#i gotta pack a cooler and ice

[canongf]

Are you going to/have tried the new st ice cream?? 👀👀

i haven't had it yet but i want to!!! the closest walmart is a little ways away so i gotta plan ahead if i wanna make sure it doesn't melt in the car ride home... but that void flavor is calling my name!!! so i gotta!!!!

[whelpimnauthuman]

So I just got my ice vest! MIL ordered 2 by accident (Spouse had asked if she could buy them bc Prime, she assumed it was for Spouse and BIL), so now I have so many ice packs. Like, as long as I have a cooler with me, I can take what I'm using, replace it with another frozen set, still have more left over.

I feel like the T-Rex with the grabbers

[roosterforme]

Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.

Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger

Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 

"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."

At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.

"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."

You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 

He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."

You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."

He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 

"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."

Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 

But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 

You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."

You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."

"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 

It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."

"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.

"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 

You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.

"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."

Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.

"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 

"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."

He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.

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

"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.

"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."

"Can I try one?"

"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 

Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 

"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 

"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"

"Yeah, it's fucking good."

A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.

"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."

Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 

Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"

The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.

I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?

He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 

"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.

"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.

I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.

When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"

"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 

Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.

Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.

Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."

"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 

Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.

Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.

But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."

"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.

"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 

"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 

When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."

You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."

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

When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.

"Home?"

He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."

"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."

Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."

"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 

"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."

You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"

The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."

The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."

The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."

You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 

"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.

"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 

Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 

"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."

"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.

You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 

"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.

"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."

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

You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!

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[jae-sch-writes]

Fruity Confessions

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1,584

Genre: fluffy goodness

Summary: After a hunt, the Reader gets very drunk. What will Sam do?

Warnings: alcohol consumption (like, a lot of it), mention of murder (nothing out of SPN norm), mention of smut (in a book), hinted at smutty thoughts

A/N: What's up Tumblr? It's been a while. Writing is gonna be all over the place because I have a kid now! (crazy, right?) But as a SAHM, I have a lot of free time to write, so here's to (hopefully), getting back into it. Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are no one's fault but me, myself, and I.

Want to read more? SPN Masterlist Full Masterlist

You were a fruity drink kinda girl. While the boys had their variety of beers, you preferred Smirnoff Ices or a seltzer of some kind. When the situation called for something a little harder, like at the end of every hunt, the Winchesters drank whiskey, and you enjoyed a bottle of wine. 

With each state you’ve gone to, you made sure to find a winery from that state, and if they had a fruity-flavored bottle, you were definitely getting at least one. This time- Wisconsin.

A hunt had brought you to Green Bay: at Lambeau Field to be specific. Home field Packers’ games were canceled after eight different fans of the Detroit Lions were found dead after their game. It didn’t take long to find out it was a ghost, however, finding out who the ghost was was a different story. After lots of research, Sam had determined it was Bart Starr, the Packers’ quarterback during their first Super Bowl win.

“The dude’s buried in Alabama, so how the hell did he make it here beyond the grave?” Dean asked.

“One of Starr’s jerseys is at the Field. That’s definitely what he’s being tethered to, but it’s gonna be difficult getting it out of its case. Lambeau has all of their memorabilia in cases with alarms,” you said, not looking up from your book. After some moments of silence, you looked up to see Sam and Dean looking at you like you had three heads. “What? I know things.”

“Yeah, but about football?” Dean was shocked. “Not even the game itself, but the fact you just happened to know one of these random player’s jerseys was in their museum? It’s weird.”

“Dean, leave her be, she literally just told us what we’ve gotta burn.” Sam was impressed. While he had never been interested in sports, he was pleasantly surprised by your knowledge, however niche of a topic it may be. “But, I gotta know,” Sam turned to you, “how did you know that?”

“I’ve been to a game or two at Lambeau Field. My dad was a Packers fan.”

You happened to be the one to go to the jersey to burn it while the boys were your backup. The faded green jersey with the number 15 on it was lit up in its display case. You all knew it had to be in and out. Break the case, burn the jersey, and get the hell out.

The sound of shattering glass came with the sound of an alarm, alerting the guard at the entrance to the museum portion of the stadium. Bart Starr was throwing around Sam and Dean like they were footballs.

You had just barely been able to get a match onto the jersey before security was able to see you. Luckily, the small flame was enough to distract him and made him run in the opposite direction to get a fire extinguisher.

The next morning, as Sam and Dean were packing up, you drove to a state business called Festival Foods. There, you found their selection of state-made wines. You opted for a couple of labels all made of cranberries. If you were grabbing wines made in Wisconsin, you might as well grab ones made with one of the state’s bigger industries.

You spent the twelve hours from Green Bay back to Lebanon in almost complete silence. You and Sam reading your books, and Dean humming along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

The minute you got home, you grabbed the cooler and went to the kitchen. Your only thoughts were on the wine you had got and how you needed to try it.

“Y/N, you didn’t even grab your-” Sam’s sentence was interrupted by seeing you grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard. “I’ll go put your bag in your room.” Sam knew better than to get between you and your wine. The last time he tried that, he ended up on the floor from trying to cut you off for the night. Your love for wine and need for a drink after a hunt had given you the drunken power to somehow take him down, despite the size difference between you and him. 

Sam retreated from the kitchen to his bedroom. You took your bottle, glass, and book to the library and settled yourself into the loveseat you had picked for nights like these. 

About 3/4ths of the bottle in, you had abandoned the thought of a wine glass and just started drinking straight from the bottle. Your mind was wandering from the fantasy-romance you were reading and to thoughts of Sam. When you reached a smutty part of the story, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Sam in that way.

You were now a bottle down, and made your way back to the kitchen to open up another one. It really didn't take long for you to finish the second bottle. You were stumbling to the kitchen, with the intent to grab your third bottle, when you were stopped by the table in the library, not at it, by it. You had walked right into it, almost like you forgot the large oak table was there. 

Getting to the kitchen truly was difficult for you, your drunken version of a marathon. Sam heard all of the commotion going on and took a guess on where you were heading. Usually he would leave you be, but being able to hear you walk into things, he decided to risk you being mad at him. 

He stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the kitchen, and let you walk right into him. It took him everything to keep him from laughing at your face when you were met with the wall of muscle. 

“Sammy, whaddya doin’ here?” Your words were slurred, but not incoherent.

“Preventing alcohol poisoning,” Sam grabbed your hand and guided you down the hall. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

“Can I sleep in yours?” Your drunken state left you with no filter. The words just came out of your mouth. 

“Ya know, given you walked right into me like I was invisible, that might actually be a good idea.”

Sam’s response invoked a giggle from you, and he couldn't help but smile. Even though you were stumbling down the halls of the Bunker, bumping into Sam every couple of steps, he thought you were adorable. You were usually pretty reserved and in control, but like this, you’re care-free, not calculating your every move. 

It took almost twice as long to get to Sam’s room as usual with how many times you bumped into him or tripped over your own feet resulting in him having to catch you. Sam told himself after the fourth time if you fell one more time, he was just going to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. Much to his dismay, that did not happen. He would have loved to know your reaction in the morning if you remembered him doing that. 

When you finally reached Sam’s room, the first thing you did was flop on the bed, or attempt to anyway. Thankfully, you fell just short of landing all the way on so your head never hit the floor. Sam chuckled and helped you up. Before laying back down, you took off your shirt, leaving you in just your bra and sweatpants. 

This wasn't the first time Sam had seen you without a shirt, or the first time the two of you shared a bed, but this time was different. This time you were drunk and didn't really know what you were doing. In your drunken state, you were just getting ready for bed, for Sam, he couldn't help but think that you thought of him as someone safe. Why else would you have asked if you could stay with him tonight?

Sam got you comfy on the bed, all the while you were giggling up a storm. Sam looked at you and smiled. “What? What's so funny, Y/N/N?”

“Nothin’. I just think you're cute. And tall,” you looked at Sam with big eyes and a goofy grin. “Oh my gosh you're so tall.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam chuckled. “Let's just get you to sleep, alright?”

You nodded as he helped you make sure you didn't smack your head against his bed frame. Sam grabbed the small trash can sitting at his desk and brought it to your side of the bed. You usually held your liquor really well, but given your state, he didn't want to take any chances. 

“Sammy?” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” your voice got serious. Sam knew you'd be falling asleep soon, you always stopped being goofy towards the end of the night. 

“I mean it. I really do,” Sam knew you weren't just saying that because you were drunk. If you were talking, your filter may be going, but you mean every word that comes out of your mouth. 

“I know you do,” Sam smiled softly before crawling into his bed behind you and pulling his blanket over the two of you. He let his arm fall over your side and rubbed his thumb in small circles over your stomach. He hated not knowing if you were going to remember this in the morning. 

He waited to hear your breathing become slow and steady before whispering, “I love you, too, Y/N/N.”

Tag List

@train-wrecc

add yourself HERE

[urhoneycombwitch]

thibkinv about an Eddie cuddle, an Eddie snuggle, if you will. When it's the kind of morning cold that gets into your bones and doesn't seem to go away no matter how much you bundle up so you gotta seek warmth in his arms all cozy

here’s the thing I think Eddie is headcannoned a lot as having bad circulation ie cold hands and feet bc he’s a slender lad but I think he is deceptively warm

like on hot summer nights when you’ve both done all you can to beat the heat (there’s a fan in the trailer window to pull in all the cooler air, sleeping with ice packs and thin lil sheets) it’s pointless bc Eddie’s such a snuggly sleeper. you wake up drenched in sweat w your 100-degree boy draped happily over your body snoring in ur ear 😑

but winter mornings w your own personal space heater are the best!! you actively seek out his warm skin, bullying ur hands underneath his sweatshirt to warm em up on his belly. Eddie’s too sleepy to gripe at you and plus he loves the attention 🥰

[galaxycunt]

My Dinner With Buggy

Author warning: this is dialogue only. Why? Because I wondered if I could do it and so here it is I’m lucky I had power the whole time in my house during this ice storm bc I’m so bored 😭

Summary: You are waiting on a man, you haven’t seen each other in quite some time. Not since you were a bright eyed recruit and he was a young captain with more ego than sense.

“Welcome in! How many?”

“Two, please,” as you sat you said, “a bottle of house red, thank you.”

A hand tapped you on the shoulder some time later, “I never tire of that joke. You’re looking good.”

“Buggy, wow. It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah, not every day a marine wine and dines me.”

“I can think of a few officers who’d like that, now.”

Buggy frowns, “you told them, didn’t you?”

You shake your head, “Buggy, I didn’t even know you were with the Roger pirates. I found that out from the snails like everyone else.”

“Huh. Swore I told you. I guess…I never tell anyone that shit.”

“Hey, doesn’t matter. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Buggy laughs, “god, it’s been forever. Remember when we climbed up the mast of the first Big Top?”

“Hm. Yeah. Tiny Top. That ship sucked. I remember beating you up there.”

“Oh fuck off, I let you!”

“I beat you by a whole 30 seconds!”

“I’m not letting a fucking marine talk shit while I’m trying to enjoy my damn dinner.”

You laugh heartily as the waiter arrived, “I’ll have the pasta special.”

“You paying or what?” You nod, “prime rib. Gimme a steak bigger than my head.”

“You sure ain’t a cheap date, Bug.”

“Oh! So this is a date? Okay, you sure you don’t wanna thrown in with the guy who tangoed with the best and came out on top?”

“I…I think I am quitting. I saw your little movie debut. He…he was just a kid. Both of them.”

“Y-yeah. He really was.”

“I guess that’s the life we choose.”

Buggy sighs, “let’s not think about that. I’m here, you’re here. This is a date.”

“Is this a date? Okay, what lines does Captain Buggy pull on these things?”

“What’s your sign?”

“Libra.”

“I’m a Libra moon, they say a sun and moon sign being the same means they’re meant to be.”

You shake your head, “you’re so full of shit. Is that even your sign?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Take me on more dates like this and I’ll tell you the truth.”

You can’t hide your smile, “shut the fuck up.”

“Join me, I’ll treat you so good.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’ll be fun. I won’t even make you wake up at dawn.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“A beauty at my side every day, that’s all.”

“You just want trade secrets, don’t you?”

He looks offended, “I ain’t that bad a guy. But my lips are sealed, if you wanna give anything up.”

“If you want secrets out of me, you gotta give me something to work with.”

“Work with?”

“What’s your big secret, tough guy?”

He chews the free bread thoughtfully, “the rumors are true. I washed Gol D. Roger’s underwear. Though I tricked Shanks into doing laundry duty more.”

“How?”

“Packing gunpowder is way cooler. Only chumps think laundry is better. Just cause you do it once a month.”

“Sounds about right for pirates. Marines make you clean the toilets with a toothbrush every day.”

“See what I mean? I wouldn’t let you lift a finger.”

“I might hold you to that.”

“I’d be so good to you.”

In between bites you say, “I joined only because I needed the money. My dad was a marine, the pension don’t pay much if you’re just one of the grunts. He wasn’t happy I did it. They had a nice sign on bonus.”

“Is that really a secret?”

“Well, maybe. People on base like to act like they’re doing it for the greater good. Justice and all that shit.”

“Snooty fucks.”

“Oh yeah.”

He smiles, “see? Gotta join me now.”

You blush as he watches you eat, “what?”

“Nothing. Just nice. You write and call less and less these days.”

“Hey, man. You do have a bounty. Though I guess I don’t have to be as careful.”

“Heh, yeah. Maybe we can see each other more….especially if you join.”

“Let’s not talk work, tell me anything else.”

“Like how lovely you’re looking?”

“Look at you, wearing something clean.”

“So this is a date. Let’s go for another drink after this, my treat.”

“Twisting my arm over here.”

“I’m a pirate, baby. I have my ways.”

You can’t stop smiling, in spite of yourself, “last time I saw you, you threw your head at me.”

“I remember.”

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Yeah, I really didn’t want those fucks taking me in. Even if they were your buddies.”

“No, no. Not that.”

He hums, “I think I remember.”

“Don’t be a dick, Buggy.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense then.”

“If you don’t remember, then I won’t say it.”

He stares for a beat, studying you, “I’m sorry for teasing. I do, I always will.”

“You were so drunk I-“

“-I wasn’t. I lied.”

“Check please,” you flag a waiter down, feeling his eyes boring into you, “thank you.”

“Oh shit. No, I didn’t lie about that. I was sober.”

Relief floods you, “you’re so stupid.”

“I love you.”

“Do you, or just the young hot marine you met?”

“Baby, don’t be like that.”

“What if I’m tired of the sea, want something quiet?”

“I’ll visit. All the time.”

“Really?”

He nods, “I’ll treat you good. So, so good.”

“I love you too. Against my better judgement.”

“Let’s get outta here. When are you expected back?”

“I got three weeks off.”

“Just enough time to lay low with me.”

“Heard you got a new crew, all those prisoners. They won’t like me on board.”

“They think I’m their god or some shit, I dunno. We can rent a room somewhere. I don’t care.”

“You are something else.”

“I can be all yours, just say the word.”

“Let’s see how tonight goes then.”

“I’m gonna dazzle your pants off.”

“Won’t go for nothing less.”

[amostexcellentblog]

My original "Ice doesn't like Hangman" post became my first TG post to reach 1k notes so naturally it got me thinking of how they might eventually get along.

The Hangman's Guide to Winning Over Your Disapproving Admiral-In-Law

Step 1: Kill Him With Kindness

Coyote: What you gotta do is not take the bait. You're both stubborn bastards who relish a fight. He's a momma bear protecting his cub, he feels threatened so he picks a fight that he can win and assert his dominance. But if you don't take the bait then you show him you're not a threat, that you're not trying to take his cub away. So just be upbeat, polite, and pleasant no matter what.

Hangman: What do you mean? I'm always pleasant. I'm a goddamn delight to be around! It's not my fault the old fart is too senile to realize how lucky he'd be to have me for a son-in-law!

Coyote: Yeah, do the exact opposite of that.

*1 Week Later*

Hangman: *Smile plastered on his face* We're almost there sir. Thank you for letting me pick you up, I know Roo appreciated the extra time he got to spend with Mav.

Iceman: I'm thirsty.

Hangman: I thought you might be sir, so I packed a small cooler with an assortment of healthy, non-carbonated beverages for you, kept just slightly chilled below room temperature.

Iceman:...

Hangman: *Smiles Harder*

Iceman: Ooh, what smells like mustard?

Hangman: Why, it must be from the In-N-Out Roo and I got after our hike last week. I thought I'd aired the car out. Thank you for pointing that out sir, you truly have a nose for air quality.

Iceman: There sure are a lot of ugly people in your neighborhood. Whoa nelly! Look at that one!

Hangman: Huh, I suppose he does have a unique appearance.

Iceman: Keep your eyes on the road!

Hangman: I'm sorry sir, thank you for reminding me to always observe road safety... Oh look, we're here! thank god.

Iceman: There are too many leaves in your walkway!

(Cont)

[callsign-joyride]

I'm so excited for Summer of Smut!!! Whenever you have time can you either do My sweetest pea Bob with 19 or Coyote 10. Thank you❤️❤️❤️

Also congrats again for being almost done with your classes! So proud of you!!!

Tastes Like Strawberries | Javy "Coyote" Machado

Summary: Javy tries to fix your AC during a 4th of July cookout

Pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x f!reader

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f!receiving), fingering

Prompt: "Fuck… just… right there! That feels so good!"

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

When you had decided to host the 4th of July cookout for the Dagger Squad, you didn’t plan on your AC breaking down a few nights before. All of the windows upstairs were open and fans were running on high power throughout the house. Rooster was one of the first people to show up, and he immediately noticed when he walked in.

“It’s hot in here,” he said as he walked to the kitchen with a pack of beers and burger meat.

“Yeah, the AC blew a few days ago and no one can come out to fix it until after the weekend. I’m surviving, though.”

Bradley helped you finish setting things up outside while the rest of the Dagger Squad arrived. You had been so stressed about the AC and the cookout that you forgot to get ice for the coolers, so Javy greeted you with a kiss and said that he was going to run to the store to get ice. Phoenix got the music going and set out the fruit salad she brought and it felt like things were in full swing.

“Are they manning the grill together?” You asked Phoenix as the two of you turned to see Rooster and Hangman at the grill.

“Oh God, they might kill each other. I’m gonna help Coyote with the ice.”

You were talking with Fanboy and Payback when Javy wrapped his arms around you from behind. Maverick and Penny arrived with cookies and a pasta salad almost right as Rooster and Hangman finished making the burgers and hotdogs. Everyone sat down with their food and kept in light conversation. 

“I’ll be back, I gotta get a trash bag,” you said as you stood up and put your plate and empty water bottle on your chair. Javy agreed and followed you inside.

“You know you could’ve told me about your AC, right?” He asked.

“I didn’t want to bother you about it.”

“At least let me look at it? Maybe I could have it fixed and you wouldn’t have to pay a contractor way too much.”

You sighed and finally gave in.

“Tools are in the garage. Be careful.”

You walked back outside and Payback helped you weigh down the trash bag with a brick from the fire pit. Things started to calm down after everyone ate and you brought out some sparklers and yard-safe fireworks.

“There are vodka-infused popsicles in the freezer if anyone wants one. I have regular ones, too.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Fanboy shouted as he jumped up and practically ran inside. He came out with three and gave them to Payback and Hangman.

Everyone seemed occupied with their popsicles, so you decided to go inside and check on Javy. His shirt had been thrown on the couch and he had taken off the cover of the AC unit. The sight made you want to climb him like a tree.

“This thing is at least twenty years old, babe. I think you need a new unit. Stay with me for the next few days. I’ll get one first thing on Monday.”

“But Jake-,”

“The high for tomorrow is 95. I’m not letting you stay in this sauna of a house if it’s that hot out and I don’t think he’ll mind.”

You couldn’t explain what came over you at that moment. Javy gasped in surprise as you jumped in his arms and started to kiss him. With your legs wrapped around his waist, he started to carry you over to the stairs as the kiss became more heated. You only stopped kissing so that he could carry you up the stairs without the risk of tripping, but he quickly got to your bedroom and threw you on the bed before hiking your dress up and taking your panties off. He stuffed them into his pocket and kissed you while rubbing tight circles on your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he started to finger you.

“You gotta be quiet. You’ve got open windows,” he said when he slowed down. You nodded your head and he pulled you by your ankles so that you were at the edge of the bed. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of Javy’s tongue on your clit. He used his free hand to hold your hips down as you became a writhing mess under him.

“Fuck… just… right there! That feels so good!” You gasped. Javy moaned into you as you came and slowly withdrew his fingers from you. From downstairs, you could hear the back door slide open and closed.

“Everything okay in here? Where’d you guys go?” Fanboy loudly asked from downstairs. Javy looked at you and chuckled before pulling your dress down.

“We’re good, man. We’ve got exposed wires up here.”

You tried not to laugh as Javy stood up and went to the bathroom to grab a washcloth.

“Oh, okay. We’re all gonna go and get ice cream. This was a good time, though.”

Everyone left and the two of you went downstairs to put all of the leftovers away and clean the yard. Both of you showered and you packed a bag and closed the windows before getting in the car with Javy. He called Hangman on the way back to their apartment and explained the situation.

“Her AC blew out so she’s staying with us for the next few days.”

You could practically hear the smirk on Hangman’s face.

“Was that the only thing that blew out?” He asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment.

“Do you think Fanboy knows?” You asked through laughter.

“Oh, he definitely knows.”

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha

[saleintothe90s]

489. General Foods International Coffee

(eBay seller dreamofthepast)

We all know thee lil cans. Some of them were probably out first forays into coffee, maybe our mom let us have some instead of hot cocoa on a cold day. No wait, this seems more like a drink your Aunt Patty n Selma would have at their house and drink every day. She let you have some to feel grown up.

Or maybe you shared a cup with your new Gothy roommate in the 80s?

Even the boys who played football enjoyed it!

and just maybe you sipped French Vanilla Cafe with your friends and joked "who was that waiter's name in Paris?" "JEAN-LUC!" like in the commercial. (yes I'm aware of the Mad TV bit)

Although in an article about annoying commercials that ran in the Rocky Mountain News in 1992, reader Dennis Lancaster said of the ad: "The ad that really bugs the heck out of me is that General Foods International Coffee ads with the two ladies there and the French cafe coffee or whatever it is. I wish they'd have stayed in France." 1

lil samples of Irish Cream Cafe was given out at Black Friday one year at Target!

I noticed that General Foods would advertise their instant coffee a lot in college newspapers in the 1980s.

See, even Corky on Murphy Brown dank it.

Before we had frappuchinos, there would always be the same recipe every year for a frozen or a cold coffee drink, just with a different flavor each year, it seemed.

(eBay seller dreamofthepast)

See what I mean?

(commercial)

In the late 90s, they came out with the Cappuccino Coolers drinks, which I adored back then. It was powder that you mixed with milk -- so yeah, gotta be near the bathroom when drinking those. Maxwell House just discontinued these this year. By then they were called iced lattes.

(commercial)

My all time GOAT when I was a teenager however was the Kahula flavor. I miss it every day.

(commercial)

Anybody remember the variety packs? They were like, half a serving! Enough for a mouse! The Suisse Mocha design always reminds me of the Murder She Wrote logo.

(commercial)

(commercial)

General Foods International Coffee debuted in 1973 with these three flavors. Looks like Cafe Au Lait became Cafe Francais shortly after. You walk into the store today, and guess who is still there almost every time:

(Maxwell House took over around 2011)

I bought all three flavors in the last month and yup they all taste a lil watery. Maybe 'cuz we're just used to stronger coffee in 2023.

Related:

Maxwell House International Coffee Still Missing General Foods, Jean Luc

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | YouTube Playlist | Random Post | Ko-fi donation | instagram / threads @thelastvcr​ | tik tok @ saleintothe90s | eBay shop: deadmalls |

ABBOTT, KAREN. "'FEMININE' PRODUCTS SPARK MAJORIOTY OF READER CALLS." Rocky Mountain News (CO), March 12, 1992: NewsBank: Access World News. https://infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/news/document-view? p=AWNB&docref=news/0EB4D9FC6ACBBE66.

[elizabethplaid]

daily notes - june 26, 2024

-- Ooof, my senses are iffy tonight. Good thing I know it's just my anxiety ramping up for tomorrow's dental appointment. Little woozy-dizzy in the head, a fav-food smelled too strong, fingertips hurt as I rest them on the keyboard.

-- Went to bed after 8:30, on my phone til after 9:30am. I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but it took awhile, so we'll say 10:30am? Woke around 6pm, surprisingly. If I did wake up in between, it wasn't for very long.

-- Tonight, I'll shower and then go straight to bed; try to avoid using my phone. Gotta leave by 9:45am, so I'll set my alarm for like 7.

-- This appointment will be a test of "how far will it set me back if I'm already feeling bad?" Remember, I'm still in this state from early-May, which is already a level-up from the Feb-March depressive point.

-- --- Might bring my bear Since with me, especially since she's a perfect signal that I'm feeling bad. Already bringing a water bottle, might pack some extras in a cooler. Ooh, ice packs would be a good stim toy, too.

-- I've been alternating drinking tap water and my usual soda. (Water has to chill in the fridge to be tasty, so I drink soda in the interim.) If my senses aren't too fussy, I'll try to pick up 2nd water bottle tomorrow.

-- Cleaned the bowl section of my sink, but not the countertop part. Just negotiating with myself to clean tiny bits of things at a time. Better to nibble than bite off more than I can chew, so to speak

-- Will also remove nail polish tonight and trim nails. Probably not going to repaint them until after my appointment, if I do.

========

-- I noticed tonight that I'm having a stronger reaction of joy to funny things. While watching D20 and talking with my dad, I was clapping my hands at jokes - more frequently than I usually do. I had to switch to shaking out my hands, so my dad could keep talking. Clapping makes noise and is disruptive to the flow of conversation.

-- --- Dad said it was good that I felt joy, even if I had to express it like this. I'm feeling more comfortable using more stereotypical autism stim-actions to cope with things and express myself lately.

-- In my dream today, I was utilizing more stim-actions and not trying to "act normal" (eg masking) by hiding my reactions and feelings. I was with a new group of people, but they were accommodating of my needs. Maybe a room had been too noisy or I was getting overwhelmed with something. Can't remember the specifics, but I felt supported by others. Not outright confident, but mostly comfortable.

=========

-- I've combed through my music archives and listened to some older things recently. AFI's "Sing the Sorrow" has quite a stronghold on my brain, surprisingly. The album isn't emotionally significant, but I guess I played it a lot in a short period of time? A few songs from Nicole Dollanganger's "Curdled Milk" and "Flowers of Flesh and Blood" are sticking out, as I listened to them heavily before and around the time my mom passed. Taps into some heavy feelings, in a good way.

-- --- Tried Coldplay's "Parachutes", but the whole album still hurts, 20+ years later. I had gotten it right before something big and bad happened to me - a big factor into my anxiety development. Like, if it had gone worse, I wouldn't be here today. I can listen to some of the songs out-of-context, but the album as-a-whole brings no joy.

-- Why am I breaking out the big guns of nuclear earworms? Desperately fighting NSync's first album, which I haven't listened to in yeaaaars. My streaming friend played some of their music, along with her usual outro song being "Bye, Bye, Bye". Yep, time for the scorched earth approach for these monsters.

[gfkdhdkdhckhjfjj]

Hey! I have a little vanillite in my care currently, what is the best setup I should give her? She always tries to hide in the freezer, but it's not safe!

i like to let dip chill(ha) in the freezer when the doors open because i don’t care about my stuff melting (my fridge is completely empty), but if that’s not an option you can always have an ice box/cooler/whatever they’re called with some ice and ice packs in it for her to hang out in! while leaving it open a bit for air.

freezer is ice creams preferred environment you just gotta figure out how to make it safe and not killing ur food

other than that i just keep the house pretty cold and bundle myself up. that’s the price you pay for keeping ice types tho

[abubblingcandle]

i saw your recent post and i haven't read the snippet yet bc i got distracted by you saying it was hot and i think you're european right? so no AC? as someone who lives in the southeastern US, allow me to bestow some comfort tips for unreasonable summer temperatures without air conditioning. apologies if you know all this already or anything, but i'm currently surviving one of the worst heat waves i can recall in my 40+ yrs of living in the ass end of the devil's swamp so i'm a little zealous about making sure nobody is dying of heat

(my credentials are that the heat index was over 110F - 43C - every damn day for over a *month* even central air can't keep up my house hasn't been below 80 since early june)

at night, open at least two windows. put the fan in front of one of the windows, with the back facing the window, so it'll suck in cooler air. warmer air will get pushed out the other window. even better if you have two fans, have one sucking in from one window and one pushing air out the other window

during the day, keep the windows covered as much as possible and overhead lights off. i have blackout curtains for this. i have also put aluminum foil (shiny side out) on the windows like those windshield covers before. it worked but was a pain in the ass to put up and take down

wet several t-shirts and stick them in the freezer. rotate accordingly while lazing about indolently like a freeloading lion (seriously those mfers are thee worst)

ice packs on pulsepoints. wrist, groin, neck, wherever you can strap a bag of frozen peas i don't judge

keep ice water in a spray bottle and mist yourself in front of your fan for evaporative cooling. un-iced water will help too but obviously iced gets you maximum relief

the bowl of ice in front of a fan has never worked for me because it's way too humid here but depending on your humidity you could try it

i sleep with ice packs and a towel covering my pillow because the pillowcase getting sweaty is a sensory nightmare and the towel is somehow less horrifying

popsicles (i'm assuming that's what an ice lolly is?) are excellent keep it up. also to counteract the effects of sweating your balls off, you can sprinkle a little salt on the popsicles. i do this with the watermelon ones

if you are subject to the horrors of boobs in a heatwave, my remedy for swamp tits is to adhere panty liners to the part of the bra that goes under the boobs. because nobody wants swamp tits (i might also have been known to put a bag of frozen peas in my bra you do what you gotta do)

liberal and self-indulgent amounts of whining. it won't make you any cooler but at least you're sharing the misery

You are an absolute angel. Yeah I'm a northern Brit so no AC (I have taken to hiding in coffee shops where there is AC but unfortunately they ... you know ... close) and my body functions on the belief that anything above like 12C is t-shirt weather and anything above 25C is dear god no weather so I am truly not built for this 🙈 I once spent one day in 40C and it was the worst experience of my life so I could not do what you're going through!

So tips from someone who has to endure worse than this and regularly are super appreciated 🧡🧡

Some of these I did know but some of them sound like real good shouts. Unfortunately the damn health and safety of my flat means my windows open only a teeny tiny and I have slatted blinds but foil over is a super good shout.

I don't know why I hadn't thought of freezing wet t-shirts. Cause the problem I was having was wet tshirt then just turned into warm and still wet tshirt. Hence sitting in front of the fan because it then stayed cooler but frozen ... yes

And omg yes for wet pillow sensory nightmare, just had to say, yes makes my skin prickle.

Popsicles are ice lollies yes! I'm currently on a mix of strawberry frozen yoghurt ones and these absolute nostalgia on a stick

And the whining is required. Me and my dad have a daily chat and today's was talking about how shit England were in the football and both of us going "what did you do today?" "Sit about because it is too fucking hot" "Yeah me too"

[pumpintwinmama]

Pump Review - Motif Duo, Medela Pump in Style, Momcozy M5

The first pump I got was the Motif Medical Duo.

Pros - It's portable and the charge seems to last long.

Cons - I'm only two and a half months postpartum and the suction already seems to be going caput. At first I thought it was because I had the wrong flang size, but after resizing and resizing again I found the right flange sizes for me, but I have gone from only using levels 1-4 to now staying on level 10 and getting very low output. I could reach out to Motif because this time frame should definetly still be under warranty, but this is the pump I got for free with insurance, and I just got wearable pumps that work better. I don't think I would continue using the Duo even if I got a replacement.

The second pump I got is the Medela Pump in Style

Pros - I believe them when they say it's hospital grade! The suction is comparable to what I remember of the Medela Symphony when I was in the hospital, and I actually used that quite a bit because I had to be in the hospital twice (a traumatic story for another time). It also comes with a really nice pumping bag, and mini cooler bag and ice pack for if you're pumping on the go.

Cons - Like all wall pumps.....it's a wall pump. You just gotta commit the time to jut sitting there. It does have a battery pack, but that doesn't really turn it into a portable option in the true sense.

*The Medela Pump in Style is on sale on Amazon for $147 right now which is a really good deal.

My most recent pump purchase is the Momcozy M5

Pros - Great suction! So far it has been comparable to my Medela pump which is not the expectation for portable pumps. They are fully in bra so you don't have a motor sticking out the top (this was a concern for me for work from home meetings). This pump also has a nice carrying case, and it's sturdy which I appreciate because I'm clumsy! Best of all is this comes with 5 different flange sizes. I feel like most pumps nickle and dime you for the right size. They usually come with 24s and 27s knowing full well the average nipple size is 17-19mm. This one comes with 24 and 27 flanges and 19, 17 and 15 flange inserts.

Cons - So far my only con is I wish the battery life was longer because you have 2 pumps to charge not one. It comes with a charging cord for each but depending on where I am, or what I'm doing I need to charge them one at a time.

*The Momcozy M5 is currently still having a 10% off coupon available on Amazon.

In conclusion, I'll be using the Medela Pump in Style first thing in the morning and for my last pump at night when I do my power pumps, and the Momcozy M5 for the rest of the pumps during the day. The Motif Duo might be good IF I indeed got a dud, but I'd say probably try a different portable or wearble pump first. At anyrate, Here are all 3 linked again.

Motif Medical Duo Medela Pump in Style Momcozy M5

*If you buy through my link, I get affiliate funds. Help a new single mom of twins out!

[puffycloud2]

candy corn: I LOVE IT 😭 my favs gotta be the little pumpkin ones

Licorice: mostly I've had red licorice but I like black licorice ice cream so maybe I'd like it normally (?) Also I've never tried those licorice bundle packs

But I'd bet they'd taste amazing 😭

Peanut butter and chocolate: ehh, I like it but I mostly don't like it, it's good and all at first but once you've had a lot, it kinda loses it's charm, texture is funny feeling though, good on my tongue

Mint and chocolate: it's good, I like Mint by itself but with chocolate it looks cooler

Sour candies: depends on the kind, I like blue raspberry,watermelon, and cherry type sour candies, lemon is kinda my least favorite (next to fucking orange, ewwgh) sour patch Kids are goofy

Goddammit I bet I put more work into this then how I write an essay for school 💀

candy discourse, reblog w/ your opinions on

• candy corn • licorice • peanut butter + chocolate • mint + chocolate • sour candies

[rocknrollsalad]

stranger things writers guild daily prompt: weed delivery

😠 starglye | modern au | 987 words

🪻 steve has a bad day and argyle tries to make it better (even when steve is being a jerk)

🍕 content/trigger warnings: implied drug use

[ 8:09 am ] I’ve been on the clock for nine entire minutes and I want to come home. Does no one do anything in this place?!

[ 9:09 ] Delivery truck canceled. No way this is going to affect my day. Smooth sailing from here on out

[ 12:45 ] Would you wait for me if I went to prison? Murder isn’t a long sentence, right? [ 12:46 ] Or would you like to come kill me? Death needs to happen and soon. I’m not picky anymore.

[ 1:37 ] A woman tried to speak to the manager because I asked her how her day was. She said that was private information and I must be some sort of pervert trying to learn that much about the customers

[ 2:00 ] No lunch break for old Steve today. Who needs food when I’m fueled by the spite of all of the ASSHOLES who come in here. Gluttony or some shit, right? [ 2:01 ] Two more hours left. Two more hours. Two more [ 2:05 ] 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[ 3:52 ] I hate everyone and everything. [ 3:52 ] I ordered a pizza. If it gets there before I do, don’t eat anything. [ 3:54 ] If you eat so much as one pepperoni, I will absolutely lose it. Pack my car and go back to Hawkins.

[ 4:10 ] Sorry. I didn’t mean that.

—

Steve was obviously having a bad day. Argyle couldn’t relate. He loved going to work and seeing all the people that came in but maybe the customers were cooler at the pizza place. It was kind of hard to be mean when you were getting pizza.

Things couldn’t have been too bad, though. Pizza wasn’t Steve’s “feel better” food. He liked sweets. Ice cream, candies, and cookies from that one ghost kitchen that made shitty sandwiches. Pizza was probably a peace offering, which made Argyle feel special.

It made him want to do something for Steve too. Argyle’s day was great, he remembered to get the laundry from the washer into the dryer and got to spend the rest of the time playing video games. He didn’t deserve a feel-better pizza.

So, he texted a friend to call in a favor, sent another to his coworker to leave the pizza at the door, and went off on a walk. Steve needed something special and there wasn’t much Argyle could buy him that would help. Money wasn’t everything though.

It didn’t take long to “borrow” flowers from neighboring houses. By the time Argyle had walked the block, he had more than he could hold in his hand. Carefully selected flowers in a variety of colors and sizes were put together in a good-looking bouquet. There wasn’t a heart black enough to hate this.

Argyle was already mentally putting them in a soda bottle to sit in the middle of the table where they were supposed to eat meals. They never did, the couch was way more comfortable, but it made the house look grown up. Fresh flowers would really make it look grown up. Probably make it smell amazing too.

He must have been excited because Argyle managed to beat Steve and the pizza home. Following through on the mental plan, he readied up the flowers. Excitement building for how impressed Steve was going to be. He was definitely going to love this and Argyle couldn’t wait to show him.

The pizza beat Steve. Argyle listened to the orders and carried it right to the table. He didn’t even peek inside to see what it was though this likely wasn’t the time Steve decided to deviate from the norm.

Thankfully, Steve wasn’t very far behind the food. Looking like he fought a war to get him, Steve threw all his stuff on the ground and struggled to get his shoes off, grumbling the whole time. Argyle’s eyes bounced from the beautiful table of things to make Steve feel better and the grumpy man he dated.

“I gotta find a different job,” Steve said, blowing right past Argyle and to the fridge, looking at the shelves for a cure for capitalism.

“We can check for postings later,” Argyle encouraged. Motioning to the table, he grinned. “I got you something.”

Steve looked where Argyle’s hand directed him to. “I ordered that. You just took it from the guy.”

“No, look closer, man.”

The eye roll wasn’t necessary but Argyle decided not to say anything as Steve tried to figure out what he was looking for. Giving him a little help, Argyle leaned in towards the makeshift vase.

“Ah, weeds. Sweet. I love them,” Steve deadpanned, turning his attention back to the fridge and whatever mystery item he was looking for.

“I’m pretty sure some of them are real flowers.”

“Mrs. Carmen will kill you if she finds out it was you messing with her garden.” Settling on one of the cans of flavored water, Steve slammed the fridge closed and went to grab a plate. “She won’t,” Argyle said with a shrug. Enthusiasm leaked out of him and he didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t a way to make this better.

When Steve approached his dinner, Argyle reached out and pulled Steve against him. “You gotta let it go, dude. I mean, it’s how they win, right? Get you so bogged down you’re only thinking about work. Even at home.”

Steve fought relaxing, gripping tight to his anger and frustration. “It just sucked so bad.”

“Right on, yeah. It does that sometimes though. We got you good things, we’ll chill and watch movies, I don’t know, man. Don’t let ‘em ruin your night. And we got the best stuff, cool stuff here to make you forget about that shit.”

“Pizza and…flowers?” Steve said with a condescending laugh.

“I couldn’t afford a whole flower delivery.”

“So you went with a weed delivery service? Budget friendly.”

“Nah, that hasn’t come yet. I just went and picked those.”

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

Every child is born into a new family. The family that I was born into had no other children. I was gonna turn out to be either an only child or a big brother.

I was born into a house on Parsells Avenue which my parents had bought from my grandparents who moved to Holcomb. Our house on Parsells had an upstairs a downstairs an attic and a basement. For some reason, I was afraid of the attic but loved the cellar. The cellar even had a coal bin within which I enjoyed playing and making a mess.

My father had a workroom which fascinated me in its organization but never interested me as much as his bookshelves. I opened every book on that shelf and over the years I have read many of them including Walden, In Dubious Battle, Arrowsmith, Tom Sawyer, Animal Farm and many others. My favorite was Pinocchio which contained a particularly horrifying picture of Monstro the whale.

None of those original books have made it into my library although Pinocchio came close.

I do have one heirloom from that library and it is a curious one. The survivor is a catalogue and price list for the Match Corporation of America out of Chicago published in 1949. It is one of my most prized possessions.

I had to be at least four years old the first time that I saw it. It didn't look like other books. The cover was embossed leather, black red and white. When I opened it for the first time, I immediately became obsessed. The book was filled with sample match packs of different quality, style and expense. Every match pack was designed to catch the eye of a potential customer as well as to feature certain specific lines of business.

According to the text on pager 10.

Colors have great advertising value. Skillfully employed, they are a powerful stimulus. The right color treatment can make a picture of a fireplace look hotter…..a summer lake or an iced drink cooler.

The stimulus and color treatments started working on me. My father was a fireman so from my earliest days, I had a respect for fire and would never play with matches. Perhaps I substiuted that taboo with a passion for looking at matchbook covers rather than lighting matches.

During the summers, we spent glorious days at our cottages on Canandaigua Lake both of which were built by my grandfather after many a cool drink.

I'm figuring that the late forties and early fifties were the golden days of matchbook advertising, an advertising angle that was based upon good will and let's face it; smoking.

Watch movies from this era. Everybody is smoking. Watch the seductive method in which femme fatales accept a light from their victims; the touch of the fingertips to steady the match, the look into the eyes. and then the blow.Yeah, ya know.

So everybody liked to carry matches around just in case somebody wanted to strike up a conversation with that suggestive question, "Hey there, gotta match."

Book matches were an excellent way for businesspeople to give their customers and prospects an item that would be in continual use while serving as a daily necessity.

"Book matches are always on the job rendering essential service every hour of the day and night. As they serve, they repeat your advertising message constantly, insistently but inoffensively. Book matches are never refused when offered and are rarely if ever thrown away until the last match in the book has done its job."

Today, I took the book off the library shelf in my Southern home again. Yup, the catalogue survived our trip to Carolina. I opened the book for the first time in decades and I remembered even more secrets about the book and its influence on my life.

Amidst the dozens of matchbook front covers, top folds (saddles) and back covers neatly adhesed to the pages of the catalogue, there was an ironic total absence of matches as the adhesion to the printed page was made where the matches and the inside covers would have been if the models were complete and functional.

As for the missing matches themselves, they would have been carefully designed to avoid delayed action sputtering and fireworks. Each match head would have been carefully dipped into an ignition material to assure quick flaming with velvet smoothness. Each missing match would offer an equal distribution of ignition on every well formed striking head.

Die cutters used strong sturdy board was used for the creation of perfectly uniform match stems stems, which would always be stiff and firm always stiff to assure the reduction of bending and breaking. The collection of match heads in each book was carefully centered and stitched into the covers.

All of these qualities can only be imagined due to the adhesion of the sample books to the catalogue.

What can still be appreciated even after all these years are the front covers, the back covers the saddles and the striking surface.

The striking surface itself is smooth, even, responsive and prepared with exacting standards.

The manufacturers selected the paper stock of the covers based upon toughness, texture and smooth retentive coating. Skillful artists created the designs created using fine inks from skillfully etched engravings.

The matches can only be imagined like the places that the books advertised: The Nook on Roosevelt Blvd in Philadlephia Pa. The Nook was a "friendly place" where "you are a stranger but once" or Kit's Cocktail Lounge 333 A Street in Oxnard California; "a continental spot, you'll like a lot" or The Blue Moon 8436 Jefferson where the customers can dine and dance and "everybody has a good time".

I was so little at the time that I didn't even know what a "cocktail' was but it looked like the people ont covers were having a good time. These were all Sunburst quality designs. Someone had removed order 3106-SB from the catalogue which always bothered me. Who would do such a thing? Why would anybody want to ruin perfection.

There was a lot that I didn't understand as a child some of which still remains a mystery.

I have learned the importance of careful design, avoiding accidental fireworks, equal distribution of ignition, stiff resistance, centering, exact standards, smooth and even response, toughness, texture, reduction of breakage and retentive coating.

I'm gonna need all the emotional help I can gather from my learning resources, as my lifelong friend Johnny passed away yesterday. The calls are coming in and going out.

I got the call while composing this very piece

I showed him the book sixty five years ago.

Today he's Order 3106 SB.

Unlike 3106 SB, however, Johnny is gone but not ripped off. He led a full life and lived it according to his toughness, standards, measured ignition, indomitability, responsivity and good will.

We never know when we're gonna put away childish things. The last time that I opened the catalogue was the day that I showed Johnny the book. I think we paused at the pin-up matchbooks which I had once thought forbidden but had long since been blown away by Playboy magazine. We were good Catholic boys.

Sixty years have passed between the time I opened the book for Johnny which was the last time that I had opened the catalogue for anybody including myself. The catalogue had a brief hey day around the time, five years earlier, when Jimmy Welsh, Tom Bissonette, Mike Drexel, Richard Insalaco, Feeb and I embarked upon a stamp collecting fad that lasted about six months.

We all got these cheap stamp books and started collecting. Woolworth's and Neisner's downtown sold small bags of cancelled stamps and we all thought that we'd find a treasure amongst these throwaways. Hundred stamps cost a quarter which was the equivalent of five packs of baseball cards.

We bought those sticky things that you put on the back of the stamps to make them adhere and went about with our collections. My stamp book was a goddamned mess. Stamps in wrong places. Stamps losing their adhesive and dangling every time that I opened the book. The disorganized mess that was the stamp book revealed my lack of maintenace skills and disdain for organization.

My buddies would come over and bring their stamp books and we would compare collections. I would be continually surprised at the comparative shittiness of my collection. One day I got an idea, whenever my friends came over with their collections, I claimed that I had never really been a stamp collector and that my real passion was collecting match books. I would take out the catalogue with its formidable organization and consistent adhesion and present that book as my "collection." Most of my friends were amazed and some were scandalized/aroused when they happened over to the pin up section which I tried to avoid as near occasions of sin leading to temptation and awkward confession.

Hence, I gathered a false reputation as a fastidious collector who knew how to organize, adhese and value.. even as our innocence was slipping way like our boyhoods.

Fortunately for me, the stamp collecting craze ended as quickly as it began and I could put the catalogue away before my gimmick was discovered. I only took it out that one last time.

Baseball cards replaced stamps. I took care of those cards and still have many of them today.

I became friends with Johnny. We were together in the classroom of Sister Matthias in fifth grade. He sat across the room from me but when something unusual happened in the class or Sister made a joke or Father Feeney came in and started challenging us to think beyond the catechism, we would look across the room at each other and laugh. We both understood something about each other and the world that was common knowledge to us but hidden from others.

Many of the folks to whom I showed the catalogue and the baseball cards and the stamps are no longer with us although they remain with me in spirit and thus add soul to my cards and catechism to the catalogue. I hadn't opened the match catalogue until I was inspired to do so with a writing challenge to write about an heirloom which I am doing now in the midst of which as you now know, Johnny passed away suddenly but not unexpectedly.

Johnny had undergone way too many trials; Heart surgery, bone marrow, colon cancer, liver disease, radiation, chemotherapy. He sustained his good will and his humor throughout every struggle. He remained a faithful husband and loving father as he was going the distance with his wife of 42 years.

During one of his cardiac crises Johnny had been resusitated from the dead. This experience changed him even further as it gave him an even deeper appreciation of life and decreased his fear of passing. Plato claimed that philosophers didn't fear death because they practiced it every day with sacrifice, contemplation and meditation. By the time of his passing Johnny had become quite a philosopher.

I had spoken with him only a week earlier. He had been through a series of "procedures" since I moved down South. He was about to have his bladder removed which we knew was a dangerous and complicated operation. We had an opportunity during this phone call to reminisce about our days together. I got to tell him that I loved him. He remarked that somehow, through it all, we had emerged as successful happy men. His last words to me were "We'll see each other again."

I'll be contemplating the contents of that final conversation for the rest of my life

In between that final phone call and today I took the catalogue off the shelf. It did its job. I'm gonna put it back on the shelf now , maybe for the last time and contemplate Johnny in the spiritual world most assuredly not for the last time.

I'll see you again Johnny when I get home.