#Mirror Cabinet Cabinets on sale

[furniturebyabd-blog]

A glitzy two-door curio display cabinet featuring honeycomb fretwork over glass panes, adjustable glass shelves, a lighted interior, and a handpainted metallic finish with a floral and vine motif.

https://furniturebyabd.com/cavio-casa

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who doesn't love a perfectly preserved time capsule? This 1968 beauty in Rockford, IL is like stepping back in time. 4bds, 4ba, $450K.

The small entrance has tiled flooring to protect the carpet that runs all through the house.

Why is it always green? This was a dramatic home when it was new- stone fireplace, sunken living room, and wrought iron railings were the height of fashion.

The living area is huge. Note the large stone bench matching the fireplace and the cornice boards that discreetly hide the unsightly curtain rods.

The fireplace stone continues and has a huge mirror. In the corner is shelving and 2 steps up to the dining room.

The dining room has dated curtains that the buyer will inherit. I love the kitty-corner table. That was a common placement in mid-century style.

Next comes the kitchen. Actually, they must've updated it b/c I don't think that 2-tone cabinets were a thing yet. But, the ditzy, small, busy print of the wallpaper with matching shades was definitely the style. Note the original avocado dishwasher and dust shelving above the upper cabinetry, that was later replaced by soffits.

Wait a minute, I'm seeing props here- there's a new dishwasher and new ovens, but they kept the old avocado ones. I wonder if they work or, if it's just nostalgia. There are also 2 cooktops. Wow, they really preserved everything.

Look at the green glass.

Large laundry room off the kitchen.

Oh, look, an avocado washer/dryer set. This is amazing. And, look at the old sink. I hope someone who loves it, buys it, b/c it was so lovingly cared for.

Nice large everyday dining area has a pony wall separating the family room. So much green everywhere. I wonder if this set came that way or if they painted it.

Another stone fireplace flanked by shelving. Knotty pine walls, and folding shutter doors- all fashions of the past. I can't believe that they have the Colonial furniture that was so popular at the time. Even though it was all the rage, you don't see it around anymore. According to the listing, there is going to be an estate sale, so this furniture will be available.

The primary bedroom is pretty big. Geez, there's carpeting everywhere and some of it is looking gnarly.

It has an en-suite, which is unusual. Look at that fancy cabinet. Green laminate counter, too.

This bedroom is also pretty big. Look at the consummate girl's white bedroom furniture of the mid-century.

The den has a big old map probably with countries that don' t even exist anymore.

More bedrooms on the 2nd fl.

Oh, look at that! A hope chest! They were popular for a teenage girl to receive as a gift. Then, she would put in blankets, etc., in the hopes of one day getting married and using them. I can't get over the historic furniture in this place.

And, then they've got a big family room up here. Wow, this house has so much furniture and tchotchkes.

Winter? No problem. Just set the lawn furniture up in the basement.

There's also a finished part of the basement. This is a craft room, and there is also a canning room.

Look at the antique freezer on the right. This place is a museum.

This part of the basement isn't finished even though it has a brick fireplace. No matter, they still used it as a family room, anyway.

According to the listing, this is a 2 car garage, called a "cottage garage," b/c I guess it looks like a residence.

This cool log cabin on the property is used as a playhouse, according to the listing.

Yeah, but look at it, it's really a residence.

There's a lot of land, 3.50 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6151-Newburg-Rd-Rockford-IL-61108/5537324_zpid/

[traveler-at-heart]

Shopping

Summary: Natasha hates shopping, but an incident might change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Who knew saving the world was so much work.

Specifically, paperwork. 

Thor, unfamiliar with Earth’s customs and the bureaucracy of any organization, always had trouble filing his reports. You volunteered to spare him of endless hours sitting in front of a computer and to save Steve the frustration of trying to figure what the god meant when he wrote things like “the screams of our victims can be heard from Hell”

Only, you had been at it for almost three hours now. You stretch, feeling your back muscles strained.

Time for a snack break. 

Which you were doing, eating cereal and browsing through some emails. There’s a sale at your favorite store. Maybe, if you find the right outfit, you’ll agree to that blind date Tony’s been nagging you about. 

The day seems to be getting better, until Sam rushes past you, mumbling.

“Run, hide, anything”

“What?” you say, mouth full of cereal. He’s already gone. Five seconds later, Natasha storms in. “Oh, hey, Nat”

She glares and you gulp down the rest of your food. Against your better judgment, you smile again and ask her if she wants to go shopping. You can’t stop talking, she makes you that nervous. 

“I hate shopping”

You already know it and she tells you for good measure, before rolling her eyes and leaving the kitchen.

Right.

“Bucky, she’s alive,” Sam whispers as you walk back to your room. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She was pissed. Had an argument with Tony” Bucky barely opens his door.

“They always do” 

“Romanoff looked ready to kill him”

“She always does. And why are you hiding behind the door?” you look at Bucky.

“He ate all of Romanoff’s angry cookies” Sam replies.

“Terrible timing”

“Yeah” Bucky sighs, peaking around to see if Natasha is coming to kick his ass. Frankly, you wouldn’t stop her.

“Well, if you’re done gossiping, I have a shower to take”

“Where you going?”

“Shopping” you immediately shut down Sam’s curious tone. These boys are so nosy.

“Can I come?”

“Absolutely not. You always flirt with the girls and I can never get them to help me out”

“Oh, come on”

“Knock it off or I’m telling Nat you ate those cookies”

“No!” he sprints down to his room, while Bucky shuts the door so fast, you swear the wood cracks.

Ugh, it’s like living with teenagers. Thankfully, you have a plan. As you suspect, Natasha is going around the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about “killing Barnes”

“Hey” you don’t expect her to respond or turn around, so you just place the package on the counter. “I know those man babies eat everything on sight, so I always have some saved in my room. Your favorites” 

Natasha stops her movements, but still won’t turn around. 

“Thanks” she finally says as you walk back to your room.

You wish it was enough to make her feel better. You also wish she trusted you enough to vent about what it is she’s so upset about. 

But with Natasha, there’s always been a wall. You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, because you find her so attractive, endearing and even cute. 

If you get close, then you’re sure it’s going to evolve from slight crush to full time pining.

That can’t happen.

These thoughts take up most of your shower time and as you get ready to leave, you only turn around once to check your hair.

There’s a surprise waiting for you at the garage. Someone sitting on the driver’s seat of your car.

Natasha looks up and smirks.

“I don’t let anyone else drive”

“Mind you, I’m more worried about how you broke into my car without the alarm blaring” you tsk as she takes the keys from your hand.

She shrugs her shoulders and to your surprise, guesses which mall you’re heading to.

“I notice things too”

“You’re talking about those cookies?”

“I guess”

“Well, you’re always welcome to get them from my room. Secret cabinet behind the mirror”

“Nice”

You chuckle and she actually looks like her mood is improving.

And you… you are approaching the pining stage at an alarming rate.

--

“So, what are you looking for?” she asks when you finally get to your favorite clothing store. Natasha looks completely out of place between the lighting and the bland pop music playing in the background.

When she turns around, she finds you putting some lingerie sets over your clothed body, evaluating the shape and color.

She’s thankful you’re too focused on your own reflection to catch her blushing madly. Now is not the best time to picture you wearing one of those sets.

“Oh, maybe something to go on a date” you reply, choosing the black lingerie.

That answer is enough to put her in a bad mood again. 

After a few minutes looking around, you sense that she’s starting to get impatient. Natasha shrugs her shoulders at every dress you show her. You might as well be holding a hot dog suit to get her approval.

“Alright, I’m going to the dressing room. Hold this” you give her your purse, to guarantee she won’t flee the minute you close the door.

“Don’t be long” she mumbles when you’ve barely taken your top off. Without thinking much about it, you peak through the door and smile mischievously.

“Relax. If you’re a good girl I’ll get you something nice”

The redhead blushes furiously as you close the door again. You think it’s pointless to show her the dress, thinking she’ll just shrug and make a non committal hum. 

You’re on dress number three and think it’s the best one yet. 

“Shit” your smile is quickly replaced by a frown when you realize the zipper on the back is stuck. “Nat” you call frantically for her.

“What?”

“I’m stuck”

“What…?”

“Come here” you jump out of the dressing room and pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. “The zipper. Can you pull it down?”

“Y-yes”

“Ok, go” you move your wavy hair out of the way, expecting it to be over with one swift motion.

But Natasha’s touch is surprisingly soft and delicate. You feel her breath close to your neck. Fuck.

“Fuck” Natasha says and you snap back.

“What is it?”

“It’s really stuck” she sits on the little chair at the corner of the room and pulls you along. As she keeps trying to undo the zipper, your body gives in, sitting almost on her lap, your back to her front.

“Almost… there” she grunts, pulling so hard that you end up actually sitting on her lap, squealing at the force of her movements. “Sorry, sorry, I got you”

“I thought I was gonna die” you sigh, not moving away from arms that are circling your waist.

“Trained spy is scared of a little fabric?”

“Jerk” you stand up, but the dress is halfway down, limiting your movements. It falls completely to the ground, you stumble and turn, landing once again on Natasha’s lap, this time face to face.

Or rather… Breasts to face. She has her entire face on your lingerie clad breasts.

“Jesus, Nat, I’m sooo sorry…” your apology dies down when you feel strong arms pulling you closer. You look down and find emerald eyes, pupils dilated with lust and lips parted, waiting for permission to move forward.

There’s not much else to think about, so you place your hands on either side of her face and kiss her, desperate and fast. Natasha moans against your mouth, moving down to your neck and sucking until she leaves a mark. Her expert fingers are trying to unclasp your bra when...

“Everything ok in there?” a store clerk asks. You break apart, feeling frustrated and very much turned on.

“Yeah, I’m almost done here!” you shout, a little too out of breath.

“I think your friend left. She really hates shopping, huh?”

“Oh, I think I’ve managed to change her mind” you wink at Natasha before putting your clothes back on.

--

“Stop” Natasha says as you head back to the Compound, one hand on the wheel and the other hovering above your leg.

“I’m not…!”

“You’re staring”

“You’re a really good kisser”

The redhead blushes and you think you’re in love.

No turning back now.

“So… when’s your date?”

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“But I thought...”

“Tony was insisting on setting me up. That was before I knew my not-so-secret crush wanted to have her way with me in a dressing room” 

For the first time ever, Natasha is speechless and you laugh.

“So how about tomorrow?” she finally asks as she parks your car.

“That works for me” you walk side by side and then smile. “See? Aren’t you glad you went shopping with me today? You got to pick the clothes you’ll rip off of me” 

Natasha stops walking, and she’s actually considering just taking you up to her room right now.

“Tomorrow” you promise, smiling as you peck her lips.

--

“Hey”

“Yes, Sam?” you still have a silly smile, walking back to your room.

“I just saw Natasha and she smiled at me. Do you think she’s ok?”

“Yes, Sam” you roll your eyes, but he keeps staring. “What?”

“What’s that thing on your neck?”

Fuck. You slap your hand over the hickey and rush to your room.

“None of your business”

“As long as you keep her happy!”

“Shut up, Wilson”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

If you look at the trademark application for American Riviera Orchard, you’ll see that she’s trademarking it through a newly registered in Delaware company called Mama Knows Best, LLC.

Infact when you dig into the domain names etc, it seems this was thrown together last minute aka 2months ago after KC3/ PssoW C’s illnesses were announced. They are using PR to pretend they were working on it for an entire year, but even Scobie said they had nothing or whatever they had was all over the shop and he had no idea what it would be.

His comments don’t speak to a focused vision that is researched into whatever this is.

And what’s glaring about this launch is the lack of anything to sell. Not videos or actual products which speaks to the theory that this wax thrown together very quickly.

Russell Myers from the Mirror says if you sign up to the website, you get a respinse telling you that you’ll be notified of products when they are created/ available……if this was a year in the making and with proper marketing/ PR people, they’d have products ready to go. What it is right now is a landing/ holding page ( comments turned off on IG) until it produces products. 

It’s also interesting that the video is showcasing cooking which Markle tried to manifest for years while dating Corey. She auditioned and or popped up on varioys cooking shows/ fashion segments hoping to be hired. Acvording to people magazine, this launch of a lifestyle brand will have a companion show on Netflix. If Network tv won’t hire her for dream job then she’ll use her distribution deal to make it happen aka pay herself to make it happen!!!

However, one thing she revealed which tells me she has no clue about aspirational lifestyles/ branding. Her home kitchen hasn’t been updated from the dated 2000s/ early 2010s decor. It’s tye same kitchen from the sales brochure. 

Infact, glimpses of their home show a distinct lack of updating from the sales brochure. The onpy room thry updated is the one with the dining table as desk and their two side by side chairs. They removed all furniture and painted it white and addedva jute rug and that california bear poster over the fireplace. 

The current trend in kitchens for the wealthy is marble counter-tops and sleek designs meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s. 

The women she is cosplaying eg GOOP, Martha and Ina Garten have upgraded to the current trend in kitchens. GOOP showed off her new kitchedn in AD. Heck, JLO is showing off her sleek kitchen. 

*****************

That they haven’t updated their house to their taste is what I laugh about the most. Are they really that cash-poor? Do they really have that much debt that they can’t afford to redo anything? Surely Markus and Soho House can cough up a few million to keep her happy, and when the Sussexes default on the loans, they can make Soho Olive Garden, a Californian spinoff of Soho Farmhouse. Win-win, if you ask me.

meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s. ➡️ Remember, Meghan’s whole aesthetic is 90s. Of course she wants the Italian Country kitchen.

And thanks, anon. You’ve just reminded me of a house I looked at when I was moving back in 2022. The homeowners were so into that Italian Country Kitchen theme that they PAINTED the entire kitchen like it was a rustic Italian restaurant. You know you go into a family-owned Italian mom-and-pop place (not a chain like Olive Garden or Maggianos, but something like your neighborhood Italian pizza place) and it’s got that orangey-beige sponge paint that’s supposed to mimic sandstone and there’s a huge wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling mural of Italy and dusty fake vines hanging from decorative columns? Yeah, that was how this kitchen was painted. Even the cabinets. And that was not even the weirdest house I looked at by a mile.)

[world-of-aus]

More than Business

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Authors Note: I was not expecting the first part to get as much love as it has but  I can’t thank you all for the excitement you showed on that first piece. Hoping you all enjoy this second part as much as the first, there will be a third and hopefully final piece to this installment. As always happy reading buns!

Warnings: Pinch of angst, fluff

You’re stifling back another yawn as you go to open the wooden case that holds your pastries. “You alright there sugar, you look about ready to drop and it’s only 8 a.m.” You shake your head, pulling on a smile as you will the sleep from your eyes, “just a long morning,” you answer as you reach for the baked treat with the tongs you had in hand, “wanted to display the newest pastries out front this morning – spent most of the morning moving the other pastries around because of it.”

The elder lady is laughing softly from behind you, soft hand meeting your back as she rubs it comfortingly, “well it looks lovely, and it’ll have business booming for you with the way you chose to display this newest release.” A genuine smile pulls at your lips as you place the tongs back in their place, shutting the wooden cabinet as you pass her the bag of chosen pastries. “I hope so, but if sales don’t go as planned, I’ll be sending you and Willie some as I close shop, hope you don’t mind.”

She’s mirroring your grin as you she moves the two of you to the next display, “as if Willie could ever turn down any of your pastries, you know it’s a battle to tell that man no to any baked goods from here even though he’s well aware I stop by daily.” You're laughing softly as you repeat the action of grabbing the tongs, opening the case and pulling the amount of baked goods she requests. “Well, I’m hoping he’s going to be thrilled with any extras I send your way.”

She takes the bag from your hands as you walk the two of you up to the register, “he’s gonna have a field day,” she laughs as you weigh her bag reading her the total. “You should be charging more,” she says as she dips into her coin purse, “lord knows these treats are worth more than you charge.”

Warmth floods you, as you take her change, “oh I don’t know,” you murmur, as the register opens change sliding into its place, “I sometimes I feel I overcharge.” Meredith waves a hand at you dismissing the statement, “nonsense, with the fees from the 107 and how slow business can be some days, you deserve to price according to your work and your work is worth it sweetheart.”

You pass her her bag with a warm smile on your lips, “I’ll consider it, but with the money I bring from the other shop I don’t see it in my future anytime soon.”

Meredith is laughing her hand falling over yours, “well at least consider a tip jar, it’ll help you with those ridiculous 107 fees.”

The smile falters at the mention of the 107, mind drawing a picture of the broad eyed brunette, “they’re not too bad,” you find yourself saying, “I can respect the care they have for their people even if it costs a little extra to do so.”

Something flashes in the elderly lady’s eyes, “they do care for us don’t they,” she hums, “well still sweetheart consider the tip jar, any amount helps you know, times can be tough.”

And you did know, you knew how hard it could be for some of the other business owners to gather the remaining amount as the time for the fees drew closer and closer. You decided then as you bid Meredith a farewell that you would set out a tip jar. A tip jar not for your store, but for the other stores who needed that extra hand when it came time.

After Meredith leaves to tend to her flower shop with her husband Willie the shop is at its usual business of a flow of your regulars. Each one taking their usual along with the new bake that waits for them at the front of the shop by the register.

“Goodness y/n you’re going to have me rushing over here before your bakery closes for the evening these are wonderful!” Your smile is bright as you take in the delight of your neighbor, “please stop by, I’ll have some saved for you free of charge.”

You laugh at her surprise, “now y/n, I couldn’t let you give me these free,” she argues but you wave her off, “really it’s no trouble, I’d rather these go home with someone then in a trash bin at the end of the day.” And although you can see the argument that sits on her tongue, she thanks you anyway, leaving her extra change in the tip jar before promising to see you later in the evening.

The tip jar slowly fills as regulars drop their extra change along with their warmest welcomes and promises to see you tomorrow filling not only your jar but yourself with their kindness.  The hours tick by and before you know you’re flipping your sign and your lock for lunch, the thirty minutes giving you time to relax and enjoy yourself as you decide which pastry and drink, you’d like for lunch.

Your thoughts of lunch are forgotten at the sound of a knock at your door. Your brows furrow as you turn your head, heart catching in your throat as you meet the familiar ocean greys. He offers you a small smile through the glass door, mouthing if he can come in.  

You’re twisting on your feet before you can give it a second thought. Fingers twisting the lock as your hand wraps around the knob pulling the door open. “Bucky,” you greet, “is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine sweetheart, can I come in?”

You’re unsure what to say, the 107s leader never had reason before to come in outside of coming for their money at the first of the month, you wonder what’s gone wrong, were you short? Surely Steve and Sam had double counted the amount you were sure was there.

“I promise everything’s okay,” Bucky says as if reading your worry, “just came to talk.”

You want to say that he’s never come to just talk but you bite back your tongue choosing to hold the door open instead as you offer him room to come in. “Look if this is about yesterday evening Buck,” you begin as you walk further into the shop with the brunette, “there really are no hard feelings, I should have known I just -”

He’s turning on you then closing the last foot of space between the two of you, a shake to his head as he looks down at you, “you didn’t deserve my behavior in your office yesterday and for that I’m sorry. The first time we met you welcomed us – welcomed me with a kind smile, sweet words, and an even sweeter pastry, despite knowing what we were here for, despite our name you never looked at us any differently, never cowered away from me in fear.”

“Ma said it was never polite to judge a book by its cover, everyone’s got a story and I had yet to know yours.”

In that moment Bucky can’t believe you’re real, can’t believe he gets to know you and your kind heart. “I know you say everything’s okay, but I need to make it right. I hurt you last night y/n, and you didn’t deserve that, you’ve done nothing to deserve that behavior.” You’re the one shaking your head now, hands coming up to cross over your chest, a form of comfort as you choose your next words. “But you weren’t wrong Bucky, your visits have only ever been purely business, a simple transaction; you had never given me any reason to believe there was something more there aside from what I wanted to believe, what I let myself believe.”

“Do you really believe that, that it's just been business, a transaction?”

You want to say ‘no’, that you don’t believe it's just been business, but the uncertainty, the rejection has you biting your tongue. “We’re not friends outside of the business we do every first of the month Bucky, to an onlooker they might at most call us an acquaintance if they were to see our interactions, but I don’t think they would call what we do more than business.”

Bucky knows that you don’t believe that, can catch it in the way your gaze leaves his to instead look at the wooden floorboard of your shops. “Does it really matter what others think?”

“Does it,” you throw back, “it sure seemed like it mattered to you the other night.”

Bucky deserves it, despite the non malicious way your words came out he knows he deserves it, because he hurt you and despite this you’re still so kind to him. You don’t allow him a chance to get a word in as you shake your head rubbing lightly at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, look why don’t you join me in my office and we can talk about what you came here for over a pastry and your choice of beverage, I only have,” you looked at the grandfather clock, “22 minutes before I have to flip my sign over for the afternoon and I’d really like to eat something before the rush whaddya say Barnes you willing to sit and eat something with me, forget about the other day?”

Bucky knows there’s no forgetting that pain he saw flash across your features but he’s willing to start somewhere. “You going to let me pay for my meal?”

That draws a genuine smile out of you, “no can do Buck, but you can leave a tip in the jar if you’d like,” you say pointing to the tip jar sitting on display at your register.

“Everything okay, you in some trouble?”

You’re shaking your head with a laugh, “nothing like that, it’s not for me,” you say drawing a look of confusion from the brunette, “Meredith mentioned me putting one out despite my protests that financially I was okay, business might not be slow for me but it can for the other businesses on the block – it’s my way of giving back and lending a helping hand at the first of the month.”

“No one's mentioned struggling,” he murmurs, “I’d be willing to cut rent if I knew - if I have to get cheaper supplies to keep their shops up and running, we’d find a way, is this happening with all the shops?”

“Meredith was the first to voice something like that and I mentioned to her that despite the price it was a price paid to take care of your people – despite your grumpy demeanor,” you add with a smile. You’re moving around the shop then grabbing two pastries and two beverages, “c’mon Barnes, this way,” you say leading the way into your office, his hand shutting the door behind the two of you.

The two of you take the seats in front of your desk, your hands placing the sweets and drinks down on your desk as the two of you get comfortable.  

“So, Barnes, what did you want to talk about?”

He reaches for his pastry wanting to busy his hands as he tries to find the words of the plan he had shared with Steve and Sam earlier this morning. “Our conversation last night really had me thinking,” he begins, “that can’t be good,” you tease. He shakes his head giving you a look that has you hiding your grin behind a bite of the pastry. “Like I was saying,” he continues, “our talk last night, and the moment you shared with Meredith has me thinking, I don’t want my people to fear me, it shouldn’t be me they fear, I should be the one they’re able to come to, talk to about problems they face. I should be the one they come to when something goes wrong. Who am I if they fear me just as much as the others, who am I if the people I'm meant to take care of are they very same ones that cower from me in fear?”

“I don’t think its entirely because they fear you buck, do I think you intimidate them yes, but I don’t think it’s fear.”

Bucky reaches for his beverage next, needing to clear his throat, “fear or not, I don’t want them thinking they can’t come to me, that they don’t have a friend in me.” That has you smiling, an uptick to the corner of your mouth, “so what exactly are you going to propose to change this?”

“The guys and I have been talking with the holidays rolling around we thought we’d give something back to our community.” “Oh,” you question with a brow raised, “we were thinking we could bring everyone together and host a fall carnival of sorts.”

“I think everyone would enjoy that, would the 107 be hosting?”

“We would be,” Bucky nods, “but this is where you come in, I need your help.”

“My help, how?”

“I know it’s going to take some time for everyone to warm up to the thought of us like you have, so I was hoping you could help me spread the word. I’m hoping we can get all the businesses on the block to set up a table or booth courtesy of us to help them bring in more money.”

Your smile warms the brunette, a smile of his own pulling at his lips, “I’d love to spread the word, does this mean I'm getting my own booth?” Your brow raises at the smirk that tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth, “actually sweetheart, how good of a teacher are you?”

You let out a laugh, “uhm last I checked I was working in a bakery not a preschool, so I'm not sure how good of a teacher I'd be.”

“You think you’d have enough patience to show 8 bikers how to bake?”

“Is your baking as good as your driving,” you question, “my ma taught me a thing or two in the kitchen,” he answers, “well then it might not be such a lost cause,” you tease, “though the other seven, well I can’t speak for them.”

“So you’re in?”

Your smile is warm, “you can count me in Buck, I think it’ll be a nice change for all of us.”

He matches your smile, “I think so too.”

“So, you think this’ll work,” Bucky questions as he steps out onto the pathway, your sign flipping from closed to open.

“You can count on me to spread the word,” you offer with a warm smile, “but you should really try and stop in more often with the other shops, don’t let them judge your story by its cover, let them read it, let them see the you I see.”

Both your attention is pulled from one another by one of your regulars coming along, her eyes wide as she takes in the man before you. He offers her a smile, “good afternoon Alice, was just getting out of y/n’s hair, your pops still have that pasta special on Tuesday’s?”

The teenager nods not quite finding her voice at her first ever interaction with the biker, “Perfect I'll see the two of you later today if you can let your old man know I’ll be stopping by.” He’s turning to you then, “mind if I stop by later with the boys to grab some pastries from you, the ma’s will be visiting the club tomorrow, I'll even bring you a plate of pasta for the lunch today.”

“It was on the house Bucky, but I wouldn’t mind a plate of pasta from my favorite diner,” you say as you beckon Alice over, the teenager closing the distance between the two of you as she steps into the offered open door.

“Well then I'll be seeing the two of you later, you have a great shift sweetheart, Alice,” he nods in farewell.

You and Alice are seeing the man off, the loud rumble of his bike sounding through the block before he’s kicking off the curb and off onto the street. You two watch as he disappears off into the distance before you’re ushering the two of you into the quiet of your shop.

“The usual,” you say as you grab a paper bag for the girl, “I thought the others were just talking but Bucky Barnes was really here, is everything okay, did you run late on rent, I can talk to my dad, the others we can figure something out.”

You look at the girl over your shoulder a smile on your lips, “No, I gave my rent like all of you, Bucky was just here to tell me about a fall festival the 107 wants to host for the block.”

“Fall festival, the 107, are you sure we’re talking about the same biker group.”

You laugh softly as you turn back to your display grabbing the tongs from the side, “they’re not as scary as everyone makes them out to be, in fact they’re all a couple of sweethearts once you get to know them.”

“And how well do you know Bucky?”

You’re looking at the girl over your shoulder, dropping two extras of her favorites into the bag, a grin on the girl's face. “It’s not like that Alice, he’s just a -”

“Just a what,” she encourages, you’re looking down in thought before meeting her eye, “just a friend.”

The look that crosses the girls' features Is thoughtful as she asks her next question, “is that why the 107 lingers around here longer at the first of the month, because its more than just business?”

You’re turning toward the girl, handing her the bag as she moves over to the next case, “it’s still a transaction between two people but, yeah,” you nod, “it's definitely more than just business, just like when you come in.”

Alice smiles, “do you really think the 107 is going to be able to put on the fall festival you know with all the talk that surrounds them?”

“I’ve come to learn that actions speak louder than words, so yeah, I'm hopeful they will.”

“I hope so too, Mr. Barnes seems like a nice guy, under all that tough exterior,” Alice says as she follows you to the register.

He is you think, he really is.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Could I request something fluffy with Bam where he and the female reader get married? You write soft moments so well, takes the asshole out of him

Nice Day for a White Wedding

Preparing for a wedding isn’t easy, especially considering who you were getting hitched to.

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

919 Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language

An: Thank you so much for the request!! Seeing as how my shorter fics are all pretty successful, I thought I’d shake up my pattern of writing these behemoths :] A lot of this was based off of Unholy Union which i haven’t seen a ton of content for on here! I have never personally gotten married so I hope this is all pretty accurate to the experience! Thank you for the request and please keep sending them in!!

You had been breaking your back with this wedding and all Bam had done thus far was screw around with his buddies and play hooky from your meetings with the planner. Every time you tried to covertly bring up how you were thinking of tiger lilies for the center pieces or which catering companies you were considering, he’d flat out ignore you, instead opting to re-grip his skateboard or touch up his black nail polish with a sharpie marker. Once, after you pestered him about the guest list for the third time that day, he grabbed the notebook you were jotting down ideas on and tossed it into the fireplace. Even though it was a joke, you still told him off for that. It seemed that you were the only person taking this whole marriage thing seriously and time was ticking.

“Come on, Bam! The wedding’s in less than a month.” You groaned, leaning over the back of the couch to peer over his shoulder as his eyes were fixed on whatever was on tv, “You gotta get your shit together.” The last time the two of you did anything related to the wedding together was a month ago when Bam drove you up to New York to go dress shopping at this fancy department store, despite April’s protests about seeing the bride before the big day. There were stars in your eyes as you tried on dresses for hours, oohing and aahing at all the fancy gowns that looked straight out of a fairytale. Bam didn’t mind waiting because he got to look at you half naked.

But shopping for a tux didn’t provide as much eye candy as dress shopping and your boyfriend knew this. Bam groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes childishly, “Okay, fine! Fine! Let’s go then.” He tumbled off of the couch and went to put on a coat. You didn’t mean that you needed to leave right that second, but you weren’t going to say anything.

There was this tux store at King of Prussia mall in downtown Philly that you ended up at- nothing insanely fancy, but it would do. Bam was dragging his feet as you held him by the arm when a nervous sales associate came up to the two of you. “Welcome! Is there anything I can help the two of you with?” You elbowed Bam whose eyes were glazed over, too busy thinking about when he grabbed your ass last month in the fitting room when the measurement lady wasn’t looking. He blinked awake, clearing his throat, “Well, we’re looking for something in, like- a purple velvet? Maybe red?”

“No, we are not!” You playfully swatted Bam’s arm and he cracked a smile as you scolded him, “You are not going to wear a velvet tux to my wedding- not unless you’re gettin’ hitched to Ville.” Since the beginning, he had been begging you to get that Finnish rock star he was enamored with for the reception, so you had been teasing Bam about ditching you for him at the altar. He chuckled, pretending to consider the prospect, “Okay, fine! Well, maybe…no!” The sales associate cleared his throat, stuck in the middle of all of this, “Uh…do you think we could get the gentleman’s measurements first?”

The two of you were ushered into a fancy looking back room with lots of mahogany cabinets and tall mirrors. A serious looking man walked in after you who you assumed was a tailor as you took a seat on a bench at one end of the room with a smirk, watching. Bam awkwardly followed his deadpan instructions as he got measured- take off your shoes, stand with your feet together, turn this way.

Leaning down, the tailor guy wordlessly looped the yellow measuring tape between your boyfriend’s thighs and you could’ve sworn you heard a yelp from Bam as the tape was yanked tight. He popped up onto his toes and the man, who was at about crotch level at this point, spoke with absolute sincerity, “Can you please try to stand still, sir?” You couldn’t help but let a snicker escape at the sight of the red on your boyfriend's cheeks as he sighed, muttering something under his breath. Bam turned to you and mouthed something about the guy touching his balls and you mouthed back how a lot of people have touched his balls and this isn’t any different. Rolling his eyes at your response, you chalked it up as karma from the time he giggled when the fitting lady said your bust measurements out loud.

The rest of the fitting went off without a hitch and you eventually settled on a somewhat sensible black tux- on the condition that Bam could invite all of his idiot friends to be the groomsmen. Both of you headed out to the parking lot to load your purchases in, you bending to hook the wire coat hanger the suit was on to one of those handles in the car before getting into the passenger seat, “You know, I’m looking at invitations tomorrow if you’d wanna come.” Sliding in the driver's seat, your boyfriend shook his head, smiling, “You can do whatver you want- I don’t really give a fuck about that shit…” He leaned over the center council maybe a couple inches from your face, “I just wanna marry you.” Closing the distance, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you sweetly, exactly the way he couldn’t wait to at the altar.

[abigail-pent]

I'm about 3 weeks in to looking for a condo to buy in a major American city. These are my (horror) stories.

a weirdly large % of units with incredibly high-end appliances and just the shittiest cabinets and closets you could ever think of

an ALARMINGLY large % of buildings with no in-unit sprinklers. some of which also have no sprinklers in the whole damn building

one place that had beautiful, polished, shining marble tiles, with nice grouting in between each 1-foot square tile. was this tile limited to the bathroom? oh no. in fact there was different, worse tile in the bathroom. this tile was THROUGHOUT THE UNIT, IN PLACE OF NORMAL FLOORS.

one place that advertised its high ceilings. reader, it was a converted attic. in fact it had no ceiling, only slanted walls. I am serious. the ceiling was high at the peak of the roof and it went on a diagonal all the way down to the floor.

one place that had a fireplace, which is fine. but the whole wall surrounding the fireplace, above and next to it, were covered with mirrors. a mirror fireplace wall.

one condo building where the developers claim they will donate a portion of the sales price to World Central Kitchen to help feed displaced people in Ukraine. a cause so noble it almost distracts you from what HAS to be an attempt to offset tax liability.

one place with an outdoor porch surrounded on all sides by high-rise buildings. just in case you wanted to relax in a fishbowl.

so many weird smells. so, so many weird smells.

[cophene]

xii. piano.

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pairing : p. fugo x gn reader summary : after finding a pensive, choleric ghost, a sales clerk must do everything in their power to help him cross over. but that becomes unfairly difficult when it's so easy to forget that he's already dead. notes : 20th century au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.5k+

⊱ LIBECCIO’S MIGHT HAVE SOUNDED LIKE a family restaurant, but it turned out to be a smokey, elusive bar tucked into the crevices of the town. Even with a concrete address and Fugo’s hazy memory, you wouldn’t have been able to find it without relying on your Stand. You would have missed the bar entirely if it hadn’t been for the unassuming wood sign hanging under one of the building’s windows.

There was a kid sitting on the outside stoop, working a wad of gum in his mouth. He squinted up at you as you approached, a mean look on his face.

“What’s the password?” he drawled. You almost laughed but the kid was dead serious.

You flicked your eyes toward Fugo. Under the brim of his hat, you could see him muttering to himself.

“Try on the rocks,” he murmured.

You repeated it to the kid, who sneered at you. 

“Don’t waste my time. You’re just making yourself look stupid.”

What kind of bar had a kid posted outside as security? You could have just kicked him over and walked right over him.

“I don’t remember there being a password,” Fugo said. “I would’ve written it down in the journal. Why don’t you just ask the kid if—” A slow smile spread across Fugo’s face.

“No. I remember now. The password is Spice Girl.”

You wrinkled your nose, confused. Still, when you told the boy he sniffed grudgingly.

“Should’ve just led with that. Go on ahead. It’s been pretty slow today. You should be able to get a seat.”

The kid let you and Fugo through. The entrance didn’t lead directly into the bar like you’d expected, but to a descending staircase.

“You go first,” you said to Fugo.

He raised an eyebrow. “You know I won’t be able to protect you from anything, right?”

“Still. Just go first.”

As you went down the stairs, the lighting became dim and moody. You heard the faint rise and fall of conversation, chairs creaking and the clink of glass. It smelled like smoke and whiskey—smooth, illicit things.

The bar was smaller than you expected. It might actually have been a restaurant at one point, as the chairs and tables appeared to be refurbished. Peculiar paintings hung on the walls, blue-grey landscapes and people stretched out of shape. You weren’t one for drinking, but the liquor and drinking cabinets were to be envied, shining brightly enough to hurt. Off to your left was a small stage, a microphone set up and waiting for its performer.

There was only one bartender behind the counter, filling glasses with the efficiency of a machine. His white shirt and grey waistcoat were impeccable, a sharp red necktie knotted at his throat. His motions were graceful and well practiced; he barely paused what he was doing to talk to a new customer or say goodbye to one leaving. He neatly swiped away the glasses in front of you as you sat down. His gaze was intelligent, and his dark hair, cut bluntly at the chin, was dark enough to gleam blue.

“What can I get for you?”

“I don’t drink,” you said, catching sight of yourself in the mirror behind the bartender. You had to remind yourself that you wouldn’t find Fugo there, even as he stood beside you. 

“People only say that when they haven’t found their tastes.”

“Give me a recommendation, then.”

“A Bellini,” the bartender said, studying you for a moment. He smiled at Fugo. “And for you, sir?”

You would never get used to the way your chest clenched whenever someone recognized Fugo. Hope and fear and anxiety wrapping fingers around your heart. It didn’t seem like Fugo was used to it either. He stood perfectly still, his violet eyes wide.

It was only then that the bartender seemed to realize who he was looking at. His olive skin turned ashen, and the glass he had been holding slipped through his fingers to shatter on the ground.

The bar quieted. Everyone turned to look in your direction. Fugo only had eyes for the bartender.

“Apologies,” the bartender said. He retrieved a dustpan and brush and stooped to clear up the broken glass. “It’s been a long day, I’m afraid.”

Conversation in the bar resumed. Once the glass had been cleared, he gave you and Fugo a hard glare.

“The back,” he said. “Now.”

Wordlessly, you and Fugo followed the bartender as he left the counter and then slipped into a small room behind the stage. You closed the door behind you, blinking at the costumes and makeup strewn about. This was someone’s dressing room. It was uncomfortably warm here, the bare bulbs flickering around the single vanity mirror.

“Who are you?” the bartender asked. Barked, really. His demeanour was no longer pleasant.

“Can you see him?” You gestured to Fugo. “You were talking to him, right?”

Again, the bartender asked, “Who are you? How are you here? You disappeared weeks ago. You shouldn’t be back.”

He could see Fugo then, directing his questions straight at him. Annoyance flashed across Fugo’s face, but beneath it, he was relieved.

“My name is Pannacotta Fugo,” Fugo said. “We’re trying to figure out what happened to me. Something is preventing me from passing over. I have no choice but to remain here as a spirit until I deal with whatever is holding me back.”

Something cracked in the bartender’s gaze. He reached out a hand as though to graze Fugo’s arm before he dropped it. 

“So the rumours are true,” he said. “You’re dead.”

Fugo pursed his lips. “Yes.”

The bartender closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath. 

“I suppose I should have expected that. We didn’t hear from you for a while, but we always thought … I’m so sorry, Fugo.”

“Unless you’re the one who killed me, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Fugo has slowly been regaining his memories,” you said to the bartender. “He remembered this bar. We thought it might be of some significance to him.”

“You’re his tether,” the bartender said, looking at you.

“Yes.” You were surprised. “How did you know?”

“My mother used to tell me stories of spirits and the people they clung to. There always had to be a tether, to keep the spirit from drifting.”

If only that was all you were doing, you thought bitterly.

“You’re right that this bar has some meaning for you,” the bartender continued. “For a time, you were our main pianist.”

“I played the piano?” Fugo looked down at his hands. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Yes. You were talented, although you told us you’d never taken any lessons in the past.”

“You always gave me too much credit, Bucciarati.” Fugo’s eyes widened when he said the name. The bartender only smiled. 

“It’s coming back to you,” you said excitedly. “That’s good. It means we’re in the right place.”

“What did I play on the piano, exactly?” Fugo asked.

Bucciarati inclined his head at the sudden hush that had descended over the bar. “You should go out and see for yourself.”

Back in the bar, someone had ascended the stage, smiling easily as her accompanist tuned their guitar. She was small and slender, her hair a dark strawberry pink, and her eyes glittering like faceted emeralds. She wore a gorgeous blue gown that glided over her curves, the neckline cut daringly low. Fugo immediately went still when he saw her, his jaw going slack.

“Evening, everyone. I have a few special songs lined up for you. I hope you’ll have a fine evening tonight.”

Her voice was like liquid, golden smoke. You instantly felt yourself going soft.

And then she began to sing.

The way she sang was soft, a private conversation to which you were a rapt listener. She sang as though the lyrics hadn’t been written, but as though she created the words herself, imbuing each with a pearl of meaning. She sang like it was the only thing she had ever known, her voice nothing without a thread of song.

She was achingly lovely. When her songs came to a close, you almost cried out. You wanted more. The applause as she slipped off the stage was deafening, hoots and wolf-whistles all around. The singer waved a slender hand before she disappeared back into her dressing room.

“Who was that?” Fugo breathed. He was still staring at her empty spot on the stage.

“Trish Una,” Bucciarati said, just the slightest bit smug. “The only reason this bar is still in business, if I’m being honest.”

“She was wonderful. I’ve never heard someone sing like that before.”

“Surely you remember her. You two performed together for nearly a year. She always said you were her favourite pianist.”

Fugo looked awed. More than that, he looked like a man who had just seen the sun after weeks underground. You were glad to see such an obvious sign that he remembered her, but something else pricked your chest at the same time. 

Did he have to look at Trish so adoringly? She wasn't the one who had spent the past few weeks with him, combing through his life and trying to fit pieces together. She didn't even know he was dead. 

Why were you being so bitter? Couldn't you just be glad that Fugo had found someone important to him?

I should be the one he looks at like that. I'm the one who's going to help him pass on, not her.

“Can we talk to her?” you asked flatly.

Bucciarati shook his head. “The other patrons will be sore with me, thinking I’m playing favourites. You can meet with her after we close up. You’ll have more time to talk.” He began drifting back to the drinks counter. “I'll make a few more drinks to keep you occupied in the meantime. On the house.” 

Fugo seemed too nervous to drink, instead going to drift around the bar and peer into its nooks and crannies. You felt no such qualms, downing drinks almost as quickly as Bucciarati could set them in front of you. 

The bar did not close until the wee hours of the morning. Trish came out twice more to perform, and while Fugo seemed to grow more infatuated each time she came out, you only got more irritated. It would be just your luck if she turned out to be the key to unlocking Fugo’s past.

Finally, once everyone had cleared out, Bucciarati allowed you to speak to Trish.

“You were wonderful tonight,” Bucciarati said as he entered the dressing room. He handed her a glass of something you couldn’t identify. “That’s more people than we’ve seen all week.”

“I was wonderful, but that guitarist was dreadful,” Trish said haughtily. “It was a good thing I was covering his playing. He can’t play half as well as…” She trailed off, and you knew she had caught sight of Fugo.

He stepped forward, the smile on his face soft. He held his fedora against his chest, almost bashful.

“Trish. It’s good to see you again.”

Trish stood up so abruptly her chair toppled over. She stared at Fugo, openmouthed, her eyes wide.

“How … how are you …?”

“I’m a ghost,” he said. “We’re trying to figure out why.”

Trish’s eyes welled with tears. To your dismay, they only made her prettier.

“We should give them some privacy,” Bucciarati said, nudging you. Reluctantly, you followed him back out to the bar.

You shook your head when he pushed a glass toward you. Your vision was beginning to spin slightly, and you were pretty sure it had more to do with the drinks you’d been downing all night than your Stand.

“How do you know Fugo?” you asked. “How did he start playing for you?”

“Fugo came to us a little over a year ago,” Bucciarati answered. He ran a hand through his hair. I asked him if he was any good at performing and he said he could play the piano decently. Kid was a damn liar. He’s a natural.”

“Did he tell you anything about his personal life?”

“If you’re asking whether I have any suspicions about his death, I don’t. By all accounts, Fugo was a nice kid. Had a bit of a temper, but he always made up for it after the fact. I don’t know of anyone who would mean him harm.”

It was a predictable answer. A safe one. Except it had been given too quickly, and Bucciarati didn’t look at you as he said it.

It could have been you, you thought, perhaps a bit drunkenly. You could have killed Fugo.

“How long ago did you find him?” Bucciarati asked.

“Less than two weeks ago. We haven’t learned much since then. We know he went to college. He’s not very close to his family.” He’s a bit of an insomniac. He likes to read. And he can play the piano, apparently.

“What’s it to you? Why are you Fugo’s tether at all?” 

“It’s just the way things turned out. I found him and so I’ll help him cross over.”

Bucciarati pursed his lips. After a while, he asked, “Are you a Stand user?”

“I’m a psychic by way of dizziness,” you said, and grinned stupidly. You were very drunk. “So, yes. Are you?”

“It seems we have a habit of finding each other,” Bucciarati said.

“What’s your ability?”

“I’m afraid I don’t trust you enough to tell you.”

“You’re a Stand user. Giorno is a Stand user. My neighbour is a Stand user. I bet that cop is one too.” You laughed. “Everyone is a Stand user.”

Bucciarati frowned at you. “I shouldn’t have given you so many drinks.”

You were about to reply when you noticed Trish reemerge on the stage, Fugo just behind her. It wasn’t until Fugo sat down that you realized a piano had been hiding in the shadowy corners of the stage. As he stretched his fingers over the keys, Trish leaned over the frame, grinning at him.

Your heart lurched.

Fugo was out of practice, the song he played halting and hesitant. It was difficult to hear too, as though Fugo wasn’t applying enough pressure to the keys. You could see Fugo getting frustrated, but then Trish murmured something to him and he relaxed.

You strained to listen. The song that Fugo played now was a slow, jazzy number, the notes tinged with melancholy. Perhaps another memory overtook Fugo then, as he closed his eyes and allowed his body to move with the music. As the song swelled, it seemed like the easiest thing in the world for Trish to begin singing, her voice blending with the piano like lovers in a dance.

It was strangely intimate. You realized that although you had known Fugo for weeks, Trish had known him for over a year. Not as a ghost, but as a boy still living, with colour in his cheeks, the stage lights catching gold in his hair, and his slender hands moving across the piano keys. She would have heard him laugh, felt his touch, shivered at his breath stirring at her ear.

As you watched Fugo up on the stage, you felt your heart breaking for the boy you would never be able to meet.

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[thewriterg]

♡︎𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡♡︎

pairing(s): Steve Harrington x gn!reader, grumpy!reader x sunshine!steve

summary: You weren’t one to put your all into holiday day spirit hell you barely put anything into holiday spirit but your boyfriend Steve is hellbent on breaking you out of your ‘grinch persona’

word count: 350+

warning(s): Fluff, kisses, pet names, Steve being our favorite housewife, reader being a holiday hater 🤭, and language

A/n: —GIFs @mensource— Even after Christmas sales everything is still costing an arm, leg and kidney 🙄

“Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.” You grumbled rolling your eyes as You and Steve walked into the kitchen beginning to start on the Sugar cookies for Nancy’s Christmas party

Steve frowned at your lack of ‘holiday empathy’ opposites did attract but who the hell didn’t like the holidays!?

“I don’t know why you just won’t go” Steve huffed rolling his eyes while grabbing the flour and vegetable oil from the cabinets above the stovetop

“I don’t know why you just won’t go” Steve huffed rolling his eyes while grabbing the flour and vegetable oil from the cabinets above the stovetop

“Steve just because I’m not wearing a Christmas sweater doesn’t mean I’m not going” You mirrored The brunettes actions ‘The most dramatic man I know and I’m friends with Eddie Munson’ You though to yourself before going to sit down at a barstool behind the counter

“You know you remind me of the grinch” Steve said simply into the momentarily silence as he began pouring the ingredients he needed into the silver mixing bowl

“Sweetheart you hurt me” You mocked a gasp throwing a dramatic hand over your chest where your heart rested underneath while Steve just shook his head giggling at your antics

You and Steve exchanged conversation and before you knew it the brunette was already setting the Christmas themed sugar cookies into the oven thanks to the cookie cutter set he bought on a grocery shopping trip

“I’ll wear the stupid sweater. But Steve I swear to god if I break out you’ll hear nothing else but my complaining for-” Steve cut you off taking your body into his embrace as he spun you both around in circles

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” The brunettes voice muffled into the fabric of your hoodie while you couldn’t help that small smile that fell onto your lips

“Can you make hot chocolate?” You question breaking into the comfortable silence that fell over you both while Steve smirked over your shoulder

“If you name all the reindeer I will.”

[expatesque]

Referring to your recent post, would love to see some of the fun things you’ve bought! You have the best taste 😊

Aw thank you.

So the main categories of things have been home stuff and fashion stuff. I do have a tag (of course) but haven't posted everything so to summarize...

Home stuff

Living room: The swan table (an icon, a queen, the inspiration for the room), the insane green velvet chair (we love her, gotta keep it eclectic), snake rug (hiss hiss), a fundamentally impractical sofa (Ikea, concessions had to be made somewhere. I'm going to restuff to make it look more fluffy and expensive). I'm keeping my vintage curio cabinet, 1960's referencing 30's circular bar cart, black arched lamp, and big rubber plant. The inspiration is somewhere between this 1930's Thorne miniature room and hummusbird. I need some paintings, a little table for under the window to display a great vase (got this one in ivory, tbc if it's the right size), and some big new throw pillows (I'm thinking dusky pink). Oh also I'm getting a fish to go in the bookcase (I wanted a white Betta but my dad has said that's a bad idea and suggested a gold fish instead).

Kitchen: An oval marble topped cast iron bistro style table. Keeping my black bistro chairs (2x) and will also use 2 of my armless ghost chairs (like these). Likely to get a small floating island to get a little more counter space. Also bought an insane copper kettle ala my man Rajiv recently.

Main bedroom: I've got a new headboard for my bed (this one), I'm getting rid of the wardrobe in there (using the one in the 2nd bedroom) and will replace it with a vintage dressing table and mirror (I do like this one but would rather not spend that given... everything else) to display my great great grandmother's silver mirror, brush, etc. Need some big Euro shams and perpetually looking for a navy woven blanket that's big enough (I want it like, almost duvet sized).

2nd bedroom: Currently is an office / video game room, turning into a proper 2nd bed. I'll use my meh existing bed, need bedside tables, maybe a new desk chair.

Fashion stuff

It's been a lot of big skirts (my love the Prada one, a really full white canvas-y one, this crazy pink one, a beige cashmere Theory one), a set of heavy ribbed tops with high necks in black and browns (for autumn, this is one of them), a few cropped cardigans (can't find any specific ones that I've bought right now, but short enough to wear with the skirts), a totally sheer cream colored top (that is proving surprisingly versatile already), two cheap Zara wrap vests that I'm waiting to arrive (one in cream and one in black, we'll see the quality when they get here), a Victorian gold charm bracelet (+ a charm of a monkey holding a pearl), a pair of really gorgeous silver and mother pearl earrings from the 50s, some rag and bone soft leather mules, some baby blue Mary Janes, and a set of tiny kitten heels that I really like but am not sure I'm keeping (they're a little narrow but I think I could stretch them). I think there's more but if I think too much about it I'll be stressed (rip my budget). Pro tip: Laura Riley has an incredible fashion newsletter that rounds up what's new and what's on sale -- I've gotten almost everything I've bought on 50%+ off.

[lordzannis]

Cleaning the garage can be a big task, but with a systematic approach, you can get it done efficiently. Here's a step-by-step guide:

Materials Needed:

Broom and dustpan

Vacuum cleaner (optional)

Trash bags

Cleaning solutions (all-purpose cleaner, degreaser)

Scrub brushes or sponges

Hose or pressure washer (optional)

Towels or rags

Storage containers or shelves (optional)

Step-by-Step Guide:

Plan and Prepare:

Set aside a block of time when you won't be interrupted, as garage cleaning can take a while.

Clear out a space in your driveway or yard to temporarily store items from the garage.

Gather all necessary cleaning materials.

Declutter:

Start by removing everything from the garage. Sort items into categories such as keep, donate, sell, or discard.

Dispose of any broken or unnecessary items. Bag up trash and set aside items for donation or sale.

As you declutter, take the opportunity to organize items you plan to keep. Group similar items together for easier storage.

Sweep and Vacuum:

Sweep the garage floor thoroughly to remove dust, dirt, leaves, and debris. Use a broom to reach corners and edges.

If you have a lot of dust or cobwebs, consider vacuuming the walls and ceiling with a vacuum cleaner attachment.

Remove Stains and Spills:

Inspect the floor for oil stains, grease spots, or other spills. Apply a degreaser or cleaning solution to these areas and scrub with a brush or sponge.

Rinse the floor with water, and use a hose or pressure washer for stubborn stains if available.

Allow the floor to dry completely before moving on to the next step.

Clean Surfaces and Fixtures:

Wipe down shelves, cabinets, and any other surfaces in the garage with an all-purpose cleaner or disinfectant.

Pay attention to light switches, doorknobs, and other frequently touched areas.

Clean windows and mirrors using glass cleaner and a microfiber cloth.

Organize and Store:

Once the garage is clean, decide on an organization system that works for you. Consider installing shelves, hooks, or cabinets to maximize storage space.

Store items in labeled bins or containers to keep them organized and easily accessible.

Hang tools or equipment on hooks or pegboards to free up floor space.

Group similar items together (e.g., gardening tools, sports equipment, automotive supplies) for efficient storage.

Maintain Regularly:

Make a habit of tidying up the garage regularly to prevent clutter from building up again.

Sweep or vacuum the floor as needed, and spot clean spills or stains promptly.

Revisit your organization system periodically to make adjustments as needed.

By following these steps, you can tackle cleaning and organizing your garage effectively, creating a functional and clutter-free space.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Stunning 1880 Italianate Victorian Painted Lady in Claysville, Pennsylvania. 5bds, 4ba, $475K. For that price, this gorgeous home is a bargain.

So many original features are seen the moment you enter the hall. There's a beautiful newel post, a large stained glass window on the landing, and on the left you can see a bit of a fancy fireplace.

The first sitting room has a lovely carved fireplace.

The millwork in this home is amazing.

The fireplace that was glimpsed from the hallway is in this sitting room.

The dining room looks like a step back in time.

This is a good kitchen reno. They chose vintage-y cabinets with wood that matches the rest of the house.

Pretty tile backsplash and although it's more of a galley kitchen, it's pretty big.

At the other end of the kitchen is a nicely sized everyday dining area, plus a counter with stools.

The stairway features a gracefully curving rail.

The landing is beautiful.

This bedroom has a fireplace and a little ivy mural.

This bath is professionally painted and has a nice reproduction tub and sink.

The primary bedroom is elegant.

Amazing primary en-suite has a copper tub, Victorian water tank toilet and a repro Victorian shower. A sink cabinet was made from an antique dresser.

Another pretty room and look at the mirror over the sinks.

It also has an etched glass door on the shower and a jetted soaker tub.

The hallways are so pretty.

In the back of the house is a carport, a large wraparound porch, and look at the pattern on the roof, plus the tower. This home is gorgeous.

[ckret2]

are you going to put your mystery shack on the gallery when you finish it? and did you use a lot of cc for it?

(for anyone who missed it, we're talking about this Sims 4 build.)

Eventually, yeah! Though I'm not quite finished with it yet. There's a few more things I wanna fix up first. I'll put them under a cut since it's a long list lol.

But the build actually uses zero CC! I actually started building the shack as a way to pass the time on patch days so that I could have a CC-free project to work on whenever I'm wait for all my mods to get updated lmfao. Even the paintings of Bill aren't flagged as CC. (I used in-game objects to create a big architectural structure that looks like Bill, maxed Ford's painting skill, and sent him to go paint the scenery.)

Incidentally, if you want to have a couple of Authentic No-CC In-Game Bill Cipher Paintings, I HAVE put those up on the gallery:

Sorry the preview image sucks. I do not control how the gallery puts up preview images.

(I thiiiiiink I've also put up a couple of yes-CC Bill Cipher paintings that nevertheless still work in-game without you have it to download anything? They look like the actual tapestry in Mabelcorn. But you've gotta turn on the "allow CC" flag when searching the gallery to see them.)

Some of the objects were placed using the TOOL mod—for instance, that RoM rug I stuck on the wall to serve as the Portal—but objects placed with TOOL will stay put even if you don't have TOOL, so you won't need it to download the shack and use it as-is and it won't be flagged as CC when it's uploaded to the gallery.

And the things I still need to fix, off the top of my head:

I'm gonna replace the bookcases in Ford's study with the new bookcases from the book nook kit, so that the books on the shelves will look a bit more diverse.

In the show, there's a spiral staircase to nowhere in Ford's study. I'm gonna put a ladder in that spot and connect it to an extra bathroom. For the size of this build, it's got way too few bathrooms.

And on that note: outhouse. The shack needs its outhouse.

I've gotta rearrange the position of Stan's bedroom and the attic window seat. When I originally put the window seat in the build, I was going off Headhunters where it seemed to be on one end of the house; but from later episodes it seems more accurate to put the window seat on the side of the house (as the window under the roof hangout spot).

I found some better screenshots of the main bathroom, so I've gotta fix it up—put the toilet in the correct spot, add its second mirror, etc.

I need to finalize the route to the roof hangout spot. The show has the characters climb on the roof to get to it, which just isn't an option in the sims; so trying to find a route up that still looks kinda canon-accurate has been giving me trouble for the whole build.

I wanna shuffle around the position of the basement rooms a little bit so that the elevator entrance doesn't feel quite so cramped.

Now that we got some brand new functional backpacks and lunchboxes in game, I wanna drop them in the attic for Dipper and Mabel to use.

I might change the gift shop up a bit. Right now I've got all the "for sale" souvenirs on a big wooden display cabinet, and it looks very nice; buuut it's not canon accurate, it's supposed to be a glass display case. And I AM trying to be canon accurate. Even if the wooden display cabinet looks nicer.

I'm not quite sure if uploading a fishbowl full of fish to the library will keep the fish in that bowl, but just in case it does, I wanna have Mabel go catch a lobster and put it in the fish tank (to parallel the lobster she gets in The Hand That Rocks The Mabel). Too bad there's no axolotls in TS4.

Similarly, I'm not quite sure if items stolen by kleptomaniac sims retain those "stolen item" flags when uploaded to the gallery; but just in case they do, I wanna make a Gleeful household just so that Stan can steal their sad clown painting to hang in the living room lmfao.

Now that we can paint ceilings, I've gotta paint ALL THE CEILINGS!

I got like six packs/kits just to use a few extra items in the Mystery Shack build lmfao, so I've gotta go through all those items with a fine-tooth comb to see if they can replace any items I currently have.

I've been putting off placing a lot of columns/corbels/rafters until the end, since while I was still shifting around the rooms they just got in the way. Now's the time to finish that.

I think I'm gonna redo how I handle the door to the cellar, TOOL mod willing, to make it more accurate and less wonky-looking.

I've been playing in the house a little bit to test it, so I've gotta do some housecleaning before we're ready to upload to the gallery: wash the dishes, mop up the mess Mabel made in the floor room, pick up the seed packets the gnomes tossed all over the place...

When I first made the shack, I actually started with somebody else's build I found on the gallery, and then went "wait this is inaccurate as hell and kind of sucks, all the rooms look wrong and the layout is VERY wrong," and I basically bulldozed it piece by piece to remake it myself. But because I started with someone else's build, it still retains an "originally made by this other guy" flag when I save the lot. This annoys me. So I've gotta find a way to get rid of that flag before uploading to the gallery.

[ryuutchi]

VegasPete Chapter-by-Chapter: Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Vegas gets home at midnight, smelling like alcohol. He has many soft and fluffy feelings about Pete. Boy does Vegas love Pete. Also, he’s confused as to where the bruises on Pete’s sides came from. Pete’s just clumsy. Weird how he managed to be the deputy head bodyguard of the main family when he keeps injuring himself. >.>

Pete cuddles Venice and curses Vegas out for going out drinking without him. He comments that Porsche has been getting home late too, and Vegas is relieved Pete doesn’t press the issue. Instead Pete optimistically tells Vegas he loves “everyone who loves me, who wishes me the best.” Vegas muses that Pete is always stubbornly positive. They kiss, Pete tells Vegas it’s 1am and if Vegas really loved him, he’d go the hell to sleep.

The next morning, we learn Pete doesn’t trust most people with Venice. Pete also, unfortunately, has to go see Thankhun for reasons unspecified. He pushes Vegas to take Venice to work with him instead. Vegas understands because he too does not want to spend time with Thankhun. Vegas tries to weaponize incompetence. Pete is having none of it. “If you don’t know how to change his diaper, open youtube!” 

Porsche calls Vegas for help, and Pete sends Venice off with him. 

Vegas drops Macau off at university. Venice cries upon finding himself alone with Vegas and without Pete or Macau. Vegas makes Nop (currently driver) stop and switch places with him because we're too early in the book for them to get along. At the main family compound, Vegas gives Venice a bottle to shut him up. Porsche is a Sad Boi, turning to Vegas in his time of weakness. Porsche rests his forehead on Vegas’ shoulder, and they hold each other for comfort. Then Nop shows up with Venice and Porsche jumps like they're in a romcom and Pete’s about to misunderstand.

Venice needs his diaper changed and we get a few more comedic paragraphs of Vegas learning how to love his baby brother. Then it’s time for a work meeting! Thankfully, the work meeting doesn’t mind a baby crawling around. This being the book it is, our meeting is an arms sale so of course Venice picks up a gun. And licks a bullet. Denied these delicious treats, Venice starts sobbing again. Enjoy a cute scene of Vegas trying to get Venice to stop crying by bribing him with a car– of course, the moment Venice stops being a sobbing brat he… disappears. Vegas, as new parents do, panics and starts opening every cabinet– fuck his reputation as a scary, cool guy. Pete calls, Vegas pretends everything’s fine while secretly freaking out. 

“Who’s kid is this?” asks Kinn, picking Venice out of a trash can. Kinn found Venice just before Pete showed up (whew), so Vegas pretends nothing went wrong, and hands Venice over to Pete for a shower and nap.

Vegas heads to the study for a meeting with Korn. Korn, as always, acts warm and kind, and Vegas trusts exactly none of that. Beside Korn is Kim, who mocks Vegas for running around looking for the baby. Korn shrugs it off, and suggests that Venice be transferred to the main family’s care. “No one can raise their nephews as well as me,” this bastard says.

Speaking of family, how’s Porsche doing? Since Vegas has been trained since childhood to run the minor family business, he’s been tasked with getting Porsche up to speed. Kinn accuses Vegas of working Porsche too hard– he’s angry, probably jealous and Vegas enjoys it. He respects Kinn and he sees Korn in Kinn. but the real evil is Kim. “Kimhan is a gamechanger for Korn.”

Thankhun interrupts the pissing contest. Vegas came to tell them how Porsche is doing, Porsche is doing great! Vegas allows himself appreciation of Thankhun filling in the cracks in the relationships. Korn comments that brothers should forgive each other. “Use love as I taught.” Vegas, seeing the emotional manipulation for what it is, decides it’s time to gtfo. He looks himself in the mirror and knows he’ll have to play the part of the devil to face the devil in this game.

[Translation credits: @500od4 at Twitter and vegus__luv on Wattpad. Editing: @tzigane and @fleet-off]

[moldy-memes]

Weird Things Said On Discord || Part 2

ft. @perennial-tenacity and several pinned comments in discord servers. Contains nsfw language.

My brain is useless now. Throw it to the wolves. Toss it in the ocean. Sell it as an MLM.

How can you be down bad when you don't have a crush. Down bad but who in the HELL for?

Ahhhh vengeance. So worthwhile. So sweet.

For some reason, my body seems to think I’m a strapping young newlywed getting home to be greeted by my amorous spouse and not in fact a tired tomboy about to go flop on the couch with my family to watch Everybody Loves Raymond and eat Dairy Queen.

I planned out your murder to the atom, but Home Depot doesn’t have a sale on shovels so I didn’t do it.

It’s like saying “Bloody Mary” three times in the mirror, just if you say “gay” nine times in the mirror I get cursed with lewd thoughts I shouldn’t have.

I feel like I just spoke an obvious truth and people are handing me cookies for doing it.

I'm waiting for them to light a fire under my ass for saying that, but joke's on them, my house is cold I'd love some fire.

Peace is like closure, it's made up to sell movie tickets and game cartridges.

Fuck I just made the cutest noise I’ve ever made in my life. I WANTED TO SAVE THAT FOR MARRIAGE!

I didn't come out of the closet, I came out of the cabinet like all other pans.

My odds are looking WAY better now that literally anyone can meet one of my standards.

You wanna hook up with your boss? In THIS economy?

Oh especially in this economy. Gotta get a raise by giving him a raise.

Who are you, Al Pacino’s discount cousin?

Welcome to the Bottoms Club. We have sandwiches. You know, subs.

This is the funniest shit ever. I can't see shit.

That's a picture of the abyss.

Once you're ready, that cat will give you your first quest.

Orphans are going missing. [Name]'s going to hijack a cult. Same old, same old.

It's 1:30 in the morning where I am so maybe I will make the healthy choice and get off for the night.

The basement cat recognizes me as a primary food giver now.

[nancypullen]

Where Was I?

It’s been a busy few days, where did I leave you? I think we were stuffing our faces with Valentine food.  I’ve been on a celery and salad kick since then - my arteries need scrubbing.  Since then we’ve made more progress on the kitchen (hardware added, sink and faucet ordered, quartz counters ordered) and I love it more every day.   Here’s the hardware -

They’re a warm, oil-rubbed bronze finish and Mickey made short work of attaching them to 28 cupboards and drawers.  My hero.  That’s why you see a glimpse of his shop vac in the second photo - he even sucked up sawdust from his drill as he worked.  His mama trained him right.   We finally chose and ordered our countertops. I spent a long time shuffling and staring at samples.

I thought I’d be more of a fan of the sort of soapstone sample - the rectangular, dark tile that’s middle left.  Maybe I should have waited until we had the hardware on and viewed hem that way. Nah, I knew that I was getting the right vibe from some of the beige pieces.  I zeroed in on one that is a few shades darker than the cabinets, but in the same family. Not too cool, not too warm, has a soft, creamy feel, that sort of thing.  

I didn’t like the really busy samples at all.  The darker options seemed too harsh in the open concept (I hate that phrase) floor plan we have. Beige worked best, but some were too light, some were too gray, and the sample named Taj Royale was baby bear’s chair - just right.

Our installation date is March 10th and I can’t wait.  Hallelujah! In even better news, Matt arrived yesterday!  He came home to spend his birthday week with us and it’s already been fun. Tomorrow he’ll be 38 and there’s absolutely no way I can have a child that old. NO way. How did that happen?? Obviously, I was a child bride. When Matt and I are together something weird usually happens.  We’re both freak magnets, and we thoroughly enjoy that.  Today we went out and about on a couple of errands but it was all very ordinary. Bummer.  We’ll try again tomorrow.

One of the stops that we made today was at an auction house.  There’s a company in Denton that deals in estate sales and that sort of thing and they have an auction every week.  During the pandemic everything went online and they’ve never gone back to hosting live auctions.  They post a catalog of items every Sunday and customers have all week to scroll through it.  On Saturdays and Sundays they throw open the doors so you can inspect the goods, and bidding ends on Monday, with auctions closing every few seconds.  We have lost our ever-loving minds over this stuff.  Last week we picked up two Cracker Barrel rocking chairs for less than the price of one.  Score!  I bought a gorgeous large mirror to start a makeover of the downstairs powder room...and only paid four dollars for it. The cheapskate in me is quivering with delight.

Here’s the mirror, stashed in the garage.  You can see the rockers too!

Don’t judge that corner of the garage. It’s a work in progress.

I’ve picked up batches of gorgeous picture frames for a few dollars. Mickey won the bid for a beautiful Longaberger storage basket with a wooden lid that is currently storing vinyl and paper in my craft room. It’s so nice. We turned Tyler and Jamie on to the auction sit and they’ve made a couple of fabulous purchases.  Yesterday’s auction had some wonderful patio furniture that I wish I had a need for - and it went cheap.  We did get these great wicker trunks for the master closet, perfect for keeping things tidy.

They’re in excellent condition and you know I love pretty storage.  I couldn’t resist this adorable baby doll cradle.

It rocks perfectly.  I’ll clean it up and make it sweet for the grandgirl to tuck her baby into. You know there will be rosebuds and lace involved. One of the items that Jamie purchased was an exceptionally nice faux plant. She’d been shopping for one for their home office, and as you know they’re ridiculously pricey.  I sent her pics from the auction house of three different plants and this was the winner.

She won it at just over the five dollar mark.  She’ll fluff it up and put it in a pretty pot and she’s saved herself about a hundred bucks. I’m giddy over the bargains.

Mickey purchased this thing.

He says it’s a saw, and that giant rolling case has some saw-related paraphernalia in it.   He’s looking toward retirement and thinking of making frames (for his millions of photos) and doing a bit of woodworking like his dad did.  I’ve shared a few of the purchases the Pullen family made, and left out a bunch of odds and ends that were smaller. A wooden desk organizer, vintage bowls, etc.  Mickey was working today and the Edgewaters are over the bridge doing the same, so I told everyone that I’d be happy to pick up all of the winnings.  I love doing it and it makes me look like a big spender.  BUT...I forgot that our SUV is in the shop (that’s another story) and we have a rental.  A little sedan with a trunk just about the size of that doll cradle.  Matt said he’d come with me to help load up and I warned him that I might have to make three trips.  Those big wicker trunks, that enormous saw and case, the large plant, the cradle, the odds and ends...oh dear.  Luckily, I raised kids in the generation that played countless video games and Matt’s Tetris skills kicked in.  We filled every nook and cranny of that little car and got it all home.

It wasn’t purty but we got ‘er done. Now I’ve got to wrap this up and get dinner on the table.  I started a pork loin in the crockpot about 11am and I’ve got taters and green beans to roast. I’ll add a balsamic glaze to the pork loin and serve it all to these hungry boys.  Later I’ll sneak upstairs and wrap the last couple of gifts for the birthday boy and tomorrow we will celebrate him. Sounds like a recipe for a wonderful day. I hope you’ve got something on the calendar to look forward to - anticipation is half the fun.  If not, put something on the calendar - “treat myself to a facial” or “picnic in the park”.  Oh gosh, stretching out on a blanket with a good book after a picnic lunch sounds like something I need to schedule.  Choose something you’d enjoy and make it happen.  Life is short, might as well make it sweet. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well.

Nancy P.S. I typed this super fast, I’m sure I’ll look at it later and cringe over the typos. Have mercy.