#the other day i put together an ikea shelf for my roommate…

[justsomeguycore]

i wanna be a housebutch

[keepthyfaithandthylight]

Reincarnation au part 4?

The week went by slowly but surely, and soon enough it was Friday night. Most everyone had gone out partying, including Georges who seemed to talk about only that the entire day.

“You’re not going out?” Max asked, watching his roommate dry his hair with a towel. Always how their conversations started in the evening.

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it. I’d rather just stay in honestly.” He answered, hair now wrapped in said towel.

“I see. Well I picked up some microwave food, which I know is not the healthiest option, but it’s something. If you want some, of course.” Max suggested.

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll take some.” Antoine replied, focusing more of his attention on other things. Max nodded to himself, before sliding off of his bed and making his way over to his stash of food.

“You know, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could go and find like.. a shelf or something. I know you have an entire bag of stuff under your bed that you haven’t gone through, some extra storage might be helpful.” He suggested, already putting the food in the microwave.

“Sure, I guess.” Came the hesitant response.

Maybe that’s a bad idea. We’ll see tomorrow.

“Alright, well I hope you like ramen.” Max commented, with a chuckle.

“Of course, it’s a staple of college life isn’t it.” Antoine replied. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the cup of noodles from Max before sitting back on his bed. Max grabbed his own cup of ramen before settling on his own bed.

In the end they ended up turning on some cheap knockoff Netflix horror movie which managed to last until 10:30.

***

For once the entire week, Max was not woken by the strange remix of Chop Suey, but instead the sun shining directly in his face. Drowsily making his usual cup of coffee, he sat for a moment in thought.

“I knew you were up the moment I smelled coffee.” Came an amused voice from somewhere. Max jumped, nearly spilling his coffee, before glancing to his side.

“Oh, it’s just you. Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment.” He said, airily, and Antoine snickered very briefly.

“I noticed.” He said, with a carefully raised brow. “So, IKEA?” Max slowly lowered his cup of coffee at that.

“Why specifically IKEA..?” He asked, and a glint of mischief briefly flashed in Antoine’s eyes.

“Because,” he began, “have you ever tried to assemble a piece of furniture from ikea..?” He asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, it never goes well.” Max responded, with confusion.

“Exactly. But not this time, because at least I’m not putting it together on my own.” His roommate said, digging around and pulling out a t-shirt. “So, finish your coffee and get ready, we’re leaving right after.” Max raised an eyebrow as his eyes went wide.

“Not if I’m the one driving we’re not?” He replied.

“You’re not, I am.” Max groaned, before downing his coffee as quickly as he could, rushing around to get ready. As he stood brushing his teeth, he noticed the shadows under his eyes getting darker, or at least, darker than they were one week ago. Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on getting ready.

“Please tell me you obey traffic laws..” he began, emerging from the bathroom.

“I wouldn’t have passed the test if I didn’t.” Answered Antoine, walking out the door and into the hall, Max sighing tiredly before following after him. The air, at least, was slightly cooler outside to Max’s relief.

Ah, finally fall is coming soon. What a relief.

Max fell quiet before getting in the car, putting the seatbelt on and making sure it was extra tight.

“So you’re telling me you lived in this car for who knows how long..?” He asked, nervously.

“Uh.. yeah. That would be correct. Not like I didn’t clean it out when I got here, calm down.” Replied Antoine, who was more focused on actually starting the car.

“No, no, I have no doubt that you did. I’m just saying it’s.. kind of small. And you had a lot of stuff plus yourself-“ Max continued, weighing his points invisibly in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah, that wasn’t really enjoyable. It wasn’t all bad though, I could just turn on music and look out at the stars through the sunroof. That was the best part honestly. Everything else was shit, and don’t get me wrong I love this car but it is not ideal to have to live out of.” Antoine replied again, already focused on driving.

I won’t press the issue further, it had to be a pretty personal reason. No one just immediately goes to living out of their car after graduating.

The highway signs passed like sand in an hour glass, and soon enough they found themselves wandering through an ikea.

“How about these?” Max asked, pointing to some small shelves. “They’re small but I think they’d be able to hold quite a bit, plus there’s multiple.” He continued.

“Yeah, those could probably work.” Antoine replied, and without a second thought he was grabbing the box. Max stared wide eyed for a moment, before nodding and following him once more.

Once the shelves were actually bought, they traversed the large parking lot all the way back to Antoine’s car, putting the shelves in the trunk and making their way back. Max could tell he was in for a long day.

Once they were sat back in their dorm, with the materials scattered about the floor, Max made himself another cup of coffee.

“Do we have a screwdriver?” Antoine asked, from his spot on the floor, nose deep in the instructions.

“I don’t think so.” Max answered, apologetically.

“Maybe Georges has one, could you go ask him? I really hate to ask him of all people but..” his roommate trailed off, and Max nodded.

And so then Max was marching off towards Georges’ dorm, knocking on the door before he had any time to protest.

“What the fuck do you- Maximilien..?” Georges asked, clearly hung over.

“Hi yes-“

“Who’s at the door?” A woman’s groggy voice asked from somewhere in the room, Max immediately went expressionless.

Of course.

“Just some guy from my art history class, don’t worry about it!” Georges called back in response, before turning back to Max. “Anyway, how can I help you.” The latter cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I was wondering if you have a screwdriver I could borrow.” He asked, and Georges thought for a moment.

“Actually, I think I do, give me a sec.” he said, briefly retreating back into his room, before returning and slapping a screwdriver in Max’s hand. “There you go, man.”

“Thanks.” Max said simply, and made his way back.

***

“I have our screwdriver.” Max said, passing it to Antoine, before grabbing his beloved coffee.

How would I manage to have made it this far without caffeine.

“See?! I told you this time would be better!” Antoine exclaimed suddenly, with triumph clear in his voice. In front of him sat a set of surprisingly logical shelves.

“Nice, now to just put them in the wall.” Max responded, smiling tiredly. It had taken the entire morning and most of the afternoon, the sun was close to setting.

Who knew it took this long to put shelves together? Actually, it’s most likely because they’re from ikea.

Then his phone buzzed.

Camille:

Hey dude, Lucile told me to tell you she said hello.

Anyway, we have a date set. The wedding is going to be March 3rd.

Max smiled at his phone before typing out his response.

‘Alright, I’ll put it in my calendar. Thank you for letting me know.’

He put his phone back down, before passing Antoine a nail that sat on the floor.

“That might be helpful.” He said, with a warm smile.

“Oh, thanks.” His roommate replied, taking the nail from him.

Max couldn’t really be much help with actually getting the shelves up on the wall, so he simply stared out the window and drank his coffee. His third cup.

It was surprisingly quiet that evening, everyone was either away for the weekend, or staying inside.

Somehow, he missed the sound of rustling around in the bag, and only just now registered the sound of what he thought was sniffling. He turned away from the window, face wrought with worry.

“Are you.. ok..?” He asked, and Antoine nearly jumped, before coughing, the cough obviously being fake.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine I just.. dust. In my nose.” He responded, completely avoiding turning around to face Max. “You know what, I’m going to shower before I go through the bag.” Max watched still as his roommate made a beeline for the bathroom.

Alright, that's troubling.

Max wasn’t going to just go snooping around in his roommates stuff, he figured that if Antoine wanted to talk he would.

The evening was spent ignoring the issue, eating more Chinese food, and watching movies.

The moon shone in brightly through the single window that they were lucky enough to have, as Max sat on his bed. Beside him, he heard the sound of a sigh and the bag being dragged out from under the bed, it’s contents being carefully piled together.

“That’s a big difference from how you treated the other bags,” Max commented, with a raised brow, his tone as light as he could manage.

“Well yeah, the contents are fragile.” Antoine answered, laughing dryly. “They’re pictures.”

“I see,” Max added, nodding sagely. There was a pause.

“Did you.. want to see them or something..?” His roommate asked, and he stared back intrigued. “I don’t really mind, you know.” With that he slid off of his bed, sitting on his roommates when the latter moved a bit to give him room.

In a pile, there sat photos. Photos that Max felt wrong for looking at.

“Who is that?” He asked, pointing to the other person in the picture. It was a girl, and she was smiling rather brightly.

“Right… that’s my ex.” Antoine answered. “And the reason I was living out of my car.” Max fell silent.

“Are you.. are you sure you want me looking at these..?” He asked, and the other shrugged.

“Doesn’t really matter honestly. They’re from a time that at this point is long gone.” Antoine answered. “Oh, this one’s funny. That was at the end of one of the school years, I can’t remember which, she and I and a bunch of our friends all just.. kind of.. spontaneously went camping. May or may not have stolen a car, that’s also the first time we decide to use fake ID’s, it was.. very illegal. But it was fun. Just don’t tell the cops.” He said, holding a picture with a group of teenagers in the middle of the woods by a lake in swim suits. Two familiar faces stood out. “He actually ended up getting stuck in a tree. No idea how he got up in said tree but once he did he could not get back down.” The pair laughed a bit. Picture after picture, Max felt like he was almost intruding. “Oh, that was graduation, oh and this one is when we ended up getting an apartment, and.. that was last Christmas.”

“You guys seemed very happy,” Max commented absently.

“Yeah, I guess we were.” Antoine answered, silence fell once more and before Max could even speak, his question was answered. “But, her parents absolutely hated me. Why I have no idea, but.. because we ended up getting the apartment together I had nowhere to stay so I ended up just living out of my car. In case you were wondering.” There was a pause. “Not her fault, really, but.. honestly she was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She was funny, too, and always so supportive. There’s no other person like her in the world.” Antoine rambled, voice clearly strained.

“You miss her, I can tell.” Max commented, brows knitted together. His heart hurt.

“Maybe I do, but it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.” Antoine answered.

“What was her name?”

“Thérèse.”

[allegedlyanandroid]

Pairing: Allen60 Prompt: Cold Types: Found Family, Fluff AU: Angels and Demons, Sixty as the little devil he is, and Allen just being human.

I am so late 😅 I wrote an entire thing before realising I hated every word of it and started over from scratch. Anyway... excuses aside, I hope you like it @yayen-chan <3 `(‾◡◝)´ 

“Okay, bookshelves first,” Allen mutters, following the intricate maze of arrows and concrete as he tries to navigate the local IKEA. “Or rugs. That works too,” he sighs when he glances up and finds himself in the wrong part of the store. Looking through the copious amounts of different rugs Allen rapidly finds himself overwhelmed. He tries reading a few of the ridiculously complicated names, stuttering over them when trying to read them out loud. “Ra- raskmol- mölle?”  

Giving up on the fifth time trying to pronounce it correctly Allen rolls the grey-and-black striped fabric up and tosses it on the cart, already dreading trying to find the rest of the items on his list. There’s only one really but when passing through the plant-section he stops to pick up a potted plant. The other one is beyond salvaging from lack of water. “Ilex, foreeneling? För-enlig. What are these names?”  

After another dead-end and some frustrated grumbling, he does find the bookshelf he needs. Honestly… this trip alone solidifies why he’s never getting a puppy. The one he took in to foster was a sweet thing but very demanding and unaware that he weighed quite a lot for a pup. He’d knocked Allen’s bookshelf over, thus breaking it, and also had an accident on his rug. If being petless meant never having to go here again then that’s a price he’s willing to pay. At least the shelter had found a family for him quickly and, while he did miss the little rascal, the puppy was undoubtedly in better hands.  

“Kallax, hemnes... gersby?”

Too caught up in his own head he doesn't notice the strange scent of warm brimstone and ash filtering through the air nor does he notice the young “man” standing behind him, a man who seemingly appeared out of thin air, until he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Allen jerks his head up from wrestling with the cardboard box and offers an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Or, you could tell me why I’m here and spare me the mundane small talk you humans seem so obnoxiously fond of.”

“I’m sorry?”

The man squints. “You summoned me.”

Allen pauses to take a good look at the man. He’s tall with black, artistically tousled hair and endless amounts of freckles. A few moles are scattered across his skin and his brown eyes are filled with irritation. Dark jeans with a long-sleeved shirt tucked into it, a black overcoat ending at about mid-thigh and a purple scarf hanging unknotted around his neck. Allen thinks long and hard yet finds no recollection of ever seeing this man before in his life let alone speaking to him. “I have no idea who you are.”

“You-” the man pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply and slowly let it out before starting again. “You read the incantation to evoke me and you what… didn’t even realise it?” he asks and receives nothing but a blank stare from Allen in return. “Ugh, humans.”

In the blink of an eye the man transforms. Horns curve with the shape of his skull, producing from close to his temples, before ending in sharp tips that blend in with his raven hair. A black tail is wrapped around his leg which ends with a jagged spear-like point. The tips of his fingers look like they’ve been dipped in charcoal, fading into dark grey about halfway up his fingers, with claw-like black nails top it all off. They tap against the metal shelf next to them as the demon slowly advances.  

Too shocked to move, Allen’s jaw is taken in a firm grip and when the demon smiles his teeth are pointed blades. “So… are you going to tell me what it is you want?”

“You can let go of my face for a start,” Allen says, adding a quick “thank you,” when the demon does as he’s told. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Sixty.”

“Sixty,” Allen repeats. “No offence but I quite like having my soul intact. I’m sorry for dragging you from… whatever circle of hell you reside in, but I’m not interested in making any sort of deal with you.”

“Sucks to be you then because I’m not leaving until you do,” Sixty says and from his tone of voice alone Allen knows he’s a hundred percent serious.  

‘Fucking IKEA.’

-

“Really? You couldn’t have chosen to live somewhere a bit warmer?” Sixty asks with disdain, thankfully back to looking human. His feet sink into the four inches worth of snow dusting the ground and he can already feel the cold seeping in through the gaps in his clothing. “Or somewhere nicer in general.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“No one’s forcing you to live here.” A pause. “Or if they are, I am more than willing to kill them for you free of charge.”  

Allen sighs.

-

Having a demon for a housemate isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Sixty mostly keeps to himself whenever he isn’t trying to get a rise out of him or complaining about the cold or putting things on tall shelves like the little shit he is. Until Sixty gets bored that is.

Because when Sixty gets bored trouble ensues.  

-

Emerging from his office after a long day of meetings to see his demonic housemate casually chatting with parts of his team in the breakroom is a bit out of left field and the sight of Sixty’s mischievous eyes boring into his own is enough to quicken his pace. “What are you doing here, Si- Silas?” he asks, forcing a smile on his face.

He hates how no one else can look past the innocent brown eyes and syrupy grin to see the smugness beneath. “I thought we were supposed to eat lunch together? Did you forget?”

“No, of course not,” Allen hastens to say, ignoring Willis and Clark’s knowing grins, as he wracks his brain for a response. “Though I distinctly remember asking you to wait outside.”

“It would have been rude of me to decline Julie’s offer of getting coffee,” Sixty replies and raises his mug as if to show it off.

“No need to be jealous, boss. We just wanted to get to know the guy better,” Julie says.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you hang out with anyone outside of work apart from Reed,” Clark pipes up. “We got curious.”

“I’m not jealous!” Allen tries to defend himself, latching on to the word, but the agitated tone does nothing to help his case. Sixty smirking behind the rim of the coffee cup like a cat who got the cream isn’t helping to improve his mood either.

“You are the pettiest asshole I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting,” Allen says when they’re safely away from prying eyes.

Sixty snickers, knowing full well the amount of endless curiosity and ceaseless questions he’s unleashed on the human. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”

The fistful of snow he gets shoved in his face shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

By the time he manages to blink the melting snow out of his eyes Allen is too far away to retaliate, though that doesn’t stop Sixty from trying.  

-

Despite his best efforts Sixty’s irritation with being unceremoniously dragged into the mortal plane dissipates after the third week of staying with Allen. By the time he’s been there for a month and a half, Allen’s team have adopted him as one of their own and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. They genuinely care about his well-being and often invite him along on outings. As someone whose family is… overbearing, their light-hearted ribbing is a nice change of pace. Their easy dynamic is the very opposite of stifling. No one ever pries when he declines to answer a question. No one touches him after he made it clear he dislikes physical contact. No one quizzes him about his every movement.

It’s… nice.

The next team building exercise and subsequent photo op, proudly displayed on the communal fridge, includes him and Sixty doesn’t cry even a little bit upon seeing that.  

Not at all.

-

In the end, the shift in their relationship is near seamless ‒ from reluctant roommates to friends to something more.  

What hits him first is the metallic scent of fresh blood and Sixty is halfway across the room before he can even process rising to his feet. He gathers Allen up in his arms and leads him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Part of his dark shirt is tacky with blood and Sixty feels no remorse when he shreds it to get it off as quickly as possible. Something, a bullet or knife, must have grazed his side. It’s bleeding sluggishly though it thankfully isn’t deep. Sixty takes the ruined shirt and presses it against the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it.”

Allen doesn’t answer and in the end he’s the one who has to move Allen’s hand to take over while he dashes to the bathroom for the medkit. Sixty plunks it down on the floor and fills a bowl of lukewarm water to put down beside it before fetching a clean towel. He kneels down between Allen’s legs and cleans meticulously around the area, noting the patches of skin where bruises are slowly forming. Swiping over the wound with antiseptic earns him a bitten-off hiss and Sixty puts a hand on Allen’s sternum to steady him after the first involuntary flinch.  

He keeps it there, soothed by feeling the steady thrum of Allen’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips, until he needs the use of both his hands. In its absence, Sixty’s tail comes up to wrap loosely around his thigh for comfort.  

Butterfly bandages instead of sutures, his tail instead of his hand. Allen doesn’t say a word about either choice though he is smiling down where they’re connected once Sixty chances a quick peek.

There’s nothing left for him to do after covering the wound with gauze, taping the edges down, yet Sixty finds himself lingering there regardless.  

It’s easy to trace around the gauze with the very tip of a claw and when he catches Allen’s dark eyes the urge to lean down to place a gentle kiss over it wins out. Allen sighs quietly and coaxes Sixty up to kiss him properly ‒ a chaste press of lips against lips followed by a sincere thank you.  

Sixty blushes and knocks his forehead against Allen’s, mindful of his horns, in a silent show of affection.

-

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because I literally stepped in the door a second ago?” Allen laughs and pulls Sixty in for a quick kiss.

“Excuses,” Sixty sniffs and steals another kiss, one that quickly devolves into a dozen pecks being pressed all over his face until Allen plants a last lingering one to his lips.

“I love you,” Allen says when they break apart for real.  

The shy smile spreading over Sixty’s lips is one he’ll never tire of seeing.

[veeteeshirt]

My lovely friend and roommate, @lilas, commissioned me for some domestic fanfic of her Wayhaven Detective, Kai, and Adam building Ikea furniture. :^)

—

Warehouse Living Room

—

Adam didn’t even look like he felt the heft of either box he had tucked under each arm. With an amazing amount of gentleness, he set one next to the other against a wall relatively empty of tasteful wall decor and Nate’s beloved antique furniture. Satisfied, Adam drew close to Kai, their arms brushing against each other.

Kai shifted closer, enjoying the casualness of the touch.

“We should have sufficient room here to unbox and construct both shelves,” Adam swept his gaze across the room. “First we need to locate the instructions.”

“Adam we don’t need an entire action plan for this,” Kai withdrew a utility knife from his pocket and flicked it open. “It’s an Ikea shelf, not a battle strategy.”

“If we were meant to simply forgo the instructions, they would not have included them in the first place,” Adam said, voice stiff. “It would be most efficient to collect the materials and necessary equipment.”

“Pfft, whatever,” Kai shouldered past him to begin cutting open the boxes. “Listen, if legions of college kids can do this, so can we.”

“It’s not a doubt of our ability, Kai.” Adam crosses his arms, eyeing the way Kai flung out little bags of loose screws and nuts and shoved larger pieces into a messy pile to the side. “Merely the best course of action.”

“For you, maybe,” Kai pointed the knife at Adam. A smirk curved his lips up, his eyes glinting. “I guess you might not just be intuitive enough to figure out something this simple.”

Adam’s icy green eyes flashed hot and bright emerald with challenge. A muscle in his jaw clenched and his shirt grew ever more taut from the tightening of his arms. One day, Kai swore, one of his damn shirts would give up the ghost and rip for Kai to revel in.

Sadly, today was not the day.

“Oh, is that what you think,” Adam ground out in a barely concealed sneer. He approaches him, shoulders rounded up to his ears, dropping to his knees. “Fine, we shall see how quickly your so-called plan lasts.”

Kai met his fiery gaze with an intense one of his own and ran his thumb along his bottom lip. “Bet.”

Several Minutes Later

—

It hadn’t taken more than a couple passes of the material that threw Adam into frustrated dive for the instructions that Kai had crumpled and tossed to a lone corner. He didn’t meet his eyes when Kai watched the vampire storm over to it, apparently trying to avoid his one small smug victory.

Except now they were fighting about something else.

“Adam we have to actually open the bags,” Kai gestured pointedly to the handful of screws and washers he already managed to open before Adam caught onto him. “If we actually want to use them.”

“And use them we shall,” Adam grit out. He rapped a finger against the crumpled instructions. “But we don’t need them now.”

“Yes, but we will!” Kai threw his hands up. “And when we do, they will be right there for us to use instead of still being stuck in their bags.”

“Or one will go inevitably missing and we spend time looking for the lost piece,” Adam countered, eyes narrowing. “Does that sound like a good time saving measure, Kai?”

“I can see where they are, Adam, they’re right there!” Kai ripped the paper from his hand and scanned for the illustrations that listed each individual piece and how many of them should be included. “Look, see, this is the, uh… those screws are the, the ���” screws!”

“Really,” Adam said flatly. He held up one bag he managed to hoard. In tiny print, the bag stated in simple text the screws Kai had just tossed out there in hopes of shutting Adam up. “Because I do believe these are the ⅞” screws.”

“Whatever,” Kai groaned, rubbing the heel of his hand hard against his eyes. Fighting with Adam usually went this way where he or Adam would catch each other in stupid circular arguments that went no where until he (usually) or Adam (rarely) relented. “Fine, we can gather up all the bits and bobs and put them on a table at least before they all go rolling away.”

Satisfaction softened Adam’s brow and mouth. As much as Kai hated knowing Adam won this fight, the sight of it still clenched at his heart. “Good.”

Forty-five Minutes Later

—

Earlier, Nate passed by the living room and ducked his head in, probably drawn in by the loud argument that started once they started to put pieces together. When Kai met his concerned gaze, he piled on as much of “don’t fucking get involved” energy as he could muster in one glare. Luckily, Felix was close by and ushered Nate away with some excuse that didn’t Natey need to go re-organize the library books? Felix threw him a sympathetic wave and half smile before disappearing with Nate, voice trailing after him and asking why he would need to re-organize his books.

Now a partially constructed shelf stood between them, the uncapped metal rods jutting into the air the same way each barb they hurled at each other did.

“You used the wrong metal rod here, Adam,” Kai pointed to the shelf that wouldn’t settle down straight due to the uneven bars intended to hold it together. “See? There’s supposed to be a notch here that’s just- not there.”

Adam marched close to him and glared at the rod like if he could force an open notch there if he simply looked hard enough. If he had the ability, Kai didn’t doubt he could actually do just that if the hardness in Adam’s eyes said anything.

“Ridiculous, this is why we should have separated like pieces together at the beginning!” Adam scoffed. “Then perhaps I wouldn’t have grabbed the wrong piece when you distracted me by groping my arms.”

“Like that, did you?” Kai smirked at the sudden flush of red that creeped up Adam’s neck. “I can’t help but want to appreciate your physique sometimes, Adam. You can’t fault me for that.”

Adam’s top lip twitched as it did when he was biting back a comment. His lips rolled together for a moment before settling briefly into a half smile.

“I suppose I can’t when I can be charged for doing the same.”

The comment sent a thrill of excitement up Kai’s spine, eliciting a small shiver. Even now Adam’s moments of open flirtation could ignite a pleasurable heat in his chest that would only take the slightest of touches to fan into an inferno.

Like the one Adam was administering now, his fingertips ghosting down his hip. Adam held their gaze as he leaned in close, eyes smouldering.

“...But this still illustrates why we should have organized from the beginning.”

And just like that, that inferno quelled for a different to spark.

“Really Adam, really?” Kai scowled, swinging around and clenching the screwdriver. “Let’s just take apart the damn thing so we can use the right piece and finish this.”

Adam let out a laugh, soft with amusement, and a curl of a different fire drew a small smile across Kai’s lips.

Early Evening, Kai and Adam’s Room

—

It’d taken them the better part of the afternoon between the bickering and brief spats of flirtation (and the occasional make out, tucked away from at least the obvious line of sight), but finally the two shelves stood proud and complete in their space Kai made for them. Even Adam seemed to admire their work, resting a hand on the small of his back.

“Suppose we make a good team,” Kai leans his cheek against Adam’s shoulder, already thinking about the look of tumbling leaves curling down the rods and what color of glazed pots or reclaimed wood might look nice. “When we’re not fighting.”

“Of course we do,” Adam brushes his lips across his temple. “I am capable of appreciating your differing thought process and understanding when you are right.”

“I do love the sound of that,” Kai sighed around a smile. “You telling me that I’m right.”

Adam grunted. “Yes, well. Have you given thought to what plants you want on our new shelves?”

“Pfft, no,” Kai chuckled deeply. He could feel Adam tense in anticipation of what would come out of his mouth next. “I was just going to go to the gardening center and wing it.”

Adam groaned.

[luvknow]

roommates au | the best friend, kim woojin

genre: kim woojin x reader | college au ; friends-to-lovers au summary: woojin has been your best friend since high school. now he was your roommate, and living together took your friendship to a whole other level. wc: 2.5k

if woojin was going to be living with a roommate, it had to be with someone he already knew and trusted.

he wasn’t about that whole “let’s meet on craigslist” deal after he was randomly paired with someone for his first year living at the student dorms.

the day they met was when he decided he would never do anything like that ever again.

his roommate was absolutely terrible!

not only were they messy, they also played their music loud, got crumbs on his bunk, had people over, and worst of all...

he was sexiled five too many times to count in one month.

all five of those times he found himself crawling to your dorm just down the hall.

you and woojin have known each other all throughout your high school years and when you both found out you got accepted to the same dream school, you figured this was some sort of stroke of luck and applied to be in the same dorms, too.

luck was on your side, because you both ended up on the same floor and in the same hall!

so whenever woojin needed help with his homework, wanted to grab a bite to eat, or was exiled from his room due to a sock on the door knob, he was at your door in a heartbeat.

on the other hand, your roommate was perfect, due to the fact that they were almost never there because they were always at their significant other’s place, so you and woojin often had your dorm to yourselves.

a lot of long nights, long talks, and long study sessions happened in your dorm.

one night, while silently studying, you came up with a brilliant idea.

“hey.”

“hm?” he hummed, not looking up from his textbook.

“let’s get an apartment together next year.”

“ok.”

“wha - really!? just like that?”

“honestly, i was going to ask you eventually. you just beat me to it.”

“ok, this is a real verbal agreement, right? no take-backs?”

“if i have to live in the dorms another year, i will drop out, so i am one hundred percent serious.”

“yay!” you grinned. “we’re gonna be roommates ~! let’s shop at ikea!”

“we can only afford ikea, anyways...”

after spending the entire summer together buying furniture, decorations, and basic essentials, you were all ready to move in before the new school year.

your bedrooms were on opposite sides of the apartment, allowing you to have your privacy if you wanted it.

but most of the time, when both of you were home, you spent that time together in the living room and only went to your rooms to sleep.

you guys studied together, ate together, watched your favorite shows together - as roommates, you guys were inseparable.

sometimes while watching a movie, you wouldn’t even make it to your bed and fell asleep on the couch with your head on woojin’s shoulder.

that was the weird thing about being roommates.

you guys got pretty... intimate while sharing the same space.

mornings often went like this:

“woojin, can you move i’m trying to brush my teeth,” you mumbled at 8am while trying to fight woojin in a tshirt and boxers for sink space.

“my skincare is more important than your dental hygiene,” he scolded back.

“god, why are you so big it’s like i’m pushing a wall!”

“don’t be so mean - i’m thick, not big.”

in the kitchen it was more like this:

“wooojiiinnn ~” you whined cutely from the kitchen table. “i’m hungryyyy ~”

“go make something then.”

“but you’re so much better at making things...!”

“are you serious right now, i made dinner yesterday!”

"and it was amazing ~”

“ugh, you’re so lazy.................................................. what do you want?”

and the living room went like this:

“yoink,” woojin said as he snatched the remote up from your hands.

“don’t you change the channel or i will eat all of your snacks.”

“... you won’t...”

“bet.”

woojin squinted his eyes and dared to change the channel from your drama that was in the midst of a scene that could have led up to a kiss to his stupid weeb programs.

in a fury, you leaped up from the couch and sprinted straight woojin’s stash of snacks in his bedroom.

“hey, get out of my room!” he yelled, chasing after you.

“i said bet, so i’m gonna fulfill it!! that’s what you get!”

“don’t be a dick!”

“don’t change my channel!!”

in the end, both of you missed your shows and ended up sharing the snacks while watching some terrible movie.

living with your best friend had it’s difficult times, but you would never trade your roommate for anyone else.

if you thought you were best friends before, well you sure as hell are now, ten fold.

it took your relationship to a whole other level, and you weren’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

take, for example, when you were patiently waiting to use the bathroom when woojin was busy showering.

annoyed and already late for the day, you would continuously knock on the door knowing he was just taking his sweet ass time doing his skin care routine.

“i swear to god, if i miss one more clicker question -”

and then as if he was waiting for you to be at a certain level of annoyance, he’d open the bathroom door, letting all the steam out and revealing him in nothing but a towel around his waist.

he never failed to make you stop mid-sentence to gawk at his nearly-naked body that where his lower half was only covered with a towel.

you thought you knew everything about woojin up to this point in your friendship, but you never thought about how much he worked out and developed a six pack.

“staring is rude, _____,” woojin teased as he walked passed your stunned form.

it was hard to look him in the eye after that.

on woojin’s side of the matter, who also wasn’t sure whether living together and taking your relationship to a new level was good, had a weakness about you of his own.

on nights when it was warmer and you were dressing more comfortably around the apartment in your pajamas, instead of pajama pants, you opted for shorts that revealed a lot of leg.

just like how you didn’t realize woojin’s six pack, woojin never noticed how long your legs were.

your skin looked so smooth and soft, too -

“staring is rude, woojin,” you mocked, kicking him lightly as you passed him.

after that, whenever you wore anything tight that shaped your legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and luckily he was sneaky enough that you never noticed.

sundays were one of your favorite days to spend with woojin because it was a day to relax and go grocery shopping.

it took forever to finish shopping though because you two would argue about which foods were necessary.

“hot cheetos are so bad for you!” woojin scolded while putting the bag back on the shelf.

“if i wanna melt my insides with spicy cheesy goodness, then let me!” you whined.

“no, it’s gross, and you should be eating healthier! we’re not in high school anymore.”

“ugh, you never let me get what i want.”

he pinched a huge chunk of your cheek playfully. “you’re such a baby.”

“if i can’t eat my chips, you need to stop eating fried chicken so much.”

“those are not on the same level of unhealthiness ok, i eat white meat.”

“it’s still not good for you. you should eat like, baked or grilled chicken.”

“i would rather die.”

in the midst of your argument, while woojin was inspecting the nutrition facts of some cereal, you saw a shy but clearly interested passer by who eyed your roommate.

you nudged woojin harshly.

“ow, what was that for!?”

“i think someone’s checking you out. look in the next aisle.”

so obviously and not discreetly at all, like an idiot, woojin swung his head to face them and almost immediately, they tried to hide their blushing face behind a box of pasta.

“what are you waiting for, go talk to them!” you whispered.

woojin shook his head and went back to the cereal box. “nah, i’m ok.”

“are you out of your mind, they’re clearly interested in you, for whatever reason! and they’re not bad looking, either! this is so rare for you!”

“you’re such a dick.”

that’s how it always went whenever you two were out.

whether it was groceries, or getting coffee, or grabbing a bite to eat, or even studying in the library, there was always someone who was checking woojin out and every time you told him about it he would shut you down and not talk about it for the rest of the night.

which was crazy, wasn’t it!? like, who wouldn’t want to take all of these opportunities!?

you wished you had even one interested person look at you the way these people looked at woojin.

“why are you so lame?” you teased him while eating lunch one day.

“what do you mean?”

“like why don’t you ever go for it? you know, shoot your shot? you’ve had so many missed opportunities.”

“i’m just not interested in them, that’s all,” he shrugged.

“god, it’s like high school all over again. you had so many people lined up hoping you’d ask them on a date or to prom and you never did! you asked me to go with you instead, for whatever reason.”

“you said you were worried no one would ask you.”

“i mean yeah, but you didn’t have to ask me out of pity.”

“you know i’d never do that. we had so much fun that night, remember?”

“maybe you did, not so much me - i spent a good chunk of the night throwing up at the after party. you didn’t have to stay with me the whole night, you know. i felt so bad, like i took that night away from you.”

he shook his head. “it was so funny seeing you like that. besides, i didn’t want to leave you alone. i learned a lot about you that night, like how fireball doesn’t agree with your body and you have lacy red underwear.”

“oh my god, you saw that!?”

“yeah, and you’re lucky i made sure i was the only one.”

“d’aw woojin, you like me ~!” you teased. “see, you’d make such a good boyfriend for someone."

“maybe some other time.”

“well, i hope you do soon. i wish i had half the people interested in me like that.”

woojin stayed silent and clenched his jaw.

of course you had people interested in you.

whenever you were out, woojin always saw someone eyeing you in not-so innocent ways.

that’s when he would stand a little closer to you or block their view from you.

you never knew about them because unlike you, who told woojin nearly every time you saw someone interested in him, he never told you.

none of them were ever worth your time.

until he finds someone worthwhile for you, he’ll let you know about them. but for now, he’d stay silent.

which sounded selfish, but he was just protecting you, right?

“no dude, that’s totally selfish,” chan said while they hung out at his place. “why won’t you play wingman? they do that for you all the time!”

“all the guys are douche bags who probably put their soundcloud link on their social media bio.”

“hey, i do that.”

“yeah, and how many times have you asked me to set you up with them?”

“ok, i would stop asking if you’d just admit that you liked them since high school.”

“... not since high school...”

“so you do like them, right?” chan teased, nudging woojin playfully causing him to drop the gaming control.

“ah hey, i just died!”

“don’t change the subject!”

“i’m going home.”

“tell _____ to call me sometime ~”

“shut up.”

the walk home was long and frustrating.

maybe chan was talking some sense for once - was he really being selfish with you?

all your comments about wishing you went on dates or all the nights you spent staying up watching romantic dramas - you’ve been like this ever since he met you.

but you and woojin pretty much did the same things!

always going out to eat, making each other laugh, you even live together, for god’s sake.

the only thing that was missing was, well... the whole kissing part.

you were just chilling on the couch watching tv when woojin came home from hanging out with the guys.

“hey,” you greeted.

when you didn’t hear a response, you looked over to the door and saw woojin looking upset with his brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

“you ok?”

woojin softened his expression, unaware of how tense he was being. “yeah, sorry. i just lost to chan a bunch of times.”

“aw, poor you. wanna pick what we watch tonight?”

“you know me so well.”

he gladly joined you on the couch put on something you both would enjoy - trashy reality television.

tonight was one of those nights where both of you were too tired to talk or make conversation, so you’d stay up for hours watching whatever was on.

you were the first to fall asleep. woojin was so used to the weight of your head on his shoulder that he barely noticed it by the time he fell asleep.

the both of you must have been exhausted that night because neither of you woke up until the following morning.

you were the first to wake up, positioned perfectly under woojin’s arm and your head on his chest with your arms wrapped around him like he was your body pillow.

never had you guys fallen asleep in this position before, but for some reason, it didn’t feel weird.

it felt so right.

it was something you could only dream about.

until he woke up, you’d just pretend to sleep and lay there just a little while longer.

but he thought the same thing - he didn’t want to leave the couch at all, even if it was a bit cramped.

holding you was just too good to be true.

then it was almost noon, and both of you figured it was time to get up.

“hey,” woojin whispered, playing with your hair. “are you awake?”

“no ~” you replied, snuggling closer.

“c’mon, we gotta get up and be adults, or something.”

“but it’s sunday ~”

“why, do you like it when i hold you like this?” he teased, tightening his grip around you.

“mhm.”

“i like it, too. but guess what? sunday means we have to go grocery shopping today.”

“oh yeah, i totally forgot!”

“maybe... i could cook you something tonight.”

“wow, and i didn’t even have to ask?”

“i guess i really like you.”

“then i’ll take you up on that offer. in exchange, i’ll bake some cookies.”

“i like the sound of that. it’s a date...?”

you lifted your head up gave a blushing woojin a kiss on the cheek.

“i’d love to go on a date with my best friend.”

[winterysomnium]

post graduation roommates/getting together Todobaku tho

this is what happens when I’m too lazy to write but also have an idea

- they’re not even sure how it happens, this whole living together thing, but after graduation Todoroki wants to move out permanently because as much as Enji’s trying, they still see each other all day at work and Todoroki just needs his peace and Bakugou doesn’t wanna commute ‘cause it’s a hassle and it’s better to live closer to where most villains operate, right? right

- they get a small, cramped top floor apartment with a tiny balcony, joint kitchen and living room, an old fashioned bathroom and two tiny bedrooms

- they spend a better part of a week cleaning and fixing it up and Todoroki is infuriatingly good with setting up Ikea level furniture and decoding the manuals to Bakugou’s eternal irritation because this is the guy that doesn’t even know how to cook a medium rare steak?? but somehow cryptic fucking language makes sense to him?? how??

- and where did he even get the tatami mats from stop pulling all-nighters just so you can set up your dumb manga shelf, you goddamn nerd!!  (Kirishima gets a lot of annoyed texts like that that week. Todoroki will be good for Bakugou, he thinks.)

- Bakugou’s pretty much in charge of the kitchen and all hell breaks loose if Todoroki does the thing where he just puts stuff away randomly (as he tends to do) because why would you put rice to your tea ?? do you even have a brain up there?? Todoroki: it’s breakfast food Bakugou: that’s not how you fucking sort -- just get out, oh my god 

- but he still makes enough for two bentos even if he just leaves the food on a plate or in the fridge for Todoroki to put into his bento box, which Bakugou also got him because he’d found out that Todoroki didn’t have one and just bought lunch at random places and geez first of all: do you even know what a budget is and second of all: it’s not healthy so shut up and eat your damn fried shrimp rice

- Todoroki has incredibly steady hands. Bakugou learns this when he gets his first bad face injury; it creeps up from his cheek across his eyelid to the edge of his brow and there’s necessary aftercare and a few days off work which leave him frustrated and irritated as hell. His face itches and he can’t really touch it too much besides redressing it and he keeps want to rub his cheek aggressively and his hands keep getting sweaty when he tries to fix the bandages so he almost bites Todoroki’s head off, snaping at him when he grabs the salve and wound dressings  out of his sweaty explosive hands but Todoroki just offers “Eye injuries is something I’m familiar with,” as explanation and he treats Bakugou so so tenderly it almost feels like a punch and grudgingly, Bakugou lets him.

- They help each other out after that, regularly, with small scrapes and scratches or hard to reach lingering hurts and not once, not even after gruelling days of work and nearly sleepless nights and bad endings and the feeling of not having done enough, not once do Todoroki’s hands tremble.

- Bakugou cuts the back of Todoroki’s hair after he finally stops laughing because that’s the most impressive fucking sinusoid he’s ever seen in hair form and maybe. just maybe Todoroki looks a little embarrassed when he hands the scissors over which counts as a win in Bakugou’s book

- two am is their talk hour, in the liminal space of Torodoki’s gentle treating hands and sometimes in the crook of Bakugou’s mouth when they sip on Bakugou’s Dad’s special ‘bad day’ tea and the cups somehow feel more and more full the more they drink, emotion and exhaustion and doubt soaking the ceramic and Bakugou’s voice goes soft and quiet and in exchange, Todoroki bumps or simply touches his shoulder, as if he’s trying to amplify his voice again and sometimes, Bakugou will grudgingly admit, it even works. (Todoroki’s hands don’t tremble, but sometimes, his voice does.)

- they get a little ( a little) drunk on Midoriya’s birthday and pass out on top of each other in Bakugou’s bed and one of them might have held onto the other’s fingers and pressed their whole body against the other, flush and warm and there’s a lot of non-utilized bed space left but they’re stubbornly ignoring any opportunity of using it and just pretend there’s nothing beyond the border of their own bodies

- it’s a close call on both ends about a year and a half into being roommates, when a good chunk of the bay tears itself apart under the hands of a villain group and there’s a surgery, a couple of broken bones and ironically, they share a room at the hospital as well. “Maybe it really is a curse, me messing up people’s hands,’’ Todoroki says and there’s a wry, hurt smile and somehow it hurts even more to look at, so Bakugou knocks his cast against Todoroki’s bruised ribs ‘cause it serves him right. As if he’s the only one worried here.

- Bakugou stays in the hospital a day longer than Todoroki and when he comes back Todoroki has managed to nearly destroy their second best pot but the curry’s not as burned as the pot made it look out to be and it’s hot, burning in the way Bakugou likes his food to burn and if he tears up it’s the big chunks of chilli peppers Todoroki put in there that’s not how you do this, candy cane face,  haven’t I taught you better?? (and then Todoroki reveals that he has also bought Bakugou’s guilty pleasure take out as a fail-safe because he’d thought he might actually set the kitchen on fire despite Bakugou tutoring him on cooking and that tight press of anxiety snaps and falls off from around Bakugou’s chest as he scrubs the burned bottom of the pot, thinking of Todoroki, and why does this put him at ease, out of all things?)

- and yes, Todoroki has definitely set fire to several things in their kitchen in the name of reheating something or just probably wanting to piss Bakugou off because he told him he hates that and don’t you dare stick your grubby fingers into or anywhere near my drink, I’m getting my ice from the fridge, you freak

- Bakugou’s lip gets split the next time he’s back on duty and Todoroki keeps looking at it, his eyes drawn to the cut relentlessly and his looks are like an itch; Bakugou corners him in the middle of sorting out their fresh laundry, presses him against the washing machine and asks him what the fuck are you doing? and Todoroki just clenches his jaw and his eyes drop to Bakugou’s mouth again and heat rises inside of Bakugou like a shock wave and then Todoroki licks his own lips and Bakugou shoves him, just a little, what the hell are you thinking, giving a guy a look like that? he asks, voice rough but he feels a flush on his face and with slow, deliberate hesitation Todoroki’s fingers cup his face, and he leans in, kisses Bakugou softly and barely there and like a tease but Bakugou knows Todoroki’s dating expertise is zero and it’s not like either of them have time to date anyway -- yet, he kisses Todoroki back, presses him some more into the uncomfortable plastic of the washing machine and when the beat of his heart stops engulfing the whole of his heart, his being, he notices something else: Todoroki’s hands are trembling against his face, imperceptibly.

- and because they are a couple of dumbasses they don’t really talk, just make out, occasionally, on slow afternoons and after long long painful days, and sometimes, sometimes Bakugou kisses Todoroki after breakfast and before bed, but never on the same day. 

- one night, Todoroki stands in Bakugou’s bedroom’s doorway, shoulders so tense he’s probably pulling a muscle and they stare at each other for a long moment, before -- can I sleep here with you, tonight? Todoroki asks and he seems to be so vulnerable in the faded light and with his sleep clothes on and his bare feet; and Bakugou nods and scoots, but I’m keeping the right side of the bed, he growls as a warning but it’s half hearted at best and they both know they’re gonna end up pressed against each other in the middle of the bed anyway, arms and legs tangled, and the moment Todoroki’s under the covers Bakugou pulls him in, doesn’t ask and closes his eyes; he won’t ask. But Todoroki offers it anyway, sinks into Bakugou’s bed and Bakugou’s arms, fingers curling against Bakugou’s own; “My father is an asshole,” he says angry and bitter and sad and Bakugou knows enough to not pry and just kisses the back of Todoroki’s neck, once, asks: “Wanna forget about him?“ and Todoroki’s breath hitches but he nods and when they’re done, hours later, Todoroki’s silhouette stays relaxed, pliant under Bakugou’s palms. 

- it becomes a thing, and it grows underneath and between them and sometimes they’re hungry, sometimes they’re hurt and angry, sometimes they’re tender and scared and because Bakugou thinks it’s pathetic that Todoroki made all the first moves before, and because he thinks Todoroki needs to hear it, more than Bakugou, more than most of them, probably, he tells him; says, “Shouto, I love you, but that shirt is fucking hideous.” and Todoroki looks up, startled, and so what if Bakugou said it in the middle of an Abercrombie and Fitch store, both are true and both needed to be said and they’re definitely worth the smile Shouto gives him, and -- “Don’t know if I should take fashion advice from a guy that still shops at Hot Topic, Katsuki,” Todoroki teases and yeah, yeah, it’s good. They’re good and -- (’I love you, too,’ Todoroki says, the moment they step into their tiny hallway and the door is shut behind them.) Yeah, they’re great.               

[taexual]

HOLIC - 3 | jb x reader

Strangers, united by their big dreams, try to learn to live together and lift each other up to reach their goals without losing themselves or their relationship on the way to the top.

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: strong language, some suggestive themes

words: 3.8k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

          prev / next

You had been looking forward to the next day because your dream of going furniture shopping was finally going to come true. But now that the day was here, you found yourself racking your brain for a plausible excuse that would get you out of this. Looking for a bed to buy was exciting if you did it with a family member, a long-time boyfriend, or even just a friend. Jaebum was none of the three to you, hence your apprehension.

But maybe he forgot? Or maybe he changed his mind about going furniture shopping with you now that you turned out to be you, and not a guy like he’d expected?

However, when you walked out of your bedroom that morning, you saw Jaebum walking out of his own room, pulling a black shirt over his head. You forgot all about the excuses you’ve come up with as soon as you caught a glimpse of his torso – you’ve seen it once before, of course, but not while sober – and immediately turned away before your mind registered just how toned his stomach looked or how enticing you found his happy trail.

“Morning,” Jaebum suddenly greeted you, not asking why you were standing halfway out of your room with your back turned to him. He was smirking when you turned around, though. “Ikea opened thirty minutes ago, we can go when you’re ready.”

So the plans haven’t changed even though the two of you nearly slit each other’s throats last night, one trying to blame the other for the simple fact that you had accidentally moved in together, even though you both knew very well that if you’d been more open with each other, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Right,” you said, turning towards the bathroom but not really moving yet. “Do we know what furniture we actually need?”

“How about we just start with beds today?” he suggested. “We’ll, uh, see how this goes and then decide what else we need.”

Jaebum seemed nonchalant about this, but he had clearly given this some thought. He had expertly left some space for the possibility that the two of you might clash so bad, one of you will have to move out eventually, so there was no point to fully furnish this place.

“Cool,” you agreed, nodding and opening the bathroom door so you could finally inhale.

You had no idea why you stopped breathing when he talked to you – and you couldn’t remember if that also happened when you saw him for the first time that night at the bar – but you needed to get a grip on yourself. Jaebum was still someone you barely knew and no late night thoughts about how well you clicked as strangers on the internet could have changed that. You might be trying to live together now but that didn’t make you any less foreign to each other.

Washing your body with cold water, you tried to think about furniture shopping rationally. You were just going to the store to look for a few bed frames. A stranger you lived with was going to accompany you. The two of you would buy furniture for yourselves and then leave for your shared apartment where you lived in separate bedrooms. Weirder things have happened.

And yet, even with this convincing, your reflection in the mirror still looked concerned after the shower. You couldn’t do anything about it. Your whole life, people have told you that you showed every emotion you felt on your face. You couldn’t go for a mysterious look even if you tried.

Drying your face so you could apply your make-up, you gave yourself another pep-talk and, twenty minutes later, walked out of the bathroom truly feeling a little better. The ability people had to convince themselves of anything always amazed you. If you tried hard enough, you could probably calm yourself down in any sort of stressful situation.

Sadly, your calm exterior almost vanished when you were greeted by Jaebum’s back after you rounded the corner into the kitchen, and saw him reach for a bowl on the highest shelf in the wall cabinet. The tight, black shirt he was wearing accentuated the clenched muscles of his back and arms, and you ended up having to convince yourself that flashing back to the sex you had with your roommate one night ago in your apartment was a normal reaction and there was not a single reason why you should have been blushing.

“Cereal?” Jaebum asked, somehow feeling your presence without turning to look at you.

“What?” you blinked, too lost in your own thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Please.”

He got you a bowl and then placed the carton of milk on the kitchen island between you, before reaching for the cereal in the same cabinet again. Why did he have to store everything so high up?! Now you were forced to watch his back again.

“You okay?” he asked after turning around and catching you staring at the floor.

“Yeah, I’m—” you stopped yourself after noticing the smirk on his face. The same one he had on when you walked in on him putting a shirt on in the hallway just earlier this morning. He must have realized how much of an effect he had on you. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He snickered. “I’m not looking at you like anything. I’m giving you cereal.”

You took the box from him, not looking him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

After pouring the cereal and the milk into your bowls, the two of you proceeded to have a very quiet breakfast, not even bothering to discuss today’s weather – it was raining – or the dreams you’ve had tonight. You weren’t really curious about what Jaebum dreamed about until you thought of it and realized that you did want to know about it.

He’s told you about some of his dreams before, but only if you happened to be discussing a topic that was similar to what he had dreamt about. Other than that, Jaebum almost never randomly opened up to you so you didn’t expect him to do so now. And yet, you couldn’t help but analyze him as he ate, his eyes watching the stormy clouds outside of the kitchen window.

You didn’t do it in a prying way – you weren’t trying to find out all of his secrets or anything – you were just used to trying to find the best side of everyone through the lens of your camera. Jaebum had his left side turned to you and, if you had to choose which side of his to photograph, you’d choose this one simply because this was the side where two tiny moles decorated his upper eyelid. There was nothing special about them and yet everything was.

“Is there something on my face?” Jaebum asked suddenly, audibly acknowledging – for the first time today – that he had caught you staring.

“Actually, yeah,” you said, unphased. “Bits of chocolate on the corner of your lip. From the cereal.”

“Well, you could have just told me,” he said, wiping both corners of his mouth with his fingers. “No need to stare at me like that.”

“I was just enjoying the view of you looking all stupid with chocolate on your mouth,” you retorted, clearly trying to crawl out of this hole that your staring throughout the morning had gotten you in.

Jaebum chuckled at this but didn’t say anything else.

His reaction wasn’t that bad. You could take this light-hearted – or so you thought – banter as long as it didn’t escalate into an argument similar to the one you had last night.

If there came a time when the entirety of the Ikea shopping center was filled with people, you were sure the apocalypse would begin. Right now, it felt as though you and Jaebum were the only ones strolling through the unbelievably large store, browsing for bed frames. You passed a few people who were also interested in buying bedroom furniture but those were primarily couples, so you and Jaebum purposefully pretended not to see them.

“Maybe we should get a bunk bed,” Jaebum suggested abruptly as the two of you walked past a kids section of the store.

“Oh, I’d never sleep on the top bunk,” you said. “When I come home from work, I just want a nap. There’s no time to climb anything.”

“Fine with me,” Jaebum replied. “I always like to top anyway.”

You turned to look at him to check if it was just you or if he had intended to make it sound so suggestive. The grin on his face revealed that Jaebum knew what he said and he had no shame about it whatsoever.

You groaned. “Right. Now back to what’s really important. Based on the mattresses we have right now, we should be getting full-sized beds. They fit a person and a half according to what I’ve read online, so that’s more than enough space for—”

“You read about bed sizes online?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“I did,” you admitted, not really seeing what was he attempting to make fun of here. He noted your unphased expression and nodded to himself, looking away from you.

“I had a king-sized one in my last apartment,” Jaebum said then, leaning down to bring his hand across the wood of the bed the two of you had walked past. “It was fifty years old, though, so I had to lie still and basically pretend I was dead or it’d break.”

“So, no topping happened on that bed, huh?” you teased him back, attempting to puncture his inflated ego.

“Well, no,” Jaebum replied. “That’s why I like to spend nights elsewhere. As, I’m sure, you know.”

You clenched your jaw, not having expected him to mention the night you had shared just like that. And in an Ikea, – while surrounded by beds, – no less. Not that there was a place specifically fit for this type of conversations.

“Oh, I do,” you decided to play along, knowing just the way to bite him back. “The note you left by my bed was very explicit.”

This time, it was Jaebum who wasn’t expecting you to bring that up. You found yourself grinning shamelessly and suddenly, you understood why he smirked so much around you. It really did feel nice to catch someone off-guard by something you said or did.

“I like this one,” he said then, nodding his head in the direction of a queen-sized bed, which you probably wouldn’t even fit through the door of your apartment.

“The mattress will be too small,” you said. “Look for something a little more—oh, wow—something a little more in your price range.”

Jaebum hadn’t noticed how expensive this bed frame was but once you pointed it out, he hissed, frowning, too. You could tease each other about everything but, at least, you could have quick moments of bonding over the lack of decently priced furniture, too.

“Full-sized beds are too small,” Jaebum complained once you entered a section for teen bedrooms and then stopped in front of one of the beds.

“It’s just the right size,” you countered. “You’d have just enough space not to hit yourself in the face if you toss around in your sleep a lot.”

“You know I don’t toss around in my sleep,” he shot back, once again, reminding you that you weren’t really just strangers shopping for beds together.

“Well, then why is it too small?” you asked but before he could reply, you reached the conclusion yourself. “Oh, God, you’re gross. We’re shopping for beds to sleep in, not for beds to have sex in.”

Jaebum laughed at your dramatically disgusted expression. “It’s the same bed! Are you suggesting I should get two – one for sleeping, one for—”

“No, get one bed and stop—” you inhaled, not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing you repulsed by the thought of him having sex with someone in a bed just behind your wall. “Stop whining so much about wanting a big one. Go, look at that one. It seems cheap enough. And it’s the right size.”

Laughing again, Jaebum headed in the direction you had pointed to check the beds there. Immediately, a sales assistant approached him – something that was rare in Ikea – and proceeded to point out the best-selling bed frames.

“What about the ones who aren’t as popular?” you asked. “This guy right here loves to stand out.”

You patted Jaebum’s shoulder – he rolled his eyes but didn’t object – and the employee laughed awkwardly.

“Ah, I see,” he said, giving Jaebum a smile. “How about this frame right here, then? It didn’t sell out as quickly but only because it’s mahogany which is, I guess, an unusual choice for the bedroom nowadays. I’m sure you and your wife could make it work, though.”

“Me and my wi—no,” Jaebum said, almost choking as the label slipped from the sales assistant’s mouth. “We aren’t—we’re not actually—”

“We’re not married,” you said, noticing Jaebum’s struggle to get a sentence out. “We’re looking for two beds, actually. For two separate rooms. Because we don’t even live together. I-I mean we do, but—”

“We’re not together,” it was Jaebum helping you this time while the employee watched you both with blatant curiosity in his eyes. He’s never met a pair who was so adamant to prove that they weren’t dating. “We just share an apartment but, actually, we barely know each other.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “So, we just need two beds. Separate beds. Two different beds.”

“Alright, sorry about that,” the employee cut in quickly before either of you could keep on explaining what your relationship status with each other was. He pointed at a few frames nearby. “Give these a look then. They’re just different enough from other beds to stand out and we also have two of them. Just like you need.”

Knowing very well that you were blushing, you kept your head down as you followed the sales assistant. Jaebum was by your side – and if you had raised your head, you would have noticed how flustered he was, too – but this time, he was keeping a bit of a distance from you as if he was scared that if he stood too close to you, someone else would assume that you were together. Why you even cared about this was beyond you. But the fact that this particular employee had assumed you were dating made you and Jaebum choose the first beds he pointed at. They looked good enough.

Even though you wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, you still got distracted by the arrangements next to the cash register. There were picture frames displayed there and you excused yourself to give them a look while Jaebum signed the information on the form to get the furniture delivered.

“Do I just write my own name?” you heard him ask the cashier. “Or do I write both of your names, since we live together?”

“Just one name is enough,” the cashier replied politely. “As long as the name is from a person who lives in the place of delivery, it doesn’t matter whose it is.”

“Alright,” Jaebum said, glancing at you over his shoulder. You were too busy admiring the frames to catch his look, though. “I guess I’ll just put mine in.”

“Great,” the cashier encouraged. “I’m sure your partner won’t mind.”

“My—Jesus,” he groaned, dropping the pen so he could take a moment to cover his face in utter despair. It happened again before you even left the store. “She’s not my partner.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” the cashier apologized quickly. She was just trying to be sweet and understanding but Jaebum’s desperation caused her to regret even trying. “Usually, people who buy furniture together are, well, involved. My apologies if I have offended you.”

“She could be my sister,” Jaebum mumbled under his breath, certain that the employees here have conspired against you and him, purposefully trying to make this experience unpleasant by assuming how the two of you were related.

“You done?” you appeared by his side, then. “I’m getting a few picture frames, too, so you can go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Great,” he replied, passing the form back to the cashier who offered him another apologetic smile. Then, he gave you a look. “We’re shopping online next time.”

The boxes from Ikea ended up arriving three hours later – which was much faster then either of you had expected and yet the delivery guys kept apologizing (one of your neighbors even opened her door to check what was going on, but she was probably just curious about who you were) because, apparently, it took them “so long” because of the rain – and you and Jaebum found yourselves stuck with the task of actually assembling the beds.

Jaebum truly looked like he was reading Egyptian hieroglyphs when he found the instructions inside of the cardboard box.

“You’ve never built furniture before?” you asked him.

“No,” he admitted. “All my apartments came pre-furnished.”

“So did mine but I still managed to get some experience in this,” you replied, remembering all of the nights you’d spent reassembling your closet because the previous owners had done something to it, so now whenever you placed something on any of the shelves, they kept falling down.

“I’m sure I’m a natural,” Jaebum said, sounding much more confident than he looked. He still hadn’t found what the first step was.

“Sure,” you scoffed. “It’ll probably only take you the whole night.”

“It will not,” Jaebum scoffed back childishly. “I’ll build mine faster than you.”

You raised your eyebrows, truly impressed by his overflowing confidence. “Want to bet?”

“Alright,” he agreed immediately, never being one to back down from a good challenge. “What are we betting on?”

“The one who finishes last is forever the loser of this household.”

Jaebum raised his eyebrows at this. “Very mature.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Go ahead if you have anything better.”

“Fifty bucks,” he offered.

This made you squint your eyes at him, thinking that he might have a gambling problem but, eventually, you let it go because you thought this was easy money. There was no way Jaebum, who’s never built any kind of furniture his whole life, was going to win.

“Deal,” you said, extending a hand.

Eagerly, he shook it – not lingering because he already almost flinched at the feeling of your soft skin against his – and then immediately grabbed the box with pieces of his bed, dragging it to his bedroom.

Doing the same, you unpacked the box in your room and gave yourself a moment to think of a plan. At first, you considered challenging yourself and building the bed with no instructions but then you realized that winning this bet – and ensuring that the bed was built securely, of course – was more important than whatever you wanted to prove to yourself so, after getting every little screw out of the box, you carefully analyzed the instructions.

You could hear dull battering sounds coming from Jaebum’s room so you assumed he had already started to assemble the piece of furniture and, even if he was inexperienced, you realized you still needed to hurry up. You were only betting which one of you would finish first, not which one of you would build it better.

About forty minutes later, you had built the entire outer frame. You would have done it faster, too, but somehow, you’d lost a couple of screws – they had managed to roll under one of the crooked boxes that still stood unpacked in your room – so, you spent a good ten minutes panicking as you looked for them.

All that was left to do now was connecting the headboard and the baseboard, as well as attaching the center boards. You knew it’d only take you another ten minutes at most, so, deciding that you deserved it, you walked out of your bedroom for a glass of water before you got back to work.

Curiously, you peeked into Jaebum’s bedroom to check on his progress – even though you could hear him swear every five minutes through the wall – and noticed that he didn’t even have the outer frame finished yet. As you tried to assess how much he’s actually done, he caught you staring.

“What?” he snapped at you.

“Nothing,” you replied, unable to hide your smile. “Not in a hurry, are you?”

“I’m working on the quality. I don’t want the bed to fall apart under my weight,” he shot back.

“Sure, sure. Well, good luck—”

“How much have you done?” he asked right as you were about to walk away.

“Well, I didn’t come here to gloat or anything but now that you asked…” you started to say and Jaebum rolled his eyes. “I’m actually almost finished. Get that wallet ready, yeah? And maybe hurry up, too, unless you want to sleep on the floor again.”

He groaned as you walked into the kitchen. You didn’t hear him curse at you, though. He was probably too busy actually working now that he knew how much further along you were.

It took you quite a few moments to locate the cabinet with the glasses in the kitchen. They turned out to be on the top shelf of one of the cabinets, so you could barely even see them. You groaned, realizing that somehow, you managed to place everything important on the top shelves – the bowls and the cereal included.

Carefully getting a glass out, you rinsed it absentmindedly and then headed for the fridge to get a bottle of water out. Just as you took the cap off, ready to pour the contents into the glass, you heard a loud cracking noise. It came from your bedroom, so you immediately winced, hoping that the bed frame you worked so hard to assemble didn’t just fall apart when left unattended. If that happened when you were sleeping on it, it would have certainly given you a broken hip.

Closing the fridge and putting the water bottle down, you headed to your room to check what had happened, only to run into Jaebum who was, surprisingly, on his way out of it. You gave him a weird look, not really reaching the conclusion until you entered your room and saw what caused the crack you’ve heard before.

“You broke my bed?!” you thundered, unable to imagine how much strength it had to take Jaebum to actually break one of the boards off its hinges. You couldn’t even fix the damage right away!

When you stormed into his bedroom the next second, Jaebum was very clearly trying to refrain from smiling but you still noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you yelled.

“I didn’t do anything,” he told you calmly. “But since your bedframe broke – how sad – now you can help me build mine. We can split the money. Now, where do I put this bracket-thing?”

              chapter directory

[early-sxnsets]

writer’s tag

i was tagged by @basic-banshee (thank you for the tag!!!)

1. how did you start writing?

ooh boy this is a Story. okay uhh i was raised in this cult thing (long story that i’m willing to tell ltr) and part of our education process was writing books so uh i wrote a full length children’s book at like 6 y/o (maybe 5? i think i was 6 tho) and i wrote a couple more before we left. i kept writing tho and i’ve always sort of creatively wrote for myself, then at the end of 6th grade into 7th grade i found the wonders of fanfiction and i was like holy shit so i started writing johnlock fanfics (oof) and uh here i am now

2. what was your first writing project? tell us a little about it.

it was uh about some horses and girls and i’m not saying it was horseland but it was basically horseland. i don’t remember much except one of them nearly died after falling into a ditch because i was a dark and disturbed child (and an even more dark and disturbed adult now tbh) but there was that happy ending. so yeah. that.

3. what is your preferred mediums for writing first drafts?

word docs. i usually move it to a good doc after i’m done, but i like starting with word

4. what rituals or habits do you have around writing?

there’s a good couple. i usually get ideas on a whim, so i do a shitty outline on my phone (honestly it’s laughable if you look at them. i showed a friend a plan list and she started cracking up because most of it is just “??????”) and try to set up a plot flow first before writing. for original works, i actually draw the characters first so i can kinda have a fully put together mental image before i work. while writing, i put on (typically instrumental) music that goes with the mood of the fic (for example, for my demon fic, i put on The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey album) whenever working to kinda put myself in the mindset.

5. we all have a “type” - of character, plot, theme - what is yours?

oohh boy. uh, pain. i like writing people hurting and in distress. angst? hell yeah baby. character wise i write a lot of kinda bitter or sarcastic queer people who are secret softies. plot wise i usually go with a “man vs. self” shit. love that internal struggle.

6. introduce us to one (or more!) of your OCs!

heheh okay uhh i’ll start with my current project, a sapphic graphic novel i’m working on. there’s Summer, who’s a high femme lesbian. she’s like... the proper looking girlfriend who likes sweaters and long flow-y skirts and makeup but she’s the rebel and gets into trouble and smokes and gets fucked up on stolen vodka way too often. she’s short and a lil chubby and she’s just the problematic fave. her girlfriend, (who’s actual name is still up for debate, but i just call her Matchstick because she dyes her hair bright/unnatural red and that’s what Summer calls her) rides a motorcycle and wears leather and jeans, but she’s a straight (heh) A student who meditates in the morning and writes sappy poetry for her girlfriend. she’s like... average taller and kinda awkwardly lanky in that way, too. this is set in suburban New Jersey and Summer has a thick NJ accent while Matchstick moved around most of her life because her dad was military (nasty divorce about 3 years prior to when the story is set) but she finally settled with her mom and little brother.

i have another OC that i abandoned that i might bring into the graphic novel (despite her having her own story that i don’t quite know if i’ll finish? it was something i started working on like 3 years ago and abandoned because it’s a tad cliche). her name is ayala and she’s a mixed jew (half ashkenazi, half mizrahi) who’s got a grunge punk aesthetic and she’s the classic bitter bi bitch who just drinks black coffee and complains. honestly? light of my life. she sneaks butterfly knives into NJ and takes a grater to her jeans and just ugh. fave.

7. what’s your favorite genre to read?

fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, and queer YA romance (i have a building library of these)

8. favorite genre to write?

fantasy, queer YA, and not exactly horror but dark stories (i’m writing a morbid children’s storybook rn to just str8 up submit to college board for a drawing portfolio)

9. how do you conduct your authorial research?

hah. google, usually. sometimes i ask my roommate shit, like once i leaned over my bed, looked at him and said “do demons have lairs?” and he thought i said layers so he looked at me, squinted and said slowly “like ogres?”

10. what does your editing (gasp) process look like?

hahAH nah it’s usually me writing shit out, like SLAMMING that shit out, then sometimes reading over it before i put it on my doc to edit. once it’s on the doc, i set my betas to it (sometimes more than my usual beta or two) and i usually read over it while they’re reading too so i edit then too? once they’re finished, i edit whatever suggestions. then i usually do another comb through, looking for little shit, then i share that shit.

11. what are your favorite tropes?

*chanting* MAN VS. SELF MAN VS. SELF MAN VS. SELF i love me some internal struggle. that and miscommunications and poor communication. basically anything that creates angst.

12. show off your writing space

i’m too tired rn but it’s just my loft bed. that’s it. it’s an ikea bed with a bunch of pillows and blankets on it, fairy lights wrapped around one side, and a shelf next to my head for my laptop/food/drinks/anything else i need

13. what is the most useful piece of writing advice you’ve ever used?

it’s odd because it isn’t exactly writing advice, but i use it in reference to my writing. i’m told that i tend to over-complicate shit, that i explain too much and i need to take a step back, and i kinda use that in my writing. it makes me look over paragraphs sometimes and just cut it because hey, that’s either not needed or i can explore the character in other ways than just saying how they’re like. i feel like it really helps because rather than saying shit about the character, i try to make them show it in their actions. it helps, i suppose.

14. what’s the least useful piece of advice you’ve ever ignored?

“do they have to be gay?”

15. your writing beverage/snack of choice?

oh boy okay this really depends on when i’m writing. if i write during early/mid-day, it’s usually a huge mug of breakfast tea with two spoonfuls of sugar, milk, and some kedem tea biscuits (usually original, but sometimes vanilla). sometimes i’ll make myself some instant noodles, if i’m really hungry. if it’s night time, it’s black coffee, and a lot of it.

16. how do you compile your ideas?

fffff uhhhh my note app on my samsung akdsfdsh okay i hate me too but all my ideas go into at least 3 unorganized note files because they always come to me in a whim and i don’t like putting a plot note with a summary note, so i have different note pages for different elements of the story.

17. what are your controversial opinions™ on the craft of writing?

oof uh... don’t write any romance that’s unneeded. also making characters do something shocking doesn’t make the story interesting. writers who feel the need to make a shocking twist aren’t good writers, because if that’s all that’s keeping readers entertained, then it’s not the writing itself, it’s them just trying to figure shit out. i’m not referencing horror or suspense, but let’s say a character who’s known for being aggressively loyal suddenly cheats on their partner for no truly viable reason, then that just feels like sloppy and boring writing that’s supposed to be interesting but isn’t. so, controversial opinion, but if you’re a good writer, you don’t need that kinda shit.

tagging @jessethejoyful @ravenclawbaz @angelsfalling16 @bazypitchandsimonsnow and any other writers who wanna do this (just tag me because i’d wanna see it!!!)

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Inside the Apartment of Refinery29’s Creative Director

http://fashion-trendin.com/inside-the-apartment-of-refinery29s-creative-director/

Inside the Apartment of Refinery29’s Creative Director

As with clothes, the way you decorate a room expresses your personality. In its most ideal form, it signals to guests how you interpret yourself. In this round of Real Cool People, Real Cool Apartments, we check out the London home of Piera Gelardi, the Executive Creative Director and co-founder of Refinery29 . Our intentions behind the creeping: to learn what she’s all about.

Name:

Piera Gelardi

Neighborhood, # of rooms:

Williamsburg-Greenpoint, 3 rooms, 2 bathrooms

What do you do?

If you mean for work, I started Refinery29 (with three other co-founders), and I now act as the Executive Creative Director. That means overseeing the creative vision, leading big brand initiatives, working to shape our company culture, being a spokesperson and mentoring all the super talented creative people who do the real heavy lifting. In my personal time, I love living a big, expressive life full of friends and family, collage nights, dancing in subway cars, adventuring, and appreciating art in all its many forms.

How long have you lived here?

On earth? 37 glorious rotations. In NYC? 20 years. In my current apartment? Five years.

Who do you live with, animals included?

I live with one human man and 15 odd ceramic figurines.

What do you like about the neighborhood?

My favorite thing about the neighborhood is that there are so many entrepreneurial spirits and emerging businesses popping up and a cornucopia of cultural happenings going on at all times — from new restaurants and music venues, to parking lot radio stations, galleries, eat-in movie theaters, and boutiques. Just generally lots going on, lots to discover. The best thing is wandering around on a summer weekend, weaving into different scenes and people-watching. I always come across something new.

What’s the best thing about your home?

I love looking out at McCarren Park. There’s always something going on there… breakdancing, soccer games, toddler birthday parties, drum circles, snowball fights. There’s a magic to watching the leaves change, and the snow come and go, and people’s lives passing by at the park. Sometimes I feel like I’m watching a Pixar movie, especially when an old Italian lady passes by with her little dog and makes all the pigeons fly away.

Do you ever work from home and if so, what’s that like?  

When we started Refinery29, we often worked out of my former apartment (which I shared with my “roommate” Philippe. who is also my husband and co-founder). I found it hugely distracting to work from home. I never want to fold laundry but when I worked from home, I found myself constantly procrastinating by doing otherwise-dreaded household chores. I remember doing all sorts of random things when I should have been working, like making arancini out of leftover risotto for lunch with my co-founder Justin. Getting our first real office was a huge blessing for my focus and productivity.

Now, I usually work at home for an hour or two in the morning over coffee and some fried eggs — it’s my most peaceful time of day when I can really concentrate. But eventually I have to get the fuck out of the house or else I’ll find myself organizing a sock drawer.

What did you think about when decorating? What was the process like?

Growing up, I was fascinated by my Nonna’s house where I spent a lot of time. She lived all over the world and had so many objects in her house that had a back story and memory attached to them. I similarly like to surround myself with art, tchotchkes and furniture that reminds me of people, places and experiences.

I guess I decorate like a collector, adding as I go. A lot of things in my house have come from family and friends, like my dad’s tool cart, my Nonna’s camel stool, a poster from my childhood bathroom, artwork from my college roommates. Most of my other art and objects are from my travels or from creative projects I’ve worked on. I’m a maximalist at heart and being surrounded by things makes me happy and reminds me of all the life I have lived.

Did you have an overall vision in mind when you started decorating? What was it and where’d you get it from?

There is a shoot from World Of Interiors magazine that I’ve always loved that inspired me a lot. It’s from an art collector’s house in Venice, a house that feels at once modern and eclectic, chock-a-block with art, intrigue and painted with beautiful colors. It also had a giant red canoe suspended from the ceiling which looked surprisingly great.

My ceiling isn’t high enough for a hanging boat and we only have three rooms, not a whole house — also, our place isn’t directly on a canal — but otherwise, I feel like I’ve created a similar vibe to that Venice house in my Brooklyn apartment. A storied space.

What are your favorite home “scores” and where are they from?

My favorite objects in my home have a soul that perhaps only I can see. They’re objects that haunt me in the best way, that have drawn me in from dusty corners of thrift stores, or lurking behind the counter at a market, or as the sole object of interest in an otherwise cheesy tourist shop. Some of my besties: a mask from Mexico depicting the most benevolent being on earth, a $1 pencil drawing of a woman with beautifully sad eyes, and a wild, cross-eyed ceramic deer with golden hoofs and a tulle tutu that I swear I could put on a shelf at MoMA and no one would be the wiser. I like to think about the artists who made these objects and hope they can sense that their creations are being doted on.

For someone young and trying to nest, what are your top three tips when it comes to finding /buying items for the home?

Put all your favorite things all over your walls! You can find old frames for cheap and put art or magazine pictures you like in them. I once found a gold, baroque frame on the street and put a picture of Björk and her son in it. We had it on our mantel as though they were part of our family. If you don’t have frames, you can use T-pins — they look chic, like an architect’s office. If you’re a maximalist and visual person like me, having lots of images up is a great way to be surrounded by the abundance of life.

Paint your walls a color. It makes a huge difference and can completely change the mood of your space. If you don’t have any art, you can paint shapes onto your wall. In my old apartment, I used tape to paint stripes on a wall and it looked rad and everyone thought it was so super fancy.

Mix old and new together. Old things have the most character but sometimes IKEA is the most convenient to meet your needs. Having pieces that look brand spanking new next to patinated vintage things can look very intentional and keep your IKEA stuff from looking generic.

Get creative. A coat of paint or a switch-a-roo of drawer handles can totally transform the furniture that you have access to. I’m all about the hack.

What are your favorite household goods/home decor stores?

I love thrift and vintage stores most of all. There are so many treasures — I have fun imagining their backstories. Also, I find that the things I buy that are vintage stay with me a lot longer than any of the generic new things I’ve purchased. The vintage stuff has so much more mojo. Housing Works and RePop are some good brick-and-mortar spots in NYC (also Brooklyn Flea). For vintage finds online, my go-tos are eBay and Craigslist. On the pricey side, 1stDibs has super exquisite things worthy of a museum.

My favorite contemporary home store is my friends’ store Coming Soon on the Lower East Side. I just like to go hang out in there because it smells really good, they’re friendly and funny and have the coolest taste. The store is full of gems on gems on gems. Another beautiful home store is Mociun in Williamsburg. The store is so beautifully designed, I want to move in. Both places work with a lot of super-talented emerging designers too. Oh, now that I’m rambling on about under-the-radar designers, I also want to add Tictail Market into the mix! It’s great for affordable art. They all have online stores, too.

I’ve also found things from all the usual places: Muji, Urban Outfitters, CB2, West Elm, Anthropologie, Target, Etsy. It’s all in the mix.

Most unexpected place to find great things for the home?

The street! People throw all kinds of awesome things away… Craigslist Curb Alerts are a good place to preview what’s being tossed but you often find the best things when you least expect them, wandering around the night before trash pick-up. Now everyone is so paranoid about bed bugs, though, that they’ll probably hate this idea (or worse, sue me).

What’s the one thing every home should have?

Art!

Anything else you want to add?

Like you, your apartment is a work in progress and will change over time.

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Photos by Heidi’s Bridge;@heidisbridge

[3192395]

here we go -- entry #1.

my life has changed quite a bit since my last journals left off. it’s funny because all i’ve wanted for the past three years was to get to where i am now and now that i’m there i’m pretty much the most miserable i’ve ever been. what should be the best thing that ever happened has been overshadowed by every problem and stressful event along the way and it’s just not how i pictured this to go.

so, yes, finally, i’m living with the love of my life in a cute little house on a hill with a big private backyard and no roommates and a bright orange couch and a spiral staircase leading to a loft with terrifying crawlspaces in the walls and two eccentric cats that are essentially our children. sounds like a dream come true but it has come at such a price and my mental state is not in a good place. let’s start with everything that’s happened since the end of july.

1. moving out of my house in boulder. what a disaster. packing is always a pain in the ass but one of my roommates, brittany, had her mom unexpectedly fly in from california to help her pack at the same time i had my friend from new york come to visit and it turned into us arguing over who was going to stay in the empty bedroom. i won because i had told everyone my friend was coming two months beforehand so after that it was a very uncomfortable week because brittany actually hates her mom and they ended up having to share a room. it didn’t help that i was the only one cleaning up the house and fixing chew marks in the molding from brittany’s shitty dog, and scrubbing black lines off the white walls from michael carrying shit down into the basement, and doing the things everyone forgets about like taking all of the food out of the cabinets and refrigerator and washing the fridge out. i even dragged all of the food to the homeless shelter around the corner to donate and got yelled at and chased by an old man with a cane for sneaking things into his garbage pails because we ran out of room in ours. people in boulder are very protective of their garbage and freak out if you go anywhere near it. brittany put a bunch of stuff out on the front lawn and posted a craigslist ad for people to come and take it before she left but people barely took anything so not only did i have to find a way to dispose of that but she also left rugs and broken lamps and giant flower pots in the garage. on the bright side, she left her crockpot behind and i managed to grab that before anyone else got to it and i use it all the time. i also stayed behind to help daniel re-pack his jeep because he had things overflowing out of the car windows until i took everything out and repacked it tetris-style. i’m a good roommate. i also don’t really miss that house or the people i lived with. i’m so glad that phase of my life is over. good riddance!

2. moving in with dan. we were hoping to find a place to move into immediately and make a smooth transition together but we couldn’t find an affordable place in time so i ended up staying with him and his roommates until we did. this is where everything started to get really stressful. not only did he not discuss this with them until the last minute but he also didn’t tell them i would be bringing a cat. on top of all of that, we ended up adopting a kitten which inspired them to adopt one of his siblings so we had two new cats in the house and he still didn’t mention the one i already owned. it ended up working out pretty well because my cat refused to move so he stayed behind at the old house and attempted to live with the new family who moved in. i had to drive back and forth to bring him food every other day so he wouldn’t die until i eventually captured him two months later. it was really difficult for me to live in dan’s house. i felt uncomfortable there and it didn’t help that i had to share a bathroom with three other people, plus the constant stream of visitors that stayed with them. i really just wanted to get the fuck out of there. even dan kept telling me that it was okay i was there, that i should be comfortable, but then he would give me an attitude for wearing shorts or a skirt in the 100 degree weather and accuse me of turning the air conditioner off so i could wear less clothing around his roommates. i’m sorry, but i was raised by a single mother who always told me “dress for the weather! we can’t keep the heat/air conditioner on all the time! turn the lights off! the bill was too high last month!” and i was staying in a house where the AC was blasting even when nobody was home and they had 30 different sources of light on at once during the day. it drove me crazy. dan drove me crazy. it’s true what they say about not knowing a person until you live with them. things just started going really terribly once we lived together.

3. he ruined all of my furniture. seriously. i’ve never asked dan to help me with anything except for moving out of my old house and he couldn’t even do that right. i told him beforehand that i could just sell the little bit of furniture i had -- a bed frame, mattress, ikea dresser, cube shelf, nightstand -- and put that towards a security deposit for when we find a house, or we could just save it all and use it for his son when he’s able to come and stay with us. he insisted i not sell it so i didn’t but when moving day came i needed him to pack it all into his truck because i didn’t have the strength or the room to do it myself. so he did. all of that furniture was a year old, and guess what? now it’s garbage. he left my unfinished dresser laying in the back of his work truck, totally exposed to the elements, along with the bed frame, nightstand, and two mattress covers. i kept asking him to take it out and put it in the garage or something and he kept saying “i’ll do it later!” and never did. it rained twice that week, plus he was driving around to all of these jobs and leaving his truck parked outside where anybody could have stolen things out of it. now, months later, i’m finding out piece by piece that all of my shit is destroyed. i found my mattress covers soaked and molded in the back of the truck. half of the pieces of my bed frame are missing and the ones that i found are chipped and warped and disgusting. the dresser is warped beyond repair and covered in mold. the nightstand is missing. my memory foam mattress is okay but has a piece ripped out of it from aggressive manhandling pulling the foam apart. the only things that are still intact are my lamp and cube shelf because i brought those over myself. it’s just not fair and he doesn’t understand why i’m seething with rage every time i think about it or why i can’t let it go. i don’t know, maybe because it’s 100% NOT OKAY that this even happened at all? because i’m finding out one piece at a time that the very few things i own are ruined for no reason? because this is a direct result of you ignoring me and not respecting my things? and instead of taking responsibility and being genuinely apologetic you first twist it around and say “well, you could have taken it out and you didn’t” or “i’ll just buy you new stuff” which isn’t the fucking point? because your first instinct is to justify your actions instead of just being a normal sorry person? and apologies don’t mean shit when you try to blame me first? i know that things are just things but when you’ve spent two years giving everything you have to a person and they take something away from you for no reason it really hurts, especially when you don’t have very much to begin with. so yeah, i’m still mad.

4. moving into the new house. i didn’t like this house very much to begin with. we went on a tour at the last minute and dan seemed to really like it. it felt so small and cramped and dirty to me. the location is nice, being on a hill above the street is nice, having a big yard and detached garage and back alley parking is nice, but the inside was basically a poorly constructed mexican brothel with the lumpiest walls i’ve ever seen in my life. we decided to skimcoat the living room walls to flatten them out, we painted every room, and we whitened up the trim because whoever lived here before painted it all grey. it looks so much better now but getting all of that done was torture. first of all, dan insisted we should put work into fixing the house up so the landlord would take money off the rent. this is why he went along with my idea of skimcoating the living room even though i said “we don’t have to do this, let’s just move into the house and deal with it.” it took almost a week of sanding down the walls and polluting our lungs before it was ready to be painted and even the painting took about five coats all together so it felt like an endless project. of course dan did pretty much all the sanding on his own because there was only one good sander, and the whole time he was doing that he kept complaining about how he had no time to do anything else because he works all day and then spends hours sanding down the walls and then goes to bed. we hadn’t officially moved into the house at that point so little me thinks i’m doing the both of us a favor by helping out in whatever way i can, so i go out and spend a shitload of money buying things we need for the house. i’m very good at remembering the little things that people forget, like loading up on paper towels, toilet paper, wipes, garbage bags, cleaning supplies, soap, ice trays, etc. i got a couple of bathroom rugs and a shower curtain. i spent a bunch of money on basic kitchen stuff that everyone needs, like condiments, jars of sauce, cooking oil, herbs, baking stuff, tupperware, baking dishes, mixing bowls, forks and knives and utensilis. there are so many things a person needs when they’re moving into a new place! i knew we were starting from scratch and had to stock the whole house. i even got pens, pencils, sharpies, tape, glue, tacks, safety pins, needles, detergent, tealights -- so much shit i knew we would reach for one day and realize we didn’t have. and on top of that i had bought things a few months ago that i knew we would need. this really great cookware set, towels and washclothes, a knife set, a keurig, and dishes. and guess what he tells me after i spend all of this money and fill the house with useful things? “you’re selfish.” yup. that’s what he said. why did he say that? apparently because “we didn’t do it together.” let me get this straight -- you’re complaining about how you have so much to do, you’re physically exhausted, you have no time to do anything, so i go to the store and spend hundreds of dollars making sure we have everything we need when we finally move in rather than move into an empty house and that makes me selfish? o - f u c k i n g - k a y. i can’t let that one go, either. i’m still mad.

5. the court case is over. dan did really well playing his own lawyer in this court case from hell and he WON. i got him a little cake that said “not guilty” and everything. it was a really great day and i cried because i was so happy for him. the happiness didn’t last long, though, because even though he won he still can’t see his son for two years because he missed one court date which is absolutely absurd. it sucks and i’m really heartbroken for him that he can’t see his own kid and just be the great dad that he is without everyone around him trying to take that away, but at the same time i’m relieved that his cunt of an ex isn’t allowed anywhere near us. it would be great to have a relationship with osiris and be able to hang out with him and take him on adventures but i don’t think this chick is going to stop making it impossible for us so i’ve kind of given up on that idea. any time we ever had fun together she ruined it by telling him he isn’t allowed to like me so what’s the point.

6. i have a really cute cat. look at him he’s just really cute. i can’t handle all the cuteness.

7. my anxiety has catapulted to extremes and i don’t know what to do about it. when i first moved to colorado i felt pretty anxiety-free because i was in a new place and didn’t know anyone and my brain didn’t have the opportunity to attach its anxieties to anything, but that has changed. i feel anxious all the time now. all of the stress over the past few months has shaken my nerves so much and now i’m getting panic attacks the same way i used to back in new york. any time i get in the car with dan i feel sick to my stomach. any time i think about finding a job or i have an interview it suddenly feels like my bones weigh a thousand pounds and i can’t move off the couch. i physically cannot bring myself to do anything. my stomach aches constantly. for the past 6 months or so i haven’t been able to eat anything without getting a stomach ache after or without my intestines swelling up. it’s not good. i feel so unhealthy and depressed every second and dan definitely adds to that, but when things are going okay with him it takes such a small thing to upset me and make me shut down again. i’m really struggling with how to deal with this.

8. i’m desperately, desperately homesick. i just want to go home. i want to crawl into my mom’s lap and drink a cosmo. i want to play with my sister’s kids, i want to get a drink with my cousin, i want to be able to see my doctor whenever i need to do, i want to see my brother’s shining face, i want to cook dinner for my dad and let him know i appreciate him. but i can’t. because i made the choice to move out here and pursue a colorado life knowing full well what i was leaving behind and not realizing how miserable my existence is without my family in it. i feel like i have to choose between my relationship and my family and it’s stressing me out so much that i can’t have them both together. i’m struggling  with how to deal with this, too. 

so, that gives you a general idea of where i’m at right now. i moved into a new house i didn’t really want to live in, a bunch of my things got ruined in the process, i fight with my boyfriend more often than not and he doesn’t seem to understand why, i miss my family, i don’t have a job but i do have a cat, and my depression has immobilized me almost completely. i think that writing it all out like this will help me verbalize my feelings and hopefully that will make it easier to talk to dan about it because talking to him has always been really difficult for me. i think when he gets home tonight we should have a talk. i’m going to go mentally prepare for that now.