#2 Bedroom 1 Bath

[musubiki]

Didn’t you say once that Oscar was the one who like inherited or bought the place that they run the shop out of and live in? So… is Oscar technically the boss cause he owns the place?

THAT WAS AN IDEA I HAD YEAH!!!!!!!!! i do think its a very funny idea if mochi does not actually own the lease to the building so one of them has the leverage to hold it over her head. cant be mean to oscar otherwise hes gonna kick us out LOL

but i think she does own the actual shop!!! hed be more like a landlord at that point

i had that idea back before lime joined the m34th because reasonably at that point oscar would be the only one with actual income, but actually now that lime has a really good job it wouldnt be too farfetched to say that hes the one who bought the house........hm.....

[thornshadowwolf]

This trip is alreADY A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!!

[brutal-out-here]

Forgot to mention that my sister and I spent 3 hours recreating a house we used to live in in the Sims 4 last night

[shopcat]

guy just pulled in bc we have a for sale sign and i got so nervous when he asked how many bedrooms it has i was like i don't know 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[lamiataxis]

Casa de muñecas / Dollhouse

🇪🇸 Pequeña casa tipo starter estilo victoriano, con dos dormitorios (de matrimonio e individual), baño completo, salón-cocina y exterior sencillo.

🇬🇧 Small starter victorian house, with two bedrooms (double and individual), full bath, open-concept kitchen and simple exterior.

[devastatedloyallute]

Since I don’t have anyone to share this with, I’mma share it with tumblr

My fiancé and I are going to be moving into our own house!! Within the month!

I’ve got a lot of big feelings about it…My dad is buying it for us. We are beyond grateful for it because we would have never been able to on our own. The only thing I’m disliking about the situation is how it feels like something they can hold over our heads. My parents are the type to blow the smallest shit out of proportion. It’s a very uneasy feeling…feeling that the slightest upset to them will make them rethink doing this for us.

It’s really more of a rent to own situation. We’ll be paying my parents $500 a month for 6 years, but after that we own it.

The decision to buy us a house was apparently a spontaneous decision. They knew someone who wanted my dad to fix up the house so they could sell it, but my dad just went “I’ll just buy it instead”

I’m super nervous but also really excited. Our own house. “Landlord” is my dad. I know he can and will fix any issues in the house.

I just hate the feeling of being indebted to someone. What could we possibly do to show how much this means to us? How much we really appreciate it…

[osseincactus]

OH we haven’t toured it yet (we got the call today) but our house is done so I’ll be moving soon :))

[ceburealestate88]

PRESELLING TOWNHOUSE MINGLANILLA HIGHLANDS PHASE 2

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[junktrout]

I don't think it should be legal to rent/sell/make places for people to live that only have 1 toilet

[cousinsam]

i'm really glad i no longer live in a dorm but in my parents's shitty house, even if said shitty house has terrible everything and i have to share a bathroom with 2 people, one of which being my older brother who seems to have a vested interest in the toxically masculine trait of not changing his towels frequently enough and in my last dorm i was in special housing bc trans and disabled so i had my own bedroom/bathroom with a door that opened by button and all i had to do was hold my ID in front of the keypad since the campus understood the hands don't work bit.

all that.

glad i don't live in a dorm anymore bc nobody needed to hear the coughing fit i just had from my diet weed vape pen.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Scare

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf

Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.

Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 

But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 

You. 

Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 

But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?

***

Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”

Simon shivered. 

And then he realised. 

Graves was coming for you.

***

You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 

You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 

Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.

You check your phone. 

Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.

There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 

You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 

Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 

With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.

The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 

1 kick…

2 kicks…

3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 

“That her?” The first man asks. 

“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.

You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 

One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”

He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.

They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 

Help me…

The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 

You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”

He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 

But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 

Simon…

Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 

Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 

The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 

You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 

From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 

You think… 

One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 

You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…

He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 

It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 

But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 

You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 

A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 

You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 

He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”

You do as he says. 

A deep exhale leaves your body. 

He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 

“N-no…” you blink back tears.

“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 

You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”

He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.

“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 

“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 

“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 

“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”

“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”

“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 

[rheya28]

Ridgeview Apartment [ Apartment + Gym + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

➽ Apartment Includes:

An open/closed concept floor plan. Kitchen with all new appliances Bathroom with shower and bath Gym & Bar Panoramic view of the city

➽ Apartment Units:

1st Floor: lobby, Bar and Gym 2nd Floor [Unit 1: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 2: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 3rd Floor [Unit 3: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 4: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 4th Floor [Unit 5: 4 Bed, 3 Bath]

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:00 Speed Build 17:30 Photos

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: Ridgeview Apartment Lot type: Apartment Complex w/ gym and bar Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, and tuds. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading !

Additional notes: You do not need to download all of the cc on the list as I only used 1 or 2 items from some of these set. Some items can be easily be replaced by what you already have!

I would however, download all heyharrie, pierisim, and felixandre sets that are listed as I used alot of their cc in the exterior and interior!

S-imagination : Nota Living Room [ Ceiling light Only]

Around the Sim: Shop sign [Barber sign only]

The Clutter Cat: Busy bee Pt 1 [ Green table Plant only], Dandy Diary [ Concrete coffee table only]

House of Harlix : Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Orjanic, Kichen

Bbygyal123: Balance Collection [ Yoga mat ]

Felix Andre: Berlin Pt 3 [ Office chair only], Chateau, FLorence, Colonial Pt 3, Grove Pt 4, Kyoto Pt 2, London Interior, Paris Pt 1 2 3, Grove

Charlypancakes: Maple &S Construction Pt 3, Soak

Harrie: Brutalist, Coastal, Klean

Joyce : Forever Autumn [ Curtains only]

Peacemaker: Graciously Georgian, Paige Armchair, Hamptons Hideaway [Ceiling light only]

Pierisim: Coldbrew, Combles, David Apartment, Domaine Du Close, MCM, Oak House, Winter Garden, Woodland Ranch

Charlypancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises [ Chair only ]

*Ravasheen: Uplifting Elevator [MOD]

Simkoos: Everyday Clutter Add-on

Simplistic: Rustic Rug Trio

Sixam: Hotel Bedroom [ Desk only], Small spaces Laundry room

Syboulette: Fitness

Tuds: Cross

*Zulf: Let's get fit [MOD] -optional-

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[retiredteabag]

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next

synopsis: Toji takes up dog-sitting for you and learns to appreciate his new job, in more ways than one.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Time came and went with Toji’s frequent dog sitting. Despite the workhorse owner seemingly never being home, the dog appeared well cared for and happy.  The place became a second home for the man. On one particular 8:00 o’clock morning, he found a long note… and a hundred dollars.

“Mr. Fushiguro, we will be getting lots of rain this week, I can’t ask you to walk him like you usually would but if it’s not too much trouble, please just take him outside and let him go to the bathroom. I’ve got a raincoat in the closet by the garage, a towel for the dog, and umbrellas by the door, please utilize whatever. There are towels for you in the guest bath, I will do the laundry when I get home, please just toss them on the floor.” – y/n  

Toji had never seen a dog so thrilled to be out in the rain. A scoff shook Toji when he found the raincoat. There was no universe where it would've fit him. The dog bounded to the door and sat patiently for Toji to open the umbrella.

It had been painfully humid that day, the rain was torrential, and he was drenched, even with the umbrella. He normally wouldn’t use someone else's shower and he rarely ever did in his previous line of work.

Back then he learned that using his client's utilities gave them the strange impression that they were more than a couple bucks to him. He liked to avoid messes like that and preferred his own (much smaller) shower anyway.

Even so, when the dog and he made it back, the pristine floors and counters stuck out more than ever. He would have to be at the house for a while that day, he figured he should probably clean himself.

If it weren’t for the loving pooch, the place would look unlived in. It was strange to think that before Toji got there and after he left anyone occupied the space at all.

The shower had been better than he’d ever remembered having. He tossed the towels in the wash and waited around. Toji was making more and more, working back-to-back days and he had learned to expect the apology text,

“I’m so sorry, I won't be making it back tonight, can you stay till 10?”

Toji always responded by liking the message. Their text logs looked like a line of grey text with numerous “thumbs up” reactions.  

Eventually, the day came when he did not have a note on the counter. The first day where there was a sign of life in the house, a mess. The dog had been anxiously circling Toji when he arrived. Tissues on the counter, trash not taken out, fridge empty, and what really stuck out to him, no money.

Toji couldn’t care less about how the owner lived, but if he was promised pay, he expected pay. No matter how generous the owner had been in the past. He knew it had been an honest mistake when he texted for the first time in weeks.

“Hey. Dog looks good. Were you planning on going to the bank this morning?”

It took a while for him to get a response but when he finally did, they came in quick succession.

“Oh my gosh”

“Mr. Fushiguro, I am so sorry!!”

“I promise it wasn’t intentional, I’ll be back early tonight, don’t worry about feeding him dinner, I’ll Zelle you for today and tomorrow.”

He hadn’t been upset or anything. The owner had been more than lavish with their money, Toji has never been so flush with cash from so little labor. That thought was what caused him to respond,

“No worries.”  

Toji arrived the next morning and for the first time, was met with…. Nothing? Usually, the dog was quick with its futile tackle attempts. Not today I guess Toji thought.

Toji called for the dog and he came running; just not in the way he usually did. Toji noticed immediately, the whining, the huffing, the wiggling, and the ever-constant pushing at his thigh.

“What? What is it, boy?” Toji asks.

The dog let out a particularly loud cry and ran back to the master bedroom. Toji looked around the kitchen, the first room from the foyer he entered. No note on the counter. But what he did find was a half-full glass of water, a ramekin with a cocktail of pills, and an iPhone with a silent alarm on the lock screen. An alarm was set for 5:42. It was 8:17.

The frantic dog rushed back to find Toji at the kitchen counter with the phone in his hand. He whimpered, nudging Toji with his face. It didn’t take long for the dog to practically drag Toji by the pantleg to the master bedroom.

“What? What?” Toji was looking around the room to see what had the big guy so agitated. It would be a lie to say Toji hadn’t done some snooping around the house. He'd wanted to see how the lavish owner lived. It's fair to say that he had never seen the bedroom look so…disrupted. Toji came around the bed where a potentially human-sized lump lay under a pile that consisted of sheets, a blanket, and an exceptionally fluffy duvet.

                “Excuse me?” Toji knocked his knuckles on the dresser by the bed. Still not totally sure if there was life under all the pillows. “Excuse me.” He said, firmer. Toji raised his eyebrows when a long…noise… escaped painfully from the frump on the bed.

                “Hello? You paid me for today, you know?”

There was a shaky stretch he could see from under the fluff. Then, as though burned with a branding iron, the shape jolted up. Toji was struck by the view of the women before him. Screaming in shock.

                The dog began to whine again between Toji and the woman on the bed. You were making loud, unintelligible exclamations. The dog was licking at his paw.

                “H-hello???!” You were nothing like what Toji was expecting. But then again, he wasn’t sure what he had expected from the ghost that was the owner of this place.

                “Ms. y/n? You paid me to come today.” Toji had taken a step back, he was well aware that he was a frightening presence, especially for the seemingly young and unarmed woman sitting up in her bed.

                “Mr. Fushi-“ a cough “guro?!” your eyes stretched comically wide, and made to jump out of bed, but then you saw how close Toji was, and thought again, “I-I didn’t!” Your hands fly to your head, “Oh God….”

Toji stepped back a ways, he wasn’t sure what he should do or say. The women before him seemed… unwell, to say the least. Weak, for sure, cold too maybe.

                “But it’s….” You began.

                “It’s Friday, you paid me last night for yesterday and today, I can leave if you’d like, but I ain’t got the cash on me…”  

                “No, no, no!” Finally, you stumbled from your bed, seemingly no longer frightened by Toji’s looming form, you seemed flushed, and damp? Definitely unwell. “I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen, I swear I set an alarm…”

You spin around and almost slam directly into Toji's chest. Shrieking, you pulled back and stumbled on your own footing. In the same breath Toji grabs you by the shoulder and righted your center of gravity.

Hot. He thinks She was irregularly warm. He let go and stepped back.

There was once a time when a touch like that would mean nothing, but now, he feels unsure if it was the right move. This woman was nothing like his previous clients.

                “I’m so sorry! But… My phone…” Your eyes survey the desk by the bed. A thermometer sat idly by the lamp.

“I’ve got it here.” Toji waved the device before your eyes, “You left it on the counter back there.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen.

The meek women seemed to no longer fear Toji at all, snatching her phone quickly and moaning loudly. “Oh God!” You echoed.

You shuffle on your feet, unsure of which direction to turn, then finally decide to turn to Toji where he stands staring.

                “I- cannot. Apologize. Enough. Please, you stay here, I need to go, I am so late. I- Thank you, for taking care of my boy.” You were huffing. Stress welled in your form but you squeezed the sides of your temples and rushed to slip shoes on.

                “Excuse me.” Toji felt uncomfortable and out of place in this woman's presence but she was insane if she thought she could work in this condition. Not only due to her clear illness, but also, she was currently wearing a professional pair of flats, green and black oversized plaid pajama pants, and a thick black crewneck. “You… can’t work like this.” He made a face.

You look down at yourself. “Oh, I’m-I’m so embarrassed, and I’m sorry. I have extra clothes in the office, I can change there… I can’t believe this happened.” Your hoarse voice had scratched and faded significantly from the screaming you had done moments before. “Thank you, for waking me, and staying with the dog.”

                “Erm…No, I mean, you can’t work…like this” Toji’s hand motioned to rake over your appearance. Like Hello? You are not presentable. “You're sick.”

                “I’m-no! I’m on the recovery side. I’ll be okay.” You state, wobbling on your “recovering” feet.

                “I don’t think so.” Toji wasn’t trying to be pushy but it was laughable to think someone in your condition was anything but grossly ill. “I think you should call out.”

Your eyes jump at the thought. “I can’t, I’m sorry that this happened, I’ll be sure it won't again. I can't believe-ugh!”

Your exasperation was clear, and no, you were not recovering. You had come home last night beyond exhausted. You had left that morning knowing you were sick. You had left work early, (by 5:30) in hopes that sleep would help you body. But the exhaustion had overtaken you. You can recall taking medicine, placing some out for this morning, and then…. Flopping in bed.

Damn it. This was your fault. And after all the work you had done. The panic had settled into disappointment. And the large man that was supposedly your very attentive and efficient dog sitter was still in your bedroom. Staring at you. In your pajamas. Nice.

“Ya can't work like that. How about I walk the dog, you take the drugs you’ve got in that little cup and go back to bed.” He pauses and. Blood rushes to your face. He gives you a once over, “Maybe wash up.”

You were gonna kill yourself.

There were a million “no!” arguments that came to your mind but they were so jumbled in your fuzzy mind. Another reason for your self-induced frustration. The man was already walking out of your bedroom, your big dog in toe. Your boy!? The dog who hated everyone (especially men) but you?? He was leaving YOU for HIM? That was it.

You waddle back to your bed and flop face first into your pillow and wail. No tears come but the embarrassment and anger fill you so full you need it out of your system in some way.

Checking your (nearly dead) phone you find that it is nearly nine, you weren’t THAT late, this could work. But at the realization that you wouldn’t arrive until almost ten, and the sweat pricking at your neck, all the motivation to make it flooded from your bones. You work from home on the weekend anyway, if you went in today you would likely just humiliate yourself more.

You resigned yourself to the bathroom after taking some medicine, desperate to get yourself clean before the dog sitter returned.

Toji decided to take a slower pace on their morning walk. He had an odd feeling in his stomach. All he could that was that this dogs mom was not what he had expected.

It had become a game for Toji- to guess what the homeowner was like. A decrepit golfer with time for nobody but himself? An old, entitled maid, desperate to appear young? A middle-aged guy like himself, too busy trading stocks to feed his own dog?

Yet today proved that all of his ideas were wrong... you were younger than he had envisioned. You had big, full eyes and you had smiled so shyly while thanking him.

He hadn't meant to embarrass you but your face when he told you you were unpresentable just made him laugh. Your eyebrows knitting together, and your (already heated) facade seemed to rush with more blood. Your downcast gaze had lifted to show a pathetically self-deprecating smile. Toji laughed despite himself.

You had seemed small. But in the moment he had spoken to you, you had shrunk even more. No. Not what he was expecting at all.

And despite himself and his greed. He couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be needed here for a little while.

It seemed like you needed to stay home for a while.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

pt. 3