dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

[What's wrong with curtains? Picky. Emil scoffs, but like, he can live with this curtain criticism if it means Lalli will tolerate looking at rooms with him. He's into shopping, particularly at Ikea, true— but if Lalli never wants to see him again because he had such a bad time at Ikea after this, well. That would be the worst possible outcome.

Is it highly unlikely that a store could be that bad? Maybe! But still, he has Fears.]

If there are curtains, it's not my fault. Come with me!

[Off they go!! Does he have a favorite display room in mind...? He might but don't point that out about him, he's perfectly normal. He'll take them to a less hideous display area, which has curtains, but don't look at them. The couch is comfy, look at that instead.]

This is nice, right? I wish my place looked like this, but, hmm, you know. [You know?? He spends all his money on cake and motorcycles.]

[Lalli follows along without complaint, doing his best to focus less on the (incredibly loud) people around him and focus more on... Emil. It's not a perfect process; he fights the urge to yank the collar of his sweater right up to his nose as they pick their way through the crowd, but once they step into this fake living room that Emil just happened to find—hmm. So this is what Emil likes? Light, Ikea™-furnished spaces... and stickers on helmets, of course. He's learning so much today.

But after giving that chair a suspicious look, he walks over to the couch and gives it an experimental poke. ...Ah. Much nicer than curtains.]

It's... better. Brighter.

[That is indeed a compliment! Lalli approves of this simple space. But, uh, does he know what Emil is talking about here... no, because a) his room is Plain and he likes it, and b) most of his money goes right into a savings account. Emil's space, though? That's a curious thought indeed, for no real reason at all. Where does Emil go at the end of the day...]

...What is your place like?

["Place." Weird. Lalli drops onto the couch, sinking deeper and deeper into this overstuffed cushion as he waits for these deets.]

Edited (¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) 2019-02-21 05:48 (UTC)

[Ooooh Lalli, you wanna see his place?? So bold. Or, Emil hums while he considers how to make "well I used to have more money and now I have Less Overall" sound cool and impressive, while he leans against the arm of this couch now. Hmm... How does one sound cool about unfortunate financial accidents...]

Uhhhh, hmm. It's... conservative? [That is A Word but probably not the right one--] I still have my desk from when I was a kid because I can't afford a new one.

[Imagine a Place that is half adult furniture and half "do you still fit in that chair?" and that's the answer. Emil thinks this is objectively embarrassing, but he also thinks they are friends having a good time right now at a store, and that he has to be more, ah, forward than Lalli, so--]

You can come over sometime, if you want.

[Lalli probably hasn't changed out any of the furniture in his room except for the few things he absolutely outgrew; keeping a perfectly usable desk instead of buying a fancy new one seems a-okay to him, but—ah, an invitation? Is that really what that is? He watches Emil for a moment before, like, sliding his eyes to the side to study this incredibly interesting lamp. He's not thought about hanging out at someone else's place since he was a kid, and even then it was... so rare...]

Oh. [OH. This is brand new awkward territory for him, so watch him fidget with the cuffs of his sweater as he works out what to say. What would Tuuri whisper in his ear at this very moment—] Yes? If... you want me to.

[Presumably so, since he's the one who made the offer, but surely this is? Polite?? Or something??? He's Trying.]

[What's the lamp's name.

Anyway, this is not the enthusiasm Emil would have liked, but it's about what he expected, so-- can't complain. He can only wait and watch Lalli fuss with his sweater before he gets a whole, real sentence...]

Well, obviously. [Wait Emil Be Nicer] I mean, yes, that's why I asked! Something tells me you'd rather hang out in a place with fewer people, soooo... next time.

[The elusive Next Time, they can do a normal activity for normal adults. Shopping is a normal activity, but this is genuinely hanging out at Ikea, so they have yet to clear the lowest bar for normal adult behavior. Next time, Emil says, like he isn't a little too excited that Lalli would possibly come over? Weird.]

[ARÖD, apparently. Charming. But as rude as that "Well, obviously," sounded, Lalli is still... pleased... to hear it? Obviously he wants Lalli to come over. Obviously. That means that this trip must be going well, even though they're only, like, fifteen minutes into it, and that Emil miiiiiight just... like Lalli as a whole, not just Lalli the IT Guy.

...Good. Weird? It's both, which is why he decides to shove this vague idea out of his mind as he hops back to his feet. He feels happy-ish for... no real reason! Yeah!!]

Mm. Next time. [He has to quietly repeat that for his own benefit, don't mind him. Maybe he just likes the sound of it.] We can... watch something. And order in.

[Is this where Emil finds out that Lalli, a Taurus, likes sappy soap operas???? Probably not, because this idiot totally described a date without even realizing it. He just wants minimal! Human! Interaction! ...Aside from Emil!]

[That is a date and please watch sappy soap operas with Emil so that he can cry like a child and pretend he isn't. For his part, Emil is just as quietly pleased about Next Time, content to leave that as it is and maybe go find the food now before Lalli goes and makes it sound all... date-y.

Now, Emil has never been on a date, but he's seen movies, and that seems to be the general idea? But how do you ask a person if they're talking about a Date without immediately making it awkward? You don't, he decides, so he, uh, won't. He'll think about it later, whether it's supposed to be a Date and whether that would be... entirely objectionable, a Date with Lalli...]

Huh, [but he's not equipped for that kind of thinking right now, so let's move on.] That sounds great. Let me know when you have another day off, I guess?

[Perfect!! This is 200% of his usual socializing outside of work.]

I think we should go eat something.

[Sometimes it's nice to be Lalli? To be blissfully unaware that you just said some weird shit? Because while Emil is over there pondering whether or not that would be a date-date, Lalli is just, you know, giving himself a mental pat on the back for thinking of something cool and casual on the fly. Maybe he'll tell Tuuri about his shining moment when she asks him how everything went, and maybe she'll set him straight, but for now—yeah, he did good.

Anyway, his next day off... will be next weekend, seeing as how he has no social life to speak of, but thankfully he's too distracted by food to blurt that out at this point in time.]

We should. Before everyone else wants food, too.

[Who will tell him that there are probably the same amount in the restaurant... actually, don't. Just let him mosey back into the aisle in peace, because look, he's perked up a bit!]

This way?

[He's pointing in the right direction, but show him those cool shortcuts that only real Ikea aficionados know, Emil.]

Edited (i can type) 2019-02-22 02:43 (UTC)

[Maybe Tuuri will be proud of his ability to so smoothly get a Schrodinger's date with a beautiful Swede!! Maybe that. He did do good, anyway; Emil is incredibly pleased with how well this is going, and now he gets to show off Swedish food(tm), which is his favorite part.]

Sure, if you want to take the long way around. Come with me!

[This isn't a suggestion, this is only the prelude to Emil tugging his sleeve to drag him off on a secret, only somewhat circuitous route to the food zone. Fondly tugging, at least - he's all but linking arms and skipping the way there, but come with him! This path is only faster because it has fewer people packed into aisles, and that is because it involves cutting through several more display rooms in a way that, maybe, they're not supposed to do. It's fine! Swedes are allowed this privilege!]

You should try the apple cake! [he says, as he shuffles behind a couch and around a fake wall, casually,] I don't really know how much you'll like the other food?

[Because he only picks at his food when they have lunch at work. They have a children's menu, which Emil thinks about very hard, but wisely does not bring up. Maybe, if he has to be subtle...]

[Lalli isn't terribly fond of being dragged about, thanks, but—well, it's hard to be too upset about things when a) they're avoiding most of the other customers and b) food could be hiding behind any one of these corners Emil keeps whipping around. Who cares if the occasional employee they pass gives them a weird look? It's not like Lalli's paying attention to them; he's too busy trying not to run into random pieces of furniture, because Emil... isn't the best at picking paths.

But it's fine! Things are surprisingly fine, especially when apple cake is mentioned. With cinnamon, presumably... hot damn...]

Ah. [Hmm...] Is everything else weird?

[That is indeed his takeaway, because Swedish furniture store food being weird... seems totally fitting? It's not that he's picky. No way.]

[This is the Secret Ikea Path, known only to Emil, who is demonstrating once again that he's clearly spent too much time in this store. At least, as much as he makes them fumble around a couch corner, he doesn't need to backtrack. If this path were optimized for swiftness, he would be a genius...!!

Just wait, though, for the actual cinnamon buns... Cake first, because cake is a Meal. It's a miracle Emil did not drop dead a month after moving out to live on his own.]

Hmm, maybe? It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you eat anything besides sweets.

[Or like, only the lunch meat out of a sandwich, but that's not even a children's menu item.]

[Lalli grew up in a sugar-free household, Emil! He's making up for all of those missed opportunities! But even as he thinks back to, like, their most recent lunches—including the one Emil oh so graciously brought to him—it's not like he can really dispute this fact about himself. Sure, go ahead and read him in this store...]

I do. ...Sometimes.

[That's an A+ defense. He knows it. Just like he knows that normal twenty-year-olds probably don't live off sugar and sugar alone, as his cousins have often told him in a caring sort of way, SO.]

What are you getting?

[Maybe he'll try something new to look cool in front of his new Swedish friend... or maybe he'll dip his french fries into whatever it is Emil orders. He's a blast.]

[Oh, is he defensive?? That's kind of cute, but Emil isn't convinced until he sees it. When Lalli eats a whole meal and not just the dessert, then he'll believe this elusive "sometimes"...]

Meatballs.

[Duh, he's a Swede!! Look up Swedish stereotypes online and you will find pictures of Emil, being unnaturally beautiful and eating Ikea meatballs, and like, recycling and stuff. He thinks for a moment about the Ikea Menu, which he has naturally memorized, but it's not like it's hard-]

If you don't like salmon, you're going to be in trouble.

[Meatballs. It's not the worst thing in the world, but Lalli still pulls a face as he imagines an entire plate of stuff swimming in gravy. Swedes!! It's probably a good thing that Emil is facing forward...

Salmon, however, is... better. Edible, as long as it doesn't taste, like, too fishy. There's a fine line between things Lalli likes and things Lalli will not touch, but as the restaurant finally comes into view, he knows that it's do-or-die time.]

Mrh. [So he's not excited about it, obviously, but—] ...I'll find something.

[And as they close in on the slight line, he takes one look at the signs hanging above the serving stations and knows that the something is going to be... chicken tenders and fries! Plus a slice of apple cake, as per Emil's suggestion. Do not judge him as he loads this shit onto a tray... just let him walk up to the register in peace...]

[There are also berries. With the meatballs. Swedish cuisine(tm). Anyway, Emil is tentatively under the impression that Lalli will try to eat like a grownup today, out here in public... And those dreams are promptly crushed when he looks away from loading up his meatballs-and-mashed-potatoes(-and-also-berries) plate to see chicken tenders.

You take a boy to a furniture store and he wants tendies? That's certainly a choice. Emil just watches this for a moment, witnessing... but he will not judge as he follows Lalli to the register. Tendies......

As a generous gift, he will make sure to find a table that is not near any children and only minimal adults. You're welcome.]

You can try a meatball if you want.

[At least he's making an effort to eat an actual meal? Beggars can't be choosers, especially not where Lalli is concerned, so when their soap-opera-watching date occurs... hopefully Emil just, you know. Orders the food without asking for Lalli's input.

Anyway, while this table is a yes—um, those meatballs are a definite no. To his credit, he does look down and actually consider taking the tiniest bite of one? Cutting off the smallest sliver? But after a few seconds of mental back-and-forth, he settles for taking one of his fries and hesitantly dipping it into the gravy-covered mashed potatoes. Carbs on carbs.]

I don't.

[There! Simple! Now watch as he tries this fry and... deems it to be acceptable. Not great, mind you, but the gravy is okay enough for him to try the same thing with a new fry. ...Without asking. This is your life now, Emil.]

It's not... bad. [High praise!] It just looks gross.

Uh— oh.

[And to think, he wondered where that fry was going. He offered a meatball, not his gravy potatoes, so that's still kind of boundary-crossing from Lalli if he's going to be honest. And yet, he will live with it.

The first time.

...And okay the second time too. He even turns his plate a little so the mashed potato side is facing Lalli.]

It looks fine. [He sticks a meatball on his fork and wiggles it for emphasis. This is grown up food.] Eat your chicken.

[Please, Emil, he's not five! He'll eat his chicken when he wants to eat his chicken, which is why he... grabs yet another fry. He is proving a point. ...A dumb one.]

I will.

[Or maybe he won't, because after eating, like, four more gravy-dipped fries, of course his attention turns right to the cake. He's eaten a good amount of normal-ish food? For him, anyway. Surely he deserves a break... a chance to try the best-looking thing on the table...

Yeah, he's going for it, but first he's going to poke it with a fork a few times. He has to separate the layers, you know? See what's really going on, all while he wonders if he's saying too little. Proooobaby? It's not something that normally concerns him; silence is, in his opinion, absolutely golden, but again: the more time he spends with Emil, the more he realizes that he... kind of cares... what Emil thinks. About this outing, and about him. ...Friendship is wild.]

...Do you... come here very often? With people? [Mmph.] ...Friends.

[Nice. This is casual conversation at its finest! He is not wondering how talkative Emil's other friends may or may not be as he carves off the tiniest bite of cake.]

[Why? Why did he buy the tendies if not to eat them? Lalli is truly a mysterious creature. Emil is eating his meal like an adult, while he watches Lalli peel at his cake. This is honestly distracting him from whatever next topic he was going to babble about, like, how they have a food section in the store if Lalli wants to buy some of that gravy he's so generally-okay with— but the cake parts... Hmm...

Sure is an odd boy, that Lalli from IT. But Emil only watches, and doesn't judge, nor does he understand but only the judgment-free part is relevant.]

Oh, uh, [be honest, or try to seem cool?? They are in an Ikea,] nnno. You're the first! And only.

[Friend at Ikea, or friend general? Both, but he's not going to come right out and say that first thing.]

[He might just nibble on a tendie when he's done with his cake! Let him do as he pleases, which currently involves removing apple slice after apple slice while thinking about being the first person to accompany Emil to... this furniture store. That must make him the first person to call Ikea stupid to Emil's face...]

Aha. [And now, prepare yourself for Lalli's Very Accurate Conclusion:] ...You don't talk to many Finnish people.

[Otherwise he would've dragged fifty people out here to try and prove them wrong! Anyway, good luck following Lalli's logic.]

[Hmm... that's... technically true, but definitely not exclusive to Finns. For some reason, Emil is critically invested in the opinions of this weird boy dissecting his cake, and so he feels like he should... clarify? Somehow.]

Well, I guess not? You know how my Finnish sounds. [Horrid. If he had 50 Finnish friends, surely he'd suck less at the language by now.] But I meant, uhhh... I haven't really had friends since school.

[He didn't have friends in school either, but details!]

[Non-Finns will always butcher the Finnish language, The End, but—oh. That's not the type of response Lalli was expecting, which is why he puts his cake dissection on hold in order to look back over at Emil. A... joke? One of those things Lalli never picks up on?

Apparently not! Which makes sense, actually, when he considers how much time Emil has spent with the least sociable person in the building (re: him) as opposed to literally anyone else. ...Well. There's a quiet hum before he goes back to cutting stuff in half. What to say, what to say...]

...I haven't, either. [A pause as he pops a piece of apple into his mouth and thinks back to his school days, before:] Except for my cousins.

[A quiet admission that a) doesn't count and b) he doesn't sound all that bothered by. Look at these two losers sitting in a fucking Ikea... a Nordic tragicomedy...]

Hah, right, your cousins who like to stare at me.

[Those cousins. Maybe one day he'll actually say hello to them, and... maybe make an impression that isn't immediately embarrassing, if he's very lucky. Maybe! For now, they're just the Staring Finns, who judge him from a distance.

At least this Finn, his Favorite Finn, will judge him from across a table or office desk or display room couch-- and so on. Emil is relieved, in a strange way, that they're both friendless idiots - now that he's admitted it, he can relax! And without worrying that Lalli is just pitying him with this outing, which... could have been possible...

Yeah, no. Well then. He looks down and pokes at his food for a moment with an odd little smile on his face, pleased— but he isn't grinning like a fool when he looks up again.]

Well now you have me, and I have you. So we're both doing better now than we were before.

[That was just the Hotakainen Hello, Emil! Get used to it, friend. ...Friend. This obviously isn't the first time Lalli has thought about Emil being his friend, but hearing Emil openly acknowledge it—after smiling down at his food like a weirdo—is... definitely different. New. Like, he has an actual friend, and the friend is apparently... happy? To have him as a friend, too?? Mind-blowing, especially considering how little he's (thought he) cared about such things in the past.

...Okay, so maybe doing better isn't the stretch he initially thought it was. Hmm!]

Mm. We are, [he agrees, somewhat surprised at himself? It's right there in his tone, which is probably why he feels the need to follow it up with a firm:] ...But no more Ikea.

[Even though he's eating this apple cake at a steady pace.]

[Wow, love him the way he is, including his weird faces and love of furniture. Anyway, that little agreement is all Emil needs to be satisfied, so he can leave the soft dingus zone and go back to the regular dingus zone, which is the part where he acts like taking your only friend to Ikea is not a weird thing to do at all.]

Why not? You're having an okay time.

[There's food, and soft couches... It's a great place to be! And a great place to be Swedish, which is a special Emil privilege.

Alright, though; he'll bring up that other thing from before instead.]

You mentioned coming over next time? To my place?

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8 years later

every tag brings us one step closer to toe shoes

emil's marriage vows are to tolerate toe shoes being in his house

and lalli's: to tolerate the 847584 bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the shower

i bet lalli washes his hair with a bar of soap

um, please... lalli buys that suave all-in-one shampoo/conditioner/bodywash

emil gives him his own shelf so it doesn't taint his designer brands

one whole shelf for one tiny bottle... thanks

that's true love

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