#IKEA Furniture transformation

[can-they-assemble-ikea-furniture]

Assume they have access to ikea furniture

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge!

read day 29 on ao3:

(prompt: doing a chore around the house)

summary:

“You convince me of the craziest things, Holmes."

“Oh, come on! A night at IKEA can hardly be more exciting than Afghanistan!”

“Less murders, I’d hope."

“There is no need to whisper, John. We are alone in this gigantic möbelaffär.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Furniture store. It is Swedish.”

“Why does it sound like you’re having an affair with furniture?”

“I do not know. Shall we check out the beds?”

T, 2.676 words, Developing Relationship. IKEA, Fluff, Love Confessions, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, First Time, just fluff, i love them your honor

tags under the cut 🥰✨

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind @booksoversleep @wilsons-limped-husband

[formulaforza]

furniture-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 750 a/n: thank u dani for snapping my writers block. art imitates life fr fr here

Are you busy? You texted him, tossed your phone onto the ground next to you and assessed the situation in front of you for the hundredth time. Pieces of wood everywhere, harware everywhere, a cordless drill your dad had given you when you moved out years ago–one he didn’t show you how to use. 

What had started as a simple Friday evening project, rearranging your apartment living room, had transformed into an all-consuming weekend of furniture and clutter shopping. The Ikea box–boxes–sit torn apart on the floor and the instruction pamphlet is disheveled amongst the mess somewhere. 

Never for you, he replies, you roll your eyes. 

You reach for your phone, quickly type out your response. Come over? You text, and immediately follow it up. Not for the reason you think.

He’s knocking on your door twenty-five minutes later, three knocks, pause, and then another. Just like always. You try to manuver your way out of the maze of wooden boards and dowels and hardware and the dreadful drill to get to the door. He’s on his phone when you open it, quickly shuts it off and shoves it in his pocket and smiles at you like an idiot. “Hi.”

“Help.” You say, straight-faced and serious because you’re in so over your head it’s not even funny. He laughs, you swing open the door nad mumble out a preemptive apology. 

He chokes your name out through a laugh as soon as he sees the mess. “What have you done?” 

“Can you help me?” You say over his shoulder, over his shaking head. Disbelief, amazement, fear, probably all of the above because you’ve truly created a monster.

“Cherie, what am I looking at, even?” He scratches the back of his head, his neck, just inside the collar of his t-shirt. 

“Entertainment center.”

He tries not to laugh. Fails miserably. “Are you sure?”

“I think.”

“Oh, mamma mia.” He shakes his head, looks at you and reflects your pout. “You’re so cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you going to help me, or not?” You are so far beyond help, mon amour, he sighed, told you to get something to drink and that he would figure out how to undo whatever you’d done and build the furniture the way it was originally intended to be built. “You don’t want my help?”

“I am scared of your help.” You would be offended if everything you’d managed to put together looked even a little bit like what the end goal was, but, he was probably right to be scared by what you could do. You were a little scared by how badly you’d managed to screw it up. It felt like maybe someone should take away your rights to adult if you couldn’t built a simple peice of furniture. “If I teach you, you won’t have to ask for my help next time.”

“This is truly an enlightening experience,” you say, pop another piece of fruit into your mouth. “Dinner and a show.” Who knew watching your guy-who-isn’t-your-guy play with high stakes Swedish legos could be so attractive. It’s just furniture, you’d try to remind yourself, and then he'd use your drill like his dad taught him how to use one instead of just giving him one as a gift. 

“Who gave this to you?” He asked about the drill the first time he picked it up. “I don’t think they liked you much.”

You laughed. He laughed at your laugh. “My dad,” you answered, and he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t confirm or deny his previous claim. You don’t know if he plays it safe because you’ve told him too much–or too little–information.

Despite a few of the screws angled just a bit awkwardly, the only real victim of the entertainment center debacle of 2023 is a single wooden dowel that snapped clean in half. “Do you have super glue?” He asked when the two of you finally stopped laughing about it. I have nail glue, you told him, and only time will tell if the cosmetic solution actually worked. 

“My hero!” You joked, stood up on your tip-toes to throw an arm around him, admired your–his–work now that the console had been set in it’s forever home. “I could not have done it without you.”

“You would’ve figured it out.” He says, smiles down at you like he isn’t a liar. “It just would have been…”

“A disaster?”

He chuckles. “Abstract.”

“Oh.” You laugh, kiss him because how can you not? “You’re sweet.”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana Drabbles: Explanation and Masterlist

I'm going to add examples below, but drabbles can range from several sentences to several paragraphs and cover everything from humor to angst to fluff! They're written more like train-of-thought fanfic, instead of the structured bullet points I use in HCs. What really sets them apart though is that drabbles focus on one or two characters at a time and are not limited to the M6!

Drabbles can be as oddly specific as you want, to as randomized as you want. Here's some examples of what you could request, and some links of past drabbles -

"I really like the idea of a cozy night in with Portia where she takes care of my hair, could you write a drabble for that?"

"Can I have drabbles of Selasi being just The Best to MC?"

"I have this really specific bittersweet moment in my head - [insert description here] - could you do a drabble of that with whichever M6 parent you think fits it best?"

"How about a drabble for [specific character]? Whatever you want to write about them!"

Julian and quill pens

Portia's hair

Asra and Muriel and campfire teamaking

Nadia and Favorite Foods

Scout's self care

Lucio's hair

Inanna and Muriel

Mercedes and Melchior and Lucio

Chandra missing Nadia

Malak and Julian

Pepi being a Cat

Faust and Asra and Faust's knife

Cuddling Birblian

MC transforms into a "monster"

Vesuvia Weekly: Baby Fever (M6 oneshot)

M6 building IKEA furniture

Lucio realizing the dogs are his familiars

Family-burdened MC and nothing-is-taboo Lucio

Asra's sweet tooth

Julian and his waterproof plague clothes

Nadia's poorly-worn clothes pet peeve

Portia's garden

Muriel's favorite colors

Vesuvia Weekly: Don't Wake MC!

Vesuvia Weekly: "Why are we hiding?"

Modern AU Pre-Prologue Setup

Work Lunches with Asra

Julian's Pirate Adventures

Prince!Lucio and Bodyguard!MC

Prince!Lucio and Bodyguard!MC, pt 2

M6 vs Mechanical Bull (oneshot)

Comforting Julian during a storm

Bodyguard!Muriel and Royalty!MC

Julian when MC gets tendonitis

Vesuvia Weekly: Learning (love) Languages

Vesuvia Weekly: Guilty Pleasures (poorly doodled)

Inanna protecting MC's stuffed animal

Malak upstaging Julian (on purpose)

Faust and Asra trying to learn MC's secrets

Chandra trying to share her puzzles with MC

Pepi sharing her secrets with MC

Mercedes and Melchior "helping" Lucio be a good boy

(Art prompt) Muriel's prosthetic proposal

Youngest Child Nadia

Honorary Grandma Portia

Big Brother Julian

Ageing Lucio angst

Resilient Asra angst

Asra's inherited fashion sense

Nadia the Countess Engineer

Julian as a castmate

Lucio's dental habits

Portia's domestic feminine rage

Muriel's bad posture

Julian and the canals

Asra and weekly dusting

Nadia and the South End Theatre

Muriel's pockets

Portia's to-do list

Lucio's bathtime

Post-upright route evening with Nadia, Asra, and Julian

Julian & Portia talk to Malak & Pepi

Knight!Muriel and Royalty!MC, pt 2

M6 all cook in one place

Asking Muriel to crush a watermelon between his thighs

Prince!Julian and bodyguard!MC

MC and Julian get arrested while Portia bails them out

When Muriel's kid is a walking heart attack

Mercedes and Melchior accidentally halfway merge

Julian getting used to normalcy

Asra sharing a bed with you

Nadia sharing her room for the first time

Muriel sharing his thoughts with you

Portia getting used to your attention

Lucio not understanding your love

Julian when you're stressed and quietly waiting

Asra when you've been wronged by someone

Nadia's fluctuating code of ethics

Muriel's scathing letter talents

Portia on AITA

Lucio realizing he can weaponizing his capacity to annoy

Vesuvia Weekly: A Date With Disaster

Vesuvia Weekly: To be loved is to be ...

Motorcycle Mishap

Julian with an MC who smells their hair to think

[seat-safety-switch]

Couple years ago I fell in with this weird art crowd. It wasn't entirely my fault, but rather my rip-roaring need to be loved and the fact that none of them had paid enough attention in math class to count how many more Zima I was sneaking from the gallery openings than I was formally allocated.

One of the big names was Teoric (not a typo, but we assumed it must originally have been one.) I fucking hated him and his holier-than-thou attitude. His thing was genocide. Not committing it, though I'm sure he would have been open to doing so, but documenting it in his art. Cruise control for shocking the common gallery-viewers. He wasn't even polite about it. Interpretive Dance Anne said that she had dibs on the Armenian Genocide, and Teoric swooped right in there with a mixed media collage moistened with his own tears.

Remember, I wanted to be loved. Pretty much everyone was done with his non-stop antics. So I volunteered to smooth things over. Teoric live-work-lived in a disused furniture factory that had been converted into artist lofts. They didn't believe in locks, and conveniently for me, I didn't believe in them either. I went over to Teoric's office, and sat down in a chair next to his working area. He immediately exploded with rage.

"You fucking bourgeois simpleton," he shrieked. "That is not a chair - that is a transformation of Ikea commodity furniture to honour the victims of Hrothgar the Terrible's mass execution in 673!"

At once, I saw an opportunity here. "You know, Teo" - he hated being called that - "a lot of new genocides happen every day. You could be the first artist to document them in history."

As I watched his plane depart from the pre-9/11 departures lounge (more ashtrays than now,) I had one thought on my mind. Well, two. I didn't know where Tajikistan actually was, and I hope whoever's credit card that was got some good karma for their contributions to local art.

When I got back, Interpretive Dance Anne had already moved into the now-vacant studio. She was overjoyed that I had managed to remove the thorn in her side, and offered to put a good word in for me with Obvious Dance Anne. I felt cheap. What had I done? My guilt grew until one evening, at the Ford dealership that a guerrilla art collective had seized and was now displaying portraits of the owners' family's last moments, I saw Teoric again. Just for an instant, but it was undeniably him. I rose from my chair, scattering the gaggle of local theatre journalists I had been holding court to, and pursued.

My flabby, booze-soaked legs could not catch him that evening, sliding on the rain-slicked dealership lot. The last I saw of Teoric was him climbing into a Chevy HHR and peeling out across the parking lot. Mixed-Media Ernie had seen me run out, and came to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, assuming that I was about to vomit for a different reason.

"Oh yeah," Ernie said, as I explained the entire situation to him, "he sold out and started working for General Motors. Designs all their cars now."

The SSR too? "Yeah." He had found his muse in war crimes yet again.

[fluctuating-fanby]

Housewarming (1.3k words) by Vince_Mondragon Fandom: Welcome to Night Vale Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Floor Sex, though this is barely smutty I'm sorry, no beta we die like nvcr interns, Art, Bad Puns, Innuendo, Coitus Interruptus Summary:

Imagine your OTP get their first apartment together, and they’re decorating it as they get into a small little argument about what goes where and they get into a playful little tussle, eventually caving into a romantic session of intimacy on the floor. (Bonus for OT3 or even another OTP, they knock on the door and enter with a big, surprise house warming gift as the romantics are going on.)

A new home, ham-fisted innuendos, and Night Valean IKEA furniture.

-----

New Kevcilos fic! Just a whole bunch of fluff and goofiness, based on this Tumblr prompt.

Cecil's design borrowed from @perfect-cecilos, who initially shared the prompt with the Discord server and proposed making it Kevcilos.

[octuscle]

Please help! I was using the Chronivac to become the skater bro of my dreams but my hand slipped while I was messing around on my board and changed my pre-set from skater bro to stoner jock, my head feels foggy, my body is sore and my face keeps getting harrier…

Bro, relax! Yeah, you're out of weed and smoking a regular cigarette is actually not cool. But I'm taking care of you. You will become the stoner jock of your dreams. The transformation of your body is going according to my taste. You are a bit unkempt, the greasy hair disappears under your cap. Your sweatpants could be washed again. You could eat healthier and do more sports. But hey, you only live once! Where your skateboard was a moment ago, your bong is now. Your new IKEA furniture is slowly disappearing and being replaced by found objects from the bulky waste. Where your study used to be, there is now a weed plantation. After all, what do you need a study for? For your job in the bong store? I don't think so!

Bro, I know I'm being cruel to you. But let me have some fun. I had an exhausting shift. A little schadenfreude should be allowed. We'll forget about your apartment and your job. But you'll get your skateboard back.

[hournites]

I saw Hournite and immediately rushed to send in an ask! 😁 "Is this a date?" -Rhuben

Homemakers

Beth wiped silky cobweb film on her patchwork jeans. Mindful to not let her upbringing with wealthy parents and a spotless home cloud her judgment, she stepped away from the giant 80s curtains, continuing to meander through the fixer-upper. The wooden floorboards were swollen with old water damage and spreading apart by the front foyer, creaking beneath her tennis shoes. A stubborn stale smell lingered in the air, even after Rick opened windows to stop her sneezing.  

“I know it needs work.” Rick glanced around at the stains and barebones furniture, seeing his home through her eyes for the first time. “A lot of work.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” She turned around, full with so much gratitude. To her knowledge, Rick had never let anyone visit his house. When he casually suggested they stop by because he forgot his hourglass in his room, she nearly kicked her feet with giddy. She was happy just to be on his property for the first time, she didn’t expect him to give her a private tour. “I think this place is wonderful.” 

“It’s a shithole,” he corrected, shrugging a shoulder. “There was a pipe leak just last week. You don’t have to lie.” 

It wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t about to deny that it needed serious TLC. The rugs could use a good beating and every room she saw was practically begging for a deep clean. The only mirror was dirty and cracked in the bathroom. The couch could at minimum use a cover, but honestly needed to be replaced…Swiffer could do a commercial here for their mops. No dishwasher and a clothesline for his flannel to dry. At the same time, in all its depressing neglected glory, many trinkets belonging to Rick’s parents were left behind by Matt Harris, writing them off as worthless in value. It was humbling and reassuring to see the reminders of the house this once was. It brought Rick’s past alive. 

In fact, she was certain she could transform this into a rustic, positive and hospitable space Rick wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of. With some flowers in window planters and a few fruit trees for Grundy, they could even revive the farm and make it beautiful again. 

“Nonsense.” Sitting down on a soft duvet in the room they ended up in, she slipped her hands behind herself to curb the itch she had to fetch her goggles and measure dimensions. She flashed him a grin instead. “It just needs a trip to Ikea.”

“…Ikea?” he repeated, like it was a foreign word. 

Beth gave him an excited nod. “Mmhm!” 

Rick crossed his arms with a strange look on his face, leaning against the doorpost as she looked around, noticing a mismatching vibe she couldn’t quite place. She sniffed after another tickling sneeze, nose no longer quite so clogged with dust mite. An earthy scent greeted her at last. A hint of sandalwood and trees.

 “It smells so good here.” She settled in, crossing one leg underneath the other and pulled out her phone for Ikea’s web browser while ideas were still fresh. “Best spot so far.” 

“This is my room,” he told her, amused. “And that’s my bed, so you’re smelling me.” 

She gaped at him, ignoring the flush warming her cheeks. “Your room?” 

But there wasn’t a single personal item here on display! No books, snack wrappers, or any pictures…There was the bed and a chair, and, yes, admittedly now she did see his phone charger plugged into the outlet in the corner, but…she at least expected the hourglass to be somewhere noticeable. 

“What?” he teased. “Didn’t think my bed would be made?”

She stood up, sensitive to what was growing between them and unsure how to proceed. “I didn’t say that!” she protested hotly. 

“I know, B. I’m kidding.” 

His tone went soft. Like he loved to ruffle her feathers for the opportunity to gently set her at ease. 

Opening his door to her also opened a part of  himself that Beth always craved after. As guarded as he first was that she knew everything about where he came from, he’d quickly adapted and affirmed her presence much like the baby steps it took for Rick to invite her to sit shotgun in the Mustang. And now it was her unofficial official seat. 

“But why is it always you now,” Yolanda used to whine when Rick picked them up for school. Beth would shrug innocently, like she hadn’t been aware their dynamic was charged from the start. 

She wasn’t sure how long he’d ever had the peace they fostered in the Mustang, knowing this was the very place he’d used the car for to escape. It wasn’t lost on her that their friendship filled a lot of voids. Connection, solidarity, and, well, partnership. Which, at first, worked in the traditional sense on the team, but had now sailed into the uncharted gray area beyond intense friendship. She couldn’t help longing for more. And, she knew, she was the one that usually tested the boundary as the extrovert of the two, but it secretly thrilled her when it was Rick’s doing, which he was more often. 

It had only occurred to her that she’d never let Rick into her bedroom all the times he’d stayed over. Why was that? Her parents never set out any ground rules. And there she was, curling up in his private space–She could only dream what was running through his mind. Was there such a thing as too comfortable? How much was too much?

“And—” she continued to justify, even though Rick never asked. “I likely have your scent memorized because I’m familiar with your car. Or something.”

“Sure.” Rick lifted an eyebrow at her, and kept going. “Or, you just really like my aftershave.” Bending down, he pulled out a storage container from under his bed with a padlock and that had all his stuff. 

Beth glanced out the window at the field of dry grass, hoping he’d open it too when the room only grew warmer as more unwarranted thoughts of Rick shaving leisurely swirled around her head. 

Meanwhile, Rick latched onto the golden chain of the hourglass and slipped it round his neck. She decided she’d rather be embarrassed about finding such random things Rick does attractive than stay sad about the state of his living habits, clearly developed from living with his uncle. He deserved a teenage room, not a hotel safe. Now that thought drove her to wrap her arms around his middle. 

“Thanks for bringing me here.” 

Rick returned her hug hesitantly, genuinely confused. “Is this just an excuse to smell me?” 

“No,” she said with a roll of her eyes, a teeny tiny fib–she’d already buried her face into his shirt. But this was not the time for that, so she sacrificed the sandalwood for propriety and regretfully pulled away. “I know it matters, that’s all. You could’ve told me to wait in the car but you didn’t. So, thank you.” 

He nodded and Beth stepped back, folding her arms.“So, Ikea after training?” 

She watched him nervously rub his jaw and added, “We can set a budget. And you get veto power over anything we get.” She crossed her heart but in their business, didn’t think it prudent to hope to die. 

“Okay, but I veto.” 

Her hand is still over her chest. “You veto.” 

“It’s my budget not yours.” 

“Okay, but can I buy a few things?” 

“Define a few.” 

She held out a hand. “Ten things?” She saw his face twist and quickly adjusted. “Five things! Five things you really want!”

“One thing. Maybe. I’ll pay you back later. And, I’d need your advice anyway so don’t give me that look. And this is my house, not yours.” 

She saluted as he shepherded her out of his room with a hand on the small of her back.  “Message clear and understood.” 

-.-

“Is this a date?” She peered into a display box with a dozen different door knobs in one of the Ikea showrooms. Rick gave her a long sideways glance as he pushed a cart twice the length of Courtney’s staff. 

“What?” She laughed in his pointed silence. “People go on Ikea dates all the time! They browse interior decor, ask probing questions to get to know each other, share Pinterest ideas to share their dream house aesthetics, and find pieces that fit both styles. There’s a restaurant to eat Swedish meatballs for dinner…Not to mention the teamwork required afterwards for assembly.”

“You think building furniture together with wordless instructions is romantic?” 

“It can be with the right person! And a pair of very useful AI goggles. Or a guy with very convenient strength.” She picked up an eight dollar lampshade. “This one?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Does it come in black? And I thought you were very against using JSA stuff for non-JSA things.”

“Exceptions can be made–Are you sure you want black? That’s a depressing color.” 

“I’m sure.” 

She sighed, resigning to the unforgivable fact Rick was a monochromatic minimalist by default. She noted it down to collect in the maketplace. “So, is this a date?”  

The long cart came to a stop. Rick rested his elbow against the metal grate handle. “Believe it or not I do have standards. I’m not having a first date be a trip to Ikea because my house is so ugly it rendered you to tears.” 

She laughed again in disbelief, having so much fun. “I did not cry!” 

“You hugged me!” 

“Because you smelled really good, and I was in your room, which also smelled really good, and I was happy,” she explained, gesturing wildly. 

“You’re going to bump into that dresser,” Rick warned her, avoiding a backwards collision with the KOPPANG by tugging her close just in the nick of time. 

Greeted by sandalwood yet again, she whispered, “So a first date in your books would not include Ikea at all?”

“Not a first date. Not any date.”

“Noted.” She peered at him quickly, then glanced away to watch other families and couples shop, clasping her wrists behind her back as they walked along the long natural way. Rick strayed away to pick up a few things.

It was when she got lost going through the Turkish rug samples hanging from the ceiling that an arm wrapped around her and she got a kiss on her cheek felt all the way down to her toes. 

[pookasluagh]

“You sound very enthusiastic,” Lee said. Crowley just snorted. “What kind of car is that? Looks fancy.”

“Some old-as-fuck vintage Bentley that makes no logical sense to own,” Zee said.

“Fuck off,” Crowley said. “It’s hardly vintage—2005 model, and I bought it secondhand.”

Zee exchanged a mischievous look with Lee. “This is the man who shops at IKEA for furniture.”

“Priorities! I spend more time in my car than I do in my flat!”

“Does his IKEA-habit matter if he’s living with you anyway?” Lee asked, earning a cackle from Crowley.

Zee waggled a finger at his mobile. “Now, now, sis—you’re meant to be on my side here.” Before she could respond, he raised an eyebrow and said, “And I want you to tell me what you’re planning, oh devious one. With this whole hotel-and-overnight-stay deal. Because I know you’re planning something.”

“What are you talking about?” Her feigned innocence did nothing to convince him. “Is it so wrong of me to want to spend more time with my brother and his new partner? His first partner after so many years? One who might be a brother-in-law before I next see him, at the rate you two are going?”

Crowley snorted again. Zee rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“You two are taking ‘U-Haul lesbian’ to a new level.”

***** Chapter 22 is live – time to meet the new neighbor and head out to meet Zee’s sister! (ie lots of domestic fluff and ineffable bickering)

Fic description: Zee (Aziraphale) Marsh is a widowed hermit who secretly writes bestselling romance novels under the pseudonym Bella Swansea. His life is rigorously controlled until his new downstairs neighbor arrives. Anthony Crowley causes something to come alive in Zee that he hasn't seen in over twenty years, but Crowley brings with him some of his own very dark secrets. // Human AU, E rating.

[papercranium]

"His hand on the small of her back, staying there instead of brushing past, and hers buried in his hair, enveloped in the familiar smell of his skin, the feeling of home. Two toothbrushes in the bathroom. Two pairs of shoes by the door.

They share pretty much everything else already, Sydney thinks. They could have this, too."

!!ITS FINALLY FINISHED!! if you love sydcarmy and ikea furniture and domestic life and sexual tension then this one is for you x

[can-they-assemble-ikea-furniture]

Assume they have access to ikea furniture

[usernamemybeloathed]

I wrote a little divorce fic for LeoVil week. A massive challenge for me, as these two pull me way out of my comfort zone, but when I saw the prompt I just had to.

Things hadn't been easy lately between Leona and Vil, but when were they? Recently, it felt to Leona as though things had become harder still. It all came to a head as Vil asked Leona to build some flat-pack furniture, causing the pair of them to face some home truths about their relationship.

Written for LeoVil Week 2024 for the prompt: building an Ikea cabinet.

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

Things Hriob is No Longer Allowed to Do, Revised Edition - Part Quarte

#121 I am a Master of Conceptual and Elemental Magics, especially the Natural elements such as Wind, Lightning, Earth, Wood, and Water. However, no matter how ‘natural’ their existence may be, I cannot cast ‘Bear’ and it is not an element, and no amount of arguing, evidence, or demonstrations will change this.

#122 When courting certain individuals I will remember the following; “Using Protection” means the proper use of contraceptives or barriers during coitus, NOT using wards or other magical means of surviving close proximity to individuals whose mere existence provides a serious hazard to my health.

#123 Just because it is one of the few things that CAN still affect me given my supernatural constitution, and just because she is my friend, does not mean I am allowed to occasionally use Shylow-Venom as anti-anxiety medication a recreational drug for ANY reason on my own person or anyone else’s.

#124 When engaging in Small Talk with Lord Alexander, I am to respect the presence and personal safety of his Steward, Sir Cromwell, by politely avoiding use of the following terms and turns-of-phrase: ‘Splitting Hares’, ‘Hot Crossed Buns’, ‘Hare-Rasing’, ‘Hare Removal’, ‘Careful Hop-Timism’, ‘Bad Hare Day’, ‘Hoppily Ever After’, ‘I’m all Ears’, ‘Hare Conditioning’, and any other hilarious bad puns revolving around Lagomorphs in general. Upon further review, Bonnie Kalsang is to be given the extended benefits of this ruling.

#125 I shall remember that ‘Tuning’ is for Musical Instruments, ‘Attenuation’ is for Spiritual and Mystical aspects and machinations, and ‘Vibe Checks’ are for violently percussive maintenance on other people. Just because they SOUND like they’re the same thing doesn’t mean they ARE the same thing.

#126 If I am ever to host a ‘Movie Night’ with my friends/associates/subordinates/rivals/sworn enemies, I will avoid playing the following films for various reasons: Kill Bill, Repo: The Genetic Opera, Shrek 3, Saving Private Ryan, and any historical fiction "i may have been present for when it happened".

#127 I am forever forbidden from doing anything if I am preceding the action(s) in question with any variation of the phrase ‘Hey ___, Watch This!’

#128 I am forever forbidden from officiating Weddings Funerals Birthday Celebrations Coming-Of-Age-Ceremonies Duels Archery Contests Eating Contests Battle Royales Anything.

#129 I am a self-reincarnating Avatar of Life. I, at best, have an understanding with, and at worst, trying relationships with Entities that deeply connect to or convey Death as a Concept. This means that I need to maintain my moral superiority as best I can, which in turn means I should avoid conflict with them… and therefore not try to prank or annoy them.

#130 I am not the Patron Saint of Oktoberfest, no matter how much I wish to be.

#131 I am not allowed to visit Australia, nor am I to confuse it for Austria, be it to mess with other people or try and get around this ruling.

#132 I am forever barred from entering an IKEA store, and am forbidden from chanting backwards in Swedish in any language to assemble disassemble reconfigure rearrange manipulate IKEA-brand any furniture in any way.

#133 I am forever barred from teaching any variety of ‘Shop Class’.

#134 I am forever barred from leading field trips guided tours any sort of group of people for any reason through the following locations: Zoos, Museums, Government Buildings, Anarchist Buildings, Aquariums, Shopping Malls, Alternate Timelines, Alien Planets, Pocket Dimensions, Dimensional Nexus Points, Nuclear Reactors, Industrial Plants, and anything owned by a ‘rival’, ‘nemesis’, ‘adversary’, or any other hostile group or individual.

#135 I am not allowed to appropriate terminology research papers documents artifacts entities employees architecture ANYTHING from the SCP Foundation without due credit at all.

#136 Just because I am now able to transform into certain animals at will, does not mean I get to abuse the ability. This extends to bans against the following: eating my own paperwork and blaming ‘the dog’ on it, attempting to use ‘puppy-dog-eyes’ as a form of negotiation, massively decreasing the local wildlife population single-handedly, and leaving dog hair/fur in unpleasant locations as a petty form of revenge.

#137 I am forevermore banned from playing around with wax, especially heated. This is for my own safety and well-being more than any other reason.

#138 I am not allowed to start my own cult, religion, club, non-profit-organization, or any other form of organized group for any reason, least of all because I need an excuse to change any sort of government-issued id photo.

#139 I am an accomplished Arbormancer, capable of taking living trees of all kinds and fashioning them harmlessly into furnishings or tools, especially magical staves. I am Not, however, allowed to threaten sentient tree-based creatures such as demons, ents, and the like with transformation into such items, nor demonstrate my ability to do so.

#140 Just because some previously-incorporeal people enjoyed my gift of customized living human bodies for them to possess and inhabit, does not mean that Everyone will appreciate such a gift to the same degree. I am not to begin creating such vessels for those I know unless they specifically ask me to, no matter how convenient or helpful I think I am being.

#141 I am forevermore barred from following the ‘advice’ of the maxim ‘Tis better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission’, given that I have by now empirically proven it wrong.

#142 Just because I am a powerful and talented Oathkeeper for pacts and magical deals of all kinds, does not mean I can try and negotiate with children, especially those I am supposed to be babysitting.

#143 No matter how powerful and talented I am with Wood-based, Wind-based, and Ink-based magic, I am not allowed to make magically empowered paper planes and throw them into windstorms of any kind or origin. Not even if the kids ask nicely.

#144 I understand that, given my pact with the Worldspirit Gaia, I am often pulled to act as an emergency agent of their will to stop catastrophic incidents. I understand that, more often than not, those times when a single person is behind the danger, it is someone of necromantic alignment, skills, powers, or so on. Despite this, I am not to complain to them as I try to stop and/or slay them that they remind me of my ex-fiance, no matter how close, depressing, or infuriating the resemblance may be.

#145 I am forever banned from turning any portion of the Halls of the Mountain King into a Ball Pit of any size or depth.

#146 In regards to entry #53, given that I now do offer deals and pacts fairly regularly all things considered, I will remember to try and at least fall mostly in line with the Better Business Bureau’s ethical standards with said dealings.

#147 Given that prior rulings (#42 in particular) have failed, and I am happily sadly considered, among other things, The Wonderful Wizard of Gauze, I shall instead remind myself that flinging bandage wraps at people is not an effective attack. And that, strong as they may be, they cannot support my weight even in bulk - therefore I am forbidden from trying to swing off or around tall buildings with them as my ‘webs’. I am not ‘Spider-man’, and never will be - no matter what I attempt in order to change that.

#148 As an addition to the above ruling, I am to remember that, even if being able to wrap-and-pull items in the heat of battle is a neat and useful utility to have over my adversaries, using the same skill with my ‘bandage shooting’ to grab things around the Halls in a casual setting is frowned upon, even especially if people offer to be ‘test subjects’, ‘training dummies’, or any other kind of volunteer to be ‘shot’ thusly.

#149 Given item #72, I am to extend the same ‘general line of thought’ towards attempting to ‘forcibly evolve things with magic’, or any other medium to attempt the same end result. Spoiler alert: they always turn into crabs. Every. Single. Time. No more crabs.

#150 Just in case, I am forever banned from setting foot within 5 miles of Las Vegas, Nevada. No, not even if the magical forces behind it try to invite me.

[possibility-left]

Good Omens fic recs #33

the bucket list by darcylindbergh - A/C, 44k words.  After Armageddidn't, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to make a list of human things they've never tried, and do them to see if they're worth it, like visiting tourist traps and putting together IKEA furniture.  It's marked WIP but I do feel like it stops at a good place.  There are sooooooooo manyyyyy Feelings in this one and it does an astonishing job of miscommunication that is not really a fault of either party and doesn't feel silly.  The beginning of it is very funny, then you get some angst, and then something soft.

easy like sunday mornings by darcylindbergh - A/C, 25k words.  This is a series of waking up ficlets and they are so soft and sweet and domestic and lovely.  They're all worth reading but I especially enjoyed Chapter 10, 15, 16, 19, and 20.

My Favorite Ghost by  cassieoh_draws (cassieoh), DiminishingReturns - A/C, 35k words.  This is a slow-moving, sad and sweet story in which far after the events of the show, an apocalypse did happen, separating Aziraphale and Crowley, and Aziraphale returns alone to an Earth that's totally changed.  Mind the tags, but it's so innovative and lovely -- if you're on the fence I'd definitely suggest giving it a chance.  The worldbuilding and the vibe reminds me a lot of Monk and Robot, gentle and optimistic, growing something new.  There are some gorgeous illustrations too!

This could either break my heart or bring it back to life by Ren_Saxon - A/C, 10k words.  Three years after the end of S2, a former archangel with amnesia shows up at the bookshop -- Aziraphale.  Crowley finds this difficult to deal with emotionally.  There are a lot of fun scenes in this interspersed with a very reasonable angst, and I love the side characters, especially Muriel.  The ending is great!

have your cake (and kiss it, too) by Imagined - A/C, 7k words.  An incredibly sweet little get-together fic set post S1, in which Crowley tries giving Aziraphale a kiss and Aziraphale starts talking about cheese but eventually they figure things out.  Lovely and domestic.

[blissmissabi]

The Rise of Augmented Reality in Everyday Life

Augmented Reality (AR) is a transformative technology that superimposes digital information onto the real world, enhancing our perception of reality. Unlike Virtual Reality (VR), which creates an entirely immersive virtual environment, AR overlays digital elements—such as images, sounds, or text—onto our physical surroundings using devices like smartphones, tablets, or AR glasses.

Present-day Uses of AR Augmented reality (AR) is altering how we interact with technology and the world around us by making substantial breakthroughs across multiple fields.

Retail: AR is being used by retailers to improve the in-store experience. Customers may see how makeup, accessories, and clothing will appear on them without having to visit a store by using virtual try-on apps. One example is the AR app from IKEA, which allows users to see how furniture would fit and appear in their houses.

Healthcare: AR is being used in healthcare to help with medical training and complicated procedures. During procedures, surgeons can access real-time data and 3D organ renderings with AR glasses, which will increase accuracy and improve results.

Education: By increasing interaction and engagement, augmented reality is revolutionizing the way people learn. By allowing students to investigate 3D replicas of historical sites, the solar system, or anatomical structures, they may make abstract ideas come to life.

Entertainment: AR has been warmly welcomed by the entertainment sector. Augmented reality (AR) is giving consumers new experiences in everything from immersive movie advertising to apps like Pokémon Go that mix virtual characters with actual locales.

Improving Social Media and Mobile App User Experiences AR features are being added to mobile apps and social media platforms more often to draw consumers in. AR filters are a feature of Instagram and Snapchat that enhance images and videos with fun, animated effects, encouraging user creativity and interaction. With the use of augmented reality (AR) apps like Google Lens, users can quickly get information about items, landmarks, and other subjects by pointing the camera of their phone at objects.

Effects on Marketing and Advertising Plans Through the creation of immersive, interactive campaigns that grab consumers' attention, augmented reality is transforming marketing and advertising. Through gamified marketing, interactive advertisements, and virtual product demos, brands are utilizing augmented reality to increase engagement and conversion. For instance, Pepsi's augmented reality bus stop campaign left a lasting impression by delighting onlookers with lifelike digital animations.

Prospects & Development Trends for AR in the Future The development of augmented reality (AR) is expected to continue due to ongoing technological developments. AR experiences will be improved, becoming more smooth and accessible with advancements in AR glasses, computing power, and AI integration. We may anticipate that augmented reality (AR) will revolutionize a number of businesses and how we communicate with one another.

Conclution The emergence of augmented reality is evidence of the infinite applications of technology. AR is changing our daily experiences in a variety of ways, from improving healthcare and retail to transforming education and entertainment. As augmented reality develops, it promises to usher in a day where the virtual and real worlds coexist peacefully, presenting countless chances for creativity and interaction.

[grennefoam]

Day 1 of @benthan-week-forever: Practicing together (sparring, interrogating, etc.) | The ultimate relationship test: shopping at IKEA

He chances a peek at his partner, and slowly casts his eyes then to the half-empty box of cinnamon buns. Benji buys this and another 6-piece of maple Danish, meanwhile between the two Ethan is the one with a sweet tooth. Not once has Benji offered to share since they arrived. Meaning: Benji isn’t just angry. He’s livid. “Benji,” he begs. “Please.”

Happy Benthan week yall!