#Mila 23

[lovelaughliverpool]

Robert Lewandowski and Lionel Messi at the 2023 Laureus World Sports Awards.

[cinemaquiles]

CINCO FILMES COM PERSONAGENS OBSESSIVOS PARA VER NO STREAMING

[amaroadriana]

@milaxkorshunova​

“Did I see you kiss Kosta or do my eyes deceive me?” Adriana grinned as they walked into one of the free guestrooms. After knocking, of course. “I thought all the hot sex, and that was kept in the safety of your home?” 

Though Adriana understood that there were certain things that had changed in the mind of Mila. Kosta offered her protection, offered her the security that she needed when those awful things happened. Especially when they happened to her. She was glad her best friend had that - above all else, Adriana wanted Mila to be safe, alive.

As usual, Adriana cleared a plate for them, preparing the big lines of cocaine for them. “Only do half if you’re a pussy.” Though what she really meant was ‘do half if you still feel unsafe’. They were at a party where people could disappear without a trace. That wasn’t news to them. 

She, on the other hand, was set to lose her mind and not remember anything from the night. 

[outfitsinspiration]

What: Cara Mila Zafira Lace Skirt - $138.00 Where: Instagram Story - July 23, 2023

Worn with: Cara Mila top,  Au Départ Paris bag

[no-144444]

prince charming- l.norris

summary: lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

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Another show finished, another day done. All you had to do was meet some children and show them around the stage. It was a thing the company had decided to do after every single show, and you were one of the only ballerinas who enjoyed it. Everyone else ran out of there as fast as they could, but you stayed around, in full costume, showing them everything. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Look!” Mila, the little girl that had been assigned to you pulled on your hand and you followed her over. “It’s your Prince Charming!” She pointed at your co-star, Richard, who was playing Prince Charming while you played Cinderella. He was lovely and one of your best friends, but Mila’s face fell when she saw him kiss another girl, aka his actual girlfriend Mia. “He’s kissing someone else!” she gasped, looking at you hurt. 

You smiled. “We’re only together in the show, remember? My name isn’t Cinderella, is it?” You chuckled and she nodded, laughing. “So, that’s Richard, and he’s Mia’s real-life Prince Charming, not mine.”

She nodded understandingly. “Do you have a Prince Charming?”

You internally cringed, why did kids always want to know about your love-life? “No,” you smiled. 

Her face lit up. “OH! Perfect! Uncle Lala!” she called for her uncle to come over as your face fell. “Uncle Lala will you be Y/n’s Prince Charming so she can be my Auntie and we can have fun forever?!” 

Mila’s excited face and the ridiculousness of her statement, reminding him she truly didn’t know how the world worked, made him giggle. And with Lando, when he starts, he doesn’t stop. It took a whole minute for him to stop laughing, while you sat there awkwardly. You knew who he was, you knew why he was laughing, but it was still rude. Just say no, dude. 

“Mila, it doesn’t work like that,” he explained. “She’s way too pretty for me,” he whispered, sitting down beside her, and in front of you. 

Your eyes widened and you looked down, confused at the entire situation. 

“I know she is,” Mila answered (subtle dig at her uncle, but alright). “But you could ask her to dance or something. Princesses like dancing.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”

“Why do you just try talking to her!” Mila scoffed, then ran off to go look at some of the set of the show. 

You looked up and met his eyes and you both started laughing. “I’m so sorry about her, she gets like this sometimes,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s alright, it happens sometimes,” you waved him off, an easy smile on your face. 

“You get hit on through people’s nieces a lot?” he questioned. 

You chuckled. “It’s more common than you think, people love the ballerina shtick.”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” you answered. “And I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Lando,” he held his hand out to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

“NIce to meet you too,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Congratulations on the year you’ve had.”

“You watch F1?”

You nodded. “My mom has been into it since she was a kid, she gave that to me, so… yeah.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Nico Hulkenberg,” you smirked. 

He chuckled. “Understandable,” he smiled, nodding. “Mila is probably off somewhere trying to destroy your set, I should probably go grab her.”

You both got up and smiled at each other. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Prince Charming,” you joked, he giggled. 

And that was that. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

For the next few days, Lando could not get you out of his head. You were funny, kind, beautiful, good with Mila, everything he wanted in a person, yet he’d let you slip away. You weren’t even on social media, but he followed the company’s instagram and some of your friends to see pictures of you. He decided, once the season ended, he’d go back and find you. Maybe he really could become your Prince Charming. 

He joined the rest of the crowd in their standing ovation as you bowed, smiling brightly. He waited around and followed a few more people backstage to finally see you again. 

“Lando?” you questioned as you looked at him from behind. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he shrugged. “Happy holidays.”

You smiled. “So it is true,” your eyes shone with a hint of mischief. “You did follow the company account.”

He screwed his face up in a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d been caught. “You don’t have a public account, thought it would be weird to follow you on your private one.”

You chuckled. “I would’ve let you follow me,” you told him. “You are my Prince Charming, right?”

He beamed. “Right,” he nodded. “Dinner?”

“Let me get out of costume,” you agreed. You started to walk off and he didn’t follow, unsure what to do. You turned back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

He was very happy he had brought Mila to the ballet.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[youremyheaven]

Doll Like Beauty: Vedic Astrology Analysis

in the early 2000s, models with a babyface were very popular. throughout the years i've come across many celebs who have very doll like visuals or neotenous features and I thought it would be fun to analyse them through the lens of astrology.

Lets start with the mother of all doll faced models, Miss Gemma Ward herself.

She's Swati Sun with either UBP/Revati Moon with Jupiter in Revati atmakaraka, if she has UBP Moon then its conjunct her Rahu in UBP and you can see the confluence of all these naks and placements on her face.

2. Vlada Roslyakova

She has Punarvasu sun amatyakaraka, Anuradha Moon, Mercury & Venus in Ardra, she also has Saturn in Jyeshta atmakaraka

3. Devon Aoki

she's Ashlesha Sun amatyakaraka, Aswini Moon, Venus in Punarvasu with Mars & Jup in Swati, Saturn in Chitra atmakaraka

4. Miranda Kerr

Aswini Sun, Punarvasu Moon, Mercury in Bharani atmakaraka and Mars in Bharani amatyakaraka and Pushya Rising

5. Lily Cole

She's Ardra Moon with Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus in Mrigashira and Jupiter in Bharani (amatyakaraka)

6. Jessica Stam

Jessica's features are sharper and less baby-ish but she still looks vv doll like.

She's Aswini Sun, Chitra Moon atmakaraka

7. Heather Marks

She's Rohini Sun, Chitra Moon atmakaraka, Mrigashira Mercury & Venus with Jupiter in Bharani amatyakaraka

8. Gigi Hadid

She's Aswini Sun & Rising, Dhanishta Moon atmakaraka, Saturn in Purva Bhadrapada amatyakaraka

9. Natalia Vodianova

She's Aswini Moon, Mars (amatyakaraka) conjunct Saturn (atmakaraka) in Chitra

10. Sasha Pivovarova

She has Uttarashada Sun/Mercury/Venus, Rohini Moon, Mars in Vishaka atmakaraka and Jupiter in Dhanishta amatyakaraka

Now I'll discuss some non-model folks

11. Sulli

She has UBP Sun, Swati Moon conjunct Jupiter. Mars in Purvabhadrapada atmakaraka

12. Christina Ricci

Dhanishta Sun (atmakaraka), Purva Ashada Moon & Magha Rising

13. Selena Gomez

Pushya Sun & Rising, Aswini Moon, Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus in Ashlesha, Saturn in Shravana (amatyakaraka)

14. Jennie Kim

Uttara Ashada Sun conjunct Mercury, Vishaka Moon, Saturn in Purvabhadrapada atmakaraka

15. Hedy Lamarr

Vishaka Sun atmakaraka, Pushya Moon & Mrigashira Rising

She has Jupiter in Shravana amatyakaraka

16. Emily Browning

Jyeshta Sun & Mercury (amatyakaraka), Vishaka Moon (atmakaraka)

17. Rihanna

She looks like a Bratz doll come to life. She's Shatabhisha Sun, Revati stellium (Moon, Venus & Rising)

Mercury in Shravana atmakaraka and Venus in Revati amatyakaraka

18. Divya Bharti

She's Shatabhisha Sun conjunct Mercury, Revati Moon atmakaraka, Swati Rising

19. Jayaprada

She's Revati Sun, Purvabhadrapada Moon (atmakaraka) conjunct Mars (amatyakaraka)

20. Gene Tierney

She's Anuradha Sun, Shatabhisha Moon, Rohini Rising, Mercury in Vishaka atmakaraka

21. Vanessa Paradis

She's Mula Sun, Punarvasu Moon conjunct Ketu, Swati Rising

22. Mila Kunis

She's Ashlesha Sun atmakaraka, Swati Moon, Mercury in Purva phalguni amatyakaraka

23. Kim Yoo Jung

She's Uttaraphalguni Sun, Dhanishta Moon atmakaraka with Venus in Ashlesha amatyakaraka

24. Christina Millian

She's Uttaraphalguni Sun, Purva phalguni Moon atmakaraka

25. Eartha Kitt

She's Uttarashada Sun, Punarvasu Moon (atmakaraka) and Mercury in Purvashada (amatyakaraka) and Anuradha Rising

26. Bhanupriya

Sun conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka) in Uttara Ashada, Purvabhadrapada Moon, Mars in Chitra amatyakaraka

27. Ni Ni

She's Ashlesha Sun (amatyakaraka) conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka), Mrigashira Moon

28. Shu Qi

She's Aswini Sun, Vishaka Moon, Mercury in Bharani (amatyakaraka) and Mars in Punarvasu atmakaraka

29. Anna Tsuchiya

She has Purvabhadrapada Sun (amatyakaraka) conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka), Mrigashira Moon

30. Mumtaz

Pushya Sun & Venus, Purva Ashada Moon, Mercury & Rising in Punarvasu, Mars in Mrigashira atmakaraka

In Asian countries and in Asian media, women with more youthful, ingenue features are represented more as that's what's considered beautiful. Therefore you'll see far more examples of Asian celebs who are babyfaced than you will of Western celebs. This does not mean all Asians are babyfaced.

In the West sharper more intense, androgynous features are considered striking and beautiful therefore women with more babyish faces stand out as unique looking.

Anywho, on the basis of my research I've come to understand a certain group of naks are commonly found across women who have doll like visuals (Uttarashada, Dhanishta, Mrigashira, Punarvasu, Vishaka, Purvabhadrapada, Aswini etc) a combination of Mercury and Moon or Jupiter/Saturn influence is what creates the features that lead to a doll like face.

A dollface usually has a small chin, a round/diamond/inverted triangle ish face shape, small nose, large or wide set eyes, pouty lips, a high forehead and high cheekbones and prominent cheek apples. This is a very hyperfeminine appearance. Thus it shouldn't be surprising that many of these natives have Moon conjunctions or Moon as their atmakaraka/amatyakaraka. Another prominent aspect is having atmakaraka/amatyakaraka in Saturn; since Saturn rules over bones, a small compact face with prominent bone structure signifies Saturn's influence.

I am of the opinion that beyond a single nak affecting a native's appearance, its usually a combination of several naks/planetary influences, thus it makes sense to see how Jupiter, which has the tendency to enlarge features give a native pouty lips, large eyes along with Mercury which makes features small, petite and dainty. Large features on a small face creates doll beauty.

I was surprised to see Martian naks (Dhanishta, Mrigashira, Chitra) on here but given its nature, Mars acts very similar to Saturn and creates compact faces with very prominent features; it creates youthful and striking beauty in women. Aswini was also surprising, especially since other Ketu naks weren't evidently present. But since Aswini is the very first nak, it makes sense as to why its natives have babyish faces.

[vaspider]

Lyudmila "Mila" Pupperchenko

11/17/16 - 12/18/23

Miss Mila Moops, Mila Moo, Princess, Pretty Girl, Baby Girl, Flopsy Baby, Darling Girl, and a million more.

She died the way she lived: on Emet's lap, eating treats.

[aleskie]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝟑𝟔 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 SUMMARY: A park, a game, the World Championships, and a question Ice to Meet You Masterlist Previous | Next

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: A lil swearing, some family stuff, mentions of the devs losing

Training was brutal. Even more than usual. But that was to be expected with Words fast approaching. Mila had a title to defend, after all. She first claimed it in 2015, then again in 2016. She lost the title in 2017, but got it back in 2018 and hasn’t let go since. And she wasn't about to now. At least, not without a fight. So, she took each fall, took every bruise. The pain felt like a small price to pay for another win. Still, her age was definitely creeping up on her. She’s at the age of retirement for most female figure skaters. God, she’s not even 23 yet but her knees are fucked. 

That’s the thing about figure skating that no one talks about. It consumes you. You train and train and train, and that’s all you have. It’s all you do. You train until you’ve bruised every inch of your body. You skate until you fuck up your knees permanently before you’re even thirty. You fall, you get up, and then you fall again and again and again. And it hurts. And the worst part is, Mila loves it. She loves it so much she’d stay forever if she could.

“Mila, you went too far into the edge,” Georgi called out, his voice tinged with exasperation. She hadn’t been landing her jumps properly all day. “Pull your left arm back in a bit more and keep leaning on the outside edge—really create that energy to lift you up properly.”

She nods. She knows what to do. She knows how to jump. She just…wasn’t getting it right today. And she was starting to get frustrated. She sensed Georgi picking up on it when he waved her off for a break.

“Calm yourself,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Go take a breather, we’ll come back in five.”

Mila skated off, slipping her skate guards on before finding a seat by her bag. She’d had off days before, but never this close to something as important as the World Championships. Was this a sign? Was her body finally giving up on her? The thoughts spiraled until she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

A text. She sighed, pulling it out, almost grateful for the distraction.

Mystery Man (nico): Can I see you? 

She gives a small smile as she reads the text. She hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon, especially not after a loss like that. If it were her, she would have shut the world out for days. But maybe he was just built differently—better, kinder. No, scratch that. He was a better person than she was. That wasn’t exactly a high bar to clear, but still.

Mila: I’m at training :( But you can come and watch if you want 😁

Mystery Man (nico): Send me the place 😄

She quickly typed out the address of her rink, hit send, then took a deep breath before hobbling back over to Georgi, ready to get back to work.

Not that the short break did much good. She was still struggling—falling, wobbling on her edges. Her landings were sloppy, and her entries? Basically cheats. After one particularly bad fall, she let out a frustrated breath and looked over at her coach.

“Okay,” she pants, looking over to Georgi, “If the Russians can cheat their jumps, why can’t I?”

“Because I refuse to have you retire early because of bad technique,” Georgi huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “You’re too good for that.”

She couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at her lips. It was nice, having someone who believed in her, who saw her as better than her mistakes. Better than she saw herself sometimes.

“Okay,” she smiles, “Let’s try again.”

This time, she ran through the jumps with a little more focus, a little less frustration. And though it was still far from perfect, it was better. Not great. But better. Maybe it had just been her nerves pulling her down, weighing down her feet like lead. As she finished her last jump, she wiped the sweat from her brow and tried to calm her racing thoughts.

Okay, she told herself, Nothing dire, nothing wrong. Just a bad day.

Sometimes that’s all it was. Life moves on, time doesn’t stop. It was just a bad day.

૮��� ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

When she’s out of the showers, dressed in a thick, cozy sweater and leggings, Mila pulls out her phone to check in with Nico, only to spot him sitting by the bleachers. He had on a Devil’s hoodie, black sweatpants, and a snapback—worn backward, of course. She was starting to think hats were his thing.

“When did you get here?” She asked while approaching him, still towel-drying her damp hair.

“A bit ago,” he smiled, glancing up from his phone. “You were in the middle of training, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

She scrunched her nose and sighed. “It was a bad day.”

He nodded solemnly, the weight of his own recent loss clear in his eyes. “We all have them,” he said, more to himself than to her. “What matters is that you push through and do better next time.”

The look in his eyes was determined, as though he needed to believe the words just as much as she did. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh captain, my captain,” she said dramatically, trying to lighten the mood. “What wise words you have!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What can I say? The captaincy’s still new, but I’m getting used to it.”

“Well, I suppose exposure therapy has its merits,” she teased, brushing her hair back and giving him a sidelong glance.

He hummed in agreement. “So, how do you deal with a day like today?” he asked. “When everything feels... off.”

“You mean a shitty training day?” she grimaced, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

She grabbed his hand—his much larger hand in hers—and pulled him toward the parking lot.

“Get in,” she said, opening the passenger door to her car. “I’ll drive you back later.”

He raised a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe I’m letting you kidnap me.”

She winked, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Key words: you’re letting me.”

He laughs before settling into his seat.

The drive to Mila’s secret place is tranquil, filled with easy conversation—the kind that flowed without much effort. They have idle chatter about their days. Nico talks about training that day, talks about the team and how they’re handling the game from last night.

“They’re reeling,” he says, “But they’re trying not to let it get to them. I think they’re working harder because of it. I feel like…they feel as if they have something to prove.”

“Wouldn’t you rather they work harder because of a win?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t any athlete?” he countered with a small smile.

“Fair enough.”

At a stoplight, Mila handed him control of the music. “Go ahead, play something. Anything you want.”

Nico's face lit up mischievously as he scrolled through her playlist. Suddenly, the car was filled with a booming beat and rapid-fire lyrics in a language she didn’t understand. She shot him a bemused look.

“Is this…in German?”

“Swiss-German,” He clarifies, shrugging, “You said I could play anything.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned. She’s not not enjoying it. The beat is catchy even though she doesn’t understand anything the artist is saying.

After a few moments of silence, the music almost fading into the background as she bobbed her head to his music, Nico glanced at her, his voice softer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why?”

He hesitated. “It looked like it hurt… when you fell.”

 She blinked, her mind flashing back to the rough landings she’d had earlier. She tried to brush it off with a joke. “From heaven?”

But Nico wasn’t laughing. He looked at her with genuine concern. “On the ice.”

She scrunches her nose.

“I mean it. I heard it. I mean, the sounds were…” He takes a breath. “I’m surprised nothing’s broken.”

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She’d almost forgotten he had been watching her practice. “I’m used to it,” she shrugs.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“I guess.” She swallowed hard, staring at the road. “That’s the first thing you learn in skating. How to fall.”

“I remember.” He smiled faintly, recalling his own experiences on the ice. “But what I remember most was learning how to take a punch.”

They shared a laugh, easing the tension between them. The conversation shifted back to lighter topics as Mila drove into a secluded woodland area, the kind of place that felt worlds away from the bustling city.

“We’re here,” she says, “Hold on, I’ll open the door.”

“You’re really giving me the princess treatment here,” he jokes as she opens the door for him, “Isn’t that my job?”

“I’d give you flowers if I had any,” she smiles. It’s true. She’d give him a million roses if she could.

She grabbed a bag from the backseat before leading Nico through a small gate not too far away from where they’re parked. The soft chirping of birds filled the air as they walked in silence, hand in hand, until they reached a quiet spot under a large tree.

“This should be good,” Mila said, laying out a blanket she pulled from her bag. She sat down, gesturing for him to join her. 

It was a tight fit, his legs stretching beyond the edges of the blanket, but neither of them seemed to mind. They sat quietly, letting the sounds of nature surround them. After a moment, Mila laid down, staring up at the canopy of leaves above.

“This is where I go to clear my head,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I stay here for hours. Just thinking. Or listening to music. It’s far away from everything. I like it”

Nico listened, nodding in understanding. “It’s peaceful.”

They stayed like that for a while, the quiet settling over them like a warm blanket. Every now and then, he glanced at her, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the serene expression on her face.

“Take a picture,” she teased, cracking one eye open. “It’ll last longer.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he said with a grin, pulling out his phone.

She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow, and struck a playful pose. “Here, I’ll even smile for you.” She stuck her tongue out, flashing a peace sign as he snapped photos of her.

He got into it quickly, directing her poses, both of them laughing at the absurdity of it all. They laugh over the faces Mila makes, laugh at the photobombers in each photo. And then they’re back to silence. The calm rushing over them. Then and there, they were just two people, free from the pressures of their sports, from the weight of their responsibilities.

But eventually, the conversation turned back to the game.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mila asked, sitting up to face him. “The game yesterday?”

Nico sighed, staring up at the sky.  “I don’t know what to say,” he says after a moment, “We’re a good team. We have good players. But we can’t seem to get it together. I don’t know how to help, how to fix it.”

She hums in response, sitting up to face him. “Do you wanna hear what I think?”

He nods.

“I think,” she contemplates, “That’s not something you should worry about.”

His brows furrow.

She continues, “You can bring up the team’s thoughts to the coaches, you can cheer up the boys, you can defend your team to the media, and you can lead by example.” She takes a breath. “It’s not your job to make strategies or figure out the dynamics of each player’s play style. You can help. Tell the coaches how the boys like to play best, how they like to be coached, how they respond to the strategies. But you aren’t solely responsible for how they play. If they suck during a game, then they suck. You can’t control that. All you can really do is try to make things better for them next time.”

He sighed deeply, lying down on the blanket. “I don’t want to fail them.”

“I don’t think you will,” she smiles gently, “You just got named captain like, what, a month ago? You’re not gonna be perfect from the start.”

“Were you? At skating?”

“Nah,” she smiles, thinking of her five-year-old self who couldn’t even balance on the ice, “I sucked for, like, thirty minutes. And then I learned how to hold myself up on the ice.” She smiles at him. “You’re still in your first thirty minutes. You’ll be just fine.”

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Here’s the thing: Mila is ridiculously good at Goldfish. Nico learns that the hard way. By losing five games in a row.

“Okay,” he groans, furrowing his brows as he studies his empty hand. “You’re definitely cheating,” he pouts.

“You just suck,” she shoots back, smirking as she sticks her tongue out at him, clearly relishing her victory. So she’s an arrogant winner, sue her.

“I don’t suck,” he protests, a cute pout still present on his face.

“Says the guy who’s lost five times in a row,” Mila teases.

“Let’s play a different game.” He places his cards on the ground. “Goldfish is banned until further notice.”

“Fine, fine, you sore loser,” she giggles, leaning over to shuffle the cards back into the deck. “What do you have in mind?”

“I...don’t know, actually.” He tilts his head, thinking. “What do people play when they’re trying to get to know each other?”

Mila pauses, fingers tapping rhythmically on the deck. “Hmm, my friends and I did that 36 Questions thing once. We can do that?”

Nico narrows his eyes. “Wasn’t it 20 Questions?”

“Nope, this one’s different.” She pulls out her phone and quickly taps a few buttons to pull up the list. “Originally, it’s supposed to help people fall in love, but I think it just helps people build a connection.”

“Fall in love?” Nico raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “We’re getting serious now?”

“Oh, hush. You know what I mean.” Mila rolls her eyes but grins back at him. “You in?”

“I’m in.” He mirrors her grin, scooting a bit closer.

Mila scrolls for a second before reading aloud. “Okay, first question: ‘Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?’”

Nico lets out a short laugh. “This is supposed to make us closer?”

“It starts off easy. Just trust the process,” she smiles, “It might surprise you.”

He thinks for a moment. “Maybe someone smart? Or someone I could learn from,” he hums, “You know, I’ve always idolized Roman Josi. He’s one of the best players in my opinion. So, maybe him.” 

Mila nods, a little smile playing on her lips. “Solid choice.”

He thinks for a moment. “Or maybe Stephen Hawking.”

“Stephen Hawking?” She chuckles. “That’s a bit out of left field.”

“I could ask him about the universe. We could talk about black holes or something. I think that’s pretty cool. Maybe I wouldn’t understand much of the science, but it’d be nice to learn about it.”

She smiles. “I want to dine with Taylor Swift. She’s cool.”

He laughs. “Of course. You played just her music for the first half of the ride here until you let me play my stuff.”

Mila places a hand on her heart in mock offense. “Hey now, Ms. Swift is my treasure, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico chuckles, leaning in slightly as the teasing banter flows easily between them.

She grins, locking eyes with him for a moment. “Next question?”

“Shoot,” he replies, settling in as they move to the next one.

“Would you like to be famous? In what way?” Mila groans, dramatically rolling her eyes, “Let me tell you what I tell everyone. I just want to skate. I could care less about the media. I mean, I love the fans and all. They’re great. But, I just want people to know me for skating, not for being marketable or having the right image or whatever.”

He nods in response. “Exactly. I love the fans. I mean, they’re the reason we can even do this.” She nods at him. “But I don’t want the glamor of it. I just wanna be known for hockey.”

They briefly go through the next question. The park around them hums softly with life—children’s laughter, the rustling of trees in the breeze—but for now, it feels like the world is just theirs, this little bubble on the blanket. 

Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

They both agree to just winging it, not putting too much thought into the what-ifs. There’s no use worrying about something that you don’t know about. It’s different from sports, they agree, you prepare for competitions to get the best results you can but phone calls can be wild or they can be mundane. You can’t control what’s gonna happen there, but it’s at least easier to adjust to the vibe of the conversation.

“Next question,” Mila says, “What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?”

Nico hums, thinking it over for a beat. “Honestly? Maybe just a chill day to myself. Spend it with family and friends, then go home, relax with a good book, and have a nice dinner afterward.”

He’s a pretty simple guy, Mila realizes—no drama, no big wishes. He’s mellow, easygoing. He appreciates the mundanity of life—wants to bask in the simplicity of things. She likes that about him. Likes that, outside of hockey and competition, he’s just…a guy. It’s refreshing.

“That sounds nice,” she says softly. Then, with a small smile, she adds, “I think I’d want to do things I’ve never done before. Go to an arcade, make a scrapbook, paint, maybe decorate a cake. Stuff like that.”

“You’ve never been to an arcade?” He asks, eyes wide with disbelief. 

She shrugs. “Didn’t have the time. Or, you know, the friends to go with. I thought it wouldn’t be fun to go alone.”

“I’ll take you,” he says, determined, “Next time. It’ll be fun.”

Mila narrows her eyes playfully, holding out her pinky. “Promise?”

He links his pinky with hers, their hands gently locked together. “Promise.”

“Good,” she says, playfully stern. “You can’t break this. Pinky promises are sacred.”

“I swear it.”

She smiles and they move on.

When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?

For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

They go through question after question, laughter filling the air. Some answers are ridiculous—like when Nico declares he would want the power to make the weather always match the climate of his hometown in Switzerland. Mila teases him about being spoiled by the picturesque Alps.

Other answers, though, carry more weight. Mila’s face softens when she answers that she’s most grateful for her coaches. “They’re like parents to me. They’ve just…always been there.”

The questions keep flowing, and they don't all dig deep into their personal lives, but they savor the silliness of it all. It’s fun, Mila realizes. And maybe that’s what the game is about—finding the fun in figuring out if you have chemistry with the person you’re answering it with.

Mila pauses when they reach the next question. She cringes a little before reading aloud, “How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”

Nico has this certain smile as he thinks about it, his expression softening into something nostalgic. “I feel like my family’s pretty close,” he starts, his voice warm. “I don’t get to see them as much now since they’re back in Switzerland, but we spend as much time as we can together over the summer when I’m home.”

He continues, “We spend a lot of time together at the lake, at the beach. We’re all athletes, so it’s always fun playing sports together. My mom makes the best food. We talk all the time while I’m here. They come visit whenever they can.”

He smiles as he talks about them. He loves them. That much is clear. There’s a quiet ache in her chest as he speaks, something that makes her feel a bit jealous of it all. She wants that feeling, longs for the warmth in his eyes as he talks about his mom’s cooking or spending time with his siblings. 

“That sounds… wonderful,” she replies, her voice soft. She means it. The feelings are foreign to her. Unfamiliar. Strange. But she finds herself yearning for it.

Nico’s eyes flicker with curiosity. “What’s your family like?”

Mila hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “They’re okay,” she starts, keeping her tone casual, though her gaze drops to her lap. “My parents are both doctors—surgeons—so they were always busy. And my brothers were so much younger that we never had anything in common.” 

She hates how her words are dampening the light mood. She feels the familiar tightness in her chest and quickly rushes through her explanation. “I moved away when I was young so I didn’t get to spend much time with them after that. And I had competitions near holidays so it just wasn’t efficient to come back home.” She shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. “But we’re…okay.”

Nico’s brow furrows in that way it does when he doesn’t quite understand something. “They never came to watch you skate?”

Mila forces a small laugh, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “They’re not exactly big fans of the whole skating thing. They wanted me to be a doctor. Or a lawyer—anything but this.” She fixes her gaze on the sky, trying to keep her tone light. “My dad even offered a trust fund if I ever chose to be a writer or a researcher or a teacher or some other ‘low paying job’” She says with air-quotes. 

“Literally anything but this.” Her voice wavers with sarcasm and a hint of bitterness. “My grandparents funded my international competitions until I was eighteen. And there’s funding from the association. So that helped.”

There’s a beat of silence. Nico shifts beside her, his hand brushing against hers. Kind of like he’s reassuring her. When he finally speaks, his voice is low. Sincere. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but…” He swallows, and when he speaks again, there’s a weight to his words. “You don’t deserve that.”

The sun is setting, shades of pink and orange littering the sky. The park is quiet now, with only the two of them left on their picnic blanket, surrounded by the soft hum of the evening. Mila watches as Nico glances at the dimming sky, his face relaxed yet somehow wistful.

"It’s getting dark," she murmurs with a chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "Seems like we’re the last ones here."

Nico pouts in response, his lips turning down in exaggerated disappointment. “That means we have to go soon,” he says, though his voice suggests he’s not in a rush.

She doesn’t want to leave either. There's a part of her that wishes they could stay like this forever—just the two of them, away from the world, no pressures, just...like this.

“We can’t do the rest,” she says softly, “Let’s end on a high note, yeah?”

He smiles and nods, eyes following her as she scrolls through the list of remaining questions.

Mila stops, a mischievous smirk creeping across her face. “‘Tell your partner something that you like about them already.’”

He laughs, throwing his head back slightly. “Of course you’d choose this one!”

“It’s the most fun one left!” She teases. “Unless you’d rather answer ‘Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?’” She says, voice taking on a dramatic, playful tone. “I mean, that’s morbid!”

She tries not to let it show, but there’s a flutter in her heart. There’s something intimate about the question, something that makes her feel like the gap between them is closing with each word he could say.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, “I like that you’re…talkative, but you listen.”

She raises a brow, curiosity piqued.

“I mean that,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I don’t always have a lot to say. I say things mostly as I see them and there’s not much to explain. But you? You have a lot to say and you say them easily. And then I speak and you…really listen.” His eyes glint with sincerity, making his smile even more captivating. “You ask questions, you react, and you call back to other things I’ve said before. I think that’s part of it too. You remember. Not a lot of people do.”

Mila’s smirk fades into a more genuine smile, her cheeks warming at his words. She didn’t expect him to think that of her. She just thought she was being normal. It’s a special kind of feeling when someone you like tells you that you listen. She gets the feeling of not being heard. She wants to listen to him forever.

“Your turn.”

“I like that you…start things.”

This earns him a playful, incredulous look from her.

“Like…” She tries to find the words. “I’m not the type to start conversations or invite people to hang out. But you do that.”  She locks her eyes with his, sincerity woven into her tone. “It’s hard to start things. It’s hard for me to start things. But I think you get that about me. I mean, you were the one who talked to me first—both times, I might add—and you messaged me first, you sent the first picture, sent the first video. You’re the one who asks me to hang out. I admire that about you.”

Without missing a beat, he tells her, “You’re worth it. All of it. I start things with you because I want to.”

Her heart swells at his words, a rush of warmth flooding her veins. “I want to do those things for you too,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but the intent rings true.

“You can,” he assures her, his tone gentle. Kind. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m right here.”

Mila decides that’s another thing she likes about him. 

He waits for her.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

They hang out a lot more after their little impromptu gettogether at the park. They get lunch, hang out at the cafe they went to the first time he asked her out, and fall into a comfortable rhythm. Nico watches her study, sometimes quizzing her with flashcards, playfully teasing her when she struggles with a card she should’ve known. They carve out time for each other. And when they aren’t free, they text all night—little ramblings about their day, stories about their friends. Sometimes it’s more heartfelt—losses and failure, the pressure to excel. They keep talking until one of them gets too sleepy to continue, often ending with a send-off of heart emojis—red for Nico, blue for Mila.

Today, they’re hanging out at Mila’s apartment. She’d invited him over. A first for the two of them. It’s a nice but strange feeling to have someone in your space. The apartment wasn’t messy (she stress-cleaned the night before), but she found herself glancing at everything, wondering if it felt too personal. Yet, once Nico arrived, Tulips in hand, his easy going presence helped put her at ease.

She had made them lunch and the way he complimented her cooking made her heart flutter. She found herself smiling more than usual. They spent the afternoon watching a dating reality show, laughing together as they made fun of the contestants' ridiculous personas, judging their decisions and betrayals. His laugh was infectious, and Mila found herself finally relaxing.

It was all fun and games until Mila remembered she was leaving for the airport tomorrow. For the World Championships. Normally, she’d remember well in advance thanks to Nicole’s insistence at helping her pack, fussing over her like a mother would her child. But this time was different. Hers and Georgi’s anniversary would fall on the same week as Worlds, so Georgi was taking her out for the day.

“You’re a big girl now,” Nicole had told her with a wink.

But was she?

Now, here she was, running around her apartment as Nico sat cross-legged on the floor, folding her leggings and turtlenecks like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Shit. I can’t find my skate guards,” Mila muttered, rummaging through her closet, her voice tinged with rising anxiety.

“Aren’t they in your gym bag?” Nico asked, glancing up from the neat pile of clothes he’d just finished folding. He was leaning back against the couch, watching her dart back and forth.

“I need my lucky ones,” she replied, a whine creeping into her tone. “The last time I didn’t wear them, I lost the championship.”

He chuckled softly, the sound light and easy. She’d find it cute if she weren’t so stressed.

“Us athletes are so superstitious aren’t we?” He teased, though there was an understanding in his voice.

“It’s only acceptable if the superstitions work,” she huffed, finally spotting the guards buried under a pile of scarves. She clutched them triumphantly, a small wave of relief washing over her.

Nico, done folding, patted the spot next to him on the floor. “Come here.”

Mila hesitated for a moment, but then walked over and sat down beside him. He pulled her close, his arm slipping around her shoulders, and she melted into him, the warmth of his embrace instantly calming her.

“You’ll be fine, you know. Even without the lucky skate guards or whatever rituals you have.”

She leaned her head against his chest, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of his sleeve. “You don’t know that,” she whispered, the weight of the competition looming over her.

“I do,” he said softly, his voice full of quiet certainty. He rested his chin on top of her head, holding her a little tighter. “You’re the best one there is.”

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Competitions were always hard. Physically and mentally. Especially mentally. She always seemed to psyche herself out and it almost always showed up at the worst possible moments. At the worst of times, it manifested as she skated, making her switch to easier jumps at the last minute. During practice, she could nail every jump with ease. But on the ice, under the glare of the lights, things became different. Georgi often told her that her biggest competitor was never the other skaters—it was herself. She was inclined to agree.

At the short program today, she’d under-rotated a salchow and ended up in second.  Second. A perfectly fine result, for anyone else. But it wasn’t where she needed to be, and that salchow—it shouldn’t have been a problem. It was one of the easier jumps. She could do it in her sleep during training. So why was it such a challenge in competition? God, she should’ve pushed harder to take that jump of her program. She's never been good at it. But it was too late now. Her results weren't too bad, sure. But it wasn’t where she wanted to be—where she needed to be. She needed to win. And a second place finish wasn’t getting her there.

She tries to calm herself by taking walks and spending time with her Team USA teammates. It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot. She couldn’t shake the heavy feeling settling deep in her chest. What is wrong with me? 

She wants to talk to Nico, hear his voice, have him comfort her. But she switches her phone off during Worlds. Half out of superstition, and half because she couldn’t resist the urge to doom-scroll through Twitter. It’s a bad habit of hers, reading through all the comments—positive and negative. Mostly the negative, reading every harsh comment from strangers who knew nothing about her. And yet, once she started, it was hard to stop. So, she kept her phone off. It was safer this way, even if it made her feel a little lonelier.

When the day of the free skate comes around, she’s all nerves. Her nails dig into her skin as she fidgets around. She tries to convince herself that second place isn’t bad. She still got a medal with it. But who was she kidding? Second place is the first loser. No one remembers second place. 

But what if she fumbles harder? What if she doesn’t even place? That was worse. That’s what everyone wanted. She’d never failed to make a podium her entire career. Never. How could she ever deal with that? Worse still, this season she’d won every competition she entered up until this point. She didn’t want to start her off-season with a loss. She knows how that ends—with her feet bleeding and a doctor’s note telling her to stay away from the rink until she was “mentally ready.” Whatever that meant. Ready for what? Skating was her life. She had to be ready. She didn’t have a choice.

Georgi put a hand on her shoulder, his voice steady, his presence solid. “Just skate,” he said, looking her in the eyes.

She stared at him, like he’d spoken another language. That was his advice? But Georgi was always like this—calm, grounded.

She took a breath.

The roar of the crowd filled the arena, but it was distant. Muffled. 

She tried to focus on the feel of the ice under her blades, the glide, the familiarity of it all. 

It was just her and the ice. Her and her old friend.

Just skate.

And so, she did.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

She gets a call from Nico the next night—actually, she has one other missed call from him, but she tries not to dwell on it. Her gold medal is safely tucked into her luggage, nestled between her clothes. She leaves for the airport in an hour. And she’s excited to go back home. She’s excited to model her medal for her friends, excited to place it on their necks as they act like they’d won it themselves. The thought makes her giggle to herself.

“Hi,” he says, his voice soft and low. He sounds tired.

“Hey,” she replies, leaning back on her bed. “Long day?”

“Yeah, training was tough this morning,” he says with a sigh. “But it was good. The energy was good. We won the game earlier.”

“Congratulations!”

“Same to you, Ms. World Champion.” She can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I told you you could do it.”

“You did.” A warm feeling spreads through her chest, remembering their moment in her apartment—how he believed in her even when she didn’t.

“What are you up to now?” he asks.

“I leave for the airport in an hour,” she says, glancing at her packed luggage. “Just hanging out in my room until then.”

“Excited to go home?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding even though he can’t see her. “Can’t wait.”

“I’ll get you flowers when I see you again.”

She smiles at the thought. “What kind?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want Tulips, like the ones you got me last time.”

“Then tulips it is.”

Her smile widens as she leans further into the pillows, relaxing into the sound of his voice. The conversation flows from there. She asks him to tell her about the game so he does—recounting every goal, every save, and even a few funny moments that happened on the ice. She made a mental note to watch a rerun when she got back.

She’s reminded of the time difference when she actively hears Nico getting sleepier. His voice becomes slower, lazier, and then he yawns, trying to muffle it.

“I think you need some sleep, hun,” she says softly, her tone teasing but affectionate.

“I want to talk to you more,” he murmurs, and she can almost imagine him, sprawled out on his bed, struggling to stay awake.

“You’ll see me soon,” she assures him, her voice gentle, “It won’t be long. I promise.”

He hums in agreement, though his voice sounds distant, like he’s already half asleep. “Okay.”

“See you soon, Nico,” she whispers, her heart warm.

“See you soon.”

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

He shows up to her unit just a few days later with a bouquet of tulips in hand. He’s dressed a little nicer than usual—wearing a crisp button-up and tailored dress pants. The sneakers keep the look casual, but there’s something different about him tonight.

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, raising a brow as she lets him inside.

“I was hoping you’d let me take you out tonight,” he says, his voice soft but carrying an excited edge.

She gives him a quizzical look from where she’s arranging the flowers in a vase, glancing down at her current outfit—a comfy house shirt and loose shorts. “Now?” she gestures at herself, amused.

“I’ll wait,” he says with a smile. “You can change.”

“Okay,” she replies, still confused but warming to the idea, “How fancy are we going tonight?”

He tilts his head slightly, considering his words. “Something comfortable, but, you know, like you wouldn’t regret wearing it on a date.”

“Oh,” she smirks, crossing her arms. “So this is a date?”

He smiles back, the kind of smile that makes her stomach flip. “If you want it to be.”

She pauses, teasing him with a mock-serious expression before finally grinning. “Give me twenty minutes.”

She’d be ready in less. 

[rescue-ram]

I was about to add commentary to the nice art I just reblogged but thought it would probably come off shady by accident fkckfk.

But Julian is canonically 28 in S1. We don't know Garak's age- in Improbable Cause he says Mila has worked for Tain for over thirty years, which could technically imply a thirty-something year old Garak, but A) we don't know how long Cardassian years are relative to Terran years and B) Garak is a notoriously evasive liar. Andy Robinson is 23 years older than Alexander Siddig, so I always head canon Garak as at least 20 years (or the sci-fi equivalent thereof) older that Julian- solidly middle aged, late 40s/early 50s. So yeah, Garashir insane age gap is real and makes their Whole Deal very funny to me.

Also I was curious so I looked it up just now and O'Brien is canonically 41 in S1 which also makes their Whole Thing very funny to me as well kxkckc

[lovelaughliverpool]

[thesimline]

Considering I was a 90s teen, gathering hairs for this collection was such a walk down memory lane. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my female decades hair collections here:

1920s ✺ 1930s ✺ 1940s ✺ 1950s ✺ 1960s ✺ 1970s ✺ 1980s

1 - Elia by Gege Sims

2 - Nadia by Kiara Zurk

3 - Peyton by Arethabee

4 - Marion by Femme On A Mission Sims

5 - Despina by Simstrouble

6 - Jeanna by HuiEn

7 - Paris by Green Llamas

8 - Eddie by Simstrouble

9 - Hotaru by Miiko

10 - Jazzy by Daylife Sims

11 - Ariel by Simandy

12 - Pamela by Arethabee

13 - Roxanna Hair by Adrian Pastel (retired - direct download)

14 - Medium Space Buns by Kiara Zurk

15 - Bree by AHarris00Britney

16 - Becky by Candy Sims

17 - Leda by Kamiiri

18 - Mila by Twisted Cat

19 - Cecilia by Simstrouble

20 - Kelly by ImVikai

21 - Hoppie by Simstrouble

22 - Anna by Arethabee

23 - Heather by Ice-cream for Breakfast

24 - June by Arethabee

With thanks to some amazing creators: @gegesimmer @femmeonamissionsims @simstrouble @greenllamas @miikocc @daylifesims @its-adrienpastel @aharris00britney @candysims4 @kamiiri @imvikai @arethabee @ice-creamforbreakfast

[chicayn22]

Sexiest Actress Tournament

Round 2

[outfitsinspiration]

What: Cara Mila Topázio Sleeveless Bomber Shirt - $132.00 Where: Instagram Story - July 23, 2023

Worn with: Cara Mila skirt and Au Départ Paris bag

[wanderingsimsfinds]

Decorating a house/lot with clutter is probably one of my favorite parts of building. This list has everything from books, to art supplies, to rugs, to clothing, to more practical clutter. 

WanderingSims Fave CC - Clutter

1 - Lulu265 - Classic 1 Tile Sheer Curtain (TSR)

2 - Lulu265 - Classic 2 Tile Sheer Curtain (TSR)

3 - Lulu265  - Classic 3 Tile Sheer Curtain (TSR)

4 - TheNumbersWoman - Ikea Pac Uggdal Bedroom Sheers (TSR)

5 - you-lust - szabolon Papers Wall Clutter

6 - SketchbookPixels - SIMPLY MXIMS Woli House Board

7 - wondymoon - Terbium Key Holder (TSR)

8, 11 - Kale House - 4t3 MXIMS IKEA Kubbis Wall Hook & Ferm Living Frame Pinboard

9 - Mutske - Hallway Leon Umbrella Stand (TSR)

10 - Simstiful - Backpack

12 - Julietsimscc - 4t3 Leosims Keys Rack Smaller

13, 16 - MOONSims3 - Vans Authentic Pro A MXIMS & Vans SK8 HI B MXIMS

14 - Lies-and-Crooked-Sims - Pixicat Converses 01

15 - Simstiful - Decor Dirty Shoes

17 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 heurrs Nielstrup Dresser

18 - cyclonesue - Air Conditioning Unit (TSR)

19, 33 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 novvvas Desierto Bedroom (Buddha & Books)

20 - ArtVitalex - Yuma Triple Shelf (TSR)

21 - Milla - Acne Pansy Beanie Hat

22 - johziii - Wooden Desk Shelf Empty

23 - SimplyStyling - Jope Living 5 Books

24, 39 - SimplyStyling - Jope Living 4 Side Board & Basket

25 - MarcusSims91 - Kalico Blanket Throw Ladder (TSR)

26 - SimplyStyling - Jope Living 1 Books

27-32 - Taultvec - Slox Hasare Books 1-6 Standing

34 - you-lust - Lisennymphy Buddha

35, 46, 54 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Syboulette Pride Set (Wall Flag, Hat, Bag)

36-38, 47, 49, 53 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Simbishy Cute Stationary Set Part 3 (Felt Pen Wall Array, Highlighter Wall Array, Marker Wall Array, Marker Array, Highlighter Array, Drawer Closed)

40-41 - Simstiful - Sketchbook & Notebook

42-45 - Milla - Luna Books 1-4

48, 50 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Simbishy Cute Stationary Set Part 2 (Felt Pen Array & Highlighter Array)

51, 55 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 pqSim4 Study Space (Organizer & Trolley)

52 - you-lust - BillyJean Brush Holder

56 - Simstiful - Canvas Art

57 - SweetMarie222 - BS Mila Watercolor Milla Version (TSR)

58 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Soloriya Art Studio Acrylic Paint Tubes

59-62, 66, 68, 70 - you-lust - Imadako Set (Watercolour Box Open, Pencil Cup Water Colour Umesara, Crayon Box Open, Watercolour Brush Stand, Watercolour Pencil Box, Watercolour Palette)

63-65, 71 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Soloriya Darina Set (Painting A, Painting B, Fabric with Brushes, Paint Tubes & Pencils)

67, 69 - Milla - Cassandre Pencil Cup 2 No Shininess & Stamp Version

72-74 - Pralinesims - Vintage Rugs 1-3 (TSR)

75 - Pralinesims - Soft Flokati (TSR)

76 - pseudodigs - Moroccan Rugs

77-79 - francythatsims - Neutral Rugs (2x3, 4x3, Runners)

80-83 - johziii - Rugs! Set 2x3 & 3x4 (Boho, Earthy, Monochrome, Vanilla)

84 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Cowbuild Minotti Rug Collection (Swatch A 3x2 & 7x5)

85 - MarcusSims91 - Address Planter

86 - MarcusSims91 - Modern Address Numbers Bellrose

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Music of Dolphins by Karen Hesse

Mila creates headlines around the world when she is rescued from an unpopulated island off the coast of Florida. Now a teenager, she has been raised by dolphins from the age of four.

Researchers teach Mila language and music. She learns, too, about rules and expectations, about locked doors and broken promies, disappointment and betrayal.

But the more Mila finds out what it means to be human, the more deeply she longs for her ocean home.

Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat by Lynne Jonell

Emmy was a good girl. At least she tried very hard to be good. She did her homework without being told. She ate all her vegetables, even the slimy ones. And she never talked back to her nanny, Miss Barmy, although it was almost impossible to keep quiet, some days.

She really was a little too good. Which is why she liked to sit by the Rat. The Rat was not good at all . . .

Gideon the Cutpurse by Linda Buckley-Archer

1763.

Gideon Seymour, cutpurse and gentleman, hides from the villainous Tar Man. Suddenly the sky peels away like fabric and from the gaping hole fall two curious-looking children. Peter Schock and Kate Dyer have fallen straight from the twenty-first century, thanks to an experiment with an antigravity machine. Before Gideon and the children have a chance to gather their wits, the Tar Man takes off with the machine -- and Kate and Peter's only chance of getting home. Soon Gideon, Kate, and Peter are swept into a journey through eighteenth-century London and form a bond that, they hope, will stand strong in the face of unfathomable treachery.

Dragonbreath by Ursula Vernon

It's not easy for Danny Dragonbreath to be the sole mythical creature in a school for reptiles and amphibians -- especially because he can't breathe fire like other dragons (as the school bully loves to remind him). But having a unique family comes in handy sometimes, like when his sea-serpent cousin takes Danny and his best iguana friend on a mindboggling underwater tour, complete with vomiting sea cucumbers and giant squid. It sure beats reading the encyclopedia to research his ocean report . . .

Undertow by Michael Buckley

Sixteen-year-old Lyric Walker’s life is forever changed when she witnesses the arrival of 30,000 Alpha, a five-nation race of ocean-dwelling warriors, on her beach in Coney Island. The world’s initial wonder and awe over the Alpha quickly turns ugly and paranoid and violent, and Lyric’s small town transforms into a military zone with humans on one side and Alpha on the other. When Lyric is recruited to help the crown prince, a boy named Fathom, assimilate, she begins to fall for him. But their love is a dangerous one, and there are forces on both sides working to keep them apart. Only, what if the Alpha are not actually the enemy? What if they are in fact humanity’s only hope of survival? Because the real enemy is coming. And it’s more terrifying than anything the world has ever seen.

Poison by Chris Wooding

Poison has always been a willful, contrary girl, prone to being argumentative and stubborn. So when her sister is snatched by the mean-spirited faeries, she seeks out the Phaerie Lord to get her back.

But finding him isn't easy, and the quest leads Poison into a murderous world of intrigue, danger, and deadly storytelling. With only her wits and her friends to aid her, Poison must survive the attentions of the Phaerie Lord, rescue her sister, and thwart a plot that's beyond anything she (or the reader) can imagine. . . .

Kiki Strike by Kirsten Miller

Life will never be the same for Ananka Fishbein after she ventures into an enormous sinkhole near her New York City apartment. A million rats, delinquent Girl Scouts out for revenge, and a secret city below the streets of Manhattan combine in this remarkable novel about a darker side of New York City you have only just begun to know about…

Willa by Robert Beatty

Move without a sound. Steal without a trace.

Willa, a young night-spirit, is her clan's best thief. She creeps into the cabins of the day-folk under cover of darkness and takes what they won't miss. It's dangerous work--the day-folk kill whatever they don't understand--but Willa will do anything to win the approval of the padaran, the charismatic leader of the Faeran people.

When Willa's curiosity leaves her hurt and stranded in the day-folk world, she calls upon the old powers of her beloved grandmother, and the unbreakable bonds of her forest allies, to escape. Only then does she begin to discover the shocking truth: that not all of her day-folk enemies are the same, and that the foundations of her own Faeran society are crumbling. What do you do when you realize that the society you were born and raised in is rife with evil? Do you raise your voice? Do you stand up against it?

As forces of unfathomable destruction encroach on her forest home, Willa must decide who she truly is, facing deadly force with the warmest compassion, sinister corruption with trusted alliance, and finding a home for her longing heart.

Sammy Keyes by Wendelin Van Draanen

Grams always told her those binoculars would get her into trouble. Now Sammy's witnessed a crime at the Heavenly Hotel-a light fingered thief stealing $4,000 from Madame Nashira, the astrologer with the fire-hazard hair-do. Thing is, while she was watching him, he was watching her, too...

First Light by Rebecca Stead

Peter is thrilled to join his parents on an expedition to Greenland, where his father studies global warming. Peter will get to skip school, drive a dogsled, and finally share in his dad's adventures. But on the ice cap, Peter struggles to understand a series of visions that both frighten and entice him. Thea has never seen the sun. Her extraordinary people, suspected of witchcraft and nearly driven to extinction, have retreated to a secret world they've built deep inside the arctic ice. As Thea dreams of a path to Earth's surface, Peter's search for answers brings him ever closer to her hidden home.

[amaroadriana]

Adri: Ew. I thought you guys would do better. Adri: You really should have come with me when I asked. Adri: Don't hook up with a smurf.

Text to Adri

Mila: I just saw a shirtless man painted all blue dressed as a smurf Mila: Help. Me.