#this is... bleh thought dump but also something that really sticks out to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

invisibleraven · 1 year

Text

Phantom Carols

For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Fabulous Outfits

Day Twenty: Drawn To You <-AO3!

When Flynn first got the assignment to be Carrie Wilson’s personal designer, she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Carrie was an already established star who had won several best dressed awards. But her regular designer was retiring, and she wanted someone new, fresh. An up and comer to give her wardrobe a new life.

And somehow Flynn landed the job.

She mocked up a few designs, some for every day, some for awards, some for her shows. While she wanted to give them to Carrie directly, she was in the middle of recording her next album, so it was Kayla, Carrie’s manager who gratefully accepted the drawings.

“I’ll let you know what she likes and get you a team to start production.”

Only a week later, Kayla came back with all the drawings, dumping them on Flynn’s desk unceremoniously. “She doesn’t like them. Also she needs some stuff for her Christmas special next month.”

“Did she say what she didn’t like?” Flynn asked. “I can’t just work from dislike.”

Kayla shook her head. “She’s picky about what she wears.”

“I based all of these on stuff I’ve seen her wear!” Flynn protested. “I thought she wanted something familiar but new?”

“I guess this was a bit too new,” Kayla replied with a shrug. “Just… try again.”

So Flynn did. Tweaking and re-tweaking her previous designs, doing some more out there stuff just to gauge if Carrie wanted something really new. Then, in frustration, she pretty much copies the outfit she’s seen Carrie wear to several interviews.

That design was the only one not to come back.

Flynn growled, crumpling up the designs, tossing them into the trash. She was half tempted to storm down to the recording studio and demand Carrie tell her why she had even hired her. Why demand newness when all she wanted was a rehash of everything she already had?

Instead she went down to the break room, poured herself a giant mug of coffee, grabbed some snacks, and enjoyed them on the balcony overlooking downtown. Pulls out her sketchbook and draws herself an outfit, bold lines and patterns, a funky hat to top it off. Then a complimentary outfit that she would die to put Carrie in. Full of slashes and deep cuts that would catapult her out of her bubble gum image, a lot more punk rock than princess.

“I love that,” a voice says from behind her.

Flynn turns, and there she is; Carrie Wilson. In simple sweats and an oversized tee. She motions to the chair next to Flynn and is waved over, though Flynn is certain her jaw is on the floor. “You have anything else like that?”

Flynn flips through her sketches, some of them the early versions of drawings Carrie’s already rejected, others more avant garde pieces that she knew would never fly.

“Wow, you’re really good. Much better than whoever they hired to replace Sonya. The only drawing they gave me was a copy of my least favourite interview outfit,” Carrie says, scrunching her nose in an admittedly adorable fashion.

“You mean… you didn’t get the rest of my designs?” Flynn asks. “I gave Kayla at least twenty of them.”

Carrie looks shame faced for a moment and then shakes her head. Flynn sighs with annoyance and relief before pulling them both up, bringing Carrie to her office. Smooths out each of her crumpled sketches, and delights as the pop sensation adores each and every one.

“Why didn’t I get any of these?” she wonders. “This is exactly what I was looking for! Something to shake my image up, just a little.” She turns to Flynn. “I am truly sorry for everything. I’ll get it sorted and get a team down to help you make all these.”

“What about your Christmas special?” Flynn asked.

“Bleh, don’t remind me,” Carrie said, sticking out her tongue. “I trust you to make me something fabulous, no need to run it by me.”

Flynn grinned, the ideas already forming in her head. Pulling out her sketchbook and already starting to design, lost in the world of her own creations. But she didn’t exactly complain when Carrie asked to stay and watch her design the outfit, peering over Flynn’s shoulder so close that she could smell the appley scent of her shampoo.

Kayla came in later, and was surprised to see Carrie lounging on Flynn’s couch, tapping away on her phone while the two of them debated the hottest Marvel Chris (they both agreed it was Evans, despite their respective queerness). “Carrie? Aren’t you supposed to be recording now?”

“I finished that this morning. Went to get a snack, met Flynn. Why did you not give Janine all of her designs?”

“I did,” Kayla said. “She passed them back and told me you didn’t like them.” Understanding washed over everyone’s faces. “I’ll go deal with that then,” Kayla gave Carrie a tiny smile. “You both can be wrong about the hottest one not being Hemsworth.”

“At least she didn’t say Pratt,” Flynn muttered as she went back to drawing.

By the time of Carrie’s Christmas special, she had a bevy of beautiful outfits, and their equally gorgeous designer on her arm for the red carpet. Wearing the first outfit that had drawn her to Flynn, and looking radiant.

Flynn still thought she might need to pinch herself, but when Carrie turned that gorgeous smile on her, she stalled. Because if this was a dream? Well Flynn wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #flarrie #jatpadvent2022 #julie and the phantoms

9 notes · View notes

bistephs · 3 years

Text

anyways y’all know how much i love under the hood / lost days but even with them it’s very clear how jason’s characterization as the “bad” robin is inseparable from his characterization post-resurrection. like i love red hood jason, i think he’s an incredibly interesting and compelling character, but even the “good” post-crisis red hood stories still depend so much on the reader accepting that jason was the violent, reckless robin, the robin with the “mean streak”, the robin who never deserved to be robin. the idea that jason was the “bad” robin and that that’s what led to him becoming red hood is so entrenched in red hood jason’s characterization (both post-crisis and n52) that it’s honestly hard to imagine what his character would look like without it.

#dc #jason todd #this is... bleh thought dump but also something that really sticks out to me #ok like. for example #one of the things i think lost days did really well w/ this (and i do think lost days did better with robin!jason than utrh)#is showing that jason's grudge against tim comes entirely from the fact that he sees tim as proof that bruce didn't care about him #because not only did bruce not kill joker but he also (seemingly) immediately replaced jason right after his death #jason doesn't give a shit about tim himself he cares that tim represents the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with bruce #and then you have the titans tower incident which is like... the opposite #iirc raven explicitly says at the end that jason was motivated purely by wanting to prove himself better than tim and bruce #which if you accept the 'bad robin' characterization- as opposed to tim & dick as the Good Robins- makes sense #jason was the robin who failed and he wants to prove himself better than the Good Robins and is jealous of them being Good Robins #but alas they are still innately better than him the Bad Robin and he can never measure up to them and that makes him Evil Crazy idk #like. for the record i have no problem with jason straight up hating tim #ESPECIALLY if it was portrayed as like. explicitly misdirected anger towards bruce that jason is projecting onto tim #despite tim having nothing to do with the drama between jason and bruce besides being The Symbol Of Bruce Not Caring About Jason #but as it is it's portrayed as jason being jealous that tim's better than him #which is again a characterization based off of the readers already having accepted that tim IS a better robin than jason was #and it's honestly really frustrating to still have all these character traits that are just entrenched in red hood jason at this point #that come from his 20 yr character assassination following his own violent death #like again. TO BE CLEAR. i am not saying every bad thing jason has ever done is just Bad Characterization #i'm saying that the reasoning behind a whole lot of his characterization (even the parts that i like!) are based on him being The Bad Robin #it's just frustrating! it's frustrating that this is something we're apparently Never Getting Away From #bc without it so much of his character and reasoning just doesn't make sense anymore

102 notes · View notes

cakesunflower · 4 years

Text

Two’s A Party [C.H. One Shot]

A/N: So basically I read this sentence prompt that went “If you don’t get turned on by having your neck kissed, something’s wrong with you” and instantly thought of Calum and viola this was born. Funny how I was legit talking to @5sosnsfw last night about how writing smut is so bleh and then I wrote this about 24 hours later. Calum just does it to me, man.

This is written in 2nd person which I rarely ever do in a proper one shot so enjoy it while it lasts LMAO. This is all just smut/situations leading up to it.

It’s only about 4k words so...... Happy reading!

The party had died down around two-thirty in the morning, your apartment engulfed in a pleasant, calm lul as opposed to the enjoyable rowdiness your friends brought with them. Besides, it wasn’t even a party, per se. More so a get together with your closest friends where you watched movies, ate lots of food, played board games, and drank even more alcohol. It was a fun way of winding down from the week and getting ready for the weekend, jobs and other adulting commitments making it difficult for you to see your friends as often as you’d like.

Especially those who didn’t stick around for too long, given their lifestyle, vastly different from your own, had them constantly traveling.

“Are you still going?”

Your eyes flickered away from the TV, which was playing an episode of Vampire Diaries—you weren’t sure why; you vaguely remembered one of your friends wanting to watch an episode just for Ian Somerhalder—and you looked up at Calum emerging from the hallway. He was eyeing the glass of wine you were sipping from, his own eyes a bit glassy from the hits he’d taken, curls ruffled a top his head as he slowly made his way over to you.

He was the last one still at your place, the rest of your friends having climbed into their Ubers after bidding goodnight, and you didn’t mind at all. You loved Calum’s company, sober or otherwise, and you didn’t have to tell him he was welcome to stay over for him to know.

You lowered the glass after swallowing the bittersweet sip, a lazy, tipsied smile gracing your lips. It was your second glass of wine—thought that was after a round of ill advised shots Luke wanted to take and a couple of hits from one of your other friend’s pen. You weren’t drunk, but a pleasant, enjoyable buzz hummed through your veins and tickled your skin. Your head kind of felt heavy on your shoulders, nothing you weren’t used to, but it was a welcome feeling.

“Don’t judge me in my own home,” you responded, watching as Calum snorted as he stepped over you. You were sitting on the ground, on a floor cushion that was softer than your couch, back against it as you absently watched the show with a throw blanket on your lap.

You felt the couch subtly move behind you, hearing Calum grunt gently as he laid down, legs dangling over one side of the arm rest as his head rested on the couch near where yours was as you remained seated. “Why’re you sitting on the floor?” Calum asked, voice raspy and just a little bit muffled due to his cheek pressed against the couch.

You licked your lips, tasting the wine, wondering if you should pour some more as you drawled, “Why are you asking so many questions?”

You knew why, of course. He wasn’t entirely sober, and whether he was drunk or high—especially high—it was when every question that ran through Calum’s mind was voiced. His need to know things always took over, asking, asking, asking. And you were always patient with him, always answering, wanting to do your best to feed his hunger of knowing. That’s how it also worked when you told him about the classes you were currently taking in grad school, and he asked you about the lectures and readings. He couldn’t go back to school like he wanted, not yet anyway, so you let him live vicariously through you. Calum always did the same when you asked about his life on the road, the wanderess in you never silenced.. Give and take, always.

Calum was silent for a few moments, the only sound in your apartment coming from the TV as the show continued on. You watched with slightly hooded eyes, unable to truly focus. At this point, you may be more tired than high. But you wanted to enjoy Calum’s company for as long as you could.

“Can I ask you another question?” he finally spoke up, the lazy drawl in his deep voice enticing. When you hummed in response, Calum asked, “What the fuck is sexual abandonment?”

You let out a groan, throwing your head back, just barely grazing Calum’s side where he lay as you felt and heard him chuckle at your reaction. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as thoughts of your ex flashed through your mind, more annoyed than pained. There was no love lost, but Calum was really blowing her shit right now. “Listen, shut up. I can’t believe I dated someone who used that as a reason to break up,” you huffed, straightening your head with a shake of it. Calum’s chuckles were deep behind you, all too amused, as your face scrunched up at the mere thought of your ex-boyfriend. He really had said he was dumping you because of sexual abandonment. You figured that’s why you’d never date a law student again. Or someone named Greg. You snorted as you raised your glass of wine. “I’m surprised he didn’t sue me.”

That only had Calum laughing harder, your smile growing as you swallowed your wine and looked over your shoulder. He was pressing his face on the couch cushion, shoulders shaking from his raspy laughter, and you could see the crinkles by his eyes as he did so. He was fucking adorable.

You bit your smiling lower lip, forcing yourself to look away from him and back at the TV screen, face scrunching up once again in distaste as you sounded disapprovingly, “Ugh.”

“What?” Calum questioned through a somewhat squeaky and endearing voice as his laughter dissolved into chuckles, taking a breath to calm himself down.

“That,” you answered, pouting at the TV as you watched one of the characters kiss the other’s neck, the recipient of it looking far too much like she was enjoying it. You couldn’t relate. “Not fun. Does absolutely nothing.”

From behind you, you heard Calum let out a disbelieving scoff, and without even looking at him you could hear the frown he wore as he said, “If you don’t get turned on by having your neck kissed, something’s wrong with you, doll.”

You finished off your wine with a roll of your eyes, putting the glass on the coffee table and blinking back some focus as you realized you put it a bit too close to the edge and pushed it further to the center of the table. Settling back against the couch, you informed your Australian friend, “No one I’ve ever been with has turned me on by kissing my neck. Either they just suck at it, or something really is wrong with me.”

Calum clicked his tongue in disapproval, and you felt his right arm wind around you, settling across your collarbones as he remained behind you. You enjoyed his warmth, the closeness not unfamiliar, until he shifted and you felt his lips brush along the shell of your ear as he murmured lowly, “They didn’t know what they were doin’. You need someone who does.”

Either you were drunker than you initially thought, or this was starting to take a turn you hadn’t been prepared for. Still, the sound of his husky voice sent a shiver down your spine, stomach flipping excitedly as you played with him for a brief moment, perhaps as a way of testing to see if you were right about the direction this was headed in. “Let me know if you find anyone willing.”

The hand that was wrapped around you was settled near the nape of your neck, throat working when Calum dragged a finger along the side of it in a featherlight touch. “Already have.”

Yeah. This was definitely going where you realized you desperately wanted it to go.

You inhaled deeply, the anticipation suddenly buzzing your veins more than any of the drinks had, biting the inside of your lower lip as Calum hummed, “Come up here, yeah?”

You moved without much thought, getting up from the floor to scoot up to the couch as Calum had moved, the blanket falling to the floor. Without having you face him, he had you settled between his legs, relaxed, hands settling at the juncture of your thighs where the heat of his touch seeped through the thin material of your leggings. Your heart was thundering your chest, in overdrive as you breathed in the scent of his familiar cologne deliciously mixed with the faint scent of weed, feeling Calum sit up behind you as his chest pressed against your back.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, voice all too enticing, “just watch your show.”

It had been challenging to focus on the damn show before; did he really think you’d be able to now?

Still, you did as he said, ridding of any tension built from anticipation as you leaned into his sturdy chest, gaze on the show playing on the TV as you felt the first soft pressure of Calum’s lips. He started on your left side, where your neck met your shoulder, and you reveled in the coincidence of your decision to wear a tank top tonight.

Calum’s movements were slow, purposeful, as he pressed close mouthed kisses, starting a trail leading up the side of your neck, and each touch of his soft lips against your skin had you lightly biting your bottom lip. It was embarrassing how the sensation of his lips already had you realizing that, yeah, this was better than anyone else who’d ever tried this on you.

His hands were on your hips, teasingly sliding to the juncture of your thighs, the brush of his fingers flipping your stomach desirably. You weren’t oblivious to the way your heart was picking up its pace, already starting to find it difficult to focus on a bunch of vampires on the TV screen as Calum’s lips reached the spot where your jaw and neck met. The added sensation of his stubble scratching gently against the previous kissed spots, along with the tickling brush of his curls, had you biting your tongue as you tried to keep your breaths steady.

The wine that buzzed in your veins only heightened everything you were feeling, taking in a soft breath when Calum teased your skin with a nibble. Your eyes fluttered as his kisses trailing down started slowly becoming more intense, more playing with your skin with the use of his teeth and tongue, heart leaping in your throat when he chuckled against you. You felt his deep, quiet laughter in his chest against your back. With a squeeze of your hips, Calum murmured, “I can tell you’re already enjoying this.”

You didn’t want to give in too easily—give into what, you weren’t sure—despite leaning your head back just a little against his shoulder, hooded eyes still on the TV as you breathed, “Only a little.”

Calum, of course, took that as a challenge.

He scoffed lightly, bringing his left hand up to cup your right jaw, turning your face towards his as he lifted his head to look at you. The distance between you two was practically nonexistent, and you wondered if his dark, blown out pupils were because of whatever high he may be riding or because of what he was doing to you. You knew yours damn well had to do with him.

There was a boyish, wicked smirk growing on his lips, his hand warm against your cheek, thumb brushing along your lower lip as he leaned in close. You tried to ignore the way your heart jumped when Calum’s lips brushed against yours, just barely, so close but not entirely, as he whispered arrogantly, “You’re a shit liar.”

And then his head was ducking once more, and this time as his lips trailed to your collarbone, you felt the newfound passion behind his kisses—one that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

The enticing burn of his stubble was soothed by the warm press of his lips, only to be teased unforgivingly with his teeth and tongue as he bit and sucked at your skin, determined to leave marks you both knew you’d wear proudly. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes still on the TV but not at all in focus, head leaned back to willingly give Calum access. Your right hand gripped the edge of the couch, digging into the soft material, while the other had a mind of its own and reached up to bury your fingers in the back of Calum’s head, lost in the strands of his curls.

He took his time with the kisses, never dialing back on the fervor, knowing just how much he was picking up your heart rate as he felt your body react to him. It drove him crazy, hearing the small gasps and sharp inhales you sounded every time he added a new mark to paint your skin with, wondering if you could feel just what you were doing to him, too. You could.

Calum’s hand that was gripping your jaw shifted, just a fraction, enough to allow for his thumb to slip past your lips, grip on your thigh tightened when you, without hesitation, wrapped your lips around the thumb and sucked. “Fuck,” Calum groaned breathily, lips dragging on your skin as you didn’t even try to hide the smirk that threatened to grow.

He kissed another mark he left on you before lifting his head, lips no longer on your skin and thumb no longer in your mouth. Your eyes met his dark ones, his no longer glazed from the weed but solely because of you, barely giving you a chance to let out a breath as Calum used the hand that held your jaw to turn you towards him more, closing the gap as his lips that had been teasing your neck for God knows how long finally met yours in a searing, toe curling kiss.

The two of you moved, lips never leaving one anothers as you turned to straddle Calum where he sat, the TV in the background drowned out by the sounds of your sharp breathing as you kissed, suddenly feeling a bit too constrained by the clothes that you both wore. You felt yourself easily getting lost in the feel of Calum’s lips against yours, working perfectly as the kiss deepened and the tongue that had been teasing your neck effortlessly slid against yours. Your fingers gripped the hem of Calum’s shirt, and he easily got the message as he reached behind to grip the material off his back and lift it off of himself completely, the kiss breaking for a brief moment that you used to take off your own tank top.

You grinned lazily at the sight of his unruly curls, messed up by your own fingers and the act of taking off his shirt, biting down on your lower lip as you noticed Calum watching you watch him. The incredulity of this whole situation wasn’t lost on either of you, but it wasn’t something you wanted to think about. That would come later.

So for now, Calum wrapped his arms around your waist before getting up effortlessly with your legs around him, smirking at the startled exclaim that fell past your lips as Calum lowered you onto your back on the couch, getting on his knees above you. Reaching your hand forward, you gripped the pendant of the necklace he wore, tugging him down to connect your lips once more, mouth craving to slant against his as Calum eagerly returned the kiss. He used one hand to plant by your head to keep himself above you, the fingers of the other digging under the band of your leggings and panties and giving them a quick tug downwards.

You couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips as you helped him in taking off the offending materials, the kiss breaking as he sat up to rid himself of his own pants. Both of your movements weren’t as frenzy as the pace of your heats, taking your time in ridding the clothes despite the pressing urge to once again close the gap between the two of you.

You looked up at Calum, your breathing heavy, as he sat on his knees between your legs, gaze never leaving yours as he rolled on the condom he’d taken out from his wallet. You wondered if his lips once again craved yours, wondered if his felt electric from the kisses shared while yearning for more, admiring the pinkness of his mouth from treating you so well.

There was a heat firing up your body as Calum openly admired you as well, laying bare all for him. Did he also find this turn of events unexpected? Was he also grateful things had taken this path, just like you were? Because fuck it if you never imagined getting to be with him like this, savoring every piece of him for as long as you could.

He leaned down to kiss you again, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his chest press against yours, gasping into his mouth when his finger teased your slick folds. Calum’s lips curled into a smirk, the rasp of his voice chilling as he groaned at your wetness and mused, “No one could’ve turned you on like this except for me, doll.” Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails sensually dragging across his skin as he added another finger into you. “Always remember that.”

As if you could ever forget.

You were lucky that Calum took mercy on you, hearing the whimper you released and he swallowed amidst your kiss, pumping his fingers a few times, dragging them against your walls, admiring your tightness before pulling them out and teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. Being verbal wasn’t something you found yourself capable of, all of the sensations starting from the second Calum had pressed his lips to your neck to now overwhelming you, but you knew Calum and you knew he would wait until you gave him the go ahead.

So you kissed him, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth, the press of his chest against yours syncing your heartbeats, as you begged, “Please, Cal.”

He reveled in the moan you let out as he buried himself inside of you, the kiss breaking as your eyes shut and head tilted back at the sensation of him filling you. Calum dropped his lips to your throat, curls and eyelashes brushing against your skin as he squeezed his own eyes shut at the feel of you around him, snug and right. He cursed under his breath, guttural and blissed, feeling the confirming squeeze you gave his bicep a moment later that allowed him to create a pace that effortlessly drove you both crazy.

One leg on the couch while the foot of the other planted itself on the ground, Calum so easily hit that spot that had your heart jumping and head dizzying. You were overwhelmed by him; by him filling you up so well, by his lips on your throat, by the hand that wasn’t holding him up reaching between the two of you so his thumb could toy with your clit.

Calum lifted his head, taking in the flush of your cheeks and blissed out look in your eyes as you looked up at him through a hooded gaze, and he couldn’t be more entranced if he tried. He smirked breathlessly, nipping at your lower lip, grunts falling past his throat as he praised, “Take me so well, baby. How’s it feel knowin’ only I can get you like this?”

You let out a sharp breath, the urge to feel his lips against you strong as you confirmed breathlessly, “So good,” before kissing him like your life depended on it because, honestly, it felt as though it did.

The familiar coil in the pit of your stomach tightened as Calum kept his pace, thumb still circling your clit, and you knew that Calum knew you well enough at this point. You didn’t realize how well until he urged, “Let go, baby.”

Stars exploded behind your eyelids as you felt yourself do just that, the satisfied, blissed out sounds you let out music to Calum’s ears as his own release soon followed, burying his head in the crook of your neck so you could feel the press of his lips and scratch of his stubble. Even the pendant of his necklace dragging across your skin sent shivers down your spine, the mix of all these heavenly sensations taking over in the best way possible.

Your breathing was labored, as was Calum’s, whimpering softly as he pulled out of you and rid of the condom in the makeshift garbage bag made from one of the empty takeout bags. Calum then picked up the blanket and you lazily shifted over as much as you could towards the back of the couch, letting Calum settle next to you—though you ended up a bit on top of him. Neither of you minded.

You stared up at the ceiling, willing your heart to calm down as you reveled in the warmth of Calum’s bare body against yours in the minimal space your couch offered. The blanket reached up far enough to cover your chest, Calum’s toes just barely peeking out from the other end. He’d propped his head on the armrest, your own laying against his chest as his fingers lightly trailed up and down your arm as his own stayed wrapped around your shoulders. The TV was still on, as was that damned show, though neither of you paid it any attention. How could you, when you’d just done what you did?

Your stomach was still fluttering, lips electric, biting them before breaking the silence between you two. “So I guess nothing was wrong with me. Everyone else just sucked.”

Calum let out a deep chuckle at that as his fingers that had been dancing on your arm trailed over to your neck, brushing against the sensitive spots that were blooming into the bruises he’d intentionally left. Voice a low murmur, the smirk ever present, he responded smugly, “I know.”

You scoffed, lightly smacking his chest with the back of your hand, earning another laugh from him. Reaching your hand up, you took Calum’s that was trailing along your neck and played with his fingers, a thought popping in your head as you bit the inside of your cheek. Watching your fingers play with his, you dared yourself to hum, “Know what I’ve been wondering?”

He allowed you to pull off one of his silver rings before taking it between his fingers and sliding it over your thumb, the only place it’d fit. “What’s that?”

You took a silent breath, preparing yourself as the anticipation started building up without much doing. Tilting your head, you looked up to meet Calum’s curious gaze, his eyebrows quirking at the not-so-innocent smirk tilting at your lips. “If the rumors about your head game are true.”

His eyes darkened and you knew you had his attention—not that you’d ever lost it. And when your smirk widened, biting your lip, Calum’s own wicked one came out to play, already pulling off the blanket to make his way towards your sensitive heat. Your heart jumped, gasping as he got to his knees on the floor and gripped your hips to turn your body towards him, smirking up at you from between your legs as he taunted, “Only one way to find out.”

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @loveroflrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @tea4sykes @wildflowergrae

2K notes · View notes

narutowtfareyoudoing · 4 years

Text

Morning Coffee.

So I once got a lovely message from an anon that said they like to read what I write while they make coffee in the morning and it gave me the idea for some cute mini scenarios. If you're out there anon this is for you, I don't know your favourite characters so I just went with some of mine. --- Kakashi Hatake:

With no alarm clocks in this house it's usually the sun vengefully hitting you in the eyes that wakes you and unfortunately this morning is no different if anything the sun is even more evil today. Blinking your eyes open you don't even wanna look at a the clock but you do wanna look over at Kakashi, it's good to actually see him sleeping in bed you've caught him one too many times reading into the hours of the morning instead of sleeping. Gosh he's cute. You sigh and stretch as you get up, bones popping and a whine escaping you as you do, your feet find the floor and you force your tired body up not caring for the blankets that cling to you. Kakashi's developed an iron grip to fight your blanket stealing ways so you know it's not going anywhere. You shuffle your way from the bedroom to the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you go and though the journey's not far you lean against the counter when you reach it and yawn and then you look to the next feat of your adventure and decide if it's worth it...bending down to grab the coffee grinds, who put them down there? It had to be Kakashi because you would never sabotage yourself like that. Everything in your body groaned and creaked as you bent down into the cupboard to grab it but you were rewarded with the smell of coffee as you opened the container and dumped a few scoops into the coffee maker and silently thanked Kakashi for always putting in a filter after throwing out the old one. You and Kakashi both knew you could afford a much nicer coffee maker than the one you had but it had gotten the job done for years, why replace what isn't broken? You sigh as you realize you have to fill it with water, will these trails of survival never end? You shuffle yourself over to the sink to fill the coffee maker and finally, finally! You're able to push the on button. You lean on the counter and listen to the hissing and gurgling of your precious machine ah music to your ears little did you know it was also music to Kakashi's unconscious ears. The familiar sound rouses him awake and much like you he feels every ache in his bones as he stretches and shuffles himself to his feet as he walks through the left open bedroom door he's greeted by the sight of you. It's a good sight, no matter how messy the hair, how tired the eyes or how hunched over you are seeing you brings a smile to his face as does the coffee you're making. He sneaks over and with too much delight for this morning hour snatches the cup from your hands. "Hey!" "Morning." He chimes back taking a sip of coffee. "That's mine!" You snap as you try to grab it from him but he quickly moves. "Careful, you'll make me spill." He teases. "You don't even like my coffee! You're a black coffee freak!" You complain. "That's not a very good way to convince me to give it back." "Give it back or I ban reading books in bed." The coffee is back in your hands. "You don't fight fair." He sighs and pours his own coffee as you finally get a sip of yours and feel your muscles relax with the delicious slightly burnt taste. "It's before my first cup of coffee I don't have to fight fair." You point out. "Is that in the Shinobi handbook?" He teased. "Oh yeah, first page." You tease back. He hmmed in response as he takes another sip and soft silence hangs in the air and he's once again reminded of how happy he is to have you as apart of his mornings even with all the teasing. He comes cover behind you and wraps his free arm around your stomach and rests his tired head on your shoulder and relishes in the way you affectionately nudge him with your own head. With all the work Shinobi do these moments feel increasingly rare and so you two just silently bathe in the warmth of the moment together, letting the tiredness wrap around you and make the moment nearly euphoric. That is until there's loud knocking on your door that knocks you out of the moment and almost costs you your coffee cup. "We know you're in there Kakashi-sensei! We've been waiting for hours at the training grounds!" A tiny voice shouted. "Kakashi." You scolded. "In my defense it's your fault. You did keep me up last night." He teased kissing your neck. And for a moment you enjoy the tingling sensation that radiates throughout your body but only for a moment until loud knocking once again loudly booms through your apartment. "We're counting to ten and then we're gonna break down the door!" "You think I can bribe kids with coffee?" He pondered "Kakashi, if they break my door you're never reading in this apartment again." You said pointedly. "Oh, so it's your door?" He teasingly sighed as he put down his coffee. "It's my door the same way it's my fault for keeping you up late." You said sarcastically. You walked over to the bedroom door as he walked over to the front and grabbed his mask from the handle and slingshoted it at his ass making him jump. He looked over at you with an eyebrow cocked as he picked it up. "You're not making a good case for me to open the door." He pointed it out as he slipped it on. "Save my door or else I can't be held responsible for what happens to the books in my room." The door was opened just before the kids hit zero saving your door, Kakashi's books and what was left of your coffee. ---

Gaara:

Gaara is always up before you even without Shukaku he doesn't really sleep, he'll lay with you at night if there's time but typically with all the duties of being a Kage there isn't time. However there's always time in the morning for iced coffee and breakfast together. This morning was no different, in the Sunagakure heat little was tolerable to eat other than something cold so iced coffee and fresh fruit salad is was as usual. Living in the desert doesn't often lend itself to fresh fruit but with Gaara cultivation of cacti he grew many different types of prickly pear so in the early morning sun he went out to collect some. Some may see this as a daily chore but it's apart of Gaara's day he thoroughly enjoys, it's a simple constant in his life to harvest the fruits of his labour and share them with you and just that thought brought a rare smile to his face. So many hours of his day are devoted to the people of Sunagakure but in these early morning hours they're just for the two of you and it brings some semblance of normality to his life. He looks over his cacti, all the hours he's sunk into these thriving plants and the few plants that aren't cacti that you two planted together, whenever you go out on missions you always return with some kind of new plant of seed for you two to plant in the garden, they stick out like sore thumbs but he loves them and always makes sure they're well tended too. Memories happily trickle through his mind like sand through an hourglass as he uses his sand to gather prickly pears and avoid their spikes. He gathers only what he needs before heading back to your shared home and preparing the prickly pears, it's something domestic he enjoys, it's easy and calming to him and even after all this time the novelty of making breakfast for the both of you hasn't warn off at all. He notices the sound of dragging feet as you make your way over. "Morning, lemme hug you." You yawn tiredly. A warning really isn't needed when you've made no point in trying to hide you whereabouts but you've gotten into the habit from the one time Gaara didn't hear you coming and instead of meeting his body you were met with a wall of protective sand. Your arms wind their way around his middle and you hug him tight from behind and no matter how long you've been together, no matter how deep you've delved into intmacy simple touches like this still make butterflies flutter around his chest. You lean your weight into him as you rest your entire body against him, it's almost comical. "Sleep well?" He asks. "Mhm." You murmur into his back. "Why don't you go sit? I'll bring you breakfast." He offers softly. You shake your head into his back. "I'm good here." You slur. A small chuckle escapes his throat as he nods and continues his work, he's got no great desire to remove himself from you so he simply bathes pleasantly in your presence. As he's cutting the prickly pears into small chunks he notices your hand blindly sneaking over to try and grab a piece. "You're going to grab the husk and poke yourself again, S/O." Gaara gently chastises as he brings his sand up to make a barrier between you and the food. You playfully let out an exasperated groan bringing a small smile to his lips that only grows when you lay a small kiss to the middle of his back where your head lays it blossoms warmth in his chest as you let go since your master plan as been foiled. You decide to set your sleepy sights on coffee, filling glasses with ice and adding sugar and milk to your own and leaving Gaara's black bleh you pour the coffee and bring them over to the small dinning table, taking a sip really helped to pull you out of your hot sleepy state, the cold caffeine tingling your mind awake and into alertness. Not alert enough it would seem as you still jump slightly in surprise as Gaara lays down a plate of cut and cubed prickly pear as sits across from you. "Thank you for the coffee." You gaze up at him and can't help but to smile, your alert brain slowly turning into mush. Gods, he was cute and so sweet, he'd made you breakfast and was thanking you for coffee? Who's this nice in the morning? Just your Gaara. You reach over and hold his hand and he's more than content to hold yours back, to brush his thumb over the the top of your hand and relish in this sweet silence. Most mornings are quiet, Gaara isn't a very chatty man though he's more than happy to listen to anything you have to say but your mornings are filled with content silence, the morning is a time set aside just for the two of you to savour. You'll sit well into the morning, slowly draining your coffee and having your fill of fruit until the day calls you both away but until then little is sweeter than this. Besides your coffee if you ask Gaara. ---

Itachi Uchiha:

Had making tea always been this stressful?! You could pull your hair out you were so nervous. You were nearly never up before Itachi but this morning you were so you decided to surprise him with tea in bed, Itachi has several teas throughout the day, he loves tea so that just made sense to do. What didn't make sense right now? All the possible preparation it took to properly brew tea. If it was too hot you'd burn the tea, too cold the flavour wasn't going be full bodied, what about steeping time? Should you add honey? Milk? Cream? Sugar? Gods, when had this become to complicated? You just wanted to be a good S/O and treat Itachi like he usually treated you in the morning but so far you were just surrounded by tiny cups, put into a Hell of your own making, a beige Hell of different coloured teas with varying amounts of milk and other ingredients. It was the smell that woke Itachi and the first time he noticed was the lack of your presence on his chest, usually this early you're still asleep and drooling tiny rivers onto his chest. He sighs as he slowly sits his aching body up and reaches into his bedside drawer to grab a vial of medicine to make the day a little less painful, it tastes vile as he swallows it and if his nose is telling him anything there's tea ready to help get rid of the foul taste. He slowly gets up and wonder what has you up so early, you usually like to sleep in on the days you two have together if he doesn't wake you he knows you can sleep well into the afternoon which he finds quite cute, the way your face scrunches up when the sun finally hits it and you are clearly awake but attempting to argue with your body over being conscious. It's ridiculous but very endearing. Just like the sight that greets him as he comes into the kitchen. You're standing there in your nightshirt, hair still unbrushed, counter and small dining table covered in tiny teacups. He slightly cocks his head as he takes in the sight, his mind trying to figure out what exactly it is you're doing as he grabs a tea closest to him and he notices how cold it is...so you've been at this for a while. "Feeling insustrious this morning, love?" He softly asks. He's up?! Oh Gods how long have you been doing this? You thought you'd have time to clean, you stutter for your words trying to explain as you look around. "Tea?" You weakly settle on to offer. "Seems like I've got options." He gently teases as he walks over to you. The taste that's left in his mouth is still noticeable and unfavourable but he pushes that aside to check on you and see what's going on in your brilliant mind. He brings a hand up to push the hair on your face aside and presses a soft kiss to your forehead to try and calm the clear panic you're in and you melt into the action. Big black eyes reassuringly stare at you and you can feel the tension leave your shoulders. "Tea?" You offer again grabbing the one you thought you'd done the best on. He takes the Oolong tea from your hands. "Thank you." He says before taking a sip, he can feel your eyes on him as he does and it becomes very clear to him what's going on here. "It's very good." He adds and he watches you beam proudly at the praise. "As I'm sure the rest of them are." He softly adds. And those word do make you realize that perhaps...this had been a silly worry. "I just wanted to make you tea in bed...I know how much you love tea but then I realized how much goes into making tea, like the temperature, the steeping time, the amount of sugarorhoneyormilkor--" You start to wind yourself back up again. "Anything you make me is perfect because you made it for me." He interrupts gently bringing his hand back up to your face to capture your attention. Once again your panic melts into his soft touch and you take a deep breath. "How about we drink on the front porch this morning? I'll deal with this mess once I'm more conscious." You pitch. "Sounds like a good idea." He easily agrees. Itachi moves the hand caressing your face down to lace his fingers with yours and with your free hand you grab one of the many tea's and you both head outside to sit and enjoy the pale blues of the morning sky. You lean yourself into his side as you sit in contentment, there aren't many mornings you get to enjoy with Itachi, he's typically so busy with his work with the Akatsuki so moments like this you let yourself get lost in, you soak up every bit this shared time together offers and save it for the mornings you miss him. Itachi does the same, he's well aware his days are numbered whether it be from his line of work or his illness he's well aware that there is no endless days like this with you so he takes in right now. And right now he's with you, a S/O who loves him so much you panicked yourself with making the perfect tea, right now the love of his life is holding his hand and leaning into his side, your head resting on his shoulder and if he concentrates he can feel your relaxed breathing against his side, he can smell your shampoo, the quiet mmms that escape you every time you take a sip of tea. Right now this moment he's in with you outweighs all the pain and misery he's experienced, who needs forever when moments like this exist for him to live in now? This morning tea was perfect. --- ~Admin Coral Buy Me A Coffee?

281 notes · View notes

naomi-lafleur · 7 years

Text

Funerals and Rebels

A/N: I said ukulele way too many times in this Merci @aliyatyson @mila-regan @niara-aldaine @tracie-beauchamp @sophiaravensfromillea and @haidenschreave for rping. Mentions of @baguette-le-chef and @felix-vladmska

It’s been about two days since the accident. I’ve barely spoken a word to anyone other than the maids, and when I do, it’s always monotone. I wander around the palace aimlessly as I watch distressed maids, drained servants, and a (more than usual) bitter Baguette, scurry all over the place. I walk past a portrait of the royal family and stop. I take my hands out of my dress pocket and set my eyes upon Queen Alize. My mind continuously repeats the same thing over and over and over again.

Dead. She’s lifeless right now because of you. You had the chance to save her, just like how you could’ve saved papa, but no. You’re useless, Naomi. You’re usele-

My thoughts are interrupted by Baguette shouting at the trainees in the kitchen. “Oh mon dieu, Tu me fais chier!” (SOrry if it isn’t accurate) It feels as if the palace is overcast with dark, dreary clouds.

Pull yourself together! You have to look cheerful, as always. It’ll make everyone feel better. Hide the depressed Naomi back inside where she belongs.

I take a deep breathe in, wipe away the tears, and turn around. I put on a fake smile and headed upstairs. Luckily, my maids were not in my room at the moment, so I grabbed my ukulele and hid myself in Viola’s old room.

The funeral was the following day. I hated this feeling. This whole fiasco just reminds me more of my dad. Can I just hide here all day?

The last time I attended a funeral was for my papa. I was only twelve years old at the time. I couldn’t even say the eulogy that I wrote for him, because I was sobbing so much that I couldn’t go on. That following year, my life became a wreck. Maman worked extra hours as a photographer, Etienne got more part time jobs, I couldn’t get any further education… Since I was too young to find any jobs other than making my art, Victoire, Lucien, and I scrounged the house for things to sell. When I turned fourteen, we got desperate. We were forced to sell everything that my dad owned. The only thing that I had left of him, was this ukulele that he handcrafted for my eleventh birthday.

This. This is all I have left of him.

I woke up the next morning to a maid’s shriek. She thought that I had been an intruder. You would’ve thought I killed her cat, considering how loud she screamed. After that little scare, I grumpily walked downstairs to my room, where my maids were worried sick. They all gathered around me and started talking all at once. I stared at the wall and sighed. The chatter died down.

“Zip it, you two! Miss Naomi, are you alright? Your eyes are as red as tomatoes… have you been crying?” I sniffled and gave them fake smile. “Of course I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be? A-And I probably just have allergies.” I said, dismissing her statement. They gave me a slight nod and began to dress me up for the funeral. I ended up wearing a simple black satin and velvet knee high dress, with a pearl necklace. I put on a pair of black heels and head downstairs.

I entered the Great Room, filled with thousands of guests, murmuring quietly. I take a seat beside Mila and Niara. My eyes wander around the room, and see Elaine crying on Haiden’s shoulder. Sadness fills my heart. How could something this tragic happen to such a wonderful family? I suddenly have trouble catching my breathe. I reach my arm out and grab Mila’s hand, which somewhat calms me down. As my heartbeat starts to go back to it’s normal rate, the eulogies begin. For the next 2 hours, I sit there in silence. As everyone cleared out of the room, I sat there unfazed, staring at the photo of Queen Alize.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t prevent this, this tragedy. I feel fortunate enough to have gotten to meet you and I apologize. May you rest in peace.

I felt much brighter the next morning. The cow balloons that I asked Eleanor to order, had finally arrived. I cheerfully walk down the hallways, in search of Haiden.

“Hey Haiden! After hours and hours of searching, I finally found it!“

He looks at me in confusion. “Found… what exactly?”

“Close your eyes first,” I said.

“Happy late birthday! Here are the cow balloons I was talking about,” I explain, referring to the joke I made on his birthday.

“Wow… that’s something. Thanks.”

“So how are you holding up after the incident?” I ask.

“Oh, uh… “ He says hesitantly.

I realize my mistake and apologize. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m so stupid,” I mutter.

“No, you’re not.”

“I should’ve known better than bring up this topic.” I shake my head. “You’ve already got so much to deal with and I’m just making it worse.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really. You can’t really make it much worse.”

“Well if you ever need anyone to talk to, just know I’m always here. I’ve gone through a loss too.” I sigh..”.. not as bad as yours, but it always helps to have someone there.”

We continue to talk, until I change the topic.

“Hmm… are you hungry? I’m craving crepes, and coincidentally, they’re the only recipe I can make without burning the whole kitchen down. Do you happen to be allergic to crêpes?”

“Um, I think I’ll be good. As long as there’s no fire.” Haiden said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty skilled at using a fire extinguisher if I say so myself” I laugh.

“Now I’m nervous.”

I roll my eyes. “If your pants catch on fire, I’ll make sure to blast you with it.”

“Yikes. Let’s do this, then.”

I grab Haiden’s arm and drag him towards the kitchen. “C'mon, let’s go.”

We begin to get the ingredients.. “Okay first we’ll need… *looks in cupboard* Some flour, eggs, salt, sugar, and… butter”

“I don’t trust myself enough for the eggs, so I’ll get the other stuff.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? We got,” I look at the carton. “9 other eggs to experiment with. Come on, just try to crack one.” I say, handing him an egg.

Haiden cracks it, get shells in it, and accidentally drops some out of the bowl. I laugh and start to pick the shells out of the mixture. I hand him a bigger bowl to try again. He does the same thing, but doesn’t spill any of it this time.

“Wow congrats you didn’t spill it this time!” I exclaim, continuing to crack the other two eggs.

“This should go down in history books.”

“Yes, this is a such a monumental moment.” I pretend to tear up.”You will be known as the egg king by the people “

I accidentally crush a shell with my hand and start bleeding. I grab a unicorn band-aid out of my pocket and stick it on my finger. “I know, I know, you don’t have to say it. It’s very fashionable. Okay, you can start measuring the sugar and salt”

“ I was just going to ask why you had one on hand, but I won’t.”

“ You never know when it’ll come handy… but normal band-aids don’t work, only unicorn ones do”

“An exact science, I’m sure.”

“Absolutely. I think next we need the flour…” I struggle to carry the large bag of flour onto the table, and it plops on the table which gets everywhere.

“Haha I think you got a little something on your nose.” I said, gesturing to his nose.

Haiden crinkles his nose and wipes it on my face. “Now you have some”

I grabbed more flour and threw it at him, which turned into a full on war.

“This was a new suit.” He contemplated for a second before grabbing the bag of flour and dumping it on my head.

Nuh uh. He did not just do that

I laugh and grasp onto as much flour as I can from the mountain on my head and charge at him.

“Oh my I’m so sorry” I chuckle. “There was flour in my eyes… hmm I wonder how it got there.” At that moment, I realize that I was still on him, so I blush, roll off, and lay next to him.

“Can we just stay down here all day?” I ask.

“In flour?”

“Well we’re already covered in it. Whats a little more going to do?”

“We could set it on fire”

“I think its hot enough down here already. *pauses* oh god that sounded awful”

He laughs. “It definitely did”

“My bad. Sometimes I need to think these kinds of things through.” I roll onto my side to look at him “…You know you still have something on your nose, right?” I boop his nose.

“You know you still have something… everywhere”

I dust the flour off his cheek and lingered there momentarily. “Yeah, I wonder whose fault that is?”

“Yours”

“I believe that’s incorrect. If I recall you dumped the flour bag”

“Yes, but you dumped it on me which made it substantially worse.”

“Sure buddy. If that’s what you want to believe.”

Why did you call him buddy? Smh Naomi, smh

“That shall be the truth.”

“Is that how the truth works? I always thought differently.”

“Possibly.”

“So while we’re down here, why don’t you tell me a secret?”

“How forward. Uh, a secret… I like my milk first, then my cereal.”

You monster

I pretend to gasp. “That’s not a secret, that’s a sin,” I say matter of factly.

“I keep my sins secret.“

“What other kinds of sins are you talking about? Do you also straight up bite kit kats without breaking them apart?“

“Obviously”

“Haiden Schreave, what kind of man are you? Well, besides one that I like..”

Bleh. You did not just say that, Naomi. Give me a minute while I go puke.

“A threat society, I’m sure”

“ ”*laughs* I doubt that. You’re about as threating as a kitten. Wait aren’t you scared of cats?”

“Um, terrified, yes,” He states.

“You sure are a character, I’ll give you that.”

“You are too, Flour Girl.”

“Thanks, but it’s actually pronounced Lafleur.” I wink.

“Oh, my mistake. Laflour.”

HAHAHAHA DEAD

“So tell me a better secret, Haiden *pauses* What are your feelings for me?”

“What are yours for me?”

“Nonexistent until you tell me yours”

“Ouch.”

“Well, Haiden, I do like you. A lot actually… I just want to know if you return those feelings.” My face turns a bright shade of red.

“Of course I like you, but…”

Here comes the bad news…

I bite my lip. “…but what?”

“You seem like you just see me as a friend, you know?”

Did he just use reverse psychology to friend zone me? Good luck with your cow on the farm, Naomi. You’ll need it.

My lip starts to quiver and I mumble. “C'est dommage… Well, I’m sorry you feel that way”

“Naomi…”

Hide depressed Naomi. Hide her away.

I smile sadly. “It’s LaFlour, remember?”

“Laflour, I apologize. Are you upset with me?”

I stand up, brushed myself off, and wiped a tear away quickly. “ It’s… fine, let’s just finish these crepes. If one thing is going to work let it be these crepes.” I smiled.

“Naomi… LaFlour. You are such a wonderful person. You’re so positive and accepting. Don’t let a stupid boy make you cry.”

Too late

“Just to set the record straight, I don’t think of you as just a friend.” I offer him my hand to pull him up.

He accepts my gesture. “I know. But you still shouldn’t cry over me. Wasted tears. Cry over sad movies and dogs and really, really good food. Just… not over boys or me or anyone because we’re all trash bags.”

You’re not a trash bag, Haiden.

We discuss more about cows and trash, and then finish up the crepes. My heart shattered that night.

This shouldn’t be a surprise. We all knew it was going to happen.

A few days after that, Niara and I were wandering around the palace, when we heard some loud whispers. We turned the corner and, much to our surprise, see Aliya, Sophia, and Tracie.

Niara runs towards them. “What’s going on?’

“Rebel Attack!” Tracie screams.

“I am keeping my promise! No one will get hurt!” Sophia exclaims.

I stare at them in confusion and repeat Niara’s question. “Wait, what is happening?”

Aliya finally acknowledges us and waves awkwardly. “Oh no. Hi Naomi, hi Niara.”

Mila lets out a frustrated sigh and mutters to herself.

“Look, it’s kind of hard to explain, but there’s going to be running a lot of rebels through these halls any moment, and we need you to go the bunkers.” Aliya explains.

Tracie and Sophia continue to fight about attacking.

In a midst of the argument, I interrupt. “Uhhh, so where do we go?”

“Yes bunkers. Fast!” Sophia says.

I cannot make out a word they are saying with everyone talking all at once until Niara grabs my arm. “You’re dying with me, almond.”

Nuh uh. I am not willing to die over here. I already lost my chance with Haiden, so I just want to live a quiet, and peaceful life on a farm with a cow.

“Why you gotta make me die too?” I whine. “That is just rude.”

“There’s a rebel attack Niara,” Tracie says.

Sophia gets frustrated and drags Mila and I away.

Tracie pipes in. “I’m not part of it, by the way.”

“We’re not really trying to hurt anyone, we are getting supplies for the lower caste” Aliya tries to explain.

“Well… uh, I do not want to die,” I say, trying to hurry this along.

I look every which way, trying to make out a sentence in their conversation.

“Haiden is most likely already in the bunker”

“Listen to Niara!”

“Yes Aliya planned it, so it must be right”

“One question,” I ask calmly.

“Yes?” Sophia says.

“WHY ARE YOU GUYS ATTACKING THE PALACE!” I yell.

“GOOD QUESTION” Tracie responds.

The rest seem to ignore me.

“But indeed, the Prince is found more important than the Selected, so that’s why we wanted to check to get you to the bunkers in time.” Aliya says.

“REBELS ARE STUPID”

“Hey don’t call me stupid”

“Finally some common sense”

“How can I know to trust you?”

“Don’t pin it all on me, there’s like a whole team and all”

“Because we spend months together in this Palace? And we are here, and no guards yet”

I put my hands on my forehead. Oh mon Dieu. Is this really the time to be arguing? I grab Niara and Mila.

“LET’S JUST GO GUYS!” I exclaim.

“Naomi! Let go!” Niara screams.

“Thanks Nana. Here we go,” says Tracie.

“DO YOU WANT TO DIE?” I ask.

After much more bickering, we finally agree to go to a safe room.

Suddenly, I get a gut feeling. The realization hits me like a brick.

M-my ukulele

I sprint up the stairs without any warning or hesitation. Niara tries to grab my hand but it fortunately slips out of her grasp. “ALMOND, COME HERE!” She shouts.

If something happens to this ukulele, I will die with it. I will sacrifice my life for this instrument if it’s the last thing I do. I-I can’t lose this.

More and more tears roll down my eyes as I wipe them away. Gasping for air, I finally stumble into my room. I see a Northern Rebel rummaging through all my personal items. They wouldn’t touch my stuff, my ass. My eyes focus on the ground and see the picture of family ripped in half. I see his grimy hands holding my blue ukulele and I lose it.

The whole situation was a blur. I was so focused on getting my stuff back, that I couldn’t remember what happened. All I knew for sure, was that I hook kicked him, which then resulted in him going unconscious. I grabbed all my stuff and headed towards the safe room nearby. As I ran, I heard 2 men, presumably rebels, on my tail. I tried to escape them by turning a corner, but I got shot in the shoulder. I fell to the floor faced down, accepting death.

This is how I’ll die today

Gasping for more air, I heard someone running towards me. I had assumed that it was a rebel, who was going finish me off, but I heard a grunt and a man whispering to himself. I felt the man carry me into the safe room.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. You’re going to be okay, alright? Someone will come save you. Someone wi-”

I tried keeping my eyes opened to see if I knew him, but his voice started to fade off. I heard the door slam, and then I was knocked out.

I woke up in a pitched black room with an aching pain in my left shoulder. In that moment, I remembered everything that happened. With my good arm, I reached out to turn on the lights. The light bulb flickered and lit up the whole room. I looked around, in search of a medical kit.

Beans, water, spare light bulbs, a clock…

I stared at the clock in confusion. I’d been asleep for 2 hours? Eventually I bandaged myself up the best that I could. I covered my bleeding finger with a unicorn band-aid that I had in my pocket and sighed. I sat there, blaming myself for everything.

You saw Cressida… You thought it was your imagination… If you just told someone, the queen wouldn’t be dead! If you hadn’t told papa to go into town and get you more paint… he wouldn’t have died. Everything… is always your fault. Everyone will leave you one day, just like how grandma did… and Viola… and how Haiden will.

I sat in the corner of the safe room in silence. I couldn’t move. The pain from my shoulder was still killing me even more, because I hadn’t been able to get the bullet out alone.

It’s been well over three hours already. Why isn’t anyone saving me?

I start to lose consciousness again.

Just… just wait a few more minutes, Naomi. They… they will come for you. Stay awake. You have to stay awake. You may not wake up this time.

Just as I lose hope and my eyes begin to droop, I hear a loud creaking sound. The bright light shines into the dim room, and I see a man in front of my face.

“Are you alright?”

I recognize him from somewhere. “I-I’m fi- “ My head drops. ”Oh I’m a-alright”

“You’re clearly not.” He carefully puts me in his arms and carries me to the hospital wing. Apparently not gentle enough, because he accidentally brushes my injured shoulder and I yelp in pain.

His eyes widen and then I remember. It’s Felix Vladmska. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s alright. C-can you please get my ukulele and bring me t-to um… to the hospital wing? T-Thank you for sav-saving me.”

My droopy eyes shut and the last thing I remember, is Lavender running towards me.

#this fic sucks #my apologies #selectionoc #challenge 5 #naomi

8 notes · View notes

hgfstreamchats · 5 years

Text

Jason Goes to Hell

Come on Kast... Kast, just once. Just. Once. Hello! Remember when we used livestream and the only thing we had to worry about were the many, many problems inherent in livestream? Hello, night human! I remember it fondly. Those were the days. I still have no audio. Hmmm... is there--yeah, me neither Still no audio? Nope. Still none Oh afts. Mmmmaybe you have something muted in kast itself? I cannot hear the terrible dance. Drat. It's very possible. It went through some kind of hideous update. Great. Glorious. Hmmmm. Nothing? Nothing Nothing. I hear it! there it is! GLORIOUS!

And it just cut out And it's back There. There we are. What was the problem? Wonderful! Emulator nonsense, the usual. Ahhh Look at that pumpkin man go. He's certainly got the music in him. What precisely is this? ohhhhh jeez I'm also wondering Either an underrated found footage film or pure garbage. We're watching now so that if it's filth, we still have time to end the month on a high note. I see... "remember that name" Once again, I already care nothing for these characters! This filming format is so obnoxious. I'm sure there's a totally normal reason he's setting up a camera in his RV like that Whichever one did that is now Smokescreen. Somehow I guess it didn't occur to me that haunted houses would run for more than one day The general idea of the thing sounds fun. I'd do it if I were human or capable of fitting into human buildings. There you go! Just make a found footage film starring me! Just stick your head in, it'll be fine "I'm here, you all figure out the rest." There are outdoor haunts. Or haunted corn mazes. You could possibly attend one of those. Yeah! Just drive around in it As I suspect a maze loses some of its charm when you can just step over the walls Don't tempt me. I'll do it and the Autobot pets will whine to the Autobots. I would tempt you just to get the pets to whine about it. I guess you could also see if someone from one of those universes where they can project holoforms further, is willing to share If I do, I demand a copy of the report so I can frame it. This is how to get kicked off a property. ... yikes I hate them all immensely. So, do you think that these terrible people will die, or just annoy us for an hour and a half? So do they die, or what Ugh. Even the Blair Witch humans weren't this obnoxious. These wretches would fit in with the pretentious Book of Shadow humans. Shut up! ?? Them, not either of you. I feel like even if your conceit is "found footage", you can damn well edit it to only the interesting bits But if we don't see the worthless chaff, then how will we know it's "art"? If they don't stop talking, ever, how else can we be expected to care whether they live or die? And you get that same "wait, why were they even filming this in the first place" feeling At this point, I'm solidly on Team Clown. Ah. So they are being stalked by the actors from the first haunt they pissed off. So spooky. I think so? Why did they... let them in For maximum spooky. "okay this isn't so much 'scary' as 'awkward'" What exactly did they do at the first haunt? I, uh, may have gotten up for a minute to get the kettle If anyone has suggestions for real horror movies that would go down nicely after this, do feel free to throw them out, because we're not touching the sequel with a 40 foot pole. And apparently missed Vital Plot Info (tm) They climbed an unattended ladder, and screeched at the waiting line crowd. Ohhhh. Yeah, not cool Do you want a real good horror movie, or a real silly horror movie? Either, any! Well, there is always Jason Goes to Hell. Or Texas Chainsaw 3D OH! Yes! Either is infinitely more fun than this. Jason Goes to Hell it is! OH WHAT A SHAME IT'S THE END AND THEY'RE DYING. HOWEVER DID THIS HAPPEN. WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED Are they actually dying? Hopefully? BUT THEY'VE LOST NONE OF THEIR USUAL CHARM, CLEARLY. Shaun! Damn it, don't make me laugh when I'm about to drink something Oh no! He got vaguely attacked in the dark. And she got red kool-aide on her sweater. She'll never get those stains out! The true tragedy. The frag would this be filmed? Uh oh, is it time for snakes Why does that one get cushions and kool aide doesn't? ...who's filming that She got a snack instead. I don't despise kool aide like I do beard-face. By all means, none of you try to push out while the dirt is pile on soft and shallow. *piled Oh, shut up. Thank you. I think that was as much of that as we needed to see They didn't have the decency to *die* entertaining. This should be much more entertaining. People die in ridiculous ways. Do you know what irritates me most of all? It had such a compelling title. That's what lured me in. I assumed nothing with a title that good could possibly be bad. If it had been a real documentary on the haunted house industry, then I think it would have been good. It would have been! Yeah, that could have been interesting! This is already more interesting. What a necessary scene, I'm sure It is a horror movie. Jason looks...bloated. He's a bit worse for wear. Comes of being in the lake all that time Oh hey So she was the bait Was that an air strike And then he explodes. That should do it. Graphic design is their passion. It just does this the rest of the movie. The longest mid-credit roll of them all. Ha. Just keep poking it. What I'm getting is that there were just a whole bunch of people who wanted prominence in the credits, and sacrifices had to be made The scale numbers changing is a nice touch Uh Ew ...Huh. I feel bad for that guy This is the Friday movie that was made just after New Line purchased the rights. They... did not know how to make a proper Jason movie. Oh boy o oh Hi! is this a youtube poop Hey! It's Jason Goes To Hell Smokescreen! Woojit! What is this? You barely missed the credits! Oooh! I did it! I came just in time! What you missed: a military op killed Jason, then when the coroner was disecting him, his heart started beating and he possessed the coroner. That's just how it is sometimes! Apparently! Oooh, this is like a scraplet horror fantasy novel I read like, vorns ago It is? Like, the body snatching? Oh! ... are they smoking in the cafe??? is that allowed? Used to be. does everyone do that or is he just doing it because Apparently they're all just...like this? That's how it is. ... Can I smoke in here? I would prefer you did not. Oh, good, important information to be imparted later! I'm sure everyone will survive until then Since when do you smoke, Smokescreen? Well, one or two times, Wheeljack gave me something and it wasn't bad! "haha just a joke, only like eighty people have died there" This certainly is how people talk. Uh. Ugh. I mean, I wouldn't want to be in the tent after whatever slag they're getting int-oh "I'll just sleep outside and listen." Like any good friend on an awkward camping trip. Of course. Nothing says "third wheel" like being the one who gets to sleep OUTSIDE the tent, half-naked You'd think they might have brought an extra tent. Sometimes, you just want to frag a tree .....*What?* Not everyone has your love of plant life, Smokescreen. What? NO I didn't mean it like that! Like... Some humans really are tree huggers? Nothing wrong with tree-fraggin! . . . . There was a human in the last film that frags pumpkins. We thought of you. Woojit, I'm gonna find an owl movie just for you. It won't be anywhere near as painful as said last movie. Unless it is a found footage owl movie. "nah, we don't need a condom, we're not surviving the movie anyway" w Primus, was the last movie THAT bad? It was wretched. Just intolerable. From what we saw, it seemed to be about 10 minutes of plot drawn out into an hour and a half of movie With zero (0) likeable characters I have to admit, this wasn't really what I was expecting This movie's just all over the place. Oh dear. It's the worst Friday movie. But still entertaining in a terrible way. No, I don't know why this is happening. That is definitely how reflections work. Magic! Wait, this is a friday movie? Yes. Jason Goes to Hell, part 9. Oh, I thought all Jasons were just like that. ... I saw a Jason movie with a bot not that long ago, huh! So... did he shave him out of like... vanity? he didn't want a moustache? christ The classic 'A body swapped Jason killed that lady' misunderstanding. Agent Scully! Man, how many people do you think were like "jason swapped bodies with me :(" in court ..... is jason the baby No? Oh so that's the asshole bounty hunter or whatever Now I want, no, need Jason to be the baby. I know, right? With a tiny, baby sized knife and hockey mask? What the hell is wrong with this guy Who doesn't enjoy breaking fingers to pay off the exposition dump? Man, I'm pretty sure I would've gotten kicked out the autobots and broken everyone's fingers if I broke someone's fingers everytime I started expositioning It sounds like a Soundwave method more than anything. Yep. Its name is Jason. I hope he didn't just taste that Facebook Oh good, the Necronomicon See, because it had a face in the cover-- How did he manage to steal a body? what the fuck Hopefully HE'LL--yep, guess so! Bleh Well, that takes care of that. She's crying because her shower stream is so weak. Kidnap her. Women love that. I feel like maybe he could have accomplished more by calling her from jail or something Instead of all these shenanigans oh UGH UGH. UGH. Are you not entertained? Uh oh Hah! ...Did that do it? Did the right person kill him? Nope. Ah Jason was more interesting when he only cared about his mother and his lake. I did mention this was worst Friday movie. ...I'm not sure that WAS him I mean, Jason hasn't actually... talked, so far It was a terrible worm thing, this whole time. I didn't think he could downgrade from the spaghetti-gut rotting corpse but here we are. Ohhhh shit There he is! I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that Oh what that pit sure came in handy Not the puppet hands! And there you have it. What a twist, kind of! Well! Still better nonsense than the last one. A marked improvement. And to think I thought this movie was going to be about him going to hell and, I don't know, stabbing demons or something. You're not the only one. I want a toyota beef! That would have been more fun, and that's not allowed. Hehehe. TWO things are wrong in the picture! ... isn't the kid pushing floating The boy is floating! What What. ... Does primus does primus have a good question doesn't he hang out on tumblr? you could ask him next time you see him Oh yes, that sounds like a good idea. That won't go wrong, I'm sure. Technically I didn't say it was a good idea It's an awesome idea! Primus adores me Then go right ahead, Smokescreen. You got it! It'll at least go better than calling Unicron a dilf ...You called Unicron a what a dilf? Why did you do that? To bug him? Oh, well then. One day that may come back to literally bite you in the aft. Well, that's all I've got! Well, once again, thanks for the stream! woojit woojit woojit I've got a horror movie for us for sometime! Thank you for that stream salvaging suggestion, Starscream. Oh, what? *listening face* The Brave Little Toaster? Yes, thanks! You know the sene It was the least I could offer. This was much better than the other thing Absolutely not. I'm not that sadistic. Oh. ... Am I that sadistic Oh my It's, uh, it's a pretty gruesome movie in some ways I'm sure nobody thinks you're sadistic, Smokescreen I think he tries. Oh, he already left. Unless that's Kast being weird again. The Brave Little Toaster is the sadistic one. Well, goodnight! Goodnight, All. Good night, everyone!

0 notes

anneedmonsonus · 5 years

Text

Our Budget Nursery Makeover: Miss Nerd’s Room

Not everything about writing a blog is fun and roses. But one of the things I love most about blogging being a part of my life is that it gives me so many kicks up the butt – deadlines and incentives to finally get my act together and do something.

I need these kicks up the butt, guys! Otherwise I would never make decisions and actually get things done. And this couldn’t be more true of Little Miss Nerd’s nursery makeover.

This room was unfinished and it had been bugging me for AGES. Literally every time I walked in I felt bleh. You know when something broken or just-not-done brings your energy down? I would feel irritated with myself for not having made the time to tackle it yet.

It used to look like this, after I had fixed it up and made it a craft room.

Photo by Heather Robbins.

This is nice. This I liked! (Before that it was our junk room, our dumping ground – you can see those photos in this post before I fixed it up and made it a craft room) My budget craft room makeover! It was even in a magazine.

Then it became a guest bedroom for a while (it was so small it barely fit our old double bed) and then it became Little Miss Nerd’s bedroom after she moved from her bassinet in our bedroom to her cot in here, and then it sort of became a junk room all over again.

All these things that didn’t have real homes kind of migrated there. And I’d never decorated it properly with a colour scheme and styling and everything. I’d never decided what to actually do. I’ve talked about this before when I shared Little Nerd’s toddler bedroom reveal, but the thing about our 1970s house is that the bedrooms are SMALL. And Miss Nerd’s nursery is the smallest – it’s 265cm x 265cm – it’s a small and dark room and not super-inspiring. We had nice things – the painting on the wall, the cot, the little toys and bits and pieces, but I’d never tied them altogether properly.

Miss Nerd was nine months old and I was literally always thinking, “I REALLY have to decorate her room properly,” when I got the perfect excuse to finally do it. A publicist for Channel 7’s House Rules contacted me and asked if I would like to do a budget room makeover on my Instagram and share it to celebrate the new season. Of course I was keen – it was the motivation I needed.

The aim was a $250 budget and I was actually excited about having a tight deadline. Maybe it’s the journalist in me that always needs a deadline.

And then, a weekend of solid work, and the room was finished. Have a look.

It is done! Done feels SO GOOD, I wish I’d done it earlier! Sometimes I deliberate all sorts of design decisions for AGES. This time I tried to trust my gut and just do things like choosing a paint colour and place art without second-guessing (and third-guessing, and fourth-guessing) my decisions and I surprised myself because I am actually really happy with it. Sometimes ‘done’ is better than perfect, right? (Something I constantly need to remind myself).

The bit that I’m most proud of is my DIY wall beading/cornicing/railing/trim/picture line (a few people asked me what I would call it and I’m actually not sure what the best term is).

Regardless of what it should be called, what I wanted to add to this room was some wall colour and some character. I was thinking if I did one solid feature wall, it might overwhelm the room and make it feel more closed-in. Adding some beading seemed like a nice way to add some wall detailing and a paint colour without sort of overpowering what is a really small space. I bought the trim from Bunnings – from memory it was about $13 a length.

It’s so simple but it’s quite pretty. What I’m proud about is that I did it myself. Mr Nerd was on a work trip, and I did the room in a weekend on my own. Okay not entirely, Little Nerd helped me measure and cut the beading (but then again, he is three, haha) and my Mum helped me glue it up so it was level, but still, I’m proud of my DIY trim!

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

You have to cut the beading at angles to get it to sit right around the corners and the windows, and I used to have this amazing Dremel which would have been PERFECT for cutting the beading at an angle, but then my charming sister borrowed it and left it in her car and someone broke in and stole it. So annoying.

So, I literally sawed all these pieces with a hand-saw. That wasn’t so easy. I’m sure all my carpenter readers are looking at my DIY beading in these photos dry-retching in their mouths as we speak, but I am so proud of it. Like I did it and I just wanted to keep walking into the room afterwards to look at it gleefully.

It’s probably because I am NOT the most practical person. I am inventive, not practical. Once me and my sister, the one who lost my Dremel, hung shelves in my toilet by drilling holes into the double brick walls with a cordless drill driver, because we couldn’t find the hammer drill that my husband had probably hidden from me somewhere. “It will be fine,” Simone said. (Surprisingly it actually was, even though it took about two million hours, I even wrote a DIY on it). See? Creative. Not practical.

But yes. What I wanted to say about this little DIY was, if I can do this, you DEFINITELY can. Have a crack. If you use a piece of beading with a more rounded profile, you have to cut the ends to get them to sit flush, then sand them, then I used putty to fill in any gaps and painted those with a tiny brush.

DIY WALL MOULDING TIPS

Measure the line from the ceiling, not from the floor.

Paint the walls before you affix the trim, not after. Then your trim will cover any slightly wonky bits and make it look smart.

Paint the beading before you affix it rather than after – way easier. I used white Annie Sloan Chalk Paint.

If you have low ceilings, consider making the line higher up rather than lower. I would actually have raised the picture line up a little higher than where it is, because this is a tiny room with low ceilings, and that would visually make the ceiling seem a little taller. However, when I removed the old IKEA picture ledge, it left two unsightly holes that still didn’t look right even when I puttied over them, so I used the trim to cover them.

Being slim and pine, my beading was lightweight enough to be able to be glued up (I used a Liquid Nails) but a heavier, thicker wood might have to be screwed in – take it into consideration when you choose.

Get someone to help you glue it up so you get it level. Ideally someone who is not in kindergarten.

Initially I actually wanted to paint the walls a sort of light duck egg blue, deep blue or blue-green. But when I looked at those colours on the walls, they just didn’t work. Because this room barely gets much sun (it’s also overshadowed quite a lot by the two-storey house next door) it already feels quite dark, and the cool colours made it seem cold and depressing. I wasn’t even thinking of pink but I was on Pinterest and saw a pretty apricot-coloured room – and then I realised a warm tone was probably the way to go.

The wall paint is Dulux Diva Rouge in half-strength. The colour is actually almost exactly like the same pinky-peachy-apricot colour my parents painted their entire rear extension in the 1990s, and as a little girl who loved blue I always swore I would never, ever paint my house that colour when I got a house, but here I am 20 years later painting my house 90s pink. Go figure.

After the walls were painted and the trim up it was time to play with pictures! For some reason artwork that might look a bit plain or shabby on a white wall somehow looks so special on a coloured wall. And when there is trim or just some sort of colour difference, it gives a nice ‘anchoring point’ for artwork. It sort of looks more pulled-together especially when your art collection is a little more random.

I had so much fun pulling out all these random bits of art that I’d collected over time from markets and op shops and then realising they looked pretty good in here. The little castle long stitch was $4 from an op shop and I thought it was so cute. (Mr Nerd calls things like this my ‘old lady art’). The pink and blue floral cross-stitch I got from a woman at the markets for $5 and I remember her saying happily, “It’s so nice to see younger people appreciate cross-stitch, no-one likes it anymore.” (Mr Nerd probably would have said, ‘that’s true’ had he been there). The castle cross stitch was $4 from a Good Sammy’s.

The oil flower painting was $4 from a market and the Love print I got yeeears ago from a girl who had a stall outside Jessie’s years ago. I have to admit it sat in my cupboard for years, waiting to be framed and hung… does anyone else buy prints and then frames them like years later? The mobile was a cheapie from Kmart.

That huge painting by the cot I got for $10 from the Melville Markets. I love it there. I literally walked past this painting every Sunday at the markets for about five weeks and I liked how it sort of looks like a paint-by-numbers. Then one day I decided I HAD to buy it even thought I had no idea where I would put it.

Sometimes I say wide-eyed to my husband, “I would NEVER buy something from the markets if I didn’t know exactly where I’m going to put it,” but that is such a lie. I impulse buy weird things all the time and then I stick them in the cupboard where they sadly wait for a home/the day when we buy a big house ten years in the future/the day my sister comes over with the (screwdriver) drill to help hang them up.

Anyway, thank God for my hoarding DNA. I was never intending to put this one in Miss Nerd’s room but somehow I think it just works. So, colour can make random art work, guys. Art walls don’t have to cost a fortune and if you like random stuff, a coloured wall can help you tie it all together. Eventually, I might add a pretty patterned rug – how cute is this from Temple and Webster, for example. But for now it’s fine. I was also initially planning to paint the wardrobe doors a light blue or grey, as I thought it would be too much pink, but when the walls were painted it somehow didn’t look too bad, so I’ve left them for now.

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

All up, I went JUST over my $250 budget for this room. The last splash was a huge palm from Bunnings – $110, which I put outside her window to make up for the lack of garden there. That view is so crap – ugly old fence and paving. Sometimes a huge plant is just what you need. One day we’ll eventually pave that part of the yard and put some sort of more permanent (possibly potted) garden there, but the effect of having a plant there definitely visually brightens it all up for now. Palms seem to be one of those plants that fall in the love them or hate them category. My husband hates them, but he usually lets me do what I like with the garden, and did I mention he was away that weekend? It has its perks.

Then I celebrated finishing by taking a break and taking Nala for a run by the river with my sister (the other one, not the one who lost the Dremel) and we got pizza.

The best part was when I showed Little Miss Nerd. I’d done the last bits of the room, hanging the art work and the mobile and putting in the toys, while they were at my mum’s place, then picked them up and brought them home. Being just a baby, I didn’t actually know if she would notice any change to be honest, but she lit up. If you go on my InstaStories, I saved a Highlight reel of stuff called Nursery Makeover – there’s a clip where she sees the finished room. Her face cracks me up. Make sure you put the sound on so you can hear her brother harping on. He is a details man.

And I kid you not, the day after I finished her room, I was hanging out in there with the kids (something we never did before, because it wasn’t a nice place to play in) and Miss Nerd took her first steps in her new room! We were all super excited about it and she was so proud of herself. Maybe it was her way of celebrating. (“Finally! Mama got her shit together.”) At nine months old, she started walking SO much earlier than Little Nerd did, which has been new territory for Mr Nerd and I, having an adventurous walker, but it’s also been fun. And funny. I think I could just watch babies walk all day. She reminds us of E.T).

I can’t even describe how good it felt, to FINALLY have finished a room that has been bothering me for months and months. It felt so energising. The home decorating equivalent of Marie Kondo-ing a messy kitchen cupboard. Now this room literally makes me feel lifted up each time I walk in there, but best of all the kids love it too, and they play in there (by themselves! Every morning! At their own free will! Heaven!) It’s still small, and dark, but it’s a much nicer, way more pleasant part of our home. Maya x

SUPPLIERS

Wall paint Dulux Diva Rouge half-strength Pine wall moulding Bunnings Bed linens Bedtonic pure linen cot sheets Moulding paint Annie Sloan Wall shelf IKEA Dog wall print Mokoh Design Wall art Thrifted

The post Our Budget Nursery Makeover: Miss Nerd’s Room appeared first on House Nerd.

from Home Improvement https://house-nerd.com/2019/06/24/budget-nursery-makeover/

0 notes