#neutral living room furniture

[freakishlyvintage]

Formal Living Room Example of a mid-sized transitional formal and enclosed medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room design with beige walls and no fireplace

[rebelsocialitenyc]

Baltimore Formal Example of a mid-sized transitional formal living room with beige walls and no fireplace that is enclosed and has a medium tone wood floor.

[soft-homestyle]

Stay cozy.

@soft-homestyle

[misguiding]

misguided souls ⁂

via instagram

[vintagehomecollection]

Living rooms in new houses often feature many windows. When you add a sunroom to such a house, it merely duplicates functions.

The Not So Big House - A Blueprint for the Way We Really Live, 1998

[toyastales]

A neutral oasis.

[golly-missmolly]

Las Vegas Open Example of a huge minimalist open concept family room design with white walls and a media wall

[jackcbuck]

Contemporary Living Room - Living Room Large contemporary formal living room idea with multicolored walls, a television mounted on the wall, a ribbon fireplace, and a stone fireplace.

[ahu-gozlumm]

Living Room - Open

Idea for a mid-sized, formal, open-concept Mediterranean living room with white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace, and no television.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚͠��̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

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[aorkan]

Traditional Family Room Example of a mid-sized classic open concept carpeted game room design with beige walls and a wall-mounted tv

[scrapxrat]

Las Vegas Playroom Kids Room

Example of a mid-sized transitional girl carpeted kids' room design with beige walls

[eleganthologramcolor]

Goofy way of delivering news to the 141???

Mini Poly!141 + reader (Reader is gender neutral but implied female anatomy, pregnancy)

You're smug, grinning slyly as you set up a little projector in the living room, dimming the lights.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you all here," you hum, feigning nonchalance as the boys sit spread apart from the couch, the love seat and Johnny in the floor, too antsy to sit on the furniture.

The projector flicks on with a kahoot code screen.

"Boys, if you could join."

They give each other looks, already wary from the last stunt you'd pulled with this. There's even a glimmer of panic on Johnny's face, who's trying to frantically remember the date in case he'd forgotten your birthday again.

Kyle and Price are playful, indulging you, and Simon is quiet. He can tell something's up, something a little more than just a game. He keeps his mouth shut, though, tongue in cheek as he glances at his own phone screen.

"We are going to take a quiz today."

And with that, the game begins.

Question 1: what is this?

Displayed over the question is a photo of you, beaming, holding a positive pregnancy test. The boys cheer, gathering you up in their arms, Kyle gets to you first, pressing kisses to the top of your head, and Johnny's trying to pull you close to start grabbing at your belly, as if there may be signs already.

Question 2: Who's the father?

"Bit of an unserious way to deliver news, innit?" Simon finally grumbles, unable to hold back the amused huff.

Then the screen flicks to the next question.

The room is quiet for a moment, competitive, the boys instantly hushed as they glance at one another. They each pick themselves, of course, they'd hope they got first born. Who wouldn't?

But when in the dark, Kyle's face is lit up in green, and there's only a pause before he's cackling victoriously as he runs out of the room to evade the pillows thrown at his head.

[soft-homestyle]

Stay cozy.

@soft-homestyle

[luvxkdrama]

— reflections

pairing : frontman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, manipulation, toxic love

word count : 2.6k

summary : "We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides."

—

Y/N adjusted her pink jumpsuit and mask, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She hated everything about this place: the screams, the games, the stench of blood that clung to every surface. She hated being part of this macabre machine, but she didn’t have a choice. Or at least, that’s what she tried to justify herself with.

A year ago, when she first arrived and realised what was actually happening, she had vowed to find a way to end it all. Once she was back home, she worked silently, methodically not sharing her plans to anyone, besides one person.

Hwang Inho.

She met him after the first game as he was a pink guard as well and as much as y/n didn’t trust him at first due to his cold facade, he actually turned out to have the same ideas as her. He was different from the other pink guards y/n has met, he was quieter, observant. Unlike the others, who reveled in their power over the players or fell into obedient silence, he had a sharp wit that he wielded sparingly but effectively. He always seemed to sense when Y/N needed a quick distraction during tense moments.

And so, after they got out of the game, they worked side by side often, and she eventually found herself drawn to the rare moments when they spoke about things unrelated to the game. Cozy nights, wrapped in blankets and talking as if there was no tomorrow.

Y/N tried to stay focused on her mission and not let her mind wander anywhere else but with the time passing by, the moments spent together became significantly more important to her.

Things shifted when one particular night instead of going home, Inho suggested y/n to sleepover at his house as it was pouring rain and the roads were dangerously blurry. One thing led to another and eventually y/n found herself laying her head on his bare chest, feeling safer than ever.

“What are you planning to do once you take down the organisation?” He asked while gently running his fingers across her hair.

Y/N thought for a moment and smiled “I don’t know,” she finally answered “My main focus for now is succeeding this mission and the rest… we’ll see I guess.”

Inho chuckled and didn’t push further, understanding her answer. He then put his left hand on her cheek and slowly raised her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, smiling into the kiss.

A year passed by quickly and it was time to return there again. Y/N felt ready, she knew what to do and when, especially after Inho somehow managed to find a sketch of the whole building where the games take place. Y/N did know that it was extremely odd to find such a thing out of blue, but knowing how helpful it was, she didn’t try to question it and simply let it slide, trusting him and being too immersed in succeeding her plan.

Before she knew, she was back, on her way to the first game, blending in as just another nameless guard in the sea of faceless pink uniforms.

Finally, the day came. It was the night after the third game when no one would expect anything as security was always on the highest alert after the first game.

Y/N was the one in motion while Inho was explaining the way she will have to make in order to get to the private lounge area. She managed to infiltrate the control room, her pulse pounding as she neutralized the guards stationed there. The room smelled of stale coffee and sweat, monitors flickering with live feeds of every horrifying corner of the facility.

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had made it this far—there was no turning back now.

After shutting down the security systems and eliminating anyone in her way, Y/N pushed through a heavy door into a private lounge area. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a massive screen casting shadows over the elegant furniture. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure sitting on a leather sofa, his back to her.

Her hand tightened around the gun she held. “Don’t move.”

The man didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You made it quicker than I expected.” His voice was low and computerized due to the black mask.

Y/N quickly grabbed her walkie talkie and told Inho she managed to make it to the private lounge. However, even after waiting for a few more seconds, she didn’t get a reply. She tried once again but to no avail. She started to get nervous as to why he wasn't responding.

Her grip on the gun wavered slightly and she cursed, deciding to take matters in her own hands for now “Turn around. Slowly.”

He raised the whiskey to his lips, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stood and turned to face her, the black mask looking right at her. 

Y/N tried to reach out to Inho once again when suddenly the frontman took out something from his pocket. It was the walkie talkie y/n had given Inho. She froze, fearing the frontman somehow managed to capture Inho while she was busy fighting the soldiers.

"Where did you get this ?" She gulped, taking a few steps closer to him, pointing the gun right at his chest “If you hurt him I swear-”

A low chuckle echoed across the room, y/n looked at the frontman who shook his head before raising his hands to take off the mask.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped.

It was him. Hwang Inho.

In an instant, it felt like all the walls around her started to suffocate her and that the room progressively got smaller. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The man she had spent so much time with, the one who made her feel understood and the one who showed her what love felt like, was standing in front of her in a black coat with the black mask in his hand—the unmistakable mask of the Front Man.

“You—” she started, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice colder now, void of the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

Y/N’s mind raced, piecing everything together. All the times he had been quiet, watching, listening. The way he seemed to know more than he let on. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

“Why what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why did I let you get this far? Or why am I standing here instead of stopping you?”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, raising the gun higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

The frontman—no, Inho—stopped, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If I wanted to stop you, Y/N, you’d already be dead. You know that.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her entire body shaking. “You knew. This whole time, you knew what I was doing. You were even helping me.”

"Helping is a big word. I’d rather say I was agreeing with your ideas and eventually giving you some clues from time to time.”

Her breath hitched. “What was your goal?”

He shrugged, his gaze unreadable. “I wanted to see how far you’d go. And now, here we are. I never doubted you though, I knew we'd meet here as I saw the ambition and determination in your eyes.”

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them. She hated him. She hated the games, the cruelty, the manipulation.

“I trusted you,” she whispered, lowering the gun slightly.

He stepped closer, this time without resistance. “And maybe you still can.”

Y/N’s heart pounded as he stopped just inches away, “What are you talking about?”

“Finish what you started,” he said simply, his voice low. “Shut it all down.”

Y/N stood frozen, her pulse roaring in her ears as his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. Her whole purpose for being here—to dismantle the games, to destroy everything he had built—now felt like a fragile construct teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull of his words, the horrible, awful logic they carried.

“You’re insane, Inho.” she whispered finally, her voice raw.

Hwang Inho didn’t flinch, didn’t react to her insult. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But if I’m insane then what does that make you?” He asked suddenly “You’ve killed for your cause, Y/N. You killed dozens of guards to get here. And now, here you are—standing in front of me with a gun, and yet you can’t pull the trigger. Why?”

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re trying to twist this,” she spat, her voice rising. “Trying to manipulate me into thinking we’re the same so I won’t stop you.”

His gaze followed her, steady and unflinching. “I don’t need to manipulate you, Y/N. You’ve already proven my point. You killed those guards to get here. You knew the risks, and you accepted them. You’re not here because you’re better than me. You’re here because you’re willing to do whatever it takes—just like I am.”

"I don't kill those people, Y/N," he continued, referring to the players “I don't force them to come here, I give them a choice. Moreover, after each game they have the choice to stay or continue. They kill the other players to survive and get more money, not me. People are so greedy for money that it makes them blind. They loose the privilege of being called human, they reveal their true nature — monsters.”

She whirled on him, her chest heaving. “Not everyone comes here by choice, some just don't have any other way. So you're wrong Inho-”

He approached her slowly, towering over her now, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Tell me Y/N, what do you think will happen if you kill me ?” he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. “The people who run this—the VIPs—they’ll just start again somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t reach them. Do you really think killing me will end this? I'm a just a puppet who accepted the harsh reality of this world, Y/N.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that there was a way to stop it all. But she didn’t have an answer.

“Exactly,” he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You think you can destroy this, but all you’ll do is burn yourself out trying. And in the meantime, people will keep dying.”

“So what?” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’re saying I should join you? Help you keep this nightmare alive?”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice softened as he said, “I’m saying you need to decide what matters more—your principles, or your survival.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I’d rather die than become like you.”

A faint smile flickered across his lips, “That’s what they all say.”

Before she could respond, the door behind her suddenly opened, and two guards stepped inside. Y/N’s stomach clenched, her body tensing and she immediately raised her gun at them, turning her back to Inho who didn’t even flinch. 

"Don’t you get it Y/N ? We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides." He gently put his hands on both of her arms, stepping behind her and looking at her side profile.

Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, her breath catching. She shook her head sharply, the anger rising in her chest. “No,” she spat, her voice bitter. “You’re not me. You’re a killer. And I don’t care what you say—you’re not going to twist this into something else.”

His smile barely flickered. “Funny. I thought you would understand. The line between right and wrong is thin, Y/N. You kill for your cause, I kill for mine. But in the end, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, the room spinning for a second. It was true—too true. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let herself be like him.

“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but full of conviction. She took a step back, turning back to look at him, his hands brushing over her sides before leaving her body completely. The weight of the gun in her hand heavy.

This wasn’t what she signed up for, wasn’t what she had worked so hard for. But standing there, facing him, she realized just how dangerous his words were, how much of what he said hit too close to home.

Y/N stood in the doorway, gun still heavy in her hand, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She suddenly raised her gun and pointed it directly at his heart, her finger twitching over the trigger. She had made her choice—at least, that’s what she had thought. The mission. The goal. It all led to this moment. One pull and it would be over. But now, standing in front of him, the room filled with the echoes of her hesitation, the lines between right and wrong blurred in a way she couldn’t ignore anymore.

She had been ready to walk away, ready to follow through, to do what she believed was right. But something inside her faltered, her resolve cracking like ice under pressure. He had been right about one thing—their reflection was too similar. She had spent so much of her life believing that she was the opposite of him, but with every step closer she took toward him, it felt more like she was staring into a mirror she had spent so long trying to avoid.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze steady but somehow understanding. “You don’t have to fight it anymore, Y/N. We’re the same. We both do what we believe is necessary. You can either leave, and I will make sure to get you home safely, or you can stay with me and accept the world is a cruel place that can’t be saved.”

Her chest tightened, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was something in his presence—something that made her feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She hated that it was him, hated that it was this—but she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection, the understanding that went beyond their roles in this twisted game.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Her breath, his movements, the weight of the gun—everything hung in the balance.

She lowered the weapon, her hands shaking as she realized the truth. She couldn’t walk away from him—not completely. She had tried, had convinced herself that she was different, that she was better, but deep down, she knew they were too alike. Too broken. Too far gone.

“I don’t want to be like you,” she whispered, more to herself than him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You already are,” he replied softly, but there was no malice in his words—only something darker, something that felt like acceptance.

And in that moment, something shifted inside her. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Her feelings for him, no matter how twisted or complicated, were real. And maybe—just maybe—there was no escaping this dark connection they shared.

She looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if it was love or something darker that pulled her closer, but when she stood in front of him, their eyes locking, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t walking away. She couldn't.

“Stay” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it held an undeniable weight.

He slowly leaned in and his lips met hers. Y/N didn't move away. She couldn't. She felt interlocked to him in a way she never did with anyone. She left the salty taste of her own tears during the kiss, feeling her heart betraying her own mind.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other, two sides of the same broken coin, too entwined to walk away from each other.

The world outside didn’t matter. The game didn’t matter. In that room, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Alike.

[vintagehomecollection]

Rooms by Design, 1989