#built ins under stairs

[championbuttmaster]

Home Bar Galley Image of a home bar in a small mountain style galley with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor, shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, granite countertops, and a black backsplash.

[merakiblr]

Sun Room - Traditional Sunroom

Sunroom - mid-sized traditional sunroom idea

[celebsaggers]

Home Bar Galley Image of a home bar in a small mountain style galley with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor, shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, granite countertops, and a black backsplash.

[ultimatenightcore]

Sun Room Medium in Milwaukee Example of a mid-sized classic sunroom design

[ello-meno-p]

Sun Room Milwaukee Large elegant sunroom image

[bhujerbaa]

Atlanta Walk Out Basement Example of a large transitional walk-out porcelain tile and brown floor basement design with a home theater and white walls

[heidisysto]

Boston Mudroom Foyer Idea for a mid-sized transitional foyer with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor.

[in-excelsis]

Mudroom Raleigh Large trendy entryway image with a medium wood front door, white walls, and a light wood floor.

[evilgwrl]

What abt 141xpregnant!reader (or not pregnant, ur choice, I dont mind!!) And someone gets into their house and reader is all alone so she calls the boys while they're out (somewhere idk)

can be angst or fluff <3

Thank you for this idea, I hope I did it justice for you anon <3

CW: Threats of violence (not against reader), break ins, fluff

You stared at yourself in the glossy reflection, soaked rag scented with the unmistakable smell of cleaning spray dabbing at the final fingerprint, a satisfied grin on your face. You hobbled to the kitchen, ankles slightly swollen as a hand rubbed against the plushness of your belly, a gentle kick answering you back.

You felt content. You were six months pregnant and surrounded by four incredibly devoted men (who were currently running all the errands you could no longer do). Gentle feet padded against the wooden floorboards, your back humming with a subtle ache as you groaned, your body flopping down against your comfiest pillow.

Wispy lashes fell over curled lids, the zip of a fan hushing you to sleep. You awoke to rustling, your window cracked open for fresh air.

“Stupid foxes,” you muttered, rolling towards the window to shoo the pesky creatures away from your vegetables. Your heart halted, however, face a pasty shade of terror as you watched a figure, much larger than a fox, break the glass to your back door, the stone floor of your patio humming against the shards of crystal.

Pesky fingers reached for your phone, a monotone strain coming from your throat as you phoned for Price, eyes now a glassy bowl of unshed tears.

“Hey love, you ok?” The normally comforting tone only spurred your anxiety as you choked out a sob, an instant call of your name blasting through the speakers of the phone.

“There’s someone inside the house,” you choked out, your voice a mere whisper as you huddled in the corner, fingers twisting the lock on your bedroom door.

“Call Gaz in the meantime; we’ll be home in 10 minutes.”

You were a whimpering mess, swollen body trembling in your ensuite as Gaz attempted to calm you down, telling you the police were on the way. There was a commotion downstairs, kitchenware clattering as you presumed, he was rummaging around. Timber creaked under a lead foot, stairs straining under the man's weight as he stomped upstairs.

“Kyle, he’s upstairs,” you trembled, your throat constricted with a coil of anxiety as your limbs tremored, a protective hand strung across the swell of your belly. The Sergeant’s voice brought you no comfort as you heard the door to the nursery swing open, the squeak of a baby toy rattling against the wood. Your gut was burning, tender hands clutching against the marble counter in a motion to hold yourself up, your knees locking up as you clattered to the floor.

Price’s hands were stained permanent ivory, his knuckles protruding from broken skin as he pulled down your street, head beams flickering at the cars before calloused tyres screeched down a turning lane, the bulky SUV swerving into the driveway. Simon had rummaged through the glovebox on the first ring of your call, massive frame bouldering out of the unparked car as his keys twitched in the door, the steady frame of Soap in toe.

Rough fingers wrapped around carbon steel, silent footsteps thrumming against wallpaper as you shifted in the bathroom, gentle sobs wracking through your body.

You were unaware of what was going on outside your bedroom, the faint sounds of a man’s voice, unrecognisable through the thickness of the walls only spurring anxiety shrill of terror through you.

You knew they would never let anything happen to you, but what if something happened to them in the process? Sure, they were trained for combat but that doesn’t make you invincible.

You clutched your stomach, humming to yourself in an attempt to calm down.

Simon was livid, they all were. The house you had built for them all years ago was now tainted. A place you should be safe in was no longer available.

Soap’s voice was sharp as he entered the nursery, enjoying the twisted satisfaction of watching the intruder still as the safety of the gun unlocked.

“You make a f’cking movement and I’ll put a bullet in ye head, ye hear me?”

There was a slow nod from the man as Ghost entered, slamming him against the wall with a crash, his hands tied behind his back as he lunged him down the stairs. There was a faint echo of sirens in the distance as you sheltered yourself, still unsure of what was happening.

There was a rattle against the door, a soft voice calling out to you.

“It’s just me, love. Open the door.”

The doorknob felt crumbly under your touch, fingers barely able to twist it. Price’s body was warm as he engulfed your shaking figure, wet cheeks staining his shirt in a soppy mess. Thick hands grabbed at the plush of your thighs, lifting you with ease into burly arms, the tickle of his moustache against your ears as he lolled a soft apology to you.

“Shouldn’t ‘ave left you alone dove, feel like I failed you.”

The captain’s heart was bleak, an ephemeral feeling of guilt worn on his shoulder before you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, soggy lips placing a feathery kiss upon the worn skin.

“It’s not your fault, John. Could’ve happened to anyone on our street.”

The night was slow, Gaz consoling the police as Soap and Price comforted you, tending to your every need as Ghost stood outside, dark eyes glaring into the back of the police van at the man. You assured them you were okay, delicate hands rubbing your belly as you cooed, your heart finally returning to its normal bpm.

Once the blaring of red and blue lights simmered to a halt, and Ghost had run out to get a replacement door (otherwise, he wouldn’t have slept from keeping guard all night), you could fully relax. Your body was flush against the comfort of your L-shaped couch and Simon’s calloused back, fingers running through the roots of your hair.

Your eyes succumbed to temporary slumber at the touch, scalp tingling from the simplicity of gentle tugs. You were carried to bed, arms balled at the soft cotton of Soap’s shirt you had stolen. You nestled quickly into the comfort of your bed, lashes flat against your cheeks.

They all watched you, hands folded as they watched the rise of your chest, a flutter of breath leaving your lips every time it fell.

“Beautiful, ain’t she?” Price mumbled, cerulean eyes lapping in the mere sight of you, a proud glow comforting him knowing you were theirs.

“Damn right,” Ghost grunted.

There was a creak against the floorboards as your eyes opened, your voice delicate with sleep, “Will you guys stay tonight? All of you? Please.”

“Shoot us in the head if we ever say no to anything you say,” Soap uttered, a gentle slap whacking around his head from Simon as Kyle leaned into the bed, heavy hands immediately wrapping around your swell belly.

The night ended with whispers of affirmation and one happy girl.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The listing describes this 1974 home as "eclectic," but this is such interesting architecture, you have to wonder who designed it. The 2bd, 3ba home in Lincoln, NE is right on the Capitol Beach lake. It's listed for $499,999 + $85mo. HOA.

I like the stone entrance.

Then, you go down two steps, and another 2 steps, depending on where you want to be. There's a couch to the left, so that must be the living room.

Okay, there's a partial slate floor, stone wall, and a built-in bench. You can see the floor above.

Oh, here it is, I was looking for the fireplace. Why is it here, though?

The stairs on the right look like they go up to an indoor terrace.

They left a nice piece of art up on that wall.

I thought that the 3 windows over the couch were for the kitchen, but it's over here.

You can see the indent where the table was. There's a built-in china cabinet. Nice. I like the brick, but why did they put the slate floor around carpet? I don't like carpet near kitchens or in bathrooms.

Kitchen's nice. I like the color of the cabinets.

Look at this crazy tub in the bathroom. It has stairs, and 2 benches. Look at the toilet in a nook behind the door.

You can fit some furniture on this terrace. Doesn't it look like a sailboat across the way? It's a fireplace.

The fireplace protrudes over the ground floor.

This must be a sitting area around the fireplace.

A rounded stone fireplace is up here, so this is another sitting room, or is it the primary bedroom? I'm so confused.

Definitely a bedroom that's quite large and has a loft, too.

The en-suite is tucked away under the loft.

The closets are walk-ins.

The 3rd bath.

Another room thru the trap door.

The home is on a .26 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/912-N-Lakeshore-Dr-Lincoln-NE-68528/6587332_zpid/

[bitchimasnake-sss]

i love reading your fics, they always give me 🦋🦋🦋 i love them so much, so, i want to make a request a angst-comfort where zoro and reader are dating but they got into a fight (*cough* zoro got jealous and starts to question reader's loyalty *cough*) but it ends happily because I don't want cry. n e way, continue writing stories, you write them so well... 😚

im so glad you like my work!! and thankyouu so much for sending in the request, let's get to itt <3

moss and towel ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: in which, you and zoro have been dating for six months. but after one fight night and growing distances, he finds himself questioning everything you've built together.

warnings: (poor attempts at writing) angst, zoro acts like an idiot, profanities. yeah, that's about it.

the winds were cruel tonight and even crueler were you. atleast there was some comfort in the cold gusts, some reason in the way they played against the swordsman's skin and left behind selfish goosebumps. atleast, he could attempt to understand it with nami's weather charts or whatnot.

but you. how could he attempt to understand you?

his eyebrows bunched as he stared up, fixing his gaze against the twinkling points. groaning, he put his hand over his eyes. maybe in a way, sure, it was his fault. he was never good with words or those fancy poems or haikus. he was never the one to resort to affection. but how was he supposed to fix this?

the first mate of the ship rested a fraction of his bodyweight against the wooden railing of the crow's nest. the wind tousled his unkempt hair and running a hand through his moss-green locks, he vaguely tried to remember how long it had been since nami dragged him into the bathroom and gave him a haircut again.

probably too long. he concluded with a sigh as the soft tresses caressed the mid-point of the back of his neck.

he was supposed to meet his girlfriend here. that's what had been decided. just you, him and the infinitely infinite night sky. the swordsman had even decided to talk about his feelings 'neath the dark abyss of the sky (even if he hated the mere idea of that).

but it had been 30 minutes and there were no signs of you anywhere.

life had been hectic for the both of you lately, whether it was because of the constant run-ins with the marines, zoro having to accompany luffy to side-quests or some other shit the sea sprouted every once in a while. either ways, it meant that you and him saw less and less of each-other as each day passed him by.

resigning himself to a tired sigh, zoro decided to climb downwards. you were not gonna come, that much was sure.

as his heavy feet planted against the wooden floor, he took a second to collect his thoughts. he started walking the stairs to go under the deck, to the common space where most of the crew lounged at the end of the day. descending, he thought of all possible explainations. maybe you had been caught by someone else and forced to listen to one of their anecdotes, maybe nami had asked you to help with the log pose calculations of the last island, or maybe chopper wanted you to help him grind some fresh medicine.

maybe-

he stepped inside the common place with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart and immediately saw you. you, ever so beautiful with you soft smiles and your lame jokes. you with your flowing hair and unruly habits. you, that was currently laughing along to something that shit-cook was talking about.

he must have caught your gaze cause you immediately looked away from sanji and to your boyfriend, giving him a soft smile. but he left the room without returning that gesture and you found yourself on your feet, walking after him and confused.

you trailed after him, calling his name out sweetly till you reached his room and he shut the door before you could get in.

"hey!" you laughed playfully, twisting the handle with ease and stepping inside. you closed the door behind you and tucked your arms around your chest, sporting a lively pout.

but he seemed to have to reaction to your antics, instead, deciding to carefully lay his three swords on the bed behind him as if he was courting the swords and not you.

"what's up with you?" you raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the way the man sat at the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff. when he said nothing, you pressed again, this time a bit more direct, "why are you grumbling now?"

he's been like this for the past few days and now that he refused to elaborate, you found your patience slipping off of you like a thin overcoat, leaving you behind in your ugly, impatient skin.

today had been hard, like any other day. and for some reason or the other, instead of inviting you into his arms, this man had swore to make your life even more difficult.

"zorooo," groaning, you asked again, "can you stop being so dramatic?"

his head snapped up, eyes finding yours with wicked ease. his jaw was clenched tight, face red as if he was burning up, "i am being dramatic? me?"

"yeah? you're being so fucking weird." you sighed, "why?"

"i dunno, go ask that fucking cook maybe?" he grumbled.

if the exasperation on your face wasn't obvious until now, after that comment, it was surely on full display.

"what?" you hissed, "what is up with you and all these weird accusations?"

"as i said, i dunno. ask that fuckin' waiter instead, why don't you? i'm sure he'd have some answers lined up."

"why are you dragging sanji into this?"

"why are you defending him?" he stood up, his face mirroring your exasperation tenfold. he crossed his arms similarly to yours and the muscles shifted impatiently under his shirt.

you threw you hands upwards, "im not defending him! i am aski—"

"—yes you are defending him, don't even."

you were tired.

god knew you every inch of your muscles were alight with exhaustion, your head was pounding and if he wanted to fight you, you wouldn't even have it in you to fight back. these past few days had been enough on their own. so, you sighed, taking on a resigned tone, "i am so tired, zoro. can't we do it another day?"

"yeah, right." he grumbled again, his eyebrows bunching together in a characteristic manner, "everything needs to be pushed back with you, right?"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you were sure smoke was rising from the top of your head and your pupils were comically blown out, "i was tired and wanted to take some time off, so, i had sat down. and sanji found me to make some ideal chit-chat. god forbid i be tired for once-"

"i was waiting at the crow's nest for the past 30 minutes, where were you?"

"huh—" fuck. your eyes widened as the terrible realization set in. almost on instinct, your fingers reached out to touch him so as to makeup for the terrible deed you had committed. but your boyfriend pulled himself back, dodging your careful grasp before rasping out, "don't."

"zoro, i'm sorry! really, i genuinely cannot believe i forgot—"

"so, you forgot me over that fucking cook?"

"no!" you repeated, slower, "no, of course not. i was just tired and—"

"—and you decided to go off with him instead?" he scoffed, "i thought we were dating and yet, i think we've barely had any time to just spend together. every time it's someone or the other you have to rely on, not me."

"zoro..." you started carefully but he cut off you off, "don't zoro me. it's either nami or sanji or luffy or someone or the other. i wouldn't be surprised if you're fucking blondie behind my back too."

you stared at him, shocked. the wretched feeling gnawed at your insides till you looked at him in pure, utter disgust. the corners of your eyes burned up and you spat out, "don't fucking talk to me."

and you left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

zoro stared at the place you were standing at and then slowly dragged his eyes at the door that you had slammed shut.

fuck.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆🪐⋆⭒˚｡⋆

well into the night, when he finally had swallowed his pride and mentally beat himself enough, he walked out of his room.

his steps were slow, stride careful so to not panic the mostly sleeping crew. searching through the washroom and the kitchen, the supply closet and chopper's tiny, stashed-away office, he failed to find you. then, he stepped out onto the deck and in a clean sweep, found you at the port side. the wind blew ideally though your hair and you stood with your arms on the railing.

the swordsman silently walked up to you, choosing to stand beside you without saying much. and if he had hoped for you to start the conversation, he was in for a long, long night.

"hey" he finally started off.

"i think i told you to not talk to me."

your feet shifted and you balanced your bodyweight away from him and he pursed his lips. standing in silence, the sounds of waves crashing against the ship painted you both in a uncomfortable hues.

he tried again, "i- i am sorry, really."

"don't care, didn't ask."

roronoa zoro bit the inside of his cheek, savoring the taste of foul rejection in his mouth over and over. but he had never been the one to go out without a fight. hell, he was the king of hell.

"but i am sorry." he repeated and his calloused fingers inched closer to yours, a poor attempt to ghost his skimming touches over your hand. but you were quicker and you pulled your hands back to yourself and wrapped them around yourself.

he slowly withdrew his hand and his head hung low, "how long are you gonna be mad at me?"

"i don't know? probably till i want to."

"babe—"

"—don't babe me."

"i am sorry—"

"—to fuCKING HELL WITH YOUR SORRY!" your cool demeanor washed off and you bore daggers into his paper-like skin as you stared him down. your breath was laboured and you were sure your yells must have woken someone, if not the entire crew.

he stayed silent, ready to face the consequences of his actions. and although venom was a resident on your tongue, looking at his guilt-struck face, you were reduced to nothing but a dumbfounded, little girl.

whatever you had planned, whatever you had thought you'd call him, whatever accusations you had thrown you'd throw at him dissolved at the tip of your tongue. and instead, an ugly feeling stirred under your skin. the feeling sunk heavy in your chest and your stomach and your head and heart and every other crevice of you. bile crawled up your scratchy throat and the same waterworks made home on your lash line.

when you spoke, you were sure your voice sounded more like a desperate plea than a demand for apology.

"why? why did you say that? that was low."

he looked down at his feet, his fingers twiddling against the sword hilt of his wado ichimonji in an attempt to self-soothe, "i know it was wrong. i was just so angry."

"and that makes it okay for you to question my loyalty?" you sniffed, feeling the watery weight cascade down your cheeks.

"no!" he looked up, alarmed, "no! ofcourse it doesn't. i never was— i was just—" he paused, wincing, "—i was jealous of him."

"sanji?!"

he continued, agonized, "yes, the damn cook. and everyone else, i guess. you seemed to have time for everyone but me."

"zoro, why didn't you just say it out loud to me?" you whispered softly. inching closer to him, you rested your palm against his warm cheek. his growing stubble lightly tickled your skin. you hummed softly when he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, pressing an easy kiss to your fingers. "because i- i just couldn't bring myself to. i'm sorry, i should have talked to you rather than being a prick, really."

"i am sorry too. i know we haven't spent any time for the past two weeks or so. i was so busy within myself that i didn't reach out to you." your fingers played gently against the scars on his face from years of training, "these past few days have been hard—"

"—they've been hell."

you laughed despite yourself, "yeah, i guess they've been hell."

his eyes swayed against yours in a guilt-ridden dance, "forgive me?"

you paused a beat, "do you trust me?"

his answer came more easily than breathing did, "more than i trust myself."

you hummed, "sure?"

and he just nodded. as moments passed you both by, he finally quipped up, "so, am i forgiven?"

"well..." you pondered for a second, "technically, i did fuck up too. so, yeah, you're forgiven." you glared at him, "just never say that kinda shit again."

he smiled and when he spoke, he offered a kind explaination, "i didn't actually mean you were fucking the cook. i just- just kinda said it."

"eh," you waved off his comment, "i don't wanna fuck blondes, anyways. to be honest, not really my type."

"huh?!" his eyes widened in play-pretend, "so his hair colour is holding you back?"

"i mean i'm more into idiots who grow slowly on me. like moss does on a wet towel."

roronoa zoro— bounty hunter, pirate, first mate to a terrifying crew, kind of hell, demon, whatever— looked appalled. "are you comparing me to moss?"

"i am comparing how you grew on me to the lowest form of moss that even grows on the stupidest surfaces."

"don't call yourself stupid, now."

you huffed and turned around, walking towards the stairways that led to the rooms, "i am gonna stop talking to you again!"

he laughed, taking in easy strides to walk after you, "just kidding. i promise. your moss, ever and forever more."

he met your pace, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you gave him a wayward grin, "good."

he gave you one right back, "great."

"i'm tired."

"me too."

as you both disappeared back into your room, hand in hand, you made a comment about how much his hair grew and he responded with "like moss grows on a wet towel?". next morning you found yourself waking up to the swordsman's heavy snores and heavier body against you.

stupid moss-head.

a/n: i think i like how this turned out lol. hope it's okay @rkiveinmarvel and as always, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3

[saiikavon]

(Laptop is in time out until it manages to charge. Which it will hopefully do if I leave it alone for a bit. Have a short I wrote on my phone to relieve the writing itch in the meantime.)

The basement labs of Kaiba Corp. are empty and silent, save for the single set of footsteps echoing down the stairs. Lights flare to life and welcome Seto as he descends, alone, passing each cavernous room until he reaches his destination.

Inside, still as statues, are three familiar figures. One of Yugi, of himself, and Jounouchi.

They’re robots, for lack of a more sophisticated term, glorified animatronics with advanced movement and speech capabilities. They’re also, thanks to the continued development of SolidVision and Kaiba Corp’s holographic technology, rather useless. An old project that will likely never see completion. Yet, for whatever reason, Seto cannot bring himself to get rid of them.

He circles each one, quietly going about his usual check-ins and tests. Assure the joints are moving properly, the voice boxes are still in order, that sort of thing. Just in case he ever happens to need them at a moment’s notice, as unlikely as that is.

After assuring that both the Yugi-robot and his own double are in working order, Seto finally stops in front of the figure of Jounouchi. For several seconds, he does nothing.

He still doesn’t know what possessed him to craft this one, in particular. Jounouchi is hardly someone worth remembering in the dueling scene, always stopping short of doing anything terribly important. He hadn’t managed to take any place of importance in either of Seto’s tournaments, and his second-place win in Duelist Kingdom is now a distant memory.

Yet…the set felt incomplete without him.

Seto checks on this one more slowly, running his eyes over the broad shape of the shoulders, running his hands over the arms. Voice commands tell it to move - raise your hand, take a step forward, turn your head, blink. The glass eyes seem to flicker under the light.

They meet Seto’s gaze, almost knowingly, and a quiet fire stirs in his belly.

“Smile for me,” he tells the robot. The lips curve upward on command. Seto reaches out with one hand almost without thinking and cups the robot’s cheek. It does not move, for he has not commanded it, but he imagines muscle twitching under his hand, Jounouchi stepping back in surprise, What do you think you’re doing?!

Seto’s thumb caresses the soft synthetic skin of the lips, imagining the slight wetness as they part, the warmth of a breath washing over his hand.

It’s an indulgence, he’s decided. He’s made Jounouchi here because it is the only way to possess him.

“Voice test, step one. State your name.”

“Jounouchi Katsuya,” he says, movement unhindered by Seto’s continued touch.

“Step two. State your creator’s name.”

“Kaiba Seto,” he says, and Seto imagines those eyes flickering again, molten amber pouring into his soul.

Seto hesitates on the next step. There’s little point to this, he thinks, no reason to keep going on protocol. Not when his mouth is dry and his heart is being squeezed in a strong, mechanical grip.

The words come out before he can stop them: “Tell me what you want, Katsuya.”

He hears the click of the robot’s processor as it calculates the words. He imagines a furrowed brow, a confused frown upon that puppy-face, What do you mean?

The robot says, “Command not recognized. Please clarify.”

And Seto swallows around his dry throat, moves to stand toe-to-toe with the machine and takes its face in both hands. Imagines Jounouchi’s breath catching as he leans in close.

“Tell me you want me, Katsuya.”

He doesn’t really hear it when the robot says the words, flat and unaffected, where he’d imagined the real Jounouchi breathless, trembling, melting into his touch. But the only one fit to melt here is him. The machine he built feels nothing at all.

It takes him a moment to collect himself and step away from the robot. He combs the hair into place with his fingers while the glass eyes watch on blankly.

“Test concluded,” Seto says at last. “Enter sleep mode.”

With another click, the machine returns to position and closes its eyes. Seto observes it placidly, then turns to leave the way he’d come. Footsteps echoing down the empty hall and back up the stairs, alone.

The lights shut down, and the labs are utterly silent once again.

[alders-simblr]

36 Alder Lane (Willow Creek - 001) Lite

First house in my project for my save. I'm doing two versions, the lite version and the loaded version. More on that later. This is the lite version and you can find it on the gallery under my username alderwitch - make sure you have Custom Content checked.

Lite version will have everything needed to start playing but I haven't gone in and cluttered and tweaked the build to make it looked lived in. Loaded versions are going to have a much longer list of custom content, lots more clutter and less empty spaces available to make it your own and a higher price point typically in Simoleans to purchase.

This is a house designed with the idea of a big family in mind. It has a large chef's kitchen, laundry room and both formal living room and cozy den along with a half bath. Upstairs are three rooms for the kids, along with a dedicated bath while the master suite and office take up the third floor. Though the yard is small, it boasts outdoor grill space, a pool and a small grass area perfect for young kids.

I'm personally using it as one of the lots to fast track my founder families that I'm building my save with.

-> Built with bb.moveobjects and TOOL.

Packs Used: Growing Together, HSY, Eco Lifestyle, Seasons, Parenthood, Dineout, Spa Day, Bust the Dust, Laundry Day

CC Used: Madame Ria: Back To Basics, Unremarkable Stairs LeafMotif: Painted Mailboxes, Eloise Syboulette: Aquarium, Laundry, Millennial Kitchen, Playa Amoebae: Eco Lifestyle Woods in Image Spectra Walls that Make Sense: Dynasty, Fundamentals, Lights, Opulence Pierisim: Oak House pt 4, MCM 5, MCM 3, MCM 2, Auntie Vera, Teenie Weenie Charly Pancakes: Maple S, SMOL Tuds: Shkr, Beam, Crib, Cross, Vime Sixam: Dreamy Outdoor, Living Room for Family Harrie: Octave 2, Octave 4, Kwatei 1, Coastal Collection 1, Coastal Collection 2 Harlix: Orjanic, Harluxe, Jardane, Felixandre: Chateau Pt 1, Shop the Look Pt 1, Shop the Look Pt 2 Ravasheen: Utility Set, Counter Wastebin, Paper Towel, Curfew Clock, Recipe Unlock Book, Cupcake Maker, Sip Sip Bar Cart, Toy Kitchen, Toy Tub, Built Ins Peacemaker: Hickory Floorboards, Small & Rustic Wooden Planks, Classic Walls (all), Classic Add Ons, Retro Wallpaper, Colour Me Rugs, Moroccan Tiles, Cats and Dogs Siding, Hampton's Hideaway, Hampton's Built Ins, Oasis Chic, Nox Dining, Caine Living, Vara Office, Elsie Bedroom, Bradford Seating, Hudson Bathroom Mod: It includes the functional medicine cabinet for SimRealist's Private Practice Mod in the half bath. If you aren't using that mod, feel free to ignore downloading it and replace it with whatever non functional one that you like.

[callmebliss-got-swamped]

“Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people.”

Context under cut. Content warning for gore

In my dream last night I was somehow managing to buy a house. Massive, rambling, old, lots of antique furniture in and flourishing plants still there. Was taking a tour with my ex, god knows why, who was excited about things in the place for me but his presence drove me to explore faster than I wanted so as to not be in the same room.

Gorgeous…greenhouse? Conservatory? Lofty glass-ceilings room with potted plants all around and quite a few in pots suspended by chains from the ceiling. Warm and bright, all my plants would love it.

A beautiful study with a fireplace taking up a whole wall, dark wood built-ins with glass-front cabinets. One of those clocks with the perpetually spinning orbs under a glass dome.

In one room there was a bench sized and shaped structure, turned akimbo mostly toward the wall. The seat area was round wooden rails, with actual wooden seat platform on it large enough for one person at one end. My ex declared it to be a shoeshine bench; there were foot supports in front of the seat for such an activity so I had to presume he was right. Couldn’t test whether the seat could still slide along the rails, though, because there were four 80s-90s era mini electric keyboards on the rails. Collecting dust in a house where everything else was clean.

I moved on without finding the kitchen, climbing the stairs. The upper floors were a little more dim, and had a stranger layout, with half-flights of stairs. Went up one to find a room with the doorway filled with two panes of glass on hinges; the one on the stairs side I had to press and release to have it spring out and swing toward me. The one on the other side did the same in the other direction. It led to a playroom with toys mostly put away but others still scattered on the far side of the room. The glass door was, apparently, so a parent could glance up the stairs and see the kids still safe and playing in there.

I left through a door to one side; coming up the half stairs, the ceiling had slanted sideways over me, indicating another set of stairs above running perpendicular.

This was when I ran into the small man. Somehow it did not bother me he was there. He reminded me of The Old Man Of Hoy from Sense8, but much more compact, only three feet tall at most.

At one point I discovered an oak and wrought iron built in foldout stair made to let me climb to open some sort of door. I pulled it out using the round safe-door type handle, climbed up, but the door was locked.

“Don’t have the key.” The old man said. “There’s another way to the fifth floor.” He sounded unsure of himself but I followed his swift pace around to the bottom of a staircase that climbed through a space that got smaller as we went up, to a door that was 1/3 height and also locked. But I had a piece of flat metal and a Bobby pin I could bend, and a rudimentary experience of basic lock picking, and I got it open.

The old man and I were hip to hip as we shoved our top halves through the doorway. The other side was dark, so I pulled out my phone and set it to flashlight. To the right, the ceiling slanted down in two sections; eaves, flat wood surfaces painted a violet-tinged grey with white accents. On one end the floor opened up to a sharply dropping ramp that disappeared into shadow. At the time it struck me as a bad slide for a person to go down, but now I think it was a slide to move boxes from eaves storage to rooms below without having to carry them downstairs/through rooms. Like a dumbwaiter with the simplest of physical mechanics.

We turned our heads and my light to the left, and the ceilings rose to full height, picking out open doorways to very still rooms, objects and doorknobs thick with dust and some furniture draped with cloths. The old man crowed with delight. “You found it - The Cousins’ House! The house within a house!” We scrambled through and to our feet, and somehow I know this section was just that - a whole ‘nother house, attached and separated, from days long past when folks might come visiting for months at a time.

We explored here slowly, for this house was dark as midnight and even more maze like than the main house. I rounded a square pillar with piles of abandoned items around its base all dusted and cobwebby, and there was a hint of movement at the edge of the light. I moved closer - it was a doll, perhaps the size of a standing American Girl Doll, no taller than my knees as it stood there. It’s head moved, turning away, and a little-girl voice said something I do not now recall. My friends standing behind me (I do not know who, but they were there) were terrified, so I said, “oh look, a baaaaayby! Get the baby!” in a playful singsong voice. I stopped toward it to scoop up the doll, to show my friend it was perhaps a really good windup doll.

That is when the doll ran. That little girl voice was repeating,” don’t catch the baby!” While I chased it through the maze of rooms and halls, barely keeping it in my shaker flashlight, calling out, “catch the baaaayby!” My friends were yelling to stop, no, don’t try to catch it. Wet came back round to where they stood and I snatched the doll up, swaddling it in the blanket that was wrapped around it and cradling it in my arms to show my friends. It’s face was turned away.

“Who’s a baby?” I asked jovially, stroking the fringe of its bangs. My friends were relaxing now. The doll’s head swiveled to face me—

ABRUPTLY I was no longer in that place, that situation, those people. I was staring from very close up into the face of 90s era pixie-cut Winona Ryder. Her pale skin was glistening with moisture, her teeth perfectly white as she hissed, “Corporations are the soulless brains of ratless people.” She took a deep breath, ragged, as if talking was an effort, and said it again. “Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people. Corporations are the soulless brains of ratless people. Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people. ” Over and over again she repeated it and slowly my view drew back like a camera pulling away she was still gasping and hissing it as I saw that she had no arms, rough-edges of flesh around wet pits where they had been pulled off. She wore nothing, she was in a bath, deep cuts down her body that was dappled with moisture - from sweat, from steam. There were long streaky tunnels of blood down her skin. Finally she could speak no longer, her head lolling in a deathless silent scream, the inside of her mouth blackened. Her legs were torn away the same way as her arms. The bath water was milky. When I was far enough away I could see a thick ruddy cephalopodean tentacle rising from the bath, lashing toward me.

I awoke. Full of What The Fuck?

[bother-blame]

Finally put together a bunch of screenshots of some of the houses I've built in ts4. These are all based on real floorplans, with some alterations to fit the game engine (L shaped stairs didn't exist when I built these & the scale is a bit off)

These were all built between 2018 and 2019, and tend to have the same color palette & furniture.

90% of the windows/paint/flooring/furniture/decor i used in these builds were made by peacemaker here on tumblr.

screenshots are under the cut (this is a VERY LONG post)

HOUSE #1 -- 2 bed / 1 bath

I built this when i was playing a NSB challenge for fun. This was for the first generation, but I took out most of the mint/green colors at some point before I saved it. this was before L shaped stairs, so I ended up using the normal stairs and adding a tiny laundry room where the L stair would've been.

also, i hate how the sims 4 handles lofts. i always have to add a little fence sims can walk over, bc it refuses to recognize it otherwise.

HOUSE #2 -- 4 bed / 3 full baths + 2 half baths

a lot of beach houses on the east coast of the US are built like this, apparently? google says it's to protect against flooding. this floorplan had been built in real life when i started trying to recreate it, so i was able to reference a photo of the kitchen/living area when decorating my own version. i think i used the real build's exterior paint color as well. you can also see that when i don't know how to decorate i tend to revert to using soft teals or neutrals. also, you can see i forgot to put the washing machine & dryer in the laundry room.

HOUSE #3 -- 3 bed / 2 full baths + 1 half bath

This was meant to hopefully fit in with the other houses in one of willow creek's neighborhoods (the one the goths live in). the plan actually called for built ins. the plan also showed placements for ceiling fans, which is why they're on the porches & in the living room/main bedroom. Once again, soft teals & neutrals.

HOUSE #4 -- 5 bed / 7 full baths & 2 half baths

this is probably the largest house i've ever tried to recreate. i've shown exterior screenshots of it before. the original plan called for L stairs, but this was built before those were a thing, so I had to mess with it a bit. The plan did also call for the sunken living room, but ts4 does not like that at all, so the lighting in that space is a bit wonky. the plan indicated that there was a basement (or a possibility for a basement), so I made a hallway & threw some stuff down there.

i went a bit out of my comfort zone for two of the bedrooms, but you can see it's still mostly neutrals sdjfkhsdf

also here's some bonus in progress screenshots i found:

i think at this point it was just a giant shell with the rooms divided off; you can see the rooms on the right side of the overhead view don't exist yet, because they didn't exist in the original floorplan. they were supposed to be an extra high ceiling, but that's not possible in the engine, so they became more rooms.