#and i have a colorful area rug in my kitchen and all of my stuff is mismatched

[harrystylescherry]

I hosted a party this weekend (hence why i completely vanished after being so active last week) and one of my friends told me that i have the apt of a heroine from an early 2000s rom com, followed up by “you know, the ones who own bookstores or are journalists and shit” and that is the biggest compliment i’ve ever received

[moodywyrm]

i just redid my room this week,, and it has me wondering what abby and readers room/apartment would look like !! and if they would have any pets or plants and things of those sorts !!

-🧸

you have just opened the floodgates. I fucking love home decor n decorating shit, I literally went Bonkers when I got to decorate my bedroom in my college apartment.

ok so I drew out a floor plan.

so this is gonna be. a big one. so. jerry spared literally no expense when he got abby her college apartment. sure its one bedroom one bath, but it's got a spacious living room that connects to the kitchen. there's a big ol island in the kitchen where abby got so many stools bc she wanted to fit all of her besties. thinks her washer n dryer are in the worst spot ever, but they're the stacked ones so it isn't as bad as it could be. that lil area next to the patio? her reading spot. she never really knew what to do with the space until she met you, and then it clicked. reading nook. one of your guys' favorite dates was hitting every thrift store you could to find a good coffee table and old armchairs. one green, one pink, one baby blue. she loves them to bits, they're absolutely moving into her next place with her. she literally Made a bookshelf to store all the books you gradually left at her house, and it's become your joint shelf now <3

the sofa is Huge and her dad bought it for her, it's black upholstery. her apartment doesn't have one particular style, just very Abby. I forgot to draw it in but there is absolutely a trophy case in the living room. her medals and old jerseys are on the wall, mixed with your band posters and art prints. her favorite parts are the framed photo graphs of her friends and family, including multiple of you. she specifically picked an apartment with great windows, and this came in so handy when you moved in because the both of you basically have a fucking Jungle of plants. Hanging plants, plant stands, plants on every surface. ur babies. the walls are a kinda neutral white color, nothing super special, but it really doesn't matter when it's covered in so much stuff! plus, you usually have colored lights on (like salt lamps, candles, bluetooth color shifting lightbulbs), that the walls are usually just whatever color you want them to be. the couch is covered in throw blankets, that you brought in. the main living area, bedroom, and closet are all dark oak hardwood-tile, with the softest rugs known to man, especially in the bedroom bc neither of you want to step on ice cold tile in the winter.

the bathroom is a different, simple white tile. the shower has glass sliding doors, that abby absolutely uses to look at u while u shower n vice versa <3 it has a built in tub that u make full use of. the bathroom counter is covered in candles, trinkets, skincare, hygiene products, but all very organized bc it makes abby stress less.

the bedroom. ok. her bed? godly. so fucking comfy. king sized, with the softest sheets ever and the plushest comforter and blankets. satin pillowcases you brought in <3 abby religiously washes her bedding, so it cycles from black to pink to blue every three weeks. the bedroom walls are also covered in art prints and wall hangings, but all of these were picked by the both of you. a lot of it is thrifted or bought from local artists, bc you absolutely drag abby to local craft fairs and the like <3 that chest at the end of the bed holds spare bedding and ,,,, other things ,,,, it is locked. on the wall between the doors to the bathroom and closet is a huge standing mirror, and underneath it is a small table and area for you to do your makeup. gives you top tier fit pics, it is also the mirror abby uses for ,,,, other things. it also! gives u a perfect look at abby while she's working at her desk. above her desk is a huge wall grid/corkboard that she hangs a bunch of shit on. I forgot to draw them in but she also has more bookshelves on the wall across from the bed, specifically four small-medium ones, separated by a dresser that holds a bunch of spare stuff and some of her workout gear that she uses often enough to keep out of the closet.

ok the fun stuff. books fucking Everywhere!!! and cool dishware that you thrifted when you moved in. the kitchen is so well loved and worn in, bc you two love cooking together. the couch is much the same way, well worn n comfortable as all hell, literally one of your favorite spots in the apartment. ur actual favorite spot? the patio. it's beautiful, covered in plants, always burning incense out there, comfortable seating, a beautiful view of the park across the street. u and abby spend your weekend mornings out there, usually bundled up into one big chair while abby dozes and you read, drinking coffee or tea or your preferred morning beverage. the apartment smells so good bc candles and incense and abby's rigorous cleaning. her apartment feels like home for the both of you, carefully curated to be a little sanctuary after long days of classes and practices and just general stress.

this is my magnum opus. I have a problem. I will probably speak more on this.

[licially]

Interlude #1

//Hey y'all, I never normally post stuff on here but that is because I've been stressed to death between project works, writer's block and general burnout for the last week. //I managed to push this out but I have been taking a break since then. This goes out to @blogplutocrat, and my second real attempt at angst with a theme? I'm not sure what to make of it but I will keep practicing.

It hasn’t been unusually quiet within the household, yet today stands a contradiction. The busy streets outside of the complex proved a superstition, but the quietness that surrounded the place made it all the more mysterious what this superstition was supposed to be. The tenants of the apartment that was decrepit enough to house those financially unfortunate enough were silent. Not a slight footstep, not a shuffle and not a word from the walls. The hallways replied to the silence with the same, until a door creaked open from the bottom floor. The disruption of what seemed a peaceful silence reverberated back to the person, who gave a deep sigh as they shut the door slightly behind them. They didn’t seem to mind it, as if they were also basked in it. Slowly, they trailed towards the staircase that stood towards the side without longer hesitation. The climb was made difficult with the heels that they wore, and the reach to the second floor was relieved by the contact of the floor.

The footsteps did stop, merely for a moment as they caught up on their breath under what window of time and place they had. Their hair, a low cut that didn’t expand past their head, swirled the air surrounding them. It also partially revealed a dress that they wore, as she sighed one more time. Through the vague lighting that sporadically bounced through the hallways and emptiness of the rooms, she waltzed through the darkness. It was eerie, not only because of the lack of life but what was present didn’t want to make itself known. She kept at it, her steps brought more authority and rule over a place that was chaos crossed with introspection. 

Quiet thoughts also lingered as she filtered the insanity within: What place is this, and why does it feel like an infinity unexplained? Where was she going, and where is the room she was looking for? How did she end up here, and not back at the apartment that she previously entered? She pondered, as she stopped to catch her breath and what little sanity she had left. Her questions still stood untested, and she still kept going at both. The questions only brought answers, and more questions that arose. She was distressed, under stress and everything she did was under duress.

Eventually, she found the number of the room that belonged to both her and her significant other. The door, engraved with a golden plaque that read out the number ‘4514’, which is also supported by the glow that emanated from the borders. She swiped at the door handle, and out she went towards her apartment, in the sunlight that brought color back to the empty void that was outside.

The entrance was short and narrow, with the walkway immediately going towards the living area that served both as a dining place and a kitchen place. The space expanded to a singular window, sat towards the streets below and faced a multitude of buildings across a tiny section of St. Louis’ metropolitan area. Towards the left, a bathroom that tucked itself away with cracks slightly forming at the sink and above towards the roof. The right handside was a bedroom that she and her boyfriend shared endearingly. Although it didn’t seem like much, she called this place her home, and even decorated it with various things. A tiny chandelier that lit up the space between the windows and the living space, which had a rug and several comfortable chairs that stood around a circle. It also included instruments, strawn over the place.

However, she wasn’t quite sure that this place was home. Considering where she was mere moments ago, she had every right to be paranoid that this place was another nightmare or something entirely fabricated. After taking off her heels onto a nearby shoe rack, she checked outside once again to see if the void still existed out there. Outside, the apartment felt normal again. She heard chatter and shuffling coming from all parts of the building; from down the hall, two people were going on about the recent murder spree by someone, another person walked out from a door just closer towards the end of the hallway that took one quick glance around them before they were gone and the hallway was lit up by the windows that she did not see as she came home. 

Weird. She swore she could have been going through this space without any lights to help her, and no one to help her. She didn’t want to sound like a lunatic going around, so she wanted to figure out the answer on her own. As she closed the door and went back inside, the previous ‘how’ and ‘why’ questions had a different name under it: “Why did everything disappear, and why did everything seem so… normal?” she uttered aloud, going through towards the windowsill, as she looked outside and letting the sunlight hit her. It’s here her eyes pondered through the streets and her mind subconsciously dwelled on the questions.

Through the cars and stars that she can and can’t see, she was searching for an answer: Why did she go through the impossible apartment? She paced around the room, trying to sort out herself as she was just outside in the heat, clasping a briefcase with a great deal of care and a suit. Throughout her journey through the household, she held herself on a high after that entire encounter. The soft steps turned softer, her hair became more undone, and her moody attitude seemed to seep into what she was wanting to do.

“What even was that- I don’t get it!” She frustratingly thought out loud, her head and body swaying through the complex to do maintenance: sweeping the household, preparing food from the fridge to cook for her and him for tonight. Since he hadn’t been home at all, she thought ahead and prepared one of their favorite meals together: a simple spaghetti carbonara, with bacon pieces and a sauce she had also prepared the night before. Although it wasn’t everyday she cooked like this, it’s… much better than his monstrosities.

Like ‘pancakes with bacon and eggs on top, with syrup drizzled all over it’ type of monstrosity.

She stopped by now, and planned to do more to the place to make it look pretty. Two sharp knocks came from the front door, unexpectedly so. Lola put everything aside, and yelled out a “coming!” before slowly making her way towards it. Unusual, since she hadn’t had anyone made plans with her, let alone have them come over to this dingy apartment. To have someone knock is either someone from across the hall, or it was Rocky, which shouldn’t be home until about 7PM. Regardless, she wouldn’t dare answer if it weren’t for the peephole that came with the door. She peeked through, and she was surprised.

Rocky stood there, albeit more steady than ever, and his head was covered by a hat that made him look like anyone else. Lola stood for a moment, before proclaiming to him that this wasn’t like him at all.

“Rocky! You can’t scare me with that!” She teased him, trying to get anything out of the guy.

Nothing.

“Rocky?” She lowered her sarcastic tone, this time a concern spread across her face.

Again, Rocky stood absolutely still, without any noise and movement. 

Confused, she clasped the door handle and swung it open. There he still was, standing still with a coat and a hat that still covered his face up towards his mouth. She staggered, not used to seeing him in this sort of quietness before. Carefully, she catered to him and managed to walk him inside the house. He, reluctantly, staggered through the front door and down through towards the open space. Until now, she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him, maybe the job at hand was a bit too much and he had gone home. But she took another look at her hand and realized the crimson it held. It bled into her viewpoint, and she watched as Rocky took one more step before collapsing onto the floor, the bloody footprints and the impact he made on the floor suddenly shook her subconscious into question, as she paced towards Rocky and grabbed hold of him, whose face is now shown to her.

Her strength was close to being diminished, her eyes’ tears flooded a river and her mouth couldn’t utter any other words. Silence was her only friend as she tugged on him again. For the first time, his smile left him behind. His body felt colder and colder to touch, what he had to say soon also followed the plunge. His head slowly slumped backwards, and Lola felt that everything halted. His eyes were bloodshot, almost too much that she didn’t even recognize it. His face had blood pouring out of his forehead, a cut made by something extremely sharp. His face scrambled every word that fell out of his mouth, as he weakly addressed the lady of the household. 

“Lola- Ms Deluca!...” He coughed out, words mixed with spit and blood. “I’m– sorry…”

“What happened–?!” Lola reprised, her eyes searching up and down for any other wounds that left him in this state.

“I… was a little carr-ied away!” He flinched slightly, still jovially despite his life threatening situation.

“Carried away?! Rocky, you could have died!” She put her eyes away from him, and left to find a first aid kit that finally came in handy thanks to Rocky’s profession. She wrapped his head in the bandage, and sat him up on a nearby chair. Her worries were far from over, however, as she stood next to him to try and find an answer to why and how… he was like this.

“I.. am sorry.” He bore a frown, his eyes seemed to also disconnect from Lola. 

“Rocky, you do so much for so little!” Lola angrily told him, her eyes watering because of the shock from that entire experience. “Please, have some thoughts about some danger that you’re putting yourself through! For goodness’ sake, I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here!” 

Soon, an uncomfortable silence took up the room, with Rocky dumbfounded and Lola left overwhelmed by how Rocky acted outside in his job. The silence, briefly sliced by the mid afternoon commune and murmurs that echoed through the walls and throughout the entire afternoon towards the night time, they didn’t speak to each other. Not even through the meal that she had planned for the both of them, not even through the countless chores and homework they do together. Nothing got them talking to each other, yet the silence persisted.

Soon, as he finally got rid of his temporary headband, he was back at the entrance again. Lola narrowed her eyes, and pondered if she could have been too protective of him. Sure, he’d have days where he’d be like this 90% of the time, but it all seemed without care. Like an honest mistake. She didn’t seem to know how much trouble this man would go through for her, and maybe she’d be ignorant enough to overlook that side of him. 

Lola approached Rocky, sitting beside him as he put on his shoes. His eyes didn’t seem to catch her, not did it look away from his foot as he slipped on his shoes. She tugged at his jacket, her arms shook both what she had left in her sanity and his balance. As a result, he was dragged towards her ears and tearful eyes that he hadn't seen in a while. He murmured some words into his own head, and listened to what Lola had to say. 

“Promise me something, Rocky.” She said, a somber tone whispered across her voice.

He stared back at her, again silent because of the guilt that swept over him.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself. Promise me you’ll be more considerate of yourself out there. Promise me.” She continued, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as Rocky looked on with guilt.

“I… promise.” He said, swallowing his own words. 

She held him closer towards him. This time, they were face to face without any space between them. Reminiscent of their first meeting, and every meeting after that. She didn’t know whether to be glad he was still here with her or to be upset that he was left in this condition by the unending dangers of bootlegging. She held him, and her hands shook slightly as Rocky saw her well of tears surround his vision. She sobbed and weeped, silently as the night went on. 

“Promise you’ll never forget about me.” She remarked one last time, through her tears and choked voice.

“I promise, my dear. I can… only promise.” 

His words meant a lot more than what it is, and Lola knew it would be enough if it came from him.

[patronsaintofmath]

WHAT WOULD YOUR FUTURE HOUSE BE????

okok

so obviously my room w a king size bed adorned all nice w lace decorations or sheets ooh & like silk sheets maybe w silk pillowcases & i want my room to be like a beige color or to have some browns yknow & white. i want a nice big rug w like faux fur ooh i would have like wooden frames & i would frame like little things i find on my hikes or other trips or actually maybe all these fancy things can be for the living room bc i want glow in the dark stuff in my room maybe i can have two rooms no no pa’ que tanto ok sticking w original plan.

ok then i would have a room dedicated to mushrooms so what i mean by this is i would have a small area where i grow mushrooms bc they have to be in the right conditions w the right temperature & whatnot. i cannot have that now bc my room is not ideal & i have nowhere else to put them unfortunately. i can maybe put up plants in there too.

i would have a room just for my ball pit. i can have a tv in there ooo maybe it can be a game room ya i can have the switch & guitar hero set up in there ya ya & i can have big comfy couches. i can have pictures of all those who join me in that game room up. i can have line my toys, trinkets, lego sets, etc up for display in there yeah yeah & i can have glow in the dark stuff there

i would have like three bathrooms. one for myself which would be probabalt just a white bathroom maybe w beige color yknow so it can match w my room & then the other bathrooms would probably be like white & grey or white & lavender or white & pastel blue

i would have line two guest rooms. not sure how i would decorate those pero eso es lo de menos.

i’d have two fridges in the kitchen & a big kit ch en area. i would have a big living room w big brown leather couches & a fireplace.

i would have big backyard & a pool & i would have swings in the front yard. i would have maybe like cedar trees in my huge backyard & like a willow tree in the front yard. ooo i would have an orange tree & a lemon tree maybe in the back or in the front doesn’t matter but i want them there. actually maybe i would have them in the front that way anyone can get some oranges & lemons or limes. lime tree would be good.

thats all i can think of rn

[samkat10423]

13 Poker Flats - 2

So, here’s the rest of Amy/Yukee’s house. 

I did change the floor and wall finishes here. Where you see all that purple, I think EA did it with royal blue - which gave me the idea for this room. So, the basic bathroom stuff was done by EA, only in blue. I upgraded her interior doors and changed the tiles on the floor and that printed area on the tile walls. Plus, I gave her a rug, that towel thingie from one of the stuff packs, and a hamper for her clothes. And some windows, which I may change.

In her kitchen I pretty much changed everything. EA went with a puke green and orangey color-scheme and had those base-game cabinets. So, even though Yukee is still fixated on purple, it’s not as nauseating as what was there. I did leave the laundry stuff as EA had it, since Yukee can’t afford to buy new. Plus, she likes it, because they match the green stripe in her plaid wallpaper. 

And this is her lovely bedroom! I did change the railing for something more modern - EA had a white wrought iron one - And I gave her a new wallpaper, which is a gradient purple. (Hard to tell here). 

And this is the deck off her bedroom. I did add some more windows here and gave her some deck lights. Plus, I added that drainpipe and somewhere, I added that electrical box.

Other than Sofia Carlton, Amy is the only sim I have ever played in Twinbrook. When I opened this town for the very first time, I chose her on a whim. I think it was her lovely wardrobe choices that caught my eye! Anyway, there was a weird sound, and she went outside to investigate it. While I was trying to figure out what the frack was going on, KABAM! She got squished by a meteor! Laughed my a** off. She’s the only one of my sims to ever get hit by one. A few have had a couple close calls, but only poor Amy got squished. But it put me off this town for a while. 

[frogsandfries]

Out for snacks

Thinking about how I need headphones or, for me, preferably earbuds, if I'm going to be taking these long walks where I can barely see my phone.

Thinking about my cats, and about the new apartment. Thinking about getting this blood test out of the way. It feels like a total waste, but hey, maybe, perhaps, it'll reveal something--anything. This cycle was not a waste, this cycle was not a waste. We will have learned a lot about my hormones that will help the doctor advise me further.

Thinking about packing, and getting new stuff for the new apartment. I found this rug in a lovely color. Can't wait to get that for my work area. I found some gorgeous, seemingly at least semi-matching curtains. All I would need to bring the look together are some blankets to cover the couch.

I still want to get a water filter and water carbonator, the cube organizer and some cubes for my closet. Six to nine units, depending on how specific I want to get, and if I'm also storing "linens". What would it be like to sleep on linen sheets?

My puzzle is arriving in just a couple days! Too bad I can't really get into it till I'm done moving. Too bad I was just reminded yesterday that Monday is Memorial Day. So I won't be able to get a progress report until Tuesday 🙄🙄🙄. Geeeeeee at least I get a three-day, most likely unpaid, holiday.

My move-out basics shopping list feels like it's getting longer and longer--I need some kind of computer to help me with the printer, I need a water filter so I can stop wasting money buying canned sparking water. Diluting my juices and electrolyte drinks with soda water makes me more interested in hydrating. So eventually I need to get a carbonator. I want a rug for my work desk. I might need thermal curtains. There's probably stuff for the kitchen that I'm going to need.

[nei-ning]

I had long weird dream which has faded away mostly already.

In the dream I, first, went to some school. I either delivered there something or was looking for something. I helped some kids take off their outdoor clothes (jacket, shoes etc.) before female teacher came to get them, starting to lead them up on the stairs. However, the stairs leaded in this huge bright warm light which was surrounded with smaller colorful beams of lights. I smiled to myself, knowing they would be “safe in second level” as I thought in the dream.

I then came to my current area, deciding to go visit this old man and his wife in apartment number 4. From the outside the apartment looked the same, but when I stepped in, it was completely different. It was like from Finland’s past. The hallway was tiny room with old wooden, dark brown, walls with small ceiling light right above me. On the floor was tiny dirty rug, shoes, maybe some toys. I clearly remember this horribly bright yellow box at my feet. Old man was there too but he wasn’t the neighbor himself. Tho for a some reason I thought the was. I kindly and softly asked him how his wife was doing (because she has many health issues in real life, not being able to leave the house etc.). He just grunted and said something she’s on the couch and I should ask her, not bother her too long tho. I said I would do that. I entered the room and I instantly came in this old bedroom which was full of stuff and few big plants + dining table at the corner. I stood in the middle of the wall at the doorway. Right next to my left was small couch, full of old, used and broken blankets, pillows etc. On the couch sat young woman, dirty looking. Further away from her, near the left wall, was either small couch or 2 big chairs pushed together to make a bed. This old wife was curled on it, her back towards me. Her hair was dark gray, loose, long, dirty. Her shirt was broken and dirty, her long gray skirt too. She had either dark gray shoes or socks on as she pulled her legs closer to herself.

I approached her, stopping by the edge of her “bed”. I softly and kindly asked how she was doing. She did reply to me, but I don’t remember her words or voice anymore. I remember sighing softly, saying something like: “Well, that’s good to hear.” I tried to talk to her some more, to make sure she’s okay, but then I heard a voice to my right. There was another woman, a daughter. Middle aged. Dirty and angry. She was rude, telling me to stop talking to her mother. I did as I was told. Beside her, on my left from my view, was another woman. She may have been 20-25, She wasn’t as dirty as others, but she was silent but still she once said I should listen to her sister. I couldn’t help but to feel that either the father abused and controlled this whole family or then it was this bully daughter. I left the room, coming in the long hallway. Only now I realized how the house really was.

The house, from above view, was like 2 long hallways placed side by side, 3 doorways done by cutting doorshapes on the walls. One doorway in the middle and 1 at both ends. Left side was this one long hallway all of the sudden and right side held 3 rooms. At the lower part (from my point of view) was old kitchen, then was this weird livingroom / bedroom area) and the rest of the hallway was either full of junk, their bedrooms or empty space. In this hallway area I spotted now the real old man who I had come to visit. He sat on the couch which, again, was full of old blankets, pillows etc. I stood near him, asking him something. He replied with tiny voice, escorting me to do something. I don’t remember what. Then he just vanished.

Next I was in this half-awake / half-meditation state, sitting sideways on the couch. I knew my big sister, now, was behind me, ready to wake me up from this state. I don’t know where I actually was but... It was either past, future or another dimension. I know Mikey (can’t be sure which incarnation but I would bet 2003) was there but there also was this HUGE, gigantic thing (I will call it beast). I sadly don’t remember what it was but I saw him once from behind, clearly. Mikey either was controlled by it or was trying to fight against it. I managed to get far contact on Mikey with my mind, talking with him. As I spoke with him, I kept drawing him on the paper. I only saw his chest area from very close and he was wearing clothes which reminded me of Dennis the Menace. I feel annoyed I can’t remember our conversation. My sister was still behind me in “real life”, asking me am I seeing a nightmare as I mumbled something silently out loud during the conversation. I heard her, saying it’s not a nightmare. I said it’s - I can’t remember -. I was soon done with Mikey, standing near the cliff which was below bigger cliff, facing towatds the city further away. Now the beast arrived, flying past me. I yelled something after it so it landed. It was very muscular, his body looking so hard. Like if it was made of very dark emerald. It had that “diamond” kind of surface shine on it. He also was wearing green broken cape (unless they were his weird wings) which had colorful eyes on one line from shoulder to shoulder. I remember that the biggest eye was in the middle, orange-red in color.

Next I was chased by some people, secret soldiers perhaps. I don’t know why but I was able to fly in the air either by myself or with some gear’s help. I saw myself on a paper from above view, being able to draw black clouds and strong white winds behind me to stop the chacers. It was handy! I then ended up with my sister again and we came out from a train. Stores had Christmas decorations on their roofs. I especially liked one cute Santa who smiled eyes closed, bowed and shook his head slightly which made glitter rain down from his hat like a snow. I then noticed a flag had been lifted to the half of flagpole. A sign someone had died. I asked that from my sis and she told me a bomb had hit a pet store, killing all the pets in it. I got so shocked, thinking it was that city’s local pet store. Sis thenassured me it had been another pet store in some another country.

In the dream also was a part where my sister announced she will start to write poems in Japanese online to get much needed practice. She would use only about 3 words per line in her poems. There was this weird, golden, circular map what was being showed to me with some small signs. I couldn’t make out what they were since they were so tiny and the map was floating in the air too far from me.

[uniquetempo]

Micro Space

Many people, in the state I live in, either have a house or talk about wanting or getting a house.  Usually people who desire a house have a family under their care or they desire to have a family someday.  In my opinion, living alone in a house can get quite boring and sometimes can also get a bit scary; especially with all that space.

I, on the other hand, do not desire a house. Don't get me wrong, I had moments where I imagined buying a house with many rooms, a basement, and/or attic.

Each room with its own color scheme. The basement - an arcade paradise with all the dance game varieties. The reading room - filled with bookshelves and a side of mirrors. The toy room - large area rug in the middle surrounded by showcases. The tech room - filled with gadgets and computers with the latest updates to get my business started. Three bedrooms, two separate kitchens, and two separate living areas with separate entrances for business purposes.

As detailed as the house is, I do not desire it. I would've, if I had people that I kept around to share it with. Sadly though, I'm a runner.

I desire quite the opposite: micro-apartments. I would like to live somewhere at or below 100 sq ft. I have read such apartments or rooms exist in most major cities. In NYC, the price for such a spot may be $1,000 or more compared to other countries.

In the Summer/Fall of 2013, I temporarily lived, with my son, in a 'micro' apartment in San Diego, CA. The apartment is between 125 sq ft to 150 sq ft and the rent was $900/month. It was the perfect size for me, but it was quite the opposite for my son. We had to move, due to a family emergency. At this moment and time, these apartments are being rented for $1,377. Yikes!

I currently reside in a 900 sq ft, two-bedroom, apartment with my son and roommate. My son and I have the smallest of the two rooms and even that room feels too big for me. We have been living in this apartment for many years and to be honest, no matter how many times I change stuff around, it doesn't feel like home. I am only staying here for my son's sake.

In the past, I thought I needed more space - like my own room -because I don't have a space of my own. My space is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I even thought if my roommate moved out, this place would finally feel like home. I then realized that is not exactly the case.

After visiting NYC on my own, two times in the past two months, it occurred to me that I am definitely a fan of small spaces. The hotel-sized room of 229 sq ft to 362 sq ft was comfortable at first, but then it started feeling too spacious.

I remember curling myself up in the corner of the room, behind the ceiling to floor curtains, and looking down at the people outside. This made me feel more relaxed. It was like a little getaway section of the room; an escape from all the available empty space.

Someday I will live in a micro apartment.  I would actually live in one right now, if I could.  But, I do not live in a major city nor do I believe there is an apartment under 100 sq ft in my current area. 

Right now, I’ll just deal with the vast space in front of me and suffer just a while longer until I can find a place to call home.

[realtimejust]

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To view your project in 3D using plug-in standard VRML (Cortona3D Viewer, BS Contact, etc.). Like other CAD applications Room Arranger can print created by the project at any scale. The site has exact dimensions for every dorm room (by room number) at a handful of schools including USC, University of Pennsylvania, UCLA and U of A, and general floor plans at almost every other school in the US. The program has a handy option for publishing interactive drawings and "movement" of the project in 3D.To fill the rooms you will be able to take a ready-made model with any size of library, you can create your model and create a library of the models that are used most frequently. The program laid the standard sizes of cabinets, appliances, lamps, sockets, switches, etc.

Dorm room arranger online professional#

Set the size of rooms and furniture, wall thickness, and then simply arrange the all the places. Plan Your Room Design Online Step 1: Draw the Floor Plan Step 2: Add Fixtures and Furniture Step 3: Generate Professional Floor Plans Step 4: See Your Room. Transfer of the furniture in the apartment is done by clicking the mouse.

Dorm room arranger online free#

The program has a rich library interior, moreover you will be able to take advantage of additional free library of images of objects, visit the official website of the program.

C Room Arranger can create and edit any interior elements, move them, rotate, change color and size.

What NOT to Bring to College: All the things you really DON’T need to bring to college (despite what you may hear.

15 Essential Tips for College Move-in Day: Take the stress out of college move-in day and be prepared with all of these tips!.

No matter what your project entails, these tools will make space planning a breeze. We offer magnetic interior design kits for kitchens, bathrooms, living spaces, bedrooms, and more.

Where to Buy Dorm Stuff: All my favorite places to shop for your college dorm, including online and in-person stores. Our room planning tools include enough pieces to allow for substantial customization and they’re extremely easy to use.

Thankfully, you can make the process infinitel. Start a Room Plan Online Room Planner - Design Your Room is a wonderful website to. Dorm rooms can be quite tricky to organize since they’re often very small and usually contain multiple people.

7 Dorm Cleaning Supplies Every Student Needs Ciaras dorm room makeover beyond the riches.

Keep your dorm room the cleanest on campus with these tips!

7 Dorm Desk Essentials to Keep You Organized.

11 Dorm Bedding Essentials You Need for College.

A dorm room with a soft glow (think string lights and a well-placed floor lamp) well give your room an instantly relaxing vibe. One of the most recommended dorms for University of Florida students.

10 Dorm Room Organization Essentials You Need If you’ve ever tried to take the perfect selfie, you know how important lighting is.

23 Dorm Room Essentials That Will Save Your Life.

Be sure to grab the downloadable version above if you want to print out the checklist!įor more tips and advice about moving into a college dorm for the first time, you may be interested in the following posts. Here’s the written version of the packing list, with links to some of my personal favorite items that I recommend. This is the most thorough college dorm checklist out there that contains EVERYTHING you need to bring when moving to college.

Dorm room arranger online download#

> CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE FREE PRINTABLE PACKING LIST. Or go simple and give your dorm room some life with an area rug. Find chairs, bedside tables and more for your dorm room or college apartment at IKEA. Packing for college can definitely be a little overwhelming, but this checklist will take the stress out of it!ĭownload the Ultimate College Packing List If yes, it is possible that you have enough room for a dorm futon for friends to crash on. This is the ultimate packing checklist I wish I would have had when I moved into my college dorm as a freshman. I created this FREE three-page printable college dorm checklist to help simplify the college packing process for you! Looking for the ultimate printable college dorm checklist? Explore unique collections and all the features of advanced, free and easy-to-use home design tool Planner 5D Get ideas Upload a plan Design school Design battle NEW Use Cases. I may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you if you make a purchase through my affiliate link. Note: Affiliate links may be used in this post.

[imaybeabear]

Ok so I just watched Encanto today and I am iN LOVE WITH THIS MOVIE OH MY GOD

I have so so many thoughts but the one that will just will not leave me alone is the difference between Bruno's rooms.

Ok, so his "power room" is cold looking and barren, and even though all the rooms presumably are bigger on the inside, any place for him to sleep and live are all deep in the room up a ridiculous amount of stairs and behind a literal barrier (the sand curtain) so anyone who wants to visit has to really want to get to him. The rock is rough, the light harsh, creating areas that feel almost too illuminated and deep, sharp shadows. Additionally, there's next to no decoration and most of what there is seems to be related to his powers. Nothing in there feels truly alive with no color; no plants, no rugs, no art, just sand. Maybe he had more stuff that he took with him into the walls, but the distance and the bare, cold starkness of the rock is still there:

In contrast, the room that he built for himself is so much softer and, though it's small and a bit claustrophobic, it is full of color and knickknacks and the rats and books. He has dishes that a brightly patterned and his bright red chair and the little structures he built for the rats. It's cluttered and warm and a bit messy and full of personality and, most importantly, though it is separated from the rest of the house by walls, it is, essentially, right in the middle of the house. It is right near the kitchen which many people consider the heart of the home and literally beside the dining room where the whole family (save him) go to gather together.

(Sorry I couldn't find more pictures:/)

Anyway, I just think it is so important, the difference between the room that was assigned to him and the one he built- between the life he was pushed into and then out of and the existence, while not ideal, that he managed to create for himself.

There's also something to be said about both him and Mirabel having smaller rooms that they had to decorate/put together themselves as opposed to the prepackaged rooms that everyone else was assigned, and the importance of personal choice and taste when it comes to living spaces and I am also deeply emotional about that, but it is so late here and I have to sleep now

[whentherewerebicycles]

I am trying to develop an aesthetic that is my own and not my half-hearted attempts to reproduce my mother’s (which is very nice just not my style or personality at all). in order to do this I am trying to pay close attention to things that make me gasp aloud with joy or delight when I see them. then I’m trying to look for the connecting threads! the framework that could hold it all together!

here is the list so far:

a bathroom painted in the color living coral

my Mediterranean villa shower curtain

that gold squirrel lamp from world market I almost rescued from the side of the road but lost to a teenager

my large painting of a cockatiel from target

every shade of the color teal from very light to the darkest, most saturated blue-green teal

everything about this image which I think is of a hotel exterior in Morocco? I love the colors I love the texture of the walls I love how weather-worn the furniture looks

this derpy tiger rug I just bought on super sale over labor day

that flamingo wallpaper but specifically the idea of putting it secretly inside of my cabinets so when you open them you experience a little jolt of surprise and delight

very colorful patterned tile—the kinds you think of when you think of Greek, Moroccan, Spanish, Mexican kitchens or tiled areas. I love the blue and white patterned tile I associate with the Greek islands but I also adore talavera tile of all kinds and colors

I love colorful unusual dishware and especially mugs! I kinda especially love it when stuff doesn’t match but each dish or mug has something interesting and wonderful about it or has a story behind it

this print which I just bought today (although I found a cheaper large poster version of it). I think I just really like things that either have character or have characters in them—like every time I see My Guy (my cockatiel) I feel that jolt of delight because he’s such a character in my mind now. this ghost makes me feel the same thing. I can tell he will become a character in my life with a distinct temperament and I’ll think about his inner life in passing every time I see him in the hallway or wherever.

I also really like an aesthetic that is kind of like… folk art-ish? like visually I love the style of Eastern European folk art forms—color, pattern, the way the objects or patterns can be intricate and beautifully crafted but don’t feel perfectly polished. hmm will think more about how to describe this. I think I especially like forms of folk art or handicrafts that feel like they were made by moderately talented amateurs? like I have this framed piece of needlepoint I found at goodwill that someone made for a friend in the ‘70s (she stitched the date onto it) and I love it so much because 1) it feels like there’s a story behind it and I love to think about the characters involved and 2) it’s a work of amateur art, lovingly made, that now belongs to me and lives in my home. I also like that some of the things I like are other people’s junk!

and I like things my friends have sent me I decorate very liberally with the cards, art, etc I receive in the mail from friends

I also like things that feel like there could only be one of them or like there’s only one left! like I’ve seen my Target bird in other places since but I think 70% of the magic for me was coming around the corner and seeing him there, the only piece of art in an otherwise totally picked over section. just, again, that jolt of surprise and delight! the serendipity of the unexpected encounter. it’s very joyful to me and then the object seems forever suffused with that initial spark of joy for me so I relive it a little each time I greet it anew

plants!! green things I love green things. I love green things and terracotta especially.

hmmm this is revealing some interesting things I want to keep thinking about this!!!

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Sukuna pt3

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life! I never thought youtuber sukuna would be so popular, so thank you everyone for giving me encouragement to continue this lil series. This will be the final part, but who’s to say we can’t have an OVA episode?? I smell a beach episode...or maybe a trip to an onsen? Who knows!

Part one --- part two

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It certainly felt like it. Scrolling on Pinterest was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was something he openly mocked in the past, but now per your advice, he was looking at thousands of photos of home decor.

Sukuna was hesitant to admit to you that he had no furniture in his home. After seeing how well decorated and lived in your home was, it only made his shame increase at being a grown man with foldable furniture. But you took it in stride and offered to help, even making him share a Pinterest board with you so the two of you could get inspiration for a shopping trip.

That’s how he found himself at IKEA on a bright and early Saturday morning. You’d begged him to let you come shopping with him, and Sukuna was a man unable to refuse any request you made of him.

“Ah, this is going to be so exciting!” You shouted, nearly running to the carts at the front of the store. You were clearly more excited than he was, your energy seemed to know no bounds as you bounced on your heels and waited for him to trudge to the front door.

“What’s so exciting about furniture?” He grumbled, subconsciously taking the cart from your hands. Pushing into the store, Sukuna felt like he had been transported to another world. With staged living quarters that looked more real than his own home, he was at a loss for words.

“Sukuna, c’mere!” You were already ten paces ahead, standing at the entrance to one said fake home. Coming upon it, Sukuna nearly gagged at the color palette. There were bright orange tufted couches with a blue area rug and more pillows than he had owned his whole life. With white accents and gunmetal colored lamps, it looked far too much for him.

“It’s ugly.” He said, not caring about the other people around you that seemed to enjoy it.

“Really?” Taking another look around, you shrugged your shoulders and took a step back. “You’re right, it doesn’t really fit your whole vibe.”

That was definitely correct. If Sukuna had to give a name to his personal style it would be ‘who the fuck cares as long as it works’. He wasn’t one to dwell on his looks for too long, just content grabbing clothes that were easily accessible and trendy, ones that he knew would help him fit in. And that habit had bled into his furniture choice as well.

“Okay, you seemed to pin a lot of pictures that look like this-” Leaning over, he watched you scroll past picture after picture of what almost looked like the same thing, a living room with dark colored couches, a white rug and dark colored walls, almost always with a metal or dark wooden coffee table.

“Yeah, it fits me.” Wandering through the store, Sukuna glanced at an all white room with a window frame encasing a faux view of a city lit up at night. “None of this shit.” He made a vague gesture to the room, and the one following it that looked similar.

“You don’t want any bright colors at all?”

“My hair’s already pink, what more do you want?” That made you snort and giggle, and in turn made Sukuna smile.

“Okay but you can’t just have all black furniture, it’ll make your house feel like a dungeon.” Your hand came to rest on the handle of the shopping cart, dangerously close to laying on top of his. “Promise we’ll get at least a little color today? Maybe a yellow, or a pink to match your hair.”

“S-sure.” Sukuna couldn’t look at anything except for your hand. Your pinky finger was just barely touching his, almost enough that Sukuna could slide his hand under yours and interlace your fingers together.

“Ooh, what about this for your bedroom?” And just like that, you were gone. Dashing off to a display on the wall for bed sheets. “You said you only have a plain white one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this? This design is really trendy right now.” You were pointing to one that was a deep navy, white grid lines crossing over to make big squares.

“I like it.”

“Awesome! Now, do you have a queen or a king bed?”

After picking out the bed sheets, Sukuna slowly opened up more to the idea of shopping. He was able to recognize pieces he’d seen on Pinterest, picking them out as things he readily liked and would enjoy looking at in his house. He was even persuaded to get a few area rugs for different places in his house, and before he knew it you had piled the basket high with things.

“Ah, today was so much fun!” You sang, bouncing in your seat on the way home from IKEA.

“Now I just need to build all this shit.” Sukuna was amazed at how much you’d convinced him to buy. He had new furniture for his bedroom, a new couch was going to be delivered, a dining table and chairs and even a new desk and chair for his office setup in the corner of his living room.

“Lemme help!” You looked far too eager to help him build, and although Sukuna wanted to tell you no - he really didn’t want you to see how he was currently living - he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his house with him, working together on something.

“Alright. Let’s stop somewhere and get food though, I’m hungry.”

One quick fast food meal that Sukuna loathed later, you were carrying things up to his apartment. He refused to let you carry the heavy things even if he could really use the help with some of the oblong boxes. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you carried the small things.

When everything was inside the house, Sukuna watched your reaction to his place. You hadn’t made a sound when you first arrived, you were probably too busy trying to bring everything in from his car.

“Sukuna…” Scanning his apartment, your eyes landed on his abysmal furniture.

“Yeah?” He screwed his eyes shut, dreading what you had to say.

“This is totally what I expected from you.” You laughed, unpacking some of the fake plants you made him buy. “It totally fits you.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Sukuna grabbed one of the boxes containing his new desk.

“Let’s get started.”

If Sukuna thought cooking with you was hard, building furniture with you was the final boss level. He had you read the instructions while he laid all the pieces out, and when you let out a whine at how many steps there were, Sukuna could have died happily right then and there.

It was easy to build the furniture he bought, but it wasn’t easy to work with you. There was no problem with your actual work, but the fact that Sukuna had to be so close to you at times, nearly hugging you when he had to hold up a piece for you to put a few screws in, it was too much to handle.

He quickly banished you to work on another project. It was your fault he kept getting distracted and forgetting what step he was on, so the only solution was to work on separate things. Plus, watching you flit around his house, hearing you change the bed sheets and lay down a new mat in the bathroom made him feel like you were newlyweds decorating your first home together.

“It looks so good in here!” It was well past dark when you finished everything. It truly did look like a brand new space, and not just in the living room. The touches you’d added, with bright pillows, fake plants and some actual art on the walls, made Sukuna happy to be home. His place finally felt like a home and not just somewhere to crash at the end of the day.

“You did a great job picking shit out, I woulda never been able to do all this.” Putting his arm around your shoulder, he gave you a squeeze.

“Are you gonna do a house tour when the couch and table come?” A house tour? Why would he do that? Knitting his brows together, Sukuna sent you a look. “C’mon, you know what a house tour is! All the popular Youtubers do them.” You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. “And aren’t you a popular Youtuber?”

“I-” Well, you had him beat there. His subscriber count was well into the millions at this point. “Okay, I’ll do one when the rest of the stuff comes.”

“Yes!” Bouncing up and down in joy, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll help you film, I know how bad you are at angles.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better!”

In a week, you were back at his place, more excited than him to film this video. You’d helped prepare a little script should he need it, and you were fluffing all the pillows so they looked nice on camera.

“Let’s have an entryway shot, those always look so cool!”

“Whatever you say.” Sukuna was merely a puppet on your strings, maneuvering however you saw fit. He made his hands as steady as possible getting b-roll shots of everything in advance.

“If you forget what to say, remember I made a script!” With that final warning, you were standing at the entrance to his apartment and waving your hand. “Okay, start!”

“Hi people on the internet. This is my house tour that (Y/N) is making me do.”

“Shut up!” You laughed behind the camera, trying not to shake it.

“This is my kitchen and dining room, (Y/N) picked out the table and chairs for me.” Doing a sweep over the kitchen, he transitioned to the living room. “And this is the lounge room, where (Y/N) picked out the couch and rug, and my desk stuff over there.”

“Yeah, Sukuna had no rugs in his apartment before!”

“Mhmm.” Somehow Sukuna managed to not stumble over his words, easily recalling parts of the script you had written for him. Highlighting the fake plants and cheap art on the walls, the two of you stood in the bathroom together.

“Look, it’s us!” You waved to the camera in the mirror, nudging your shoulder with Sukuna. Suddenly, the image of getting ready in the morning with you or winding down after a long day together in the bath flashed before Sukunas eyes. What would it be like to come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and join you? Give you a shoulder massage under the hot running water, or to brush his teeth and tell you to hurry up and not waste water.

“And this is the bedroom.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, Sukuna hid his blush with his hand as he entered the room.

“Hold this.” Shoving the camera in his hands, you leapt onto the bed. “This is where I sleep!” Your laugh was easy and you rolled around his bed a few times, simply having fun wrinkling the sheets.

“Uh- w-wha-” Sukuna nearly dropped the camera in shock. Seeing you in his bed, even if it was just on top of the sheets fully clothed, made his heart stop. Gripping the camera hard in his suddenly sweaty hands, Sukuna nearly tossed it to the side and joined you.

“Just kidding!” You were already climbing out of bed as soon as that thought entered his head. “But isn’t this room pretty? I picked out most of the stuff in here too.” Just like that you were back to normal, talking about some random print on the wall that he’d ordered per your suggestion.

Needless to say, Sukuna had a hard time falling asleep that night, the image of you in his bed burned into his mind like it was the only thought he’d ever have again. His imagination was going wild, and he tossed and turned all night - even after relieving some tension.

With his new desk setup, Sukuna felt motivated to edit the video as fast as he could. What you said about improving his living quarters was true; now that his place looked nice, he felt nice in turn. He even left in the part where you jumped on his bed, adding a funny break in the video like you’d shown him.

‘IT’S CONFIRMED. IT’S CONFIRMED. THEY’RE DATING’

‘sirpohdjb my ship has sailed!!’

‘I come here to see why sukunax(Y/N) is trending and it’s this bullshit?? Y’all need to get a life’

Sukuna often felt like a fool when he was with you, and sometime after as well. Even from the first comment he left on your Instagram, he knew people shipped you together and wanted you to date. He felt embarrassed more times than not, but it seemed he never learned his lesson. That scene of you on his bed had gone viral and he regretted leaving it in.

But could you blame him? You made his head spin, most of the time leaving him incapable of doing anything else beside standing in his place looking stupid. It was hard to edit the videos you did together because reliving the footage made him dizzy all over again.

(Y/N): SUKUNA. ANSWER ME ITS URGENT

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and Sukuna had nothing better to do than laze around and do nothing. Except now, he was texting you back with his heart suddenly pounding.

Sukuna: what?! Is something wrong where are you??

So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he had started to shake.

(Y/N): I just got a great idea, I need to know if you’ll do a video with me!

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sukuna said out loud, staring at his phone in disbelief. This is what was so urgent? Nearly sending him into an early grave for a possible video?

Sukuna: what the fuck I thought it was serious

Sukuna: I thought you were in trouble

He wasn’t upset per say, but Sukuna was definitely annoyed.

(Y/N): sorry :( i didn’t mean to scare you

Sukuna: you did more than scare me

(Y/N): I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!

Now Sukuna felt bad and it wasn’t even his fault. In all the time you’d known each other, you never had a negative interaction. He waited five minutes for you to text something, but you didn’t and it was making him anxious all over again.

Sukuna: well tell me what the idea is

(Y/N): no, it’s okay it was a stupid idea anyway

It took you another five minutes to respond, and your answer made Sukuna groan.

Sukuna: you got me all worked up and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?

He had to rectify the situation somehow.

(Y/N): I just thought...of maybe doing your makeup for a video?

Sukuna: what

(Y/N): I told you it was stupid! Just forget it

Sukuna: shut up it’s not stupid

As typing bubbles appeared and then disappeared, Sukuna could just imagine the way your cheeks puffed out indignantly.

(Y/N): here’s a link to someone else who did it with her boyfriend, they had so much fun together!

(Y/N): let me know if you wanna do it, I think it could be a lot of fun…

Sukuna only needed to look at the thumbnail to know he would say yes. The two people on the screen were very close, with the girl nearly touching her boyfriend's face with her own. They had big smiles on their faces as well, and that enticed him more.

Sukuna: I’ll do it

(Y/N): really?? That’s awesome! Come over to my place on Friday, we’ll order pizza and make a day of it!

And that’s how Sukuna found himself in your filming room, stomach full of pizza with a disgustingly cute green frog headband keeping his hair back. He’d seen this room a hundred times in the backgrounds of your videos, but now he was actually here. There were even more plushies than appeared on camera and you had a humidifier going in the corner.

“Okay now stay still, I’m going to wipe a toner on your face.” He had no idea what that meant, watching you with curious eyes pick up a bottle from the table in front of you and dab the liquid onto a cotton pad. “Usually I use my hands to apply toner, but we wanna wipe the dust off.”

With a gentle hand, you held Sukuna by the chin and swiped the cotton across his face, it’s soft chemical scent wafting into his nose. It felt nice, having you apply toner and moisturizer on his face. The most he ever applied was sunscreen, but maybe he could convince you to do his skincare for him every day.

“So today, I chose this makeup look by Beyoncés makeup artist! It’s a really popular style called ‘soft glam’.” Sukuna nodded along with you like he understood what you meant, taking a glance at the picture on your phone before you showed it to the camera. “I think Sukuna would really fit this kind of look, he is a natural beauty afterall.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, a light flush heating his cheeks.

“It’s true! There’s so many comments under your house tour video saying how good you look with the new furniture.” You spoke about the new makeup you bought for the video as you applied the products. Sukuna tried to keep up with what you were doing and saying, but he couldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation about makeup.

“Tuck your lips in so you don’t get foundation in your mouth.”

“What?” He jerked away right as you lifted the small dish you had with what he assumed was foundation.

“I don’t think you want to eat makeup, do you?” You chuckled and pat him on the cheek. “Tuck your lips in.” Doing as you asked, Sukuna flinched when you gripped the back of his head. “Try not to move too much, I want it to be even.”

As you applied the foundation and subsequently the concealer and powder, Sukuna barely moved. In fact, he barely breathed. You had leaned in far closer than you’ve ever been to him, your breath lightly fanning over his face as you worked to smooth everything out.

The hand on the back of his head dipped down to rest at the base of his neck, your body coming to lean more onto him as time went by. You were speaking, Sukuna could hear it, but he wasn’t responding. The excuse was he didn’t want to mess you up, but in truth he couldn’t find any words to say.

“Look at you!” Holding up a mirror for him, you laughed at his shocked face. “How do you like it?”

“I look so flat.” Turning his head side to side, Sukuna lifted a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Snatching his hand away, you held it tightly in your grasp. Sukuna was thankful for the layer of makeup he had on now, no one could see his blush.

“What’s next? This eyeshadow shit?” He picked up a product on a whim, opening it up and staring at it. “Why’s there only two colors? Why are both of them brown?”

“That’s contour, we’ll get to that! This is the eyeshadow!”

Putting eyeshadow on Sukuna was harder than both of you thought. Not used to the feeling of the brush, he twitched every time it was swiped across his eyelid. Through plenty of trial and error, and many times of you telling him to just take a deep breath, you got through it.

“I’m gonna have to cut out so much of you flinching.” You teased, checking the camera to make sure everything was still working.

“I don’t get how you can do this shit, it’s fucking awful.” All Sukuna wanted to do was rub his eyes and face until his skin went raw.

“We aren’t even at the worst part yet: eyeliner.” Taking a seat, you lifted up a simple black pen.

“Oh god.” Hanging his head, Sukuna said a quick prayer for his eyes before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Sukuna, I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” Cracking an eye open, you were looking at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I...I need to sit in your lap to do eyeliner.” Sukuna audibly and quite loudly gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “When I help my friends with eyeliner I sit in their laps! It’s just easier that way!”

“I-I uhm- okay?” He eventually forced the word out, copying your movements and turning his chair to face yours. “What uh- what should I…?”

“Sit still.” Pulling your chair flush with his, you pushed Sukuna’s legs closed and scooted up his thighs until your butt was firmly seated on him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you uncapped the eyeliner. “There, now I can get started.”

Sukuna was in so much shock, he didn’t move. Even when the eyeliner tickled the inner corner of his eye, even when you moved his hands to rest near your lower back so you wouldn’t slide off, even when you did the bottom lashline, he was frozen.

If this is what heaven looked like for him, he would gladly take it and never leave. Your face was so close, he could feel it even when his eyes were closed. The soft skin of your hand held his powdered cheek gently, keeping yourself steady as you drew the lines on his eyes.

“All done.” You whispered. Sukuna opened his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat; your face was close enough that if he tried to focus too hard he’d go cross eyed. You weren’t paying attention to his reaction at all, too focused on making sure his eyes were even.

The rest of the time went by in a blur. You’d slid off his lap after that, diving right into putting more powders on his cheeks. Swiping thick gloss on his lips is what drew him out of his stupor and into another one as you once again held his chin, swiping the corner of his mouth with your thumb when you were done.

“Sukuna, you look so good!” You said with a slight whine, showing all angles of his face off to the camera before showing him. “You have to promise when you get rich and famous and become a global celebrity that you won’t forget about me.”

“Shut up, you know I won’t.” He said with a smirk, swiping the mirror from you. “(Y/N)...I look fucking hot.” Bursting into laughter, you wiped imaginary sweat off your brow.

“Well I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it!” Patting him on the back, you got up to stretch and check the camera one last time.

“Would you fuck me, ‘cause I’d fuck me.” Sukuna said to himself, striking a few poses in the mirror and for the camera. “Hey, you watching this video you better fucking share this with all your friends. Everyone needs to see how hot I am.”

“We should have ordered you some clothes, turned you into an Instagram baddie!” You teased from behind the camera.

“Please, I don’t need fancy clothes when I’m this sexy.” Running a hand through his hair, Sukuna pointed the mirror at you. “Be honest (Y/N), you wanna date me right now. I look so hot, I bet I’m gonna have thousands of DM’s.” Sukuna’s confidence was the highest it's ever been around you. For some reason, the makeup gave him more assurance.

“Well let me know when to schedule a date with you then, I’d love to grab dinner sometime.”

“I’ll have my assistant pencil you in.” He joked, looking back at himself in the mirror. Sitting back down, you ended the video and made Sukuna wave to the camera. Not turning off the lights you used to film, you made him snap several pictures with you.

“This video was so much fun, Sukuna, thank you!” Rocking back and forth in your seat, you had a demure look while you fiddled with your phone. “And I wasn’t joking about dinner. I really like you, Sukuna.” That made Sukuna stop in his tracks, nearly throwing the mirror down in shock as he turned to look at you.

“Huh?!”

“I-I mean- I mean I like hanging out with you!” Obviously embarrassed, you leaped from your seat and began turning the filming lights off, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Both yours and Sukunas faces were burning with embarrassment, awkwardly not looking at each other.

“(Y/N)...” Sukuna half stood from his chair, forcing himself to move despite how awkward he felt. “I-”

“Let’s wash off that makeup now, I bet it’s uncomfortable.” Keeping your eyes trained on the floor, you went to the door. “I’ll show you what to use in the bathroom.”

The tension in the air was thick after that, and it remained that way for a few days after. Sukuna knew what he heard, he saw how your face looked as you said you liked him, he could hear the sincerity in your voice. But it obviously wasn’t something you were ready to say, as evident as you not texting him as much as you usually did.

When the video went up, Sukuna immediately felt butterflies in his stomach all over again watching it. Reminded of how close you were to him made him ache to have you near him, and seeing you sitting on his lap had another feeling rising in his stomach, warming him up in an embarrassing way.

He patrolled the comments as usual, but there were no mean ones that he could yell at. All of them were screaming about how the video just confirms that the two of you are dating, and surprisingly they weren’t calling out him for looking like he was in love with you.

The comments teased you this time, keen longtime viewers of yours pointing out specific timestamps where you looked embarrassed or looked like you wanted to kiss him. Sukuna checked out every single one, liking the comment for showing him that what you said earlier wasn’t a mistake.

Ever since that day, it seemed like you were promoting on Instagram and Twitter a lot more. Sukuna already had notifications turned on for all your socials and there was a definite uptick in your content posted to those platforms.

There were more sponsored posts and polls posted asking your followers for style advice, and which beauty items they preferred more. Sukuna was happy to see you got an increase in brand deals from the video you did together, a video that had now easily reached five million views and counting. He congratulated you whenever he saw a sponsored post, sending you cute little emojis along with the praise.

All week you had been hinting that there was a big announcement coming, a major event in your life that you were so excited to share with everyone. Sukuna, along with all your other followers, ate up all the crumbs you left throughout the week. Many suspected you were going to go work for a designer label, while others assumed you’d announce a sudden marriage.

(Y/N): Sukuna, check Instagram!

You texted him in the evening on Friday, but he didn’t need the update. He was already on your page when the post was dropped, waiting impatiently for the picture to load.

“A TV show, huh?” As he read the promo photo, he smiled. Appearing on a TV show was a big opportunity for you, one that was sure to lead to many more. Your role wasn’t stated in the photo, but your promo picture was a professional one no doubt taken at a studio.

“Wait, what?” When Sukuna got to the caption, he took a pause. Why were you going on a dating show? He read the words over and over, hoping for a different outcome each time. But there was no denying you’d be going on a dating show.

Checking out the show's page, Sukuna let out a groan. All the male contestants were hot and not even he could deny it. Some had muscles like he did, others were more unconventionally attractive.

Sukuna: you’re going on a dating show?

It took him a while to text you back. In fact, it took nearly thirty minutes for him to text you. Sukuna had gone through all five stages of grief several times, coming back to being in denial over and over again.

Dragging his feet to his kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine that one of his rich clients at the gym gifted him. Popping the cork, he collapsed onto his couch and took a long drink from the bottle.

(Y/N): yeah, I’m super nervous!

Sukuna: I bet

Oh, did he fucking bet. He’d gone through all the male contestants' Instagram pages, trying to talk them down in an attempt to lessen the blow that he could potentially lose you to one of them. Why did he have to wait so long to confess to you? Now the chance was gone, possibly forever.

(Y/N): what do you think about the show? I was kind of scared to take the deal

You didn’t want to know how he really felt.

Sukuna: it’s a great opportunity, great for exposure and it’s a lot of money

(Y/N): that’s true!! I’ll have to treat you to dinner with my first TV check!

Just great, a chance for you to gush about whoever you met on the dating show. Taking another long drink from the bottle, Sukuna crumpled even more into his couch. Back were the stages of grief, each emotion washing over him until he mustered up the courage to do something about it.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, confused as to why Sukuna called you instead of replying to your messages.

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name firmly, honing in on a spot in the ceiling. Swallowing around a growing lump in his throat, Sukuna forced the next words out. “I like you. I-I really, really like you.”

“What?” He could hear you gasp over the phone.

“I know, what kind of asshole confesses to you when you’re about to go on a TV dating show?” He chuckled, taking a deep breath. “But it’s true. I wanna be your boyfriend, (Y/N). I know it’s too late to back out of the show but-”

“Sukuna-”

“No, let me say this. I know it’s too late to back out, and-”

“Sukuna!”

“And I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone better suited-”

“Sukuna!”

“Better suited for you than me. I’m just a dumb, muscled up chump that-”

“Sukuna I’m a stylist, not a contestant!” You were finally able to get a word in, face flushed from the sudden onslaught of emotions going through you. Sukuna was silent on the other end, mouth hanging open as he processed the words.

“Y-you’re a...a stylist? So you won’t be dating any of them?” He whispered after a few moments, the shock starting to wear off and being replaced with humiliation.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the styling team.” Your voice also dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words beginning to settle down on the both of you.

“Oh god.” Putting the bottle down, Sukuna slapped himself in the forehead. He had never felt like a bigger idiot than in this moment. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, just- just forget it.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to forget it. I...I want you to be my boyfriend too, Sukuna.” There was a pregnant pause, and you could practically hear Sukuna’s brain working overdrive.

“Let’s go out on a date!” He shouted, pushing himself off the couch and to a shaky stand. “I’m free whenever, let’s go on a date!” The alcohol was definitely affecting him more than he first thought, and Sukuna fell back down onto the couch.

“Really? Okay, how about tomorrow? That’s like the only day with good weather for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Sleeping restlessly through the night, Sukuna woke up way earlier than his alarm. Taking an obscene amount of time getting ready, he was still early to your house. Taking a lap around the block, he went to a flower shop and bought you a handful of flowers.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, almost meek as you entered his car.

“Hey. I got you these.” Handing you the flowers, Sukuna bit his lip nervously.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Gently hugging them to your chest, your nerves began to melt away and you smiled, making Sukuna smile as well.

Sukuna once again had you pick the cafe you were going to. This one was in a bustling downtown street, not in the middle of the countryside, and as you two walked down the street there were couples passing you left and right.

Snagging an outdoor seat, Sukuna went inside to order for you. This cafe, unlike the last, actually served coffee and Sukuna was quick to get a large cup of it. Buying a few croissants cutely decorated with various creams, he went back outside.

“Say, you’re really cute, why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?” An unknown man was standing near your table, and Sukuna caught the tail end of his sentence.

“N-no, I’m good.” Your eyes were glued to your lap, obviously uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving.

“Aw, really? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be all alone!” The man had a sleazy grin on his face, visibly eyeing you up in a salacious manner. “My name is-”

“Baby, who’s this guy?” Sukuna had had enough. Stepping right up to the table, he nearly slammed the tray in his hands down on the table. Your head shot up, relief flashing across your face.

“Who are you?” The man scoffed, curling his lip in disgust.

“I’m their boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Puffing up his chest a little bit, Sukuna stared the man down.

“Boyfriend? They didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend.” The man attempted to look at you again, but Sukuna beat him to it and caught your eye instead.

“Geez baby, I know we had that fight before we came but I’m hurt! If I get rid of this creep, will you call me your boyfriend again?” Laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, Sukuna gave it a squeeze.

“Y-you’re always gonna be my boyfriend, dummy.”

“That just warms my heart!” Sighing loudly, Sukuna gave the man a not so subtle push away from the table. “Well, you heard ‘em. Get lost, you worthless sack of shit.” Grumbling, the man walked away and Sukuna took his rightful seat next to you.

“Thank you.” Immediately, you latched onto him, squeezing his arm in a tight hug as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Wrapping you up more tightly in a hug, Sukuna pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I would have beat him up if you wanted. Men are fucking disgusting.”

“Sukuna, you are a man.” You laughed lightly.

“Exactly my point.” Rubbing a hand on your back, Sukuna picked up one of the croissants. “I hope you like these because I can already tell it’ll be too sweet for me.” You laughed again and sat up, keeping your face close to his.

“I have something sweet for you too, I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” Quirking a brow, Sukuna jumped when you planted your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long and the taste of your lip balm and feel of your lips was permanently engraved into Sukunas brain.

“There.” Your cheeks were absolutely on fire, shame rolling off of you in waves at having your first kiss in a crowded cafe on a busy day in the city. It wasn’t even a particularly romantic setting, but something spurred you to do it.

“W-what the hell! You can’t just do that!” Sukuna gasped, his own cheeks burning a deep, scalding red. “You gotta warn a guy first!” His dramatics were drawing attention from the other patrons, making the situation even worse.

“Sshh, you’re being too loud!”

“Like I care! Kiss me again, I’m ready this time!” Grabbing you by the shoulders, Sukuna tried to kiss you.

“W-wait, there’s people watching!”

“I don’t give a fuck who’s watching!” Grabbing your chin, Sukuna kissed you much firmer than when you kissed him. It lasted longer as well, bordering on too long for what is accepted in public. “There.” Pulling away slightly out of breath, Sukuna sat back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re so embarrassing.” You whined, hiding your face in your hands and hitting Sukuna with your head.

“All I’m hearing is how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“No you’re not.” You countered, getting wrapped in a side hug by Sukuna.

“It’s debatable.” Picking up the croissant he dropped, Sukuna took a bite. “Hm, this is sweet but not as sweet as that kiss you gave me.”

“Sukuna!”

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

i had a craving for some warm apple cider and it reminded me of etrry. he would fuck that shit up omg omg christian girl fall is totally alienrry he would love going to the apple orchards and shit

The first time he tries a pumpkin spice latte, his feedback makes Y/N’s stomach flutter with endearment.

Harry smack his lips as he savors the spices and cozy notes in the drink, furrowing his brows in thought as he picks through all of the different emotions the taste produces. After a moment, his entire body relaxes, and a homey smile makes its way across his dimpled cheeks. “It tastes the way a warm hug feels.”

Y/N’s lips twitch as she sips from her own drink, letting his interpretation sink in. He’s recently taken to relating flavors to feelings and experiences, and the analogies he conjures up always amuse her to no end. “That was pretty poetic of you.”

Harry simpers over the brim of the coffee cup, hugging it with both hands as indulges another gulp. “Thank you, I think.”

She can’t help but notice how big his hands are— how they easily dwarf the paper mug, and how pretty his nails look covered in sage green polish (she’d painted them that color for the sake of irony, and he’d thought the joke was hilarious). The more she dwells on every detail of his hands— the veins that chisel over the back as he tightens his hold, or the length of his nimble fingers, or the small alien hieroglyphic tattoo along the area between his index finger and thumb— the more her thoughts derail towards the graphic end of the spectrum. Specifically, how he’d had those same hands all over her body the night prior.

How they had been tangled in her hair as they stumbled towards her room blindly, too lost in the sensation of each other’s lips to give anything else much attention. How his hands had felt as they hurriedly coasted down her chest and along the bottom of her sweatshirt, pulling it off in one swift motion so he could taste every inch of her skin, his tongue leaving a sweltering heat along her cleavage. How they had gripped her knees and spread them open as he situated himself onto his stomach on the mattress, a faint white cast sheathing his irises as he’d seen the way she was already dripping in anticipation. How his palms had held her down to the bed as he’d bobbed his head between her thighs, his tongue lapping at her sloppily as he’d moaned into her clit, the sound wet and guttural as his back muscles visibly tightened while she’d tugged at his curls and scratched at his scalp. How one hand had grasped her hip desperately as the other wrapped around her throat, its first two fingers weighing on her tongue as she’d sucked on them feverishly, wisps of his name escaping her throat as he’d pounded raw pleasure into the pit of her tummy. How he’d whimpered and gasped into her ear as his nails dug memories into the skin of her waist, and how she’d caught a glimpse of his fingerprints this morning in the mirror, dusted across her flesh in the form of bruises.

Harry’s voice yanks the girl out of her head. “What are you drinking?”

Y/N isn’t really one to crave coffee during the afternoon, so she’d picked up a bottle of rosé on the way home from grocery shopping, right before going to the drive-through at the nearest Starbucks to get him his beverage. He’d seen a commercial for it on TV the other day, and had expressed his interest for it during breakfast as she’d shoveled scrambled eggs onto a plate while he cut up a green apple across the kitchen island, popping a slice into his mouth while neatly organizing the others along his circular platter. And how could she say no to him, especially when he’d been standing there with such a hopeful look in those olive green puppy eyes, his cheeks puffed out with fruit and her teeth marked all over his neck and chest.

“It’s, uhm—” She clears her throat roughly, expelling the image of Harry’s toned stomach and thick happy trail from her brain. She snaps her gaze up to meet his, and the blissfully unaware innocence behind his tone and over his features makes blood rush to her cheeks. “It’s rosé.”

Harry sets down his cup carefully on her coffee table, shifting further back onto the couch and slouching into the cushions, his legs spreading open casually as he settles in. “That’s a type of alcohol, correct?”

Y/N glances down at his thighs momentarily, where his mesh shorts are riding up dangerously high. “Yep.”

If he notices, he doesn’t to show it, seen in how his accent maintains the same nonchalant curiosity as before. He throws an arm around her shoulders easily, scooting his body closer to her own across the sofa. He’s gotten way touchier since they started sleeping together, and she can’t say she doesn’t like it. She likes it more than she should, probably.

“The same liquid in those spiked ciders you got me last time? The sour one that incapacitates you?”

Y/N scoffs lightly at his accurate description, willingly leaning into his torso and folding her legs up under herself as she props her wine glass on her knee. “Mmhm. But that only happened because you drank the entire pack like a moron, remember?”

Harry rolls his eyes at her chastising tone and flat expression. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Maybe you should have asked me before randomly drinking things from that shelf in the fridge.”

“You were in the shower.”

“You could have waited.”

“I was thirsty.”

“There’s a water filter at the sink.”

“I wanted juice.”

“There was grape juice beside the milk.”

“I wanted apple and the bottles had pictures of them on the label. My apologies for using my practical thinking skills and measures of deduction.”

Y/N sighs in good-natured exasperation, shoving him with her shoulder as revenge for his snarky comebacks. “Well, look where your practical thinking skills and measures of deduction got you— bent over the toilet bowl with puke shooting out of your nostrils. Now you know that anything with the word, ‘alcohol’ on it needs to be taken in moderation. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” The young woman takes a sip from her glass, savoring it patiently as the sweet and tangy flavor filters through her taste buds. “Lesson learned, then.”

“Unfortunately.” The alien deadpans, pinching along the underside of her underarm just to feel her squirm and squeak. He smiles childishly at her reaction, giggling as she curses at him under her breath.

“You almost made me spill my drink.” She grumbles, getting comfortable once more against his warm body. “And this is the good stuff, too. I’d break the bottle over your head.”

“A bit rash, I think.” Harry snorts sarcastically, eyeing the pink moscato for a moment as it swishes inside her chilled cup, her fingers leaving smudges in the condensation. He then lilts his gaze back towards her own, his tone soft and full of wonder. “Can I try?”

“Promise not to throw up all over my floor again?” The girl quips tauntingly, jutting her chin towards her rug symbolically.

Harry exhales in surrendered embarrassment, lifting his hand and hooking their pinkies together. “Pinky swear.”

Y/N nods her head in the agreement, fending off a fond grin as she lifts the glass to his plush, rosy lips. “Go ahead, then, Area 51.”

The alien snorts softly at the nickname, well aware of its origins now that he’s learned more about Earth’s relationship with extraterrestrial components. Those documentaries on the Discovery Channel are quite educational.

Harry sifts his mouth over the rim of the glass, making eye contact with Y/N to let her know he’s ready for her to pour the drink in. She tilts the wine, watching it funnel past his lips to gauge how much is an adequate amount. She pulls back, observing as he nurses the liquid pensively, his brows creasing like before as he distinguishes all the different flavors present. He smacks his lips again, blinking slowly as he forms his opinion, licking at a drop that had escaped the corner of his mouth.

“So?” Y/N inquires, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “What’s it taste like?”

Harry cranes his sight over to her, the studious expression on his face melting into one of slight smugness, as if what he’s about to say is something amusing. The left edge of his mouth jolts upwards, a sly smirk carving its way across his face as he presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek almost arrogantly, his eyes raking down her body in an objectifying once-over. His descent stops at her clasped thighs, which he focuses on for a few seconds longer than she deems acceptable, and then his gaze travels back up to lock with her own. There’s now a different type of darkness to the jade swirling around his pupils, electrified by something he has yet to express to her fully, but seems excited to do so.

The young man leans forward, and Y/N almost falls back at the sudden closeness of their proximity. He ghosts his lips over the curve of her jaw and across the slope of her cheekbone, stopping at the shell of her ear as if he wants to share a secret. He drags his pillowy lips over the area with every intention to rile her up, his skin cool and damp from the beverage, but unbelievably warm beneath the initial shock of that caveat. His breath carries the same juxtaposing sensations— it’s cold on impact, but heats up the farther it travels across the side of her face and down to the pulse in her neck. His words are low and heavy, but sultry and smooth like the wine they’d shared; a seductive whisper that intoxicates her in a fiery manner that no amount of alcohol ever could.

“It tastes like sex. It tastes the way you do between your thighs, and it feels the way you feel when I’m buried between your legs. And if I close my eyes and savor it, I can taste you whining my name into my mouth, and I can taste you begging for it on my tongue.”

[sadlysoulx]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS GOING TO IKEA

Part 2 (w/ Hinata, Kageyama, Sakusa, Oikawa, Ushijima and Tendou)

I really really like the idea of haikyuu boys going to Ikea, the part 1 is on my account so pls feel free to read it. As u can see. . . Double post😏😏😏 I want to spoil y'all coz ur my bbs😌✨ please enjoy ❤️ THANK YOU FOR 49 FOLLOWERS 😭💓✨

Hinata

Please this ball of sunshine's never been excited to go to a furniture shop

He likes it because he loves picking up mysterious tools.

GURLLL, THE MOMMENT YOU STEPPED IN IKEA HE GOT LOST😭

You got so nervous coz you can't find your boyfriend in the sea of people.

That is until the speakers blared out, saying:

"L/N Y/N, please come to the office, your child has been found,"

And you were like: wait I have a child???👀👄👀

But then you figured it's probably Hinata

So you went in the office to see Hinata pretending to crying his eyes out

And then when he looked up, he said to the staff:

"yeah. . . That's my mom,"

You:👁️👄👁️

Employees:👁️ᴗ👁️

Hinata: 👁️〰️👁️

After that, you made sure Hinata doesn't leave your sight.

He sat in that cart where your supposed to hang the yellow ikea bag.

Hinata likes to point to things you don't need and tries to convince you to buy them.

"Y/N. . . Please! Look it's so cool, you just have to spin this and then your pencil would be sharpened!"

"Ooooooh! Y/N we need to get that folding table!"

"WOW! Y/N, Y/N, babe! Look at that sofa that can turn into a bed, let's have one!"

But ofcourse you didn't buy them🙅

After buying things you need, you went to the Ikea food court to have lunch.

This baby likes the kiddie meal where you are given a colored plate filled with nuggets and french fries.

Please, Kuroo and Bokuto had a huge influence on him since they also like kiddie meals.💀

He also likes the Ikea meatballs<3

But then after that, he convinced you to let him go to the Ikea Kid playground.

Since he's a small baby, the Ikea staff let him in😭😭😭

(pretend there's no height limit)

Your watched through the window outside as he played.

He settled in the pool of plastic balls playing with other kids.

And then he went up climbing the big dust pan with those ropes and surrounded by plastic balls😖

He watched cartoons with other kids❤️

But then he immediately went out because he made a kid cry by accidentally cursing at them💀

Hinata may be a fluff ball but sometimes Tsukishima is a bad influence for him 🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama

ಠ_ಠ expression always on

When you wanted to show him something and ask if it's nice, he would nod and just be like: ಠ_ಠ

Seriously, when you show him a kitchen knife, he would nod and say:

"It's nice you should buy it,"💀

When you show him a useless kitchen tool, he would nod and say to buy it.

Help this boi✋🏻😭

He doesn't know how to shop😭

Buuuuut when it comes or the bedroom area, he would sit on it and lay down.

Kageyama would drag you on the bed and make you lay down beside him, not caring if people gave you weird looks❤️

He keeps on insisting to get a new matress because the one he's laying on is soft.

And then he mentioned how you need to buy a new bedframe because the both of you broke the ones in the house.😃

BECAUSE YOU WERE JUMPING ON THE BED SEEING WHO CAN JUMP THE HIGHEST.

He was bored whenever you stop by to check something out

So he stands behind you like🕴️

And one time he accidentally made a kid cry😭

He just tried to make the baby laugh with "funny faces"

But then he ended up making them cry¯\_( ˘_˘)_/¯

You know that part of Ikea where there are really tall shelves with full of boxes?? Yeah that one

It's so adorable how he looks up at them with his chin up in the air like how a child would look up on an airplane 😖❤️

Oh yeah and he insists on buying those cute tent playhouse 🎪. 😃

He even begs on his knees for you to accept to buy it.

When you stopped to eat, he wants to push the food cart for you, he find it exciting to out on the trays of the cart😣

he always go back to the line to get another carton of milk

He came back 3 times, back and forth just to buy another milk🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama likes the yogurt that Ikea sells, he likes the strawberries and berries decorated on top of it.

He doesn't have his own plate of food, he wants to share with you✌️

Sakusa

He doesn't want to go

But reader-senpai is so stubborn so you insist

He didn't want to go so you finally gave up, leaving him in your shared apartment.

But then at the last minute, he said he wanna come.

Yoomi-bby doesn't want people to touch you or even ask for your number.

What's his is only his so no SHARING 😤

He always scolds you on stop picking up things on everything you see.

So every time you drop the item, he sprays your hands with alcohol

Coz he doesn't want his baby to be sick😪

But when the both of you reached the bathroom/toilet models, he literally switched.

He finds them interesting😃

Like how the bathroom models are beautifully designed.

He finds it funny when the inside of the toilet is covered with plastic, so no one would really poop or pee in it

He laughs so cute 😖❤️

He laughs for straight 2 minutes and you don't really care, he's just adorable.

Please he collects Ikea pencils 😭

He takes more when he saw another Ikea pencil and ruler stall.

And then take some random paper and draws on it out of boredom.

He drew you😞

It wasn't the best but it's cute how he tries hard.

Kiyoomi also find the chair sections interesting.

He likes the rocking chairs and said that he would get one

How could you say no?❤️

He payed for it easily and it would be delivered in the apartment this night.

💸RICH BOI 💸

When you are in the rugs and mats section, he likes touching the furry ones

"Look Y/N! it's really soft. . . Touch it,"

But then he told you to leave the area immediately because it smells weird👁️👄👁️

It came from those leather and those cow skin looking matts💀

When lunch rolls by, he likes to watch kids playing in the playground 😣

He eats fancy so don't be surprised if you see him use knife and fork so expertly and eat steak with some sauce.

He gets so excited when going home because he can finally set up the rocking chair 💀

Oikawa

He loves shopping!

I can sense it, he radiates the vibes, you can't change my mind.

He picks up everything he sees and put in the cart.

And you have to get those things from the cart and put it back because you don't need them💀

He whines about how he needs all of them

And you have to remind him that they would just stay in the storage room like how the other things ended up he brought last time.

But nuh-uh

🎶He sees it, he likes it, he want it, he got it🎶

🎶I want it, I got it, I want it, I got it🎶

"Y/N-chan, I'll buy it with my own money! You don't have to worry about it!"

You know what are the things he buys?

A whole chandelier, an emergency lamp that charges by spinning the ledge, a WHOLE cabinet, some kitchen utensils–he doesn't cook💀 and some more things. . .😐

He actually bought the whole Ikea 😭

But then he came up to you and ask if you can buy him those dog stuff toys.

He pouted for it.

You gave in and bought two stuff toys for you and him❤️

And then you remembered why he asked you to buy it for him when he had no problem to pay the expensive things he wanted.🙄

"So that it would be special, Y/N, look it came from you!"

He likes the candle section.

He specifically likes the scented ones.🕯️

Oikawa keeps picking them up and smelling them😭

He ended up adding to cart once again🤦

He made a delivery truck deliver all the things he bought to your house.

Ofcourse he would, he 💸rich💸

After that you both ate

And he just had to insist on you feeding him because he wanted to make the lonely teen across him jealous 😭😭😭 slskskjfgh

He likes the bread bowls

No he doesn't put soup in them

He just likes the bread.

You don't have to go back to Ikea for a whole year because you remembered Oikawa bought the whole store.

Ushijima

He just follows you everywhere, stoic and not saying anything 😐

When you stop to check on something he'll be like🕴️behind you

He also picks up some things that interests him😖

And if her finds something weird, he'll pick it up also and try to find out how to use it

But he ends up breaking it, so he quickly put it back and walk back to you😭

He holds your hand and look around as if he's a lost puppy ❤️

Waka-waka takes those paper rulers and roll them into a tight roll💀 please I do that everytime

He also collects those Ikea brochures and still takes another one even though you have a lot at home 😃

You know those yellow banners that hung from the ceiling with the prizes labeled on it??

Like kenma from part 1, he jumps and hits it with his fingertips aww

He's a huge baby🤭

Until he breaks it and made it fall on the floor💀

The both of you quickly run away before a staff scolds you both

Everytime other time, out of the blue, he would hug you, telling how much you mean to him😢

You know those fake windows in house models where it's actually just wallpapers lightened up from underneath??

He thrash talked about who taught about it because it didn't look too realistic 💀

He likes the kitchen section because the kitchen tools amazes him nd he cooks in the house,sooo¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ushijima points at the things he find interesting and talk about them to you

"hey. . .Y/N. . . That thing is so cool, it can turn into a bed from a sofa. . ."

ANDDDD

He also likes the outdoor/garden section.❤️

He has his mini garden and he plants succulents😩

So he puts soils and other plant materials he needed for planting like pots and shovels.

He buys you plastic flowers too💀

It's not real but hey! At least it came from someone you really really love😏

He buys you unnecessarily a lot of those too😃

buys you things you needed, anything you want, he'll buy for you. . .

He'll just take out his credit card💳

When lunch comes, he always take the fruit salad because he likes it.

He would also feed you his own food•//////•

Ushjima always likes the fish with that kind of sauce

He shares food

So take it or leave it 😤

Tendou

Baki Baki ni oreeeee~

I love this boi, I don't get why people see him as a monster😤

Oki oki, he is sooooo excited to go around ikea

He takes a lot of the Ikea magazines

"it's free! So why not take many?"

He literally skips around beside you and gets excited over small things

"Ooooooh, Y/N! A rechargable light bulb!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Come here! Look, it's a chandelier that opens and closes!!"

He is very curious about things so make sure you stir him away from the kitchen section because that's where most of the weirdest things are.

Somehow you'd still end up in the kitchen section

He saw this weird looking scissors and he doesn't know what are the other features for.

You told him to drop it because he might hurt himself.

But no, he just had to figure out what is is for💀

He ended up hurting himself from toying around a scissors that separates each leg so that it can become a knife.

Of course he did hurt himself🤦

He run up to you, whimpering

And you just have to scold him😐

One time he got so curious about what that heavy door was for and he opened it

The alarm started going off🚨💀

IT WAS AN EMERGENCY DOOR

You made sure you don't let Tendou out of your sight again

When you stopped for lunch, you let him control the food cart.

But he accidentally pushed an old lady infront of the line with it.

Don't worry Gran is fine👵

What's with Haikyuu characters always liking kiddie meals?!😭

Yeah yeah he likes them❤️

But then when you two settled down to finally eat

He screamed why is his plate color is green, he wants red😭

You told him to finish his food quickly or else you'll leave him there

So both of you finished quickly and Satori wants to go home as fast as possible because he said he has a concert in his shower💀💀💀

My hands hurts😐

Anyways thank you for staying till the end❤️

Every like, reblogs and follow is appreciated 😏

This is my work so please don't steal in any way, not even turning it into a tiktok😐

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[sophie-i-guess13]

Dahlias

Okay essentially this is what happens to Sylvia after Dallas’s death. Also, if you’re one of those people who like music and fics, I recommend Almost (sweet music) by Hoizer. Mostly for the line “I laugh like me again / (s)he laughs like you.”

|Words: 2584|

|Characters: Sylvia, OC’s, Dallas Winston|

|Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet|

|TW: Canonical Character Death|

Tag! @mjmacchio1991 @apricot-colored-feathers @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato 

I have plenty of scars. Most on my hands and arms, even a few on my legs from all the times I’ve stumbled through the house in the dark to get to her bedroom when she starts to cry. Hell, I even have a scar on my shoulder from that one night at Buck’s. You remember that, don’t you? Don’t even get me started on the one on my hand- all ‘cause you couldn’t hold a chain right.

I don’t have to worry about turning my knee varying shades of blue, green, and purple when I wake up and pull the sheets back into place, though. She’s getting better at sleeping through the night, now we just have to work on getting her to stay in her own bed. She’d woken up with her daddy this morning and let me get a little bit of extra sleep. Now, she’s sprawled out on the sheepskin rug Rob’s great aunt or grandmother or something was so keen on giving us.

It’s coated in two generations worth of dog hair, burnt tobacco, and whatever else Great Aunt Sandra managed to spill and never clean up, but now my daughter loves to spill her Cheerios over the rug and pick them up, one by one, waiting for Daddy to get home. I can hear reruns of The Flintstones going on in the living room. If I look over my shoulder, I can watch her staring at the tiny silver screen, too.

She looks real cute when she does it, legs crossed with her dry cereal splattered around in front of her and lopsided pigtails. I think that if the opportunity presented itself, I’d be able to sit and watch her all day. Listen to her babble and stumble around the house as she plays with her toys, watch her eyes go as big as the dinner plates when the doorbell rang or a bird flew past the window.

But I’ve never had the luxury of sitting back while others tidy my mess, and that ain’t about to start anytime soon. Not unless Rob hits it big with whatever scheme the Shepard brothers have him roped up in.

So I turn back to the sink and drop my hands back to the warm, soapy water. I can feel the small cuts and scrapes painted across my skin when my hands scrub clean her sippy cups. I’ve got plenty of little reminders of the life I once lived on my fingers, but more than enough reminders of what it means to be a mother on my chest. No one tells you how nippy babies can be, but we’ve weaned her onto bottles now. Momma can go on and on about how “breastfeeding will strengthen our bond”, but if Dahlia and I were any more bonded, you’d think she was still inside me.

No, I did not name my only daughter after you, you cocky asshole. Dahlias have always been my favourite flower and- well, I had to tell Rob I was pregnant with his child four weeks after our wedding and through six inches of bulletproof glass, so he decided he didn’t get an opinion on her name.

It’s a pretty name for a pretty girl, named after a pretty flower. Never mind they’re the same ones I left on your gravestone the first time I was brave enough to visit.

We have a small house- even by eastside standards. I don’t have a bulbous stomach anymore, but getting around in the kitchen is still a tight squeeze with all of Dal’s stuff lying around. The kitchen blends right into the dining area, which is exactly between the door to our backyard and the front door. That door, the one that faces the back of the park Bob Sheldon died at, is to the left of the living room.

I think the living room is my favourite place in the whole house. We’ve got a little television, an old beat-up sofa and recliner and a coffee table smack dab in the middle of the ugly rug. It smells like coffee most of the time- since drinking coffee while she watches cartoons is Rob and Dahlia’s morning routine. I really don’t know what that poor fool is gonna do when she has to go to school. In those early hours, the sun bleeds in through the three panes of glass behind the television and paints my floor like a kaleidoscope. Most of all, I love what the sun and her rays do to my pictures on the wall.

We were nineteen. Two teenagers- children, really, with veins crawling with liquor and lust. No one thought we’d last the week, but here we are, three years later. The photo in the center was us on our wedding day, his arm looped around my waist while my eyes strained to look everything but hungover. My curls were products of Angela’s hairspray and Evie’s drugstore curlers, making me into a budget Dolly Parton. If you squint, you can see my hand pressed against his chest and the ring he’d put on my finger.

If you look closer still, you can see the chain of your St. Christopher on my lace-lined throat. It didn’t seem right to wear another man’s ring on my wedding day, even if Rob told me he didn’t mind.

From there, the pictures branch off in our own family tree. We have everything from Christmas Eve and Morning, to Halloween (Dahlia was really into cowboys that Fall), even Rob’s first mugshot as a married man and “Baby’s first time visiting Daddy in prison” because I thought it was funny. The one I’m staring at now is the newest to the collection- and the reason for the new scar on the back of my knuckles.

Your memory’s been plaguing Buck’s for long enough. I’d tried doing it a million times before, but storming into your bedroom with a garbage bag and a blinding fury only seemed to get harder. I hated every damn second it took to empty your dresser and chuck what was left of your clothes into those black bags. I hated tiptoeing over your carpet and seeing the shapes staring back at me, the stains we’d left all those times we thought Buck had no idea we’d helped ourselves to his secret stash.

I hated seeing our initials carved into your door frame.

I hated the fact that I cried into Rob’s chest for most of the evening when we decided everything of yours that couldn’t be donated or recycled would just be burned. Buck and Dahlia had fun though, tossing sticks into the burning pile behind the bar and away from prying eyes. I hated the feeling of my flesh bubbling when I barely stopped Buck from tossing away your red t-shirt.

It was easily the rattiest piece of clothing I’d ever seen you in, but I’d seen you in it too many times to just let it go up in smoke. It sits in the bottom of my dresser most days, I’ll make use of it eventually. I don’t wear it, of course. When he’s gone, I usually wrap myself in one of Rob’s over shirts if it gets cool enough.

Dahlia squeals suddenly, the sound slicing through the air and cutting off the last bit of Fred Flintstone’s next clever idea. It’s an odd mix of a giggle and typical baby-babble, but it’s a sound like no other and only heard when Rob’s keys jingle in the doorknob.

You probably met him a while back, though I doubt you’d remember him. Rob Cook was a skinny sonuvabitch back in high school, all gangly limbs and a nose he hadn’t quite grown into. He ran with Tim and his gang- has been for about six years now. There’s a warm gust of late-summer air blowing through the open door when I wipe my hands on the dishcloth hanging from the oven door and purse my lips and cross my arms over my chest. Dahlia waddles towards her daddy, swaying back and forth on her tiny feet until he scoops her into his arms.

She settles almost instinctively, curious fingers already distracted by the shiny buttons of his leather jacket, or a single strand of his greased-back hair. Everyone says the sixties are dying- they are- but you should know as well as anyone that being a greaser isn’t something you just quit.

“Tim says hello,” he says as he kicks off his shoes and makes his way back into the living room, pausing for a moment to glance at the t.v. “My parents do, too. Wondering if you wanna head over for dinner sometime this week.”

Now that we’re older, he’s really grown up. He’s still got some acne dotted across his chin, but it’s mostly covered by stubble now. His hair’s quite a bit darker now, too- not nearly as dark as Johnny’s was, but a nice, rich brown. Rob has eyes I can’t describe. I’ve spent too long staring at them in all different settings, trying to make sense of the millions of different shades swirling around his pupils. It’s a nice change, I think. Something different than just cold blue staring back at me all the time. Dahlia really did take after her daddy in every way; from the same even tan, to the same wide nose, even the way her hair rested and curled around her chubby cheeks.

“That’s just fine,” I drawl in response, “remind me to get your momma’s casserole recipe. Y’know, the one with the- “ Contrary to the things you read in magazines nowadays, I really didn’t have a problem with my in-laws. They were honestly the only couple my parents’ age who didn’t seem to hate each other. Marg adored me and the granddaughter I’d given her, and Samuel came around constantly, always making sure his son was treating me right and that I wasn’t about to waste my money on a handyman when he could clean my gutters for free.

Well, he’d clean them as long as I promised he could buy Dahlia her first bike, that is.

The subconscious part of my mind forces my feet to carry me across the floor and into his arms’ reach. I don’t even notice until his fingers hook through my belt loops and pull me towards him and all I can smell is burnt tobacco and Old Spice.

He’s never come home smelling like perfume I can’t afford or hairspray I don’t use. He’s never come home with lipstick stains on his collar, or the scent of hard liquor on his breath. He’s never done anything to scare me. Never raised a fist or a hand to me, I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice. I spent too long trying to convince myself I didn’t deserve it; that I didn’t deserve to be loved by a guy like him. Jesus, I even rejected his first proposal ‘cause I thought he was joking.

Now, I sink into his arms and tuck my head just beneath his chin, relishing in the low chuckle I can feel at the base of his throat. “How are the boys?” I mumble. He just laughs and shakes his head. It’s still a gang, I guess, still pulling different stunts I thought Tim and Curly would’ve let die with their youth. Then I remember Tim and Curly ain’t you.

The Shepards and Buck are the only of your buddies I still talk to nowadays. I keep in touch with Evie and Kathy- Angela, too, but what’s left of the Curtis gang won’t even look my way when we pass in the grocery store. The joke’s on Steve Randle, though, he’ll have to see my face every day when we both drop our kids off at preschool.

“Y’know how they are,” he says in return, “word’s goin’ ‘round with some guys from the southside tryna start something. Might go down there and set ‘em straight one of these nights.” He holds me a little tighter as the sentence hangs in the air, the sinister meaning leaves a taste like soap in my mouth. “Don’t worry about it, Syl, you know I’m coming home to you.”

I realize then and there I didn’t mourn you like a girlfriend is supposed to. I didn’t miss the weight of your arm around my waist as we strolled into my cousin’s bar, not the smell of your aftershave or the way your clothes felt against my skin. Thinking of it, I didn’t do a damn thing like that for you. I did that for Rob. For my husband.

I didn’t mourn you like a girlfriend would mourn for a lover. I knew the title never fit me, and I finally know why. I didn’t lose a lover the night you died, I lost a friend. That’s what I miss. I miss the nights you chucked pebbles at my bedroom window until I pulled it open and saw you standing there, Buck’s car keys caught in your fist and shining in the moonlight- as corny as it is.

I’ll always miss those midnight adventures and the nights we spent together, speeding down the freeway cursing our parents’ names until our voices were raw.

I realize now, as I sink back onto the sofa and let Dahlia crawl across the floor to pick away at what’s left of her cereal, that I don’t miss you. Rob’s arm is cast over my shoulder, lips pressed against my temple and eyes on our daughter. It doesn’t hurt to say your name anymore, to picture your smile, or think about tearing your t-shirt apart and turning it into a few new rags.

The sixties are dying alongside the life I lived with you. I’ll never walk into that bar again and find you in the crowd, I’ll never call one of my girlfriends up in the middle of the night and fill her in on how you messed up again. I’ll never lean against your shoulder when we’re stuck watching some shitty flick at the Drive-In, and I’m okay with that.

I have plenty of scars I’ve earned throughout my lifetime, most with stories I don’t remember. I know where I got the one on the inside of my forearm, though. I know where the scar on my earlobe came from, too. Letting you pierce my ear with a sewing needle wasn’t my smartest idea, but it made for a good story, even years after it happened. Even years after you died.

The scar across my heart is new and still burns more often than not- burning with grief I thought for so long I had no claim to. I didn’t lose you the way your gang did, the way your family did, but it hurt all the same. I resented you for it for longer than I should have, too.

I’m five years older and five years wiser. If I’ve learned anything from soothing a baby and bandaging up my husband after yet another rumble, it’s that scars can heal.

It may take a while, but scars heal. You don’t have to forget about them, but there will come a day when they don’t hurt anymore.

I doubt you’ll care, you never seemed interested in my approval anyway, but I think it’s time I admit it. If not for you, then for me, you selfish asshole.

I’m okay, Dally. I forgive you.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Wait

The Pool | The Difference | The Notes | The Fear | The Thought | The Question | The Walk | The Worry | The Ordeal | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only Notes: Merry Christmas Eve to those of you that partake! To those of you  that do not, happy Thursday! I hope everyone is having a wonderful week!  💝

Warnings: This chapter deals with pregnancy! I’ve CW’d them for that in the tags!! If you need me to add any additional tags, please let me know. I’m not a doctor and have never been pregnant. Just, you know. Disclaimer.

Summary: Thing is, you think you’re able to keep it quiet from the guys for a while.

You don’t tell the guys the good news at first. Thing is, because you don’t tell them, they notice some stuff about you. Stuff like the fact that you’re getting up to pee… More often than usual. You just pass it off as drinking a lot of water - hydrating way more, it’s been a goal of yours, anyway. They let that go.

But then there is also that time Connors gets a tuna fish sub with extra mustard and relish and you nearly throw up in the middle of the bullpen. You manage to make it to the bathroom before getting sick. Borracho meets you in the hall with a bottle of water, a pack of gum and a kiss on the forehead. You take a walk around the block to get the smell out of your nose. When you get back to the office, all of the windows are wide open. You know it’s Borracho’s doing, but the guys are all ribbing Connors for bringing in the smelliest sandwich imaginable. With this distraction you manage to meet Borracho’s eye and mouth, I love you, without anyone noticing. -- 

The two of you have some stuff to figure out - moving into a new place is your first priority. Your current apartment just doesn’t have enough room for a baby. The two of you have been looking at a few places, have gone to a couple of open houses, but nothing has seemed like a good fit. Borracho, unsurprisingly, wants to move somewhere closer to his family. You do see the appeal - more people in close range to help with the baby. And you do love the Magalons. But you also… Kinda like having your space. And maybe that’s a little selfish of you, especially considering how much you know they’re going to offer to help you two with the baby. After your first prenatal doctor appointment, the two of you go looking at a few places. The two of you have mostly been looking at two-bedroom apartments. You see one or two that you kind of like, but the two of you agree that what you saw was not what you were looking for. You stop to grab a bite to eat - you’re getting sleepy (you’re so tired these days, but Nadia tells you that that’s normal - so does Megan… And Isobel… And Regina, and your mother), and Borracho didn’t eat before the two of you left the apartment that morning. The two of you cuddle up on the same side of a booth at a diner, and you don’t even care that you look like the kind of couple that you used to make fun of. You’re too comfortable, tucked into Borracho’s side. You’re half-asleep (“Resting my eyes, I swear,” You mumble when he accuses you of being completely asleep), and he’s scrolling through more apartment listings on his phone while you wait for your food. “Food’s here, sweetness,” He murmurs, and you vaguely register the light thunk of plates being set on the table. “You want another cup of coffee?” The waitress asks, “You look like you could use it.” And she’s right, you’d love one, but you need to start cutting back on the caffeine, so you give her a smile and ask for more water instead. “Our baby better appreciate my caffeine withdrawals,” You sigh, scrubbing at your eyes. Borracho chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “They will. Hey-- Gabriel sent me a listing. You up for checking out one more when we’re done here?” You consider it for a moment as you pick up your spoon and push your oatmeal around to help it cool a bit. If Gabriel sent it, it’ll probably be quite close to the Magalons.  And frankly, right now what you really want to do is go home and curl up on the couch. But you might feel better after you’ve got some food in you. So you nod. “I could go for one more.” -- It’s a condo, not an apartment. It’s got plenty of light; the bedrooms are right across the hall from one another; there’s only one bathroom, but you think you could live with that; the kitchen is much more open than the kitchen you have now. It’s a twenty minute drive to the nearest Magalon home; they’re not right on top of you and you don’t feel underfoot. “What do you think?” Borracho asks as the two of you leave. “... I really love it, but I didn’t wanna say it while we were in there. What do you think?” “I think… We should look at the listing online again and then maybe go to the bank. See what we can do about a loan.” You grin. “I would so be doing a little excited jump but I feel like if I jump right one, I am going to throw up.” “I’ve got the gum.” 

-- Thing is, you think you’re able to keep it quiet from the guys for a while. You don’t intend to at first, really, you don’t, but they do catch on to some things - like the fact that you’re not drinking when the group of you go out for drinks after work. You just pass it off as being the designated driver for the two of you, and the guys rib Borracho, telling him to let you have some fun once in a while. You’re able to hide the slowly growing bump under your jackets and shirts and dresses. Nick officially finds out first - you schedule a meeting with him to discuss maternity leave during your fourth month. He has a straight face for a few moments before he nods and congratulates you. “Thanks,” You smile, “Who won the bet?” “Connors.” “Motherfucker, every time.” The guys won’t tell you how much the bet was for, though - they won’t even tell Borracho, which is new, and weird. But the two of you shrug it off, and the guys insist on taking the two of you out that night, and make a show of buying you rounds of seltzer. 

-- “Do you want to know the sex?” You turn away from the ultrasound to look at Borracho. The two of you have been asking each other that all week. “We’ll get a bunch of yellow stuff if we don’t,” You’d pointed out, “Do we want a bunch of yellow baby stuff? Or people will buy a ton of stuff one color or the other and then be like, ‘well gosh, now you can’t use it’ if it’s the other sex-- Even though we’ll use it anyway-- Am I overthinking this?” You’d asked, looking up at him from where you were cuddled back against his chest on the couch in your new condo. He’d looked down at you, brows raised. “You are, but it’s hilarious, so, please, keep going.” 

“Do you wanna know?” You ask him now, because if there’s a time to stop the technician from telling you, it’s this moment. And Borracho glances from the ultrasound to you before he shakes his head a little. “Do you?” He asks. You smile and shake your head. “We’ll wait,” You say, turning to look at the technician again. 

-- 

“I love this green!” Nadia’s squealed declaration is ear-piercing, but you’re glad she approves of it. You laugh a little, watching her look around the room. You and Borracho painted the room a couple of days ago. The two of you had settled on a sage green color - not too in-your-face, but something that would be warm and welcoming. Borracho and Gabriel are out getting some of the furniture for the nursery now - the bassinet, the rocking chair, the combination changing table-dresser. Nadia’s dropped her kids off with Isobel to come over and help you guys start building some of the furniture. “You’re getting a rug?” “A small area one, yeah. Grey,” You nod. “How’s everything been?” Nadia asks, watching you lower yourself to lean against the windowsill. “Oh, it’s been…” Nadia gives you a knowing look, cutting off the, ‘being pregnant is great’ spiel you usually give the guys at work when they ask (because as sweet as it is for them to ask, they don’t really want to know). You sigh. “I’m constipated and my boobs are getting bigger.” Nadia nods, reaching out and patting your cheek. “Welcome to the club, honey.” 

-- 

“Stop scratching.” “I’m not scratching.” “I saw you scratching, sweetness,” Borracho chuckles, “I’ll get the salve, get on the bed.” You don’t bicker with him. He’s been a saint - giving you a hand up to stretch when you have leg cramps, helping around the apartment more when you’re tired - and rubbing salve when your stretching belly is itchy. You lean back on the bed and pull your sleep shirt up. You sigh, giving your growing baby bump a rub.  “Not scratching, huh?” Borracho teases, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, “I see irritation.” “It’s itchy,” You whine. Borracho lets out a sympathetic hum before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your belly. You smile, watching him sit up and open the jar of salve. His sisters all swore by it - and they’d been right. It smells good, helps soothe the itch, and is a life saver. Borracho scoops out a small amount and begins to rub it in. You sigh, resting your head back against the pillows. “We still have to narrow down names,” You remind him. He hums, nodding, and you reach out to the notepad you keep on the bedside table. “Don’t drop that on your face again,” He teases as he reaches into the jar again. “You made me laugh last time, so that’s still your fault,” You argue, but you’re giggling. You flip it open, finding your list. “Mmm… Start with boy names?” You offer. “Sure, sweetness,” Borracho murmurs. “So we’ve got… Liam… Santiago… Xavier… and Giovanni.” “I don’t like Giovanni,” Borracho says, “I don't like the nickname ‘Gio’.” “Well someone’s name doesn’t necessarily dictate their nickname, Borracho,” You tease, “But I’m fine to take that one off of the list… I don’t think I like Liam so much anymore.” “Really?” “Mm. Liam Magalon. They kinda run together. LiammmMagalon.” Borracho chuckles, closing the jar of solve. “Liam’s out, then.” You reach out to the bedside table and grab the pen, crossing off Liam and Giovanni as Borracho stands up to put away the salve.  “So that leaves us with...Santiago or Xavier.” “What about girls?” You turn the page. “Mmmm… Malia… Faye… and Xiomara.” “I like Malia,” Borracho flops onto the bed beside you. “Yeah?” You raise a brow, looking over at him. He nods a little. “Malia Magalon… Lia for short. Be cute.” “It would be cute,” You smile. Borracho watches you for a moment before he leans up, kissing you gently. You lower the notepad and cup his cheek, humming quietly. “Agreed, then?” He murmurs. You nod. “Malia if it’s a girl,” You murmur. “If it’s a boy?” He asks against your lips. “We’ll figure that out later,” You drop the notepad on the bedside table, reaching out to catch hold of his shirt with your other hand. 

--

You have two baby showers. You expect one, but not the other. They’re both sort of surprises in their own way. 

--

The first one is more traditional. It’s at Regina’s house - your friends, Borracho’s sisters, and your family are there. Borracho knows before you do that it’ll be happening. If you’re honest, you kind of suspect it. He’s on his phone all morning - you see his mom’s name, his sister’s names popping up. You don’t look too closely at the messages, but you’re suspicious when he mentions swinging by his mom’s to pick up a couple of things and asks you to tag along. He knows that the jig is up when you come out of the bedroom in a photo-ready outfit. “... Was I obvious?” He asks. “No, babe. I just know how Magalons do surprises now,” You tease, before pecking his lips, “Let’s go.” --

The second one you do not expect at all.

Nick asks you to drop a file to someone on another floor.

There’s a moment where you think, ‘Can you ask someone that isn’t seven months pregnant?’, but you take it and go. The elevator takes a stupidly long time both ways. By the time you make it back, your desk has been decorated, the guys are all standing around it, and there’s a banner hanging from the fluorescent lights that says, ‘Surprise!’

Tears fill your eyes and you cover your mouth with one hand and wave at your eyes with the other.

“She’s crying! Pay up!” Nick yells.

Borracho runs his hand over his face before directing his gaze at the ceiling.

Once you’ve calmed down, you sit at your desk and the guys give you a few gifts for the baby. Henderson passes out cupcakes (you eat yours and Borracho’s). 

“You guys find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Nope. We’re flyin’ blind,” Borracho says, rubbing his hand between your shoulder blades.

“How much money is riding on it being a boy?” You ask, peeling the wrapper off of the second cupcake. The guys look between each other and you tip your head to the side.

“C’mon, if you tell me you’re not betting on it, I am so calling bullshit. Do you know?” You turn to Borracho, but he shakes his head, “Not a clue, sweetness.”

“We’re gonna let it be a surprise. You’ll see,” Nick waves it off.

--

“Settle down, tiny,” You grumble, looking down at your stomach, “You’ve gotta let mama sleep.”

“Kicking again?” Borracho asks.

“We’re having a soccer player,” You tell him as he comes over to the bed, “Or a can-can dancer.”

“Maybe they’ll do both, why are you trying to limit our baby?” Borracho teases you. You chuckle.

“Maybe they will-- Or maybe they hated that idea,” You wince at a particularly hard kick.

Borracho lays down on his stomach beside you and leans closer to your belly.

“No more kicking your mama, little one,” He murmurs, “We talked about this.”

You raise a brow, peering down at him from where you propped up on a small mountain of pillows.

“Did you?” You ask. He hums, nodding and rubbing a hand over your belly.

“When exactly did you have this talk?” You add, “I feel like I would’ve remembered this.”

“You were napping at the time, sweetness. This was a dad and baby talk.”

You bite your lip, fighting a wide smile.

“Do you have these talks often?”

“Sometimes.”

You reach out, running your fingers through Borracho’s hair.

“...Are you excited?” You ask. You feel like you haven’t asked since… Well, since you told Borracho that you were pregnant. He nods, looking up at you,

“A little nervous,” He admits, “But… Yeah, I’m excited. Are you?”

“Mhm. Not just because I won’t be getting kicked… from the inside, but… I wanna meet our kid.”

Borracho chuckles and sits up, placing his hands on either side of your head and bracing himself as he leans in for a kiss. You smile, reaching up and cupping his cheeks.

“... Well, thank you for the dad and baby talk. Tiny listened to you,” You glance down at your stomach.

“Mm,” Borracho lowers his head and presses a kiss to your neck, “Anytime, sweetness.”

--

Borracho’s at work when it happens.

You try not to panic.

You just take a deep breath and pick up your phone and call Nadia and say as calmly as you possibly can that your water broke and you need someone to drive you to the hospital. She doesn’t exactly… Answer, at first? She kinda screams - an excited one, but it doesn’t exactly calm you down.

You call Borracho after Nadia tells you that she’ll drop the kids off with Regina and be right over.

“Hey, sweetness. I just followed up with the witness Nick tracked down--”

“My water broke, Benny.”

“...Is this a drill?”

“I know that class we took recommended drills, but I was so not into that idea, it seemed alarmist.”

“Fuck-- Okay, I can--”

“It’s okay, Nadia’s on her way to get me. Just meet us at the hospital.”

“The bag’s--”

“Next to the door, I know, Benny.”

“Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky little laugh because you’re a little freaked out right now.

“It’s gonna be alright, sweetness,” He adds gently, “You sure you don’t want me to come and get you?”

“It’s alright, Nadia’s closer. I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetness.”

--

“She’s so small.”

“...Can’t tell if that’s you or the drugs talking, sweetness.”

“Shush. I’m just… I am just saying… She’s frickin’ tiny.”

“Babies usually are.”

“Stop ruining this for me.”

Borracho chuckles, pushing your hair back from your forehead and pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours. The two of you peer down at your sleeping daughter together, quiet for a few moments.

“Malia Rose Magalon,” You murmur. It’s the first time you’ve said her name aloud.

“...Lia’s got a very tiny nose,” Borracho mumbles.

You’re quiet for a moment before you glance up at him.

“Literally what was I just saying about her being small?”

--

When the guys come by to see you in the hospital, they have a gift bag with them.

“Guys, what even?” You nod to it.

“Well, you know those bets we had on… Whether or not you were pregnant, boy or girl, that kinda thing…” Henderson lists.

“Uh huh,” You nod.

“Here,” Nick sets the bag on the bed. Borracho carefully lifts Malia out of your arms, shushing her as she whines. You reach into the bag, pushing aside the tissue paper.

“We agreed that the pool money could all go to a… Better cause than usual,” Connors rubs at the back of his neck. You pull out a jar that’s filled with cash, labeled, ‘College Fund’.

“Figured we’d get you guys started,” Zapata adds, tucking his hands into his pockets.

There’s a moment of quiet in the room before Nick laughs, “She’s crying, pay up!”