down at him as my hands rested on my hips. I was polite to a point, didn’t mind working with customers on their weird requests, but this guy was just the absolute worst. I was kind, but I was no doormat. “You ordered exactly what is in front of you. If something looks wrong I can fix it, but you’ve got to tell me.”
His face turned a shade of red I’d never seen, skin blotchy with his brows pinching together. He slowly stood, glaring down at me before doing something I hadn’t been prepared for.
Putting his hand under the lip of the plate the asshole flicked it towards me, the lake of sauce and ribs splattering against my front as the plate fell to the floor. It shattered loudly, the ribs falling next as I stood there. The sauce was hot, not to the point of it being dangerous, but it didn’t feel pleasant.
“Oh no.” I heard someone say but I was already moving.
“Alright asshole, come here.” I growled, hands falling into fists as I went to swing. A cool hand wrapped around my upper arm, stopping me mid strike and I wrestled against Ann’s hold. Luckily for this asshole Ann was scrappy, stronger than she looked, and she began to pull me away from the jerk who looked far too smug.
“Let me- Ann! Let me go!”
“Let Mitch handle this one, Sugar.” She whispered to me, pulling me to the back. I looked back at the asshole of a customer only to see him getting literally dragged out to the parking lot by Mitch whose face reminded me of thunder clouds right before a violent storm.
“God damnit.” I cursed under my breath, marching to the back without a fight as the target of my rage was out of sight. Ann followed after me, a little like a nervous bird fluttering about for a few moments before finally settling on trying to get some sauce off my front with a handful of rags. There was just way too much, I felt it smear on my skin, the sweet smokey scent filling my senses. But it gave her something to do, and distracted me, irritated I hadn’t even gotten a punch in.
There was a tense few moments of Ann basically smearing still warm sauce on my shirt before she glanced up. “M’sorry, Sunny.” She murmured, bright eyes dropping back down to the mess she was really only making worse with her efforts.
Her tone and expression sucked the anger right out me. I deflated, a long sigh pulling from me before I shook my head. “Ann, no. Hey.” I gave her arm a squeeze, thankfully not leaving any smears on her. Someone had to be able to handle tables while I got cleaned up, not both of us could be 90% sauce after all. “That guy was gonna be a jerk no matter what. That isn’t your fault, okay? It’s fine. I’m not hurt I’m just… sauced.” I admitted, nose scrunching slightly at the unpleasant feeling.
“Perfect good waste of my sauce, too.” Charlie chimed in, sounding grumpy. Ann and I exchanged a look before cracking up. “What? It is!”
Mitch walked in, hands fisted at his sides, pausing in surprise to find Ann and I both laughing. I’m sure he had expected to have to come in and handle a demon (me), but really nothing bad had happened. Least he didn’t grab my ass. Seeing us both unharmed and apparently in good spirits he moved closer. “Ann, tables.” He ordered, still a bit tense.
“On it boss.” She said, winking at me before handing me the sauce smeared rags and heading back out to the dining area.
Mitch didn’t look away from me, taking in the mess that I was and the way Ann had certainly not helped. “C’mon.” He said, gesturing with a tilt of his head towards his office.
I followed after him, careful not to accidentally bump into him or the walls. The moment the door was closed Mitch reached out and plopped me down on the edge of his desk with no warning. The feeling of his hands on my hips, lifting and then lowering me had my eyes widening slightly and I looked up at him.
Before I could react or say anything he spoke first. “You okay, darlin’?” He asked, hand lifting and thumb brushing against my cheek. I felt something smear and knew that I had sauce there too.
“M’okay.” I murmured quietly, looking up at him. “Sauce was a little hot but not too bad. I’m mostly mad.” I admitted. That got me a half smile which was a vast improvement.
His fingers lingered on my cheek a moment before falling to the hem of my shirt. “Course you are fine, what was I thinking?” He muttered mostly to himself, amused as he started to peel off my shirt. Mitch was careful, ensuring that the shirt didn’t get anything into my hair or smear it on my skin more than it already was. I let him knowing I would have struggled and made a larger mess. Plus, there was no saving the shirt with how drenched it was.
He tossed the shirt into the bin and it made a spat noise that had me frowning. Together the two of us cleaned the sauce with Mitch getting most of it, grabbing the package of baby wipes Ann kept in her cubby for emergencies. She swore they were the best make up removal wipes ever but hadn’t tested it myself. Worked wonders of bar-b-que sauce though.
‘At least I wore a plain bra.’ I thought, thankful that the simple black bra wasn’t in danger of being ruined. If one of my cute pale ones had gotten sauced I would have been pissed.
Mitch gave me one more once over and I noticed that some of my skin was a little pink and sensitive. Guess the sauce was hotter than I had felt. I wasn’t too bad though, more annoying almost than anything, a dull pain. Mitch’s touch was unbelievably soft though, fingertips glossing over my skin gently as he helped to clean me up. It was nice, and while I wouldn’t voluntarily step in the way of flying plates in the future, I didn’t mind getting this kind of treatment from the man looming over me. On his desk. The very desk where he had me falling apart just last week.
As if reading my thoughts Mitch’s eyes slid up from the middle to meet mine, the zing of awareness coloring my cheeks slightly. He let out an amused little exhale, lips quirking up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he took a little step back, tossing the used wipes into the bin as well before grabbing the first aid kit.
Without the heat of his larger form close I felt goosebumps race up my arms and I frowned, glancing around the office to see if I could find a spare shirt to borrow for the rest of my shirt. Normally Mitch had a few shirts with the bar's logo on it for people to buy, but hadn’t ordered any in a hot minute.
Mitch came back with the kit, settling the little metal box next to me on the desk before popping it open. “Lean back a little, I want to get some burn cream on your stomach.” He said, pulling a little packet of said cream from the kit, eyes on the pink skin of my abdomen.
“I don’t need it, honest.” I tried to reassure him, not wanting him to go through all the fuss. Mitch reached out silently, his hand gentle as he pressed against my collarbone so I had to lean back, my arms holding more of my weight.
“Humor me.” He said in that honey laced tone that had me nodding mutely, looking up at him all doe eyed. “Good girl.” He praised, voice low and sweet, the words rumbling from him into the small space between us. Then he began to apply the cream to any part of my skin that was looking a little irritated or pink.
It was cold, I sucked in a little breath that had his pretty blue eyes jumping to my face to check in. Seeing that it hadn’t been a pain induced sound he smirked before continuing. His touch was gentle, borderline adoring even, rubbing little circles with a light pressure as the cream soaked into my skin. It hadn’t been a bad burn but it had been a little sore, almost like a sunburn. Still, I was touched that he insisted on taking care of them, as non-serious as they were.
His hands slid up my bare sides, palms a little rough on my skin in the best way, his thumbs rubbing soothing little circles along the way. I was smiling, watching his hands glide over my skin before glancing up at him through my lashes. This man either had no idea how handsome he was or he didn’t care, even now in this moment with those thick lashes and deep blue eyes. The way his hair fell a little from his hat, or the way his lips were just slightly parted as he concentrated on me. Focused. It was addictive, having his complete and total attention.
“It does feel better.” I admitted, earning another smile from him. Mitch leaned in, giving me a chaste kiss before straightening, his warm hands leaving my skin. I nearly pouted, wanting to continue to be spoiled with his care and attention.
Then he took me by surprise, reaching instead to undo the buttons of his flannel. I blinked at him, confused as to what exactly he was doing. He paused, seeing my confusion, but instead of answering the obvious question he flashed me that teasing smile before taking off his hat and sliding it onto my head, pulling the bill low so it blocked my vision.
I adjusted it with a huff, uncaring it if mussed my hair. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good show,” I started, watching him undo the next few buttons a little slower than before. Flirt. “But wanna share why you’ve decided to join me in the shirtless club?”
“Well,” Mitch said, smiling as he shrugged the flannel off. He set it next to me on the desk, leaving him in that deliciously semi-fitted black t-shirt. The kind that hugged his biceps just right and showed the strength of him without being uncomfortable, the material soft and hanging just right on his form. God bless whoever invented that cut of shirt. “You aren’t working shirtless, much as I would appreciate the view, I don’t really want everyone else getting an eyeful.”
“While I don’t disagree, that doesn’t explain why you are doing a Magic Mike audition right now.”
He pulled his shirt off in one practiced move, grabbing the back of the collar and lifting it over his head and then off his arms. It left his hair a little mussed and he let out a laugh at my comment, his free hand reaching up to smooth his hair back once more. My mouth was so dry, eyes slightly wide as I took in just how absolutely sexy that was and how tempting he looked right now.
Seeing me at a loss for words made him a little smug and he reached out, attempting to put the shirt on me. “I-Mitch, I can wear a bar shirt, you don’t have to.” I stammered out, cheeks a little warm, meeting those familiar blue eyes that had warmed with humor and a slightly less innocent heat.
“Don’t have any, Sunshine.” He said, taking a half step closer, one of his thighs splitting mine and resting against the edge of the desk as he got even more in my space.
Christ but did he look good. Mitch wasn’t packed with muscle but he was still obviously strong. His arms were thick, body trim with very little extra weight, slightly softer in the middle. His pants were a little low too, that fancy silver buckle of his gleaming even in the low light of the office. I was far too distracted by the fine line of dark hair that traveled down his lower stomach to disappear into his jeans that when Mitch pulled his hat off my head and back onto his own I jumped, surprised. It had me blushing, looking up at him as he let out a pleased laugh, fingers brushing under my chin teasingly.
“Darlin’, you keep looking at me like that and poor Ann is gonna have to run the bar alone.” He teased while a very real spark of heat lit in his dark eyes.
I swallowed before letting out a huff, lifting my arms to allow him to pull his shirt over my head.
Mitch was bigger than me so the shirt was obviously oversized on me. The sleeves weren’t tight around my arms, and the material bunched near my hips. It wasn’t unflattering, it just didn’t look as good on me as it did on him. It smelled like cigarette smoke and bar food but under that I caught a whiff of his body wash and cologne, the fabric still a little warm from his skin. Something about that made my skin tingle, hand lifting to gently play with the collar of the shirt as I looked up at him.
“Little big but it’ll do.” He hummed, leaning back slightly to adjust his hat once more, blue eyes scanning over my figure to take in how I looked in his shirt. From his expression Mitch Keller really liked me in his shirt. A lot.
“Thanks.” I mumbled, distracted by the scent of him right under my nose. I watched him grab the flannel once more and slide his arms into the sleeves, starting to do the buttons up once more. I reached out with a grin, helping him do the buttons up, fingers brushing his skin with a faux innocence. Without the t-shirt under the flannel a small patch of his chest hair was visible. It felt naughty for some reason, the little bit of previously hidden skin peaking out of the collar of his shirt. It didn’t help that he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows.
God, I was a lucky lady.
Watching him roll up his sleeves unashamed I caught sight of something out of place and frowned, reaching out to gently grab at his right hand. Lifting it up so I could see better in the garbage lighting of the office my eyes lifted to his.
Mitch’s knuckles were bruised, a few slightly split open. Clearly from when he’d dragged that jerk out to the parking lot. Not that I’d guessed they’d had a civil conversation, but seeing physical proof of what Mitch was willing to do for me? It made the butterflies in my stomach fill up my whole body and I felt like warm butter, ready to melt if he so much as touched me.
“Thank you.” I said softly, pressing a small kiss to the back of his hand, ever mindful of his injuries. “For always saving me.”
“Y’don’t need saving, Sunny.” He responded, voice low and warm. “But I’m glad I get to.”
I smiled at that, holding his hand in one of mine while the other dug around the first aid kit. “Lemme patch you up and then we can both go save Ann.”
“Alright, Darlin’. Whatever you say.”
More Mitch and Sunny here
#fanfic#mitch keller#garrett hedlund#tulsa king#mitch keller fanfiction#female oc#garrett hedlund fanfiction#Sunny and Mitch
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In honor of Derek's birthday being yesterday -- can we hear about Cerise & Derek?
*inhale* DEREK MY BOI I FAILED U I FORGOT TO DRAW SOMETHING FOR YOUR BIRDYYYYY NAAAAAAAAAUR
*stop sobbing* WELL THE LOVERBIRDS-
I made a post once with tons of fun facts and like, a sort of large plan on how they must have liked each other when they were young (here)
But now let’s focus on some details of their actual show of affection.
٩(｡•ω•｡)و
Cerise is a hugging person, when she doesn’t talk she compensates with physical touch if comfortable enough and Derek is the first victim.
Holding hand, hugs, cuddling, arm pat, hair brushing you name it.
-Despite being taller in step 2, Cerise constantly hides behind him. (She asked for no pickle), which lead to comicly absurd situation where Derek try to be the brave one and cerise just look behind him.
This doesn’t work anymore in step 4, not only he’s now taller but also bigger, and she dosen’t need to try to be hidden now.
Despite not having seen each other in a while, some habits come back fast, and here goes holding hands again.
Right at the bus station, after she ran out to hug him tightly, they walked hand in hand as if 5 years didn’t stand between them.
-Cerise is scared of heights to the point she doesn’t go on the balcony but still hops on the Ferris to have a moment with derek.
-Early bird vs needs 30 min to wake up.
Derek is all « rise and shine, wake up sleepy head the earth says hello :D » type of person. He had time to go to the gym, go grocery shopping, take a shower, and make breakfast, Cerise woke up 10 min ago and her brain was loading it’s function on the sofa, she needed 20 more minutes.
The first night they spend in the same bed Derek wakes up early as always and here goes the hardest morning he ever had: don’t wake up the orange cat sharing your bed.
-They both have different dinner to go with each other which mean they are both in the kitchen at the same and it offers some sweet moments.
-lazy game nights where they just replay games they used to play when they were 13.
-Idk if you see the Reddit post about a guy leveling up his gf catching ability by tossing her random stuff constantly, derek would do that
-They celebrate the small victory of figuring out their life. Did your portfolio get accepted? Going out eating with the family.
-The ultimate siblings reunion- Liz takes her role as the oldest very seriously
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🍗 i haven’t written anything in like a thousand years but i really hope these are the type of abnormal headcanons you were looking for!
rhett is “whatever they had at the gas station” but make it crunchy. cowboy seems like a snacker to the max, like, the only meal this man ever really wants to eat or cares about eating is whatever cecilia makes for dinner. this is a man who gets up before dawn and can’t even think about food before eleven (never mind actually having any time to sit and eat a real breakfast most days) and when he does it’s never from a plate; grazing like a gazelle type eats. maybe around eleven-thirty he’ll hit up a pouch of trail mix or something. he actually likes raisins thank you very much and definitely prefers honey nut sweet n’ salty chex mix to any of that fake m&m or chocolate chip addition weirdness. when he’s not absentmindedly crushing a family sized bag of jalapeño cheetos, spicy honey mustard combos, or old faithful (pork rinds), he can be found stealing bites from whatever you’re eating whether you’re into it in the beginning or not. the first time it happened a few months into your relationship you almost caught his wrist with your fork and looked at him like he was out of his goddamn mind. “i asked you if you were hungry...” you explain when his brows furrow into that cute ass grumpy puppy emoji face he swears he doesn’t do. he just sighs and tucks back into the booth seat across from you on his phone and lets you eat it in peace... but you can’t stop thinking about it and this and him and before you know it you’re cutting a good bite of pancakes off the stack and holding it up to him. those big blue irises flick up, a little smile tugs at his lips before he opens wide and hums in delight at the soft buttery syrupy diner brunch. rhett tries not to look like the cowboy who caught the flapjack when you ask for another set of cutlery.
okay... i’d say my beloved bobby is the complete opposite: a real meal kinda guy. he’s southern and eats like it (affectionate). he likes it all: spicy, sweet, finger-lickin’, hearty, comfortably full-bellied, might think about taking a nap afterwards type eats. barbecues, (i don’t headcanon bob as being religious so maybe post mission dagger squad potlucks with his mama and sister recipes that he he picked up over the years), holidays, etc. but back to the matter at hand, i can totally see him being fast food chicken sandwich fiend. if the place he finds himself in has one he’ll try it. he doesn’t believe any place has The Best chicken sandwich because that’s his mama's all day everyday and there’s absolutely no competition. but they’re all pretty good in their own way regardless. when he’s home on leave and gets the inevitable craving for a mcdonald’s chicken sandwich specifically, it’s a bit of a production. you were with him one of these times and off you went to find the ol’ golden arches. he was polite as pie in the drive thru because of course and when he asks for extra napkins at the end you suspect they actually gave them because of it. he parks in the back corner of the lot like teenagers and you feel a little giddy. he kisses you and starts unloading the bag; his two crispy chicken sandwiches and a quarter pounder with mac sauce and cheese. they actually put extra mayo and pickles on both of his sandwiches which surprised you and you’re about to say as much when he opens them up to stack them together arranging the pickles and all between the sturdier looking of the two buns. you try not to get distracted when he licks the mayo from his fingertips and asks of you could uncap the bottle of hot sauce right there “please, darlin’” and when you look down as if it magically appeared there sat a small half-finished bottle of frank’s red hot xtra. you jokingly call him crazy as he heavy-hands the liquid cayenne onto the sandwich and just about unhinges his jaw to take a bite. he nods, chews and says “but that’s why ya love me...” like he wants you to mean it but also like he could let it roll off like a joke. you stare at his side profile as starts going as red as his hot sauce. “yeah,” you whisper, an thread of finality weaving through your words, “that’s why i love ya.”
!! oh this was so cute to read; I literally had walk out the room and get my head on straight because I started melting midway through. I love every word you've said😭
Rhett, the food thief! I never even thought about it until you mentioned it; there's no way he isn't one. The first time we even see him in the show, we literally watch him walk in and steal a piece of Amy's bacon. What's to stop him from reaching over and stealing a piece of your food? I rest my case, your honor 💃
I love love the headcanon of him being a snacker that just grazes all day. Eats one meal a day but has countless snacks before and after. Probably keeps them hidden, too, because there's nothing more annoying than looking for a snack that someone's already eaten. The pork rinds are in the glove box; the trail mix is hidden in the tack room. You're only aware of this because you walked into the shed and found him pulling that bag of jalapeño Cheetos out of what's supposed to be a toolbox. As soon as he sees you, he just...quietly looks at the bag, then back to you, holds it out, and goes, "do you want one?"
So that's how you wind up as a member of the Hidden-Snack Alliance™
Now that you've said it, I can't unsee it. Bob. Sweet, sweet bob who could eat an entire horse and still be hungry. The type of guy that finishes your food for you when you're full and don't want to take the leftovers home. He doesn't even have to ask after a while; all you have to do is give him a short nod. Leftovers? Not on Robert's watch.
Do you think he has a list? Because I feel like he's got a whole list on his phone, ranked from best to worst, with detailed reasons why, and it's always changing, but it always says "Moms :)" in the #1 slot. "Bob, is the chicken sandwich from here any good?" "Only if you like getting food poisoning, sweetheart."
Kisses!! before he ever touches his food! I have left the building, never to be seen again. He straight-up has his own "secret menu" item AND has the Frank's Red Hot Xtra on standby. If you look hard enough, there's probably a gallon container of it in the back of the cabinet, and he just refills the same bottle over and over.
He's crazy, but most importantly, he's crazy for you.
#i am GONE i have PASSED AWAY#this is my favorite thing i have ever received#How are we supposed to live laugh love without these two men??#if tumblr's post editor crashes one more time i will PERSONALLY drive to their headquarters and take a bite out of the first person i see#rhett abbott#bob floyd#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#rhett abbott headcanons#robert bob floyd headcanons#bob floyd headcanons#delgato's asks
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meal plan text asmr
i normally have breakfast at work because of my proton pump inhibitor. tomorrow i wfh the morning to do a training so i’ll be having sesame toast with a boiled egg, feta, and whatever pickle and veg looks good. then for the rest of the week’s breakfasts i have one yogurt (lucas found me the icelandic coffee yogurt!!) and friday morning tbh, probably the last of my ezekiel toast with communal work peanut butter unless i pick up cottage cheese/yogurt. today i worked remotely at a coffee shop and i grabbed a bad scone, RIP. (adding to shopping list: ezekiel bread, greek yogurt, cottage cheese, bananas, the icelandic coffee yogurt but that’s only at whole foods.)
at work right now i’ve been having paramount (local brand) k cups that corey gifted me. i got him a gift card for the new downtown coffee shop so he can grab it between his bus job (he herds teenagers for the school public bus program. his real title is abussador :)) and he got me k cups for my work. i froth half and half to dress up the k cup, and my coworker brought in half and half she needs used up, so i don’t need to bring mine. (another week before i have to buy more.) i hate using the disposables and am considering literally committing to work french press like an absolute psycho—i just can’t get myself enough time before work to make and bring it from home and the refillable k cups will do but are gross. if you have to survive a keurig at work i recommend nasty refillables + steaming and frothing milk. i have half a bag of not great beans at home. I’ve been spending more on nicer beans for home and it has been worth it, but I am still not quite sure what I like. (on shopping list: coffee beans, decaf beans for winter evening treats.)
came home with a coffee shop noise pollution migraine and made myself cheese ramen with cilantro, sesame seeds, green onion, and a side of this week’s pickled carrot slaw. ramen made two servings for me. it was the last of my shin black and third to last slice of ramen cheese. my cilantro will last another weekend and i have at least week’s worth of parsley and green onions. (adding to the shopping list: shin black, cheese singles, frozen corn, and since i’m thinking about it, shredded mozz for buldak/corn cheese.)
for lunches wednesday-friday i will have dumplings from the freezer (the ones i made and some other ones i have), leftover ramen, and a carrot and cucumber salad (my last two fresh salad vegetables, but i will probably wait out purchasing more). to prep tonight: jar of dumpling sauce, salad. (dumplings are already on my shopping list when i see some that look good. adding dumpling wrappers—making and freezing them was so worth it, but i felt like making the dough wasn’t.)
complicating factor: i should make myself something sweet to keep me out of the vending machines at work. at home i’ve been having what i believe to be yaourti me meli (greek yogurt, walnuts, honey, cinnamon?) but i’m out. i’d like to make a second french yogurt cake to compare it to the other recipe, but again, out. i would also also like to make a coffee cake type food for someone coming over saturday afternoon. do i make a little loaf cake with what i have tonight to get me through the week and then a second thing then? do i have friday plans? if i bake a little quick bread or pound cake for myself tonight it will really cut down on my food ruminations. (adding to shopping list: greek yogurt, walnuts, honey, dried fruit, butter.. baking supplies need inventorying but i’m almost sure i have enough of the basics.)
what am i having for dinners? i need to minimize the chance that i spend any non-grocery money before next week—i will be having a crazy week and likely blowing money i don’t have. tonight i’m having leftover cannellini beans cacio e pepe (‼️ make this ‼️). i have enough beans (although running low) to continue having beans meals, but i really really really desire to put my beans meals on potatoes. (‼️ fusion jacket potatoes ‼️ make this ‼️). matias made these perfect black beans with pork and salsa verde and it’s all i can think about. can i pull this off with freezer bacon… i have enough of a serrano to get me through. (adding to shopping list: russet potatoes, garlic, sour cream, avocado, cheap canned black beans, decent looking dried black beans, slightly nice italian brand butter beans and cannellini beans, bell pepper, tomatillos, tomatoes, mexican oregano, sweet potato, pork?? i will put this on my list but never buy it.)
i would also like to make salmon rice bowls with avocado, pickled veg/carrot slaw, cucumbers, etc. to use up my freezer salmon. i would prefer to wait to do this til i’m keeping salad greens (leftover salmon for salads is key for a working woman…)
in two weeks i will make something for a certain someone’s birthday and batch up some granola. i’ve been wanting to try making coffee granola. i also have to make a lasagna before the end of winter this year or i must be executed.
what i’m bringing to work tomorrow for the rest of the week: salad, bags of dumplings, ramen, cilantro (packed separately), one boiled egg, one yogurt, dumpling sauce and any other condiments that look good, and a sweet if i can pull it off.
the question i can only answer for myself tomorrow at 4pm: am i going to the grocery store?
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I arrived late in Helsinki on the 5th of January. During the last leg of my 11 hour bus ride I remembered that January 6th is a public holiday in many countries; it is not in Portugal, while it is for our neighbors Spain, so it really varies from place to place and is never a date that's at the forefront of my mind. Nevertheless, my flight back home was on the 7th so I decided to check and sure enough, the 6th is a public holiday in Finland. Since my number one mission during my last days in Helsinki was to visit Aikuisten Lelukauppa, Kari Valo's famous shop, I DM'd their instagram account asking whether it would be open the next day.
Thus began the saga that leads us to the concluding chapter of our story, The Finland Chronicles Part 3: Aikuisten Lelukauppa Oy, and Finland Moi Moi
I got a response from the person who runs the shop’s instagram account the next morning, while I was getting ready, saying that they weren’t sure whether Kari would be coming in. I decided to risk it anyway and headed over there, only to find that, alas, the shop was indeed closed.
Feeling a bit deflated, I decided to just walk into the restaurant next door and the events that unfolded upon me stepping inside were heartwarming. The place was a very small and simple Thai restaurant, run by just one man, who I at the time assumed was Finnish. I made casual conversation with him and informed him of what had just happened, to which he replied that he had seen Kari lock up not long ago and head to the cafe down the road…so I had just missed him! I proceeded to order food, since I hadn’t really had breakfast, and he made me a dish of fried salmon, rice, and pickled vegetables. It was delicious, and I'm pretty sure the blurry corner in the picture above is from my lens fogging up with how hot it was.
After bringing me the food, this sweet man proceeded to turn the entire restaurant upside down looking for Kari's phone number, which he had written down on a slip of paper; he did in fact have a smartphone but informed me he didn't have time to be saving people's numbers in it, dontcha know. 😂 He said there was a possibility Kari could come back but it wasn't looking likely. Eventually, a girl who worked at the café next door came over, since she helps write the signs and menus for the restaurant due to her impeccable calligraphy, and gave him the number. He dialed it, hit call and a few seconds later we heard a voice identical to Ville’s say (I assume), "Kari Valo speaking." The restaurant owner explained that someone had come *all* the way from Portugal just to see him and handed me the phone. So I got to talk to Kari a bit. He told me he'd locked up for the day and asked me why I hadn't come earlier, and when I said I was considering extending my trip a bit he responded, "I'll be waiting for you every day." Ville wasn't kidding when he said he got his verbal acrobatics from his dad, huh. Sidenote: I thought I'd headed out pretty early, all things considered, but now you know, the early bird gets the Kari, especially if it’s a public holiday.
Heartened, I hung up and got on my own phone to make the arrangements to extend my trip, intending to return to the shop without fail on Monday the 8th. A part of me felt a little silly, but that was overridden by the feeling that my time in Finland wouldn’t really have been complete without a visit to Aikuisten Lelukauppa. Luckily, it was pretty cheap and dealing with that left me with time to relax, enjoy the rest of my meal, and talk to the man who had gone out of his way to make sure I got to speak to Kari. It turned out his name was Pedro, he was originally from Spain but had been living in Finland for 45 years, and had learned to cook Thai food from his second wife. Upon finding out he was from Spain, the conversation promptly switched from English to Portuñol, and he told me all about his family over Thai coffee after I'd finished my meal. I left the place after some time, feeling warm and fuzzy at the fact that complete strangers had gone above and beyond for me, but not before laughing at the fact that as quickly as Pedro had reobtained Kari's number, he then proceeded to lose it for a second time and was once again turning the place upside down looking for it as I headed out the door.
In all seriousness, if you're planning on including Aikuisten Lelukauppa in your Helsinki itinerary, consider stopping by Pedro's place as well. It's literally right next door, so it's impossible to miss, the food is great, and the hospitality, well...if you've read this far then you've probably figured out it's second to none.
Afterwards I took the time to explore the city a little more and went to see Helsinki Cathedral and check out the other sights around Senate Square. Extending my trip also allowed me shop more leisurely for family and friends before heading home for the evening.
Sunday was a day dedicated to doing absolutely nothing, which I felt I had earned, and fun fact: my Airbnb hosts were the proud owners of eleven (11!) cats, including the four kittens pictured above. All this while having a spotless home with almost exclusively white furniture. Why would you want to leave the house? I only realized long after the fact that I could have used my Sunday to take the ferry from Finland to Estonia and spend the day in Tallinn's old town, but I think the fact that it didn't even cross my mind just shows it wasn't meant to be. You can't fit everything in on one trip and you have to stop to rest at some point. All in all, a Sunday well spent.
Then the fateful day arrived! I got up, got ready, headed out the door, and took the bus to the stop nearest to the street where Aikuisten Lelukauppa is located. In the few minutes left where I was walking up to the shop, my heart started pounding and I was pretty sure I was gonna act completely starstruck but...it was fine. More than fine. There was only one other customer there when I walked in, and they left almost the minute I entered. I said hello and told Kari that I was the person he'd spoken to on the phone the other day, and he apologetically explained that he'd had responsibilities other than the shop to attend to that day which resulted in him leaving early. What followed was me getting almost 2 hours of his time just chatting, as it had been over a week since Helldone and there weren't many fans flocking to the shop. He truly is a gem of a person, he seemed more than happy (and I hope he truly was!) to discuss his interest in cars, the movie Taxi Driver, how he acquired a lot of the memorabilia around the shop, how he got involved in this particular line of work, the state of taxi drivers these days (NOT good, he’ll have you know!), some of the shows he'd seen on the Neon Noir tour, and asked me about myself as well. Thanks to Kari I learned about Aki Kaurismäki, a Finnish director who has lived in Portugal for over 30 years, and now have some new films on my to-watch list. He also provided me with some tips for things to do around the city, including enthusiastically telling me I should go swimming (eherm, maybe next time) and to visit Temppeliaukion kirkko, a Lutheran church that was excavated directly from solid rock.
I would be remiss not to point out a significant moment in my visit. Kari received quite a few phone calls while we were chatting, and most of the time the phone ringing would prompt him to cry out, "Perkele!" One of the calls, however, he simply answered without any fuss. I could hear a man's voice but since the conversation was in Finnish, I distracted myself with my phone. Once he'd hung up, Kari turned to me and asked, "Do you know who that was?" to which I replied, "Who?" and he exclaimed, "Ville!" then burst out laughing and grabbed my shoulders as my jaw dropped. Then he told me that Ville had called to ask a question about Kari's car (the famous Checker Taxi, I believe) and implied it was being used for some sort of project? We shall have to wait and see. It was a very cool moment anyhow. I got a photo with him as well and asked him to sign my Neon Noir CD booklet, which he decorated with his famous doodles and catchphrases, most notably "Kari Valo, Boy's Father."
A visit to Aikuisten Lelukauppa naturally demands that you buy some merch so I bought a new tshirt for myself with the alternative design (as a friend had gotten me the more well-known version during her visit a few months prior), merch for friends, and stickers, but also left armed with several Finland/Helsinki guides that Kari provided me with, and a map where he wrote down the name of the rock church. Cutest of all, he just up and gave me some vintage Moomins stamps, which I will cherish forever. After all this, I said I’d be heading out as I did not want to take up any more of Kari’s time but it was a highly memorable first visit, and while I seriously doubt he will ever come across this post I nevertheless feel like I have to express my gratitude to him for his time, his ear, and his generosity. Kiitos paljon Kari! ❤️
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This was the rest of my afternoon: a visit to the famous Cafe Regatta, which was very cozy, following Kari's advice and visiting the beautiful, peaceful Temppeliaukio Church, and finishing my visit off with an early dinner at a traditional Finnish restaurant, where I had the piniest tasting G and T of my life (I love the smell of pines, not so sure how I feel about drinking them). Couldn't have asked for a better last day in Finland.
The next morning I had to be up at 5 to catch a flight to Frankfurt and then Lisbon, but the discomfort of a super early flight paled in comparison to the happy, floaty feeling of discovering a new place to love and come back to. Thank you so much Finland, you were a dream! I hope to come back sooner rather than later and potentially write another Finland Chronicles, maybe in warmer temperatures! Moi moi for now, though!
And to finish this off, here's a little Aikuisten Lelukauppa haul with all the things I mentioned above, as well as a small Helsinki/Helldone haul, since I didn't think to do one for the very first instalment of this series. It includes a VVgram beanie, an eyebrow pencil and two eyeliners from Finnish brand Lumene (conspicuously absent was their Nordic Noir range, I wonder if Ville bought it all up lmao), and face wipes. Yes, face wipes, because they saved me multiple times when the snow settling then melting on my eyelashes would cause my mascara to melt and smudge all around my eyes. Pro-tip ladies: have some wipes in your bag when experiencing Finnish winter, or just snowy winters in general. Or maybe just wear a more resistant mascara than the one I use.
Thanks to anyone who read through these posts, and apologies for how much longer they got with each update. Nevertheless, I hope it was an enjoyable read and maybe even useful to those of you considering visiting Finland. Much love and here's to hoping 2024 brings many more adventures! 💙🤍
#finland#suomi#ville valo#vv#his infernal majesty#rock#metal#goth#travel#photography#scandinavia#nordic
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Sweet Paprika
a sexually repressed workaholic business woman enlists the services of the office’s fuqboi to help her be comfortable/confident enough sexually to seduce the man of her dreams. despite being only 12 issues the plot is jam packed with all the typical hallmark tropes but with a pg-13 rating (for the american release) and characters that hold more depth than expected.
the series is shockingly vanilla for a comic about devils and angels, which serves more for aesthetics and puns than lore or plot purposes. but there are two possible trigger warnings to be cautious about and that’s the initial slut shaming that’s prevalent through the first six issues and an emotionally manipulative ex.
the art is beautiful and stylized in a colorful cartoonish way that doesn’t take itself too seriously. it’s a shame that half of pages are over saturated by text that go to great lengths of spoon feeding the reader exposition. while the ending does resolve itself rather quickly, the journey was a fun ride. if you’re looking for a feel good comic with a happy ending then look no further. i laughed, i cried, i gave it a 4 out of 5 stars and put the spoilers part of my review below a read more.
i will come right out and admit my bias for this comic is deeply rooted in the fact that found myself projecting on to so many elements of this story it was insane. paprika’s relationship with sex, dill’s relationship with his father, anisette desire for recognition, even paprika’s trash ex, burnet, it was like mirka cherry picked aspects of my life and rewrote it into a romcom.
but aside from that, i really enjoyed how all the characters in the series whether protag or antag were given a chance to be more than just their archetype. no one is inherently all “good” or “bad” or too far beyond redemption (even brunet >:I) and speaking of characters i just want to gush over a few of the main players.
paprika. sweet sweet paprika. i love her so much. as far as romcom heroines go, she’s not as intolerantly volatile as some of the hallmark ones. i appreciate that she tries clear up misconceptions through actually talking to the other person and actually admits when she’s in the wrong (something that seems to be an impossible task for most hallmark heroines). her need to always clarify “petting included” is also a lil fun gag.
dill. need me a dill pickle sandwich amirite?? [[BRICKED]] i shouldn’t like this man as much as i do. he has all the makings of a typical fuqboi manchild and yet his desire to be “good” and pathetic allure has me captivated. also his communicate skills are next level. he stands talls where all other romcom heroes fail and i respect him so much for that + cute doggie uwu
za’atar. look, i don’t love him but i get it. he has a nasty temper, and a perfect mixture of possessive but still respectful. i like the contrast between his romantic life vs work vs the version that paprika has made up in her head of him.it’s very multifaceted. and i LOVE how nervous in bed he is. it’s not that he’s inexperienced but gosh, what a loser. i am once again captivated.
burnet. hate him. wish he had a worst fate.
anisette. bby girl bby girl. ty mirka so much for making more complex than the Bitch(TM). she’s still an archetype but a good one. i wish her nothing but love and happiness. i enjoy that she brings out a different side of za’atar and was able to be with him without being the “second” choice.
like i said, the ending was way too rushed bu this is one series where i’m glad everyone gets a happy ending (expect for burnet. die) and that’s a testament to just how great the characters are.
#Sweet Paprika#xian#ranted up a storm on this one#but gosh i really do love it so and hope others will read it and talk about it with me#a free version is linked in the title
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An elderly lady hustled onto a crowded bus carrying a large picnic basket. She stood right in front of a man and grabbed the overhead rail in such a way that the picnic basket was hanging over the man's face. The man politely offered his seat but the sweet lady declined saying she was going to get off soon. He tilted his head in a position that the dripping liquid ran over his lips. Having tasted it,he looked at the lady and asked, "Pickles?" The old lady replied, "No, puppies!"
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