Your Sugar Baby Over Night Bag : Tips and Tricks

Your SD has asked you to sleep over and to pack an over night bag. What do you bring? The last time I brought an overnight bag, I forgot a very simple item. A brush. lol So here’s some tips, tricks and items it’s always good to have in an overnight bag. 

1. Know his patterns. 

Hopefully by now that you’re sleeping over at his place you have an idea of his patters. Where he likes to go, how he likes to dress and the activities he likes to participate in. This is key to packing your wardrobe. For example, my SD is a socialite. He loves to go out to nice restaurants, preferably with live music so he can bring me to dance while everyone is watching. Aka, anywhere where he can find potential clients and be the limelight. 

2. Know his timing. 

Is your SD an early riser or does he like to lounge around with you in the morning? My SD is a get up and go kind of guy. So lingerie really isn’t an option. I do pack my makeup in a convenient that I can hang on a towel rack that was it’s easily accessible and everything is organized. Your SD wants to have fun, he’ll get frustrated if he has to sit and wait for you to dig through your bag to find things. Be clean and respectful.   

3. Pack light but efficiently. 

Just like my makeup bag. It’s clean, out of the way and on a towel rack. I pack my essentials. Get travel size containers to put shampoo and conditioner in or lotion. If you bring full bottles of thing your bag will be heavy and bulky. He’ll think you want to live with him, not just stay the night. lol 

Checklist :

Makeup: Again, my essentials.
-Small eyeshadow pallet (ONE)
-Highlight and Contour pallet
-EYE LASH GLUE (Super embarrassing if you forget this) 
-Nude lipstick (one)
-Essential Brushes I keep to a minimum. 
-Perfume - my SD loves smells

Toiletries :

-Tampons, even if you don’t need them, mother nature can be weird so just have them. 
-Baby wipes. It’s a really quick way to clean “down there” Without taking a shower.  Not to mention they can take your makeup off easily too. 
-Hair Brush. Yes, please don’t forget this. 
-Hair tie. Also a super important thing to have. How can you wash your face when your hair is in the way? Using a towel to wrap your dry hair in is not fun. (Been there) 
-Face wash
-Toothbrush and toothpaste 
-Cotton pads
-Your own small face towel. Don’t wipe your mascara on his towel. lol 
-Contact solution
-Contact case 
-Bobi pins 

Clothes :

-A really nice dress - What if he doesn’t tell you where you’re going? I always have a dress and heels on hand.
-Dark wash jeans. There’s something aesthetically pleasing about dark wash jeans. You can dress them up, dress them down. 
-Nude heels. I usually bring nude that way i can wear them with my dress, jeans whatever and match no matter what. 
-A casual outfit that looks nice. I always bring a dress then a casual outfit for the next day just incase we go to breakfast. 
-COMFORTABLE lingerie. Is that even a thing? If you don’t sleep naked but don’t want to wear your regular Mickey Mouse Pjs, then get soft comfortable lingerie that isn’t uncomfortable to sleep in. Not to mention, if you do sleep naked but are casually hanging around the house, it’s fun to walk around in. 
-Extra underwear. 2 pairs. 
-Nude bra or sports bra
-Cute sandals 
That’s basically it! Hope it Helps. 
-Samantha N.B. 


Yesterday I got on and looked through my activity and I saw I had been mentioned by another smol engineer in one of their posts that had a cute comic of Spyder zappin’ and backstabbing him, saying how he didn’t trust me. I followed them after seeing it, but didn’t reblog it cause I wanted to reply with a picture, which I made today,

I went to go find the post but it was gone from my activity, and the blog was gone from my ‘following’. I searched through my internet page history and it said the blog is no longer exists.

The blog had to have been new, the post mentioning me was only the second post on it. Anyone know of it? Or who run it? I don’t know why they deleted but I feel awful

If you’re seeing this former ask-smol-engie where’d ya go?

The framed print of the Periodic Table of Elements is missing from his bedroom wall. They’re out of milk again, even though there was a fairly decent amount left last he checked, as he was making tea the previous afternoon. And his flatmate’s military haircut appears at least a full centimetre longer than its state just a day prior.

In hindsight, those oddities Sherlock has noticed this morning, observations he couldn’t immediately formulate a deduction to adequately explain, should’ve been sufficient clues.

The critical – and most alarming – sign that it most certainly isn’t just another day of his life at his (and his blogger’s) 221B, however, arrives in the form of a plain envelope. Addressed to him. Well, to ‘Mr S. Holmes’.

Enclosed is a ticket to a symphony concert (over in the States, in NYC), an introductory flyer (containing a photograph of the very fresh-faced orchestra, featuring bright, innocent eyes and a few missing-tooth grins), and an unsigned note, penned in elegant script: “Don’t be late.”

The detective’s gaze fixes upon somewhere specific on the photograph, and is for a long moment incapable of moving away. Amongst the performers sits a dark-haired, neatly dressed boy in the front row. A child whose confident, lopsided smile reminds him so much of-

He shakes his head, but fails to clear his mind of painful memories threatening to surface, memories that he’d wished to leave behind amidst the rolling plains and sweltering heat in that Pakistani city and never have to revisit.

He’d realised, mere days after, that a significant part of him did desperately hope to win her, yet despite the heart’s insistent whisper, their respective pride decisively yielded dispute instead of ‘dinner’.

He absolutely despises how, years of silence later, three pieces of paper are all it takes to make something in him once again flutter.

There is no doubt that the invitation is from The Woman. Nor that the charming boy, the child that is sure to shine as the star of the performance, is none other than her own. What he doesn’t understand, is the reason behind such a move. Move? He’d thought their game was long concluded, and he certainly wasn’t the winner.

What’s she hoping to achieve now, taunting him with the family she’s clearly succeeded in building? Tearing at old wounds that haven’t healed and probably never will, as if there hadn’t been enough hurt that they each caused the other?

Nothing, nothing makes sense.

..but there is a way to rectify that, he supposes, hands still steepled beneath his chin.

He reaches for the desk beside him and flips his laptop open. A few clicks and keyboard taps later, the British Airways booking page appears on the screen.

It’s a nice, blue-skied morning, after a night of precipitation and thunder. Sherlock Holmes is one swift motion away from pulling his bedroom door open when he pauses, his attention suddenly caught by something to his left.

A Periodic Table print, on the wall. The one that should currently be resident in NYC, not here in London. The same one that he’d gently taken off himself and placed into a poster tube, to accompany a small boy on the flight back to his American home, a couple of years ago, at the youngster’s request.

“No! It won’t be the same. I don’t want a new one, Dad, I want this. Yours.”

Nero had taken a keen interest in the sciences, even back then, when he still liked to be carried and swung around. He’d ask to be lifted up in front of the large framed print, hug his father’s neck tight, and tilt his head to study the columns with concentration. He’d point towards individual elements, and demand to hear cool stories of their discoveries, to learn their unique properties, to know everything there is to know about these fascinating constituents that make up the world..

A slight curve stretches its way across the detective’s lips at the thought of his son. A far-too-telling smile. One that he has to remember to erase from his face before entering the living room to greet John. One to which no passing observer would’ve spared a second glance before assigning the simple, ordinary label of ‘fondness and pride’.

But proud he is, indeed. In curiosity and cleverness, in exploration and mischief, the plantlet cheekily flourishes, with much more liberty than he ought to have been allowed. Yet it isn’t as if either parent has any real power to constrain his access to what latest objectives he’s chosen to set his determined young mind upon – both Sherlock and Irene’s well-honed people-manipulating craft has proved unconditionally susceptible to what they see in those big, blue eyes. Nor do they truly intend to deny the boy at all.

Directing his thoughts back to the present, Sherlock examines the framed print before him – is this yet another coded message from Irene or Nero? Has it been delivered and discreetly put up within the time frame of a few hours, whilst he was asleep? They couldn’t have been visiting Baker Street themselves – he would’ve observed. And the boy must’ve been busy with rehearsals recently, with his first big concert this coming weekend.

Speaking of which, he expects to pay them a visit very soon.


Overnight by Hadar Ariel Magar