#built-in firewood storage

[killthemwithyourawesome]

Family Room Game Room in Burlington

Game room - large rustic open concept dark wood floor game room idea with brown walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a tv stand

[kyomi-shi]

Living Room Burlington A large, open-concept living room with a dark wood floor and brown walls also features a stone fireplace, a regular fireplace, and a television stand.

[harpe-et-nitroglycerine]

Living Room - Modern Living Room Living room - mid-sized modern loft-style light wood floor and gray floor living room idea with white walls, a corner fireplace, a plaster fireplace and a tv stand

[napleonsolo]

Scandinavian Living Room Minneapolis Living room - mid-sized scandinavian open concept light wood floor and beige floor living room idea with beige walls, a wood stove, a metal fireplace and a media wall

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Oh, I love her! Too cute, tiny 1930 hacienda in Spokane, WA has 1bd, 1ba, 486 sq ft, $270K. I would move right in, if WA wasn't clear across the country from me.

Surrounded by a wall and fence, it's like your own private little fortress.

Isn't this sweet? A little sitting area in front of the wood stove. They have a table for 4 made out of an antique sewing machine base, for dining, in front of the kitchen, and there's room for 2 larger chairs on the side.

Look at the details, like the little niche in the wall.

Cute little kitchen and I like the stairs going up to the sleep loft. I would probably reconfigure the kitchen- at least get an island with a counter and some storage.

The kitchen could use a nice Mexican tile backsplash and a small exhaust hood over the stove.

Under the sleep loft there's a bath and some shelving.

Is that a washer/dryer?

Very nice shower.

View of the sleep loft.

I don't think that I would use the loft- Where the armoire is, I think that I would put a Murphy bed and move the love seat over.

Then, I would remove that built-in bench and put an armoire next to the window, b/c there are no closets. Maybe, I would even remove the shelving and make a closet there, too. I would reconfigure it all.

A nice outbuilding. Was this a chicken coop?

Inside it's a great storage shed.

The yard is pretty.

So, when I saw all of this firewood, I went back to see if the wood stove is the only heating source, but it's not. There's a gas furnace.

Look at the nice covered patio.

There is quite a large front yard that has potential.

The corner lot measures 6,098 sq ft.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/4128-N-Monroe-St-Spokane-WA-99205/89446486_zpid/

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Pairing: Geralt × reader

Title: Solace

Summary: Geralt shows up at your cabin after a long time. (Fluff)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been so busy this week that I haven't had the time to do anything. An outbreak of a cold hit the town's children and I was going up and down treating them since I was a herbalist, a trade learned from my mother. I didn't live in town but in a cabin outside of town. It sat in an open field surrounded by trees. I was in the small barn that housed my only horse. I also used it as a storage room for tools and firewood. I was checking how much wood I had left and it was not much. The remaining bundle would last me about two days. I haven't had a chance to gather wood and I used a lot to prepare medicine for the town's people.

I exited the barn and approached Nisy, my horse. I normally let her roam around during the day knowing she won't go too far. Even if she left she always came back before sundown. I brushed her golden brown coat as I spoke.

"We're almost out of firewood. Only about two days' worth left. This cold has taken up a lot of my resources. I'll have to go gather more soon, and some herbs too."

Nisy whined as if she understood me. I spoke to her often. She was the only companion I had out here unless I had a visitor. As I was focused on Nisy I felt a tingling sensation run down the middle of my back. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and goosebumps appeared on my forearms. There was only one person who could bring out this kind of reaction from my body. It's how I could tell he was close. My hand stopped mid brush and my heart skipped a beat.

I slowly turned around and my eyes landed on a tall figure clad in black standing on the edge of the forest in front of my cabin. The first thing that confirmed that it was him was his white shoulder-length hair. He stood next to his horse, Roach. His hand held the reins of the horse.

I was frozen where I stood, unbelieving of what I was seeing. It had been almost 5 years since I last saw him. He left when I was still asleep last time, to avoid saying goodbye.

He tugged on Roach's reins and started walking towards me. He stopped a few inches in front of me. His height towered over mine. My head barely reached the top of his shoulder. His amber eyes did not leave my face. I could see remorse, regret and adoration in them.

I was at a loss for words. I was overcome by emotions: disbelief, anger, and hurt, but the dominant feeling was the fact that I missed him. A single tear ran down my cheek and I walked into him. His arms immediately incased my trembling body as I silently sobbed into his chest. My hands grasped the sides of his shirt. His chin sat atop my head.

"I missed you too," his deep raspy voice said.

We stood in our embrace for a long time. When I finally had my wits about I pulled back and looked into his eyes. I cupped his cheek and then brushed my fingers through his dirty hair.

"You smell so bad," I sniffed.

His lips lifted into a small smile and he chuckled. "I know," he said.

After admiring his face and convincing myself that I wasn't dreaming I grabbed his hand and led him into the cabin. He sat down on one of the dining chairs as I made him a meal. I put a lot of effort into it, knowing he didn't have home-cooked meals often. As he ate, I prepared a bath for him. I filled the large tub to the brim with water and poured bath salts into it.

After he finished eating I led him into my bedroom and the conjoined bathing room. My bathing room had two doors, one led into my bedroom and another into the passageway that joined most of my cabin. I waited as he stripped naked in front of me. I gulped as my eyes drank of his amazing physique. Geralt was built like a god. He stepped into the bathtub and sat down. He groaned as the warm water engulfed his body. I picked up his clothes and placed them in a washing basket by the door. I was about to leave when he said, "Stay."

I grabbed a stool and sat by the bathtub. I grabbed a sponge and started washing his neck and back. I could feel him melt into my touch. I then gave him the sponge so he could wash the rest of his body as worked on washing and detangling his hair. Once he was clean and the water started to look like swamp water Geralt stepped out of the bathtub. I handed him a towel to dry himself and I drained and washed the tub.

He followed me back into the bedroom, and I gave him a set of clean, fresh clothes. For some unknown reason, I always kept clothes for him. I guess deep down I always hoped he would come back every time he left, which he did, no matter how long he would be gone.

He looked strange in the home clothes. They were not like the leather amour he usually wore.

"These are quite comfortable," he said observing the clothes.

"I made them myself," I said.

"Thank you," his amber eyes landed on my face.

"You were gone so long this time," my voice cracked as I spoke. He would be gone for 2, maybe 3 years at a time. But now he had been gone for almost five years.

Geralt sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. A lot has been happening lately," he apologized.

I found myself lying next to him on the bed. My head lay on his chest, and his arm wrapped around my back as he drew patterns on my side. He told me the story of how he saved a knight and now had a baby on the way thanks to the "Law of Surprise." He told me about Jaskier, the bard. I'd heard stories in town of a bard who travelled with a witcher but never took them seriously. I was not one for gossip after all.

"Jaskier sounds like fun," I said looking into his amber eyes with a cheeky grin.

Geralt rolled his eyes at my words, "I'm sure you two would get along quite well," he said.

Geralt was not the type to let people in, so this bard must have been quite special if he let him tag along.

When I first met Geralt, he was in town looking for a place to stay, but no one was willing to take him in because they feared or rather, hated him. I had just lost my mother to an unknown illness when I saw him outside a bar with his horse. I was low on many things, including money.

"A storm is coming. You should find shelter," I said to him.

"No inn will provide lodging to a witcher," his raspy voice answered me.

"How much are you willing to pay?" I asked him.

He raised an eyebrow at me. He probably thought I was joking. A young girl like myself, talking to a witcher.

When he realized that I was serious he brought out a bag of coins. I nervously took it from his hand and looked inside. The money was enough to hold me off for a month considering I lived alone now.

"Follow me," I said to him.

He silently followed behind me as I walked to the blacksmith in town. He stood outside as I entered the shop.

"I've come for my horse," I said to the man.

"You just sold her to me. You don't have any money remember?" He sneered.

"I do now," I held up the bag of coins.

"16 pieces of silver," he said.

"What? That's twice the amount I sold her to you for," I said appalled.

"She's mine now and I can sell her for however much I want. I'm sure someone is willing to pay that much for her," he shrugged.

"You know I just buried my mother," I pleaded with him.

"And I'm sorry for your loss. But business is business," he shrugged.

I pressed my lips at the smug look on his face. But soon the smile was replaced by terror as he looked behind me.

"Witcher," he said causing me to turn around. "What are you doing here?" He looked ready to piss his pants.

"I kill monsters," Geralt said. "And I'm pretty sure men who take advantage of innocent women in need are considered monsters." He gave the blacksmith an unimpressed look.

The man gulped.

"8 pieces of silver," he suddenly said.

I was about to agree when Geralt spoke up again, "The girl just lost her mother."

"6 pieces of silver," the smith looked at me nervously.

I smiled at him, "deal."

He hurried to the back to get my horse and I counted out the money for him. He came back with the horse trotting behind him and handed me the reins. I gave him the money and then exited the shop, Geralt behind me.

"Thank you," I said to Geralt.

"Hmm," he hummed and nodded slightly at me.

We got on our horses and rode out to my cabin. At that time I was looking for a means to survive while Geralt was just looking for a place to lay his head. Neither of us had any idea that we would find solace in each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[god-o-bees]

Bloodsucker

Vampire Nikto

Happy Halloween!!!

Nikto x Reader

Gender neutral, Reader's bits are not specified.

Warning for NonCon.

Two weeks in a safe house in rural Siberia didn't seem so bad on paper. You had all the supplies you could need, a nice remote location away from any danger, and a lovely view of a small lake to wake up to every morning.

The cabin was cozy, clearly built for only one guest at a time. It was heated with wood burning furnace, which you kept fueled with firewood someone had helpfully collected beforehand. There was canned food and medical supplies in the cabinets, and even some old fishing gear in storage, next to all the assault rifles and packs of ammunition. The radio dish only needed occasional cleaning to keep working, and you only received signal every now and then. You didn't mind the silence, though. In fact, this short trip might even be a peaceful break from your routine back at base.

Within the first few days you could tell something was wrong. You woke up cold, no matter how many blankets you added to your bed and no matter how many logs you added to the furnace. You started to feel dizzy too, often having to pause what you were doing to sit down and have a few cups of water. You probably didn't look so healthy either, but there weren't any mirrors in the cabin, so you had no idea.

You began to have strange dreams- cold hands on your thighs, on your waist, up to your neck- whispers in your ears and nails digging into your flesh.

"Beautiful... all alone..."

You toss and turn in your sleep as the sensations start to feel too real.

"We are so hungry... and you have so much to give."

A sharp painful sting plunges into your neck, and you wake up the next morning sore and tired.

That day, you look for some painkillers in the cabinet to no avail.

The next nights aren't much better.

"Sweet thing... just a bit more..." The voice is louder this time, and you can detect a Russian accent in his words.

This time the other side of your neck is punctured- bitten, he's biting you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he sinks his teeth deeper. The ache turns from ice cold to red hot, and you groan and protest as your body gets weaker and weaker.

"Don't struggle..."

A hand travels down your chest, past your stomach, to your inner thigh-

You wake up in a cold sweat. It seems that you aren't just sick, you're also pent up.

That evening, after completing all your daily tasks, eating your favorite canned soup from the small collection in the kitchen, adding a few more logs to the fire and getting into bed, you decide to ease some of the tension from last night.

The only light in the room is from the oil lamp on the bedside table, bathing the space in a soft orange glow- it's soothing, you think.

When's the last time you even did this? Too long, apparently, because your hands are clumsy and awkward as they feel up your body.

You're supposed to imagine someone else, right? You didn't seem to have any trouble with it last night- the deep, gravelly voice of an you're sure you've never met saying strange things, touching you with cold hands, and leaving in a flash.

You close your eyes, letting instinct control your motions. Slow rubbing, massaging, and stroking, up and down, like waves crashing on a beach. It's not as good as you had hoped, but it's something.

"Fuck..."

A thumping sound jolts you from your short lived moment of pleasure.

It's not the noise a fox or squirrel would make. It was a loud bang against the front wall of the cabin- a small bear, maybe?

You quickly retrieve your pants and a tank top and grab a loaded rifle from the storage unit before readying yourself to open the door.

The instant you do, and rush of cold air momentarily distracts you- just enough time for a pair of strong arms to reach from behind and grapple you, squeezing the air from your lungs. The gun falls to the floor with a clatter as the door swiftly shuts closed.

"Our little soldier... you have no idea how much you tease us..." He growls under his breath.

The voice. The voice from your dreams. He was real.

He loosens his grip on your ribcage slightly, letting you breathe again.

"Now, let us finish what you started."

With inhuman ease, he carries you to the bed and pins you down. You finally get to see the man haunting your dreams, the man who's been watching you for who knows how long.

His face is scarred and disfigured, cuts and chemical burns painting his skin. His black hair is patchy is some places- more scar tissue, you notice- and is cut short everywhere else. His eyes are beautiful, a cold crystal blue that freezes you in place.

He wears a large black coat, making him look bigger than he actually is- and he's still very big.

He unbuttons it, letting it fall to the ground. His muscles stretch the fabric of his white dress shirt. He looks like he just came back from a dinner party.

"You must be so confused. You are wondering who we are, why we have been watching you, yes?" He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he speaks in an ineffective attempt to soothe you, especially considering the permanent scowl carved into his face.

"You were our dinner for the last few nights. You have the most delicious blood, you know that? It's addictive." He lifts your wrist up to his mouth and kisses it.

You struggle against him, but he keeps you pinned to the mattress like an insect, small and pitiful compared to him.

"You look so beautiful while you slept... I had to know if you were delicious in other places as well."

His tongue pokes out from between two long canines to lick over your veins. The teeth from your nightmares.

"What- what are you?" Your voice is shakier than you expected, betraying how utterly terrified you are.

"Your lover," He responds simply, and bites down onto your wrist.

You cry out in pain as he laps up the blood, his lips slowly stained with red as he devours his meal.

You try to fight back, but his strength combined with the fatigue of the last few nights had you collapsing back onto the bed.

After seemingly having his fill, he lets go of your wrist and begins to slip off his own pants.

"You are going to love this, малыш... you will be mine, I will take care of you- you will be my little pet, never leaving my side." He yanks your pants down next, groping at your tender flesh with greedy hands.

He bends down to leave hickeys up and down your neck as his fingers work to gather up a mixture of blood and spit to lube your hole, but it's not very effective. Despite that, he still spreads your legs and positions himself between them, giving you a glimpse of his cock.

God, what a sight it is. It's got plenty of length to it, but what's more impressive is it's girth. Could you even fit that? It's not as if he's giving you much of a choice. He's already wetting his head with precum and nudging it against your tight opening.

You groan as it stretches you, bullying it's way into your gut. The pain has you seeing stars and desperately clawing at his skin.

"Relax- relax, you can take me." He moves his lips from your neck to your chest, nipping at your skin with a fierce hunger.

A short whine escapes you when he bottoms out, sinking himself inside you like he was made to be there.

"Ah- there, look. You fit me so nicely." He whispers into your ear. "I will try to be gentle for you. You're such a sweet thing, after all." You can only moan softly in response.

He grunts when he starts to pull out, his pulsating length rubbing against every inch of your walls, before thrusting back in.

"Nng- fuck, ah-!" You can't form other words, too lost in how bad it hurts and how good it's starting to feel.

It's sickening how lovingly he cradles you, whispering praise and promises in your ear. He said he'd be gentle, and you can tell he's barely holding back. Every thrust is just a bit too calculated, every movement is restrained to make sure you don't break.

Your hands find the collar of his shirt and tug him down to meet you.

"Please- more- I can take it, please-" You gasp into his chest. His grip on you gets tighter, like he's seconds away from giving in.

"You think you can handle it? You are so fragiIe compared to me, I don't want you breaking." He growls. You nod vigorously, the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of him inside you, reaching places no one else has been to, making you feel things you've never felt before.

He pounds into you hard, like he was built to slam you onto his cock, like he needed it to live. You, on the other hand, almost regret asking for more. Your body just wasn't made to take something so thick, and you weren't given enough time to adjust. It's so mind-numbingly good, though, so euphoric, you don't even mind the ache.

You don't even realize you're crying until he starts licking up your tears, back to cooing and comforting you as he picks up the pace. You can feel the tense coil of pleasure in your core tighten, and evidently he feels it too.

"So good- release onto me, it's alright. My sweet little thing, so happy on my cock-" He groans into your ear, and suddenly his hands have started stroking right there, and he's pounding into your sweet spot, harder, harder-

You whimper pitifully as you orgasm, and your whole body is shaking in his grasp. He's still going, desperately thrusting into you, all speech lost to the animalistic frenzy of the moment. His teeth penetrate your skin one more time, and as you feel his hips stutter and a warmth shoot deep inside your body, you also feel a tingling from the fresher wound. Before you can even think, your vision goes black and you lose consciousness.

○~○♡○~○♡○~○♡○~○

His little soldier had cum so hard they passed out. It was adorable, everything about them was, really. Nikto felt like the luckiest man alive- well, undead. As he bundled you up in his coat, ready to whisk you back to his manor, he couldn't help but stare at your peaceful face. He couldn't wait to bring you home... his little pet indeed.

Hey! This was my first time writing an actual sex scene. Hope it was good!

Masterlist

[cleolinda]

I grew up in a haunted house and I didn’t notice

This is not a story about boo ghosts or shadow people. If it were, I would have figured it out, at least.

When I say "I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice," you have to understand that there was a lot going on with this house. It's not the house that I've written about currently living in, the one with newspaper and soda cans stuffed where insulation should have been, the one with constant home-repair calamities. No, my childhood home was a crumbling pile of red brick built in the 1920s. Narnia was in the backyard, and the back deck was my ship on the high seas. The house was surrounded by banks of flowers, lilies and irises and roses, and it was full of creepy shit I didn’t even blink at. I loved it.

It didn't look haunted, or even particularly historical. It was almost disappointingly normal—I lived on a street with a house that had a turret, for God's sake. No, it was just old and small. There's a lot of pre-Depression houses getting torn down in these suburbs; my town has been awash in construction for the last 20-30 years as people buy up cheap old houses, raze them, and squeeze mini-mansions onto their tiny lots, all to get their kids into a good school system. It gives me a chill to think of it, but yeah, that might happen to my childhood home someday, small and plain and unassuming as it is. My pirate ship has already been renovated into an extra bedroom, the new owners told us.

When we moved into the house in 1983, though—it had clearly been renovated in the '60s or '70s; the wallpaper was hideous, and the upstairs bathroom was carpeted. Shag-carpeted. The house had closets the size of shoeboxes; my bedroom, the one with the peach wallpaper, didn't even have one. The room down the hall had four, including one cut into the wall, under a slanted ceiling tucked beneath the roof, that looked like you'd stash a witch there when the Salem HOA came by. There was a fan in the attic—well, first of all, the attic was just one more room on that upstairs floor. It was directly across from the (carpeted) bathroom, and that room (lit by one ominous, hanging bulb) was just a short corridor with storage spaces on either side, hidden behind big sliding doors. And the fan at the very end was built into the brick outer wall of the house. Like our house was functionally open to the elements, between the blades of that fan. I have no idea what the fuck anyone was thinking when they built that, and how the fuck anyone kept the wildlife out.

We certainly couldn't. Squirrels lived in the roof and bowled with acorns. It was like listening to a pinball machine at night. I have an abject horror of cockroaches because sometimes an adventurous one would fall off the ceiling in the middle night, onto me, while I was trying to sleep. (Like, try to imagine that—you’re awakened from a dead sleep by a vague, paper-light skittering sensation up and down your arm. When Pennywise comes to me, he will show up as a cockroach.) But wait! There was more! We had herds of crickets in the basement that felt compelled to jump at people. Sometimes there were centipedes! Those were polite enough to only come out at night. In the dark.

By the way, that basement was totally unfinished. I don't mean that it just had exposed beams or concrete walls. I mean that the basement had uneven, mostly shoulder-high masonry walls, and then it was just open on three sides, extending under the rest of the house. Like just dry red Alabama earth and rocks and grainy dust tumbling around in this vast, dark—it wasn't even a crawl space, a child could have stood upright in it. This child? Oh fuck no. And the washer and dryer were down there. I had to creep down there, down a rickety plank staircase, past the staring dark caverns of my own basement, through a low-lying fog of aggressive crickets, go BEHIND THE STAIRCASE, and then do my laundry there. There was also a firewood pile by an old fridge, and only God knew what was under that.

None of this was haunted. All of this was completely normal to me. This isn't even the haunted part.

So let's go back upstairs. The ground floor was lovely, homey, fine except for the time the living room ceiling fell out due to water damage. Upstairs was where it got weird. I've talked about being mildly bullied as an unknowingly autistic child; home was where I felt safe. In my bedroom upstairs, I had all those My Little Ponies and my easel with all my crayon-drawn fantasy maps and all the stories I wrote. It didn't matter if roaches fell on me in the deeps of the night; home, that's where I was happy. So when I was a young kid and I felt like a vampire was following me down the hall at night, I assumed I was just being silly.

I was aware of vampires in the 1980s as, like, the Count on Sesame Street (ah ah aaah), and Count Chocula, and Count Duckula on Nickelodeon, and the Bunnicula books that I loved. As a kid, I wasn't aware of movies like The Lost Boys or Near Dark, or any vampires that weren't broad caricatures of the Bela Lugosi look. I loved Spooky Stuff—I'm from the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark generation—but vampires didn't scare me.

But when I had to get up in the middle of the night to go down the hall to the (carpeted) bathroom, I always had the sensation that something was following me as I was going back to my room. Something Dark. Not terribly tall, maybe not even much taller than me. And somehow, I visualized this deep in my mind as a vampire. Kind of a silly one, you know, the white-tie formal wear and the ribbon medal and the cape. I wasn't desperately scared that a Chocula was behind me, but I knew that I needed to get back to my room quick, and, at all costs, I must never look back. I must never look over my shoulder or else I would See It, something silly massing in the dark—and, brother, Eurydice would have been safe with me. Never stop running, never look back.

And I'm sure all kinds of kids develop little superstitions like this. It's probably a developmental thing, like having an imaginary friend (which I also had at some point). Even as a seven year old, I was thinking, This is silly, I'm just making it up (but not looking back costs nothing. Not looking at monsters is free). And I continued to think this, until I laughingly told my younger sister this at Sunday Family Dinner one night. We were both in our thirties at that point. And my sister started crying. Like just staring at me in wide-eyed horror, her eyes filling with tears. And she told me that when she had a bedroom upstairs, there was Something in there.

I won't belabor the exact setup, but at one point, we got it into our heads that we'd like to switch bedrooms, just for a change. I was 14, and I moved to her ground floor bedroom with the flowered white wallpaper and the big bright windows, and she went upstairs and took my room with the peach wallpaper and the cool slanted roof-ceiling (and no closet).

There were three other rooms on that upper floor (and I promise you this is important):

1) One was a small, windowless room that we used as a playroom, with weird cerulean blue carpet and sky blue wallpaper, one dim light fixture, and a little door in the wall that led to dark nothing. Like, you opened it, and you were confronted by a mass of pipes and machinery and just enough space to edge leftwards in the dark. Towards what? Fuck if I know, I sure as hell wasn't going in there. I think it was supposed to be for access to the HVAC system. I don't know. It was fucked. But when I was a young child, I had cooked for my baby dolls at our plastic play kitchen right next to that door, nbd, because apparently you put me in a creepy situation and I just go, yeah, we live like this now.

(I had not ever felt alone in that playroom, but I had also been too young to articulate that. Of course I wasn’t alone! I was with my dolls!)

2) The next room was the (shag-carpeted) bathroom. It had a big mirror over the sink counter, very typical, facing a vertical mirror that was behind the bathroom door. I've heard two mirrors facing each other can create a portal for the spirits, if you believe in that kind of thing. I once did the "Bloody Mary" thing there and nothing happened, idk.

3) The next room was the bedroom with four closets, where an older family member lived with us, and when she moved out, my sister moved to that room.

?) The fourth room, not really a room, was the dark, narrow attic.

So, Grownup Family Dinner at my current house, a few years ago: my sister told me that Something had lived in the Four Closets Bedroom with her. I'm not sure if she actually said it lived in the little Hide A Witch closet or if it was just kind of... ambient. I don't know what it looked like, or if we're talking about ghosts or Something... Darker, or what. I don't think she's entirely sure herself. She doesn't like to talk about it in detail a whole lot. What I know is that she felt it was there, and she had chosen that room to sleep in as a young teenager, and not a lot of sleep was to be had.

"I never really sensed anything, like… demonic," I said, puzzled. "Just the Chocula that followed me." And my sister was like, ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF??

"What about Rebecca??" she sputtered.

Oh, yeah: Rebecca. (A name I've changed at my sister's request.) I had a friend as a teenager who liked to mess around with ouija boards (AM I LISTENING TO MYSELF?), and we did a session at her house one time wherein we discovered that the ghost of a girl? young woman? named Rebecca lived (so to speak) at my house, and she had been murdered by her boyfriend. How we arrived at these specifics, I don’t remember, but I had told my sister about it because I thought it was interesting, and also, I was kind of a shit. My friend also decided she had her own ghost named Dusty. It was all one big [citation needed, footage not found], but it was also part of our family lore.

So, many years later, my sister told me that she had long felt—without knowing about the Chocula—that there were two spirits on the upper floor of our childhood home: the dark one, and a younger, lighter one. I sat there at the kitchen table and thought about it.

"You know, I did kind of feel like there was someone up there, when I was a kid," I said. "Sometimes I would go into the attic, and it felt scary, but like there was something there watching that was okay? Like having a lamp on in a dark room, kind of. It’s weird, because it’s just a feeling, I remember it very clearly, but I didn’t really question it or wonder."

I thought a bit more.

"Oh yeah—there was also the time I just really felt compelled to go color in the playroom by myself at midnight, and it kind of felt like someone was there."

My sister stared at me, saucer-eyed, pale. Like I'm not sure I had ever seen anyone "go white" until that moment.

"Yeah, I just woke up and had this idea—I was maybe nine years old? That it would be super cool to do stuff at night when I was supposed to be asleep, so I got a flashlight and went into the playroom—"

"IN THE DARK??"

"Well, yeah. If I had turned on the light, someone would have seen it and told me to go back to bed. So I set this flashlight on the floor and got out the crayons and colored in one of my coloring books a while. Maybe the She-Ra one?"

Thinking back on it now—of course I was sitting right by the scary door. I think we all, you and I, saw that coming.

"And I had the same feeling I had in the attic. Like someone was sitting on the floor across from me, friendly, I guess I would say female, and it was cool. Like, it was chill."

My sister looked like she was about to pass out.

"I don’t really know how I could sense this then but not really say anything about it, or even think about it, until now," I said, shrugging. "I’m probably imagining it."

I’ll throw in here that one of the dolls I had in that room was a Raggedy Ann. Like, just for extra hilarity, Wee Cleo is hanging out, coloring, at midnight, with a ghost and a fuckin’ Annabelle.

So: My sister is adamant that our childhood home was haunted. And apparently I was entirely blasé about it (maybe possessed?), but then, I was dealing with a lot of suburban wildlife. My problems with that house were far more immediate. And crawly. Nor can we prove that the house was haunted—I certainly haven’t looked up any homicide records—and I don’t think that Vibes, In Retrospect, are valid evidence on my part. But I find it interesting that I knew what she was talking about. I find it interesting that I was like, "Yeah, that was chill." And I find it interesting that when I went away to college, and I lived in a dorm suite where sometimes I’d be the only person there while my roommates were out,

I remember noticing that it was the first time I’d ever felt alone in a room.

Who was that imaginary friend I'd had?

--

I asked my sister to read over this, partly because I wanted to see if she’d be willing to describe the Something Dark.

"Oh, I’ll tell you anything you want," she texted back, "but that’s not how it happened."

[cognitivejustice]

Sumu Yakushima is co-owned by eight members who live on the site with their families, and also offers holiday accommodation for visitors. Sumu means both “to live” and “to become clear”, and according to its co-owners, the name expresses how they live in the co-op – in a way that positively impacts both its residents and the landscape.

“Yakushima is an island rich in nature, so you can even drink the water from the river. We have a farm and can produce food. Energy can be charged hourly in off-grid systems. And we share and nurture this place with our most important friends.”

The co-op was built among cedar trees, in a manner sympathetic to the surrounding landscape without cutting down large trees or leveling the ground, and runs on 100% off-grid energy from solar, storage batteries and local firewood.

Its creators fused modern technology with traditional Japanese civil engineering practices to develop. a regenerative model of architecture. Key considerations include the site’s underground environment as well as how water and air flows around the landscape.

[pilalaguna]

Life in the Corazon Rivera Ancestral House

From Cora Relova of the Pila Historical Society Foundation and granddaughter of Corazon Rivera:

Lola’s house (Corazon Rivera Ancestral House) is considered ancestral because it is more than 50 years old and still belongs to the fourth generation of the family. It is a heritage house because the architecture belongs to a certain period and it is inside the declared (Philippine National) heritage zone. It is “taga-gitna” (people with houses in the center of the town surrounding the main plaza are elite).

It was built around 1929-1930. Lola Loring said she was 12 years old when they - Lola Azon (Corazon Rivera), Lolo Ato (Renato Del Mundo, son of Corazon Rivera) and Lola Loring (Loreto Del Mundo, daughter of Corazon Rivera) started living there. The old municipal hall (municipio) used to be located in the property. Lola Azon’s property was where the main municipal hall is located now. Lola Loring said that Lola Azon did not want to build the house directly in front of the church because she felt that the sins being confessed will "boomerang" back to the house or something like that. Can you imagine if she did not exchange her property….we will be in the center of the town plaza.

Anyway, there was no architect hired and Lola Azon was assisted by her nephew Felimon Rebong ("Lolo Imon") who was an engineer, or still an engineering student at that time. The house was built during the American period so it is called a chalet. It had plumbing and electricity. For better air flow the  windows were big and surrounded the house. The lower portion of the windows had “ventanillas” (little windows) covered with wooden sliding doors which can be opened too. The upper portion of the walls had open wood carvings. 

On the landing of the main stairs is the “balcon” (balcony) where one can sit to view the plaza. Aside from the main door there is also a door that leads to the first room. There were three rooms before with small doors leading to each room (the word “privacy” did not exist). The first one that opens to the balcon was occupied by Tita Jovit (Jovita, Cora's sister) and myself. The second one that opens to the sala/living area was occupied by Lola Azon and Tio Ato and family when they visited and the third one which opens to the comedor/dining area was occupied by Lolo Judge (Ramiro Relova, Loreto's husband) and Lola Loring. The 3rd room has a door that connects to the toilet/bath. (I recently had a division made to make the toilet separate from the bath during the renovation of the house).

There is no partition between the sala and comedor. When we were young a cabinet was used as partition. The front of the cabinet faced the dining room. The back of the cabinet faced the living room and the old piano was placed there. Actually the furniture pieces were moved around. The location of the living room set now is the best placement. 

There was a sliding door that was the partition between the dining room and the kitchen. The kitchen was smaller until Lola had it renovated. We had no gas or electric stove. We had a “Kalan” (clay stove) that was made of ash. Charcoal, firewood and “bunot” (coconut husk) were used as fire. I remember that there were three parts so three dishes can be cooked at the same time. Can you imagine how hard it was then? Often there was a lot of smoke but there was a continuous flow of air then so it was not so bad. It is said that the food taste better with this method of cooking.There was also a storage room  in the kitchen for (rice) “bigas”, salt etc. and I think a motor to pump water up the house. The pipes of the house was connected to free flow water fountain in the plaza. There was a stair in front of the toilet/bath used to go down to the first floor “silong” (basement).

The “silong” was where the "katulong" (household help) stayed, where the “sampayan” (clothes line when it rains) was, and the “bodega” - storage for the newly harvested and unmilled rice” palay”. Large blocks of ice were also stored there, covered by palay husks (and they never melted!) Lola Loring also had pens for hens that laid eggs and chickens for our food. I hardly went down because the flooring was not yet cemented and it was a bit dark. 

Lola Azon planted a number of fruit trees. We had macopa (java apple), suha (grapefruit), lanzones (similar to lychee), balimbing (star fruit), duhat (java plum), santol (cotton fruit) and yambo (plum apple). Only the macopa (as old as the house) and the balimbing survives. The duhat in front of the house (by the gate) is only around 20 years old.  

There was a “labahan” wash area for clothes at the back of the house. There was a continuous flow of water because of the pipe that was connected to the free flow fountain. There was a huge “kawa” or cauldron where the water fell and we (Tita Jovit and Tito Vic - Vic Del Mundo, Cora's first cousin and son of Renato Del Mundo) used to pretend “swim” or just fooled around and bothered the lavandera (washer woman) . Sadly, I do not know what happened to the “kawa”.

General cleaning of the house was done twice a year, certainly before the Flores de Mayo and I think after the New Year.  Wives of tenants would come (around 4 ladies) and would work for free but they are fed very well and given travel fare and rice to bring home. It is called “panunulungan”. The ladies used “is-is” (ficus leaves) to scour the “pasamano” (window sill) and the floor before waxing. They used “walis na tingting” (broomstick) for the ceiling, walls, iron works followed by “basahan” (rag) soaked in water with soap in “palangana” (basin). I think it took them 2 days to clean everything. Then a male "katulong" (hired help) would wax the floor manually (very labor-intensive), then used “bunot” (coconut husk) to make it shine “lampaso”. I loved the smell of floor wax and the super clean house. One of the ladies was Aling Dulay who loved to bring Michael (Cora's son) fresh eggs.

I also remember that there was a carpet for the sala set. For cleaning the help would hang it on two chairs on the sidewalk in front of the house and beat it with a walis na tingting (broomstick). The lavandera (washerwoman) would also use the sidewalk to sun-dry clothes before rinsing. 

Lola Azon would sweep the leaves on the ground with “walis tingting” everyday at around 4pm and I loved helping her. The leaves were piled up and burned because it drove the mosquitoes away. Every household did it. But in modern times, due to global warming and fumes, the municipal government forbade the burning of anything.

The wood used for the building of the house was mainly narra. Lola Loring (Loreto Del Mundo, daughter of Corazon Rivera) said that the panels with carvings that divides the rooms from the sala and comedor were made in Paete, Laguna. The windows in the rooms are made of wood with capiz shells. The flooring is also made of narra planks and the ceiling is made of wide solid narra. I remember that the materials used for the lower portion were not sturdy so it was cemented to better support the house. 

After lunchtime and cleaning the kitchen was done, the help would iron clothes in the kitchen area with a plantsadora (iron). I remember that before the electric iron a heavy metal contraption with wood handle filled with burning charcoal was used (now considered an antique). The help would also listen to telenovelas on the radio. We were required to have an afternoon nap “siesta”, and we laid on banigs (woven mast) spread out in the living room.

Capiz Shell Window

Plantsadora (Iron), image from Cora Relova

Image of a Kawa, uncredited photo

[apilgrimpassingby]

Designing A Traditionalist Commune

Inspired by chatting with @tradgirllife and @unprofessionalcat about this kind of thing and wanting to share my plans; this is going to be one long post.

Village Layout

Throughout, I will be presupposing a commune of c.100 families adding up to c.500 people. Also, because UK and US English sometimes use the same name for different plants and vice versa, all plants will also come with scientific names. Additionally, this is calibrated to the climate and ecology of Britain; adjust for where you live.

At the centre of the village is the church, which will also double as the meeting place for the village (this will be important later). It sits at the centre of 1000 acres of communally-held sheep pasture planted with clover, (trifolium pratense) dandelions (taraxacum officinale), yarrow (achillea millefolium) and maize (zea mays; this one is useful if the potato crop fails), with this same space including various other facilities - a printing shop, a blacksmith's, a stream for water and a glassworks. The dead are also buried here, with small, subtle gravestones.

Ringing that are houses (design will be discussed soon), each with an acre of land containing potatoes (peel helps feed chickens and a very dense, low-effort-to-prepare carbohydrate source), sweetcorn, beans and squash (the sweetcorn forms a trellis for the beans, the beans fix nitrogen for the sweetcorn and the squash helps both retain moisture) and carrots and onions (carrots ward off onion flies and onions ward off carrot flies), and a fruit grove with chickens (the trees provide the chickens with interesting insects to eat and that in turn keeps the trees pest-free). As for area, 4000 square feet (doubled to 8000 for paths and storage) will feed a single person on a vegetarian diet for a year. There are 43,650 square feet in an acre. 8000X5 = 40,000 for vegetables, with the remaining 3650 square feet being used for chickens and fruit.

Ringing that, in turn, is a forest of Himalayan birch (betula utilis) for firewood and writing material, Sitka spruce (picea sitchensis) for timber and resin/glue and white willow (salix alba) for baskets, painkiller and tannin (for leather-making) production with ponds containing tench (tinca tinca) and mallards (anas platyrhynchos) for meat and eggs (in addition, ground fish bones can be added to chicken feed). Ground shrubs will be similar to those in the sheep field.

House Design

Houses will be built out of straw bales, with a foundation of stones (to prevent damp seeping in), a coating of limewash (to add resistance to fire and water) and wooden cladding (to stop rain; Britain is very wet. Feel free to leave this out in a dry area). Straw bale building is cheap and (if you tie the bales tightly) very warm and surprisingly fire-resistant. However, I envision repairs and new houses leading to a gradual replacement with timber buildings. Rooves consist of a timber frame upon which is placed soil in which to grow herbs for consumption (for the UK I'm thinking oregano, yarrow, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme). This will necessitate strong rooves with gentle slopes, but will be doable, and will increase cultivation space and take advantage of the UK's fairly high rainfall.

Inside, the centre of the house is a wood-burning stove over which the cooking is done. Surrounding that are chairs which people sit on to consume meals, with wooden bookcases (books are printed on birch bark, with charcoal-based ink, wool string and spruce resin for binding and a leather cover) and assorted ornaments. I'm a man, ornamenting houses isn't my thing - women and girls reading this, provide your ideas. Windows are fairly small due to local production limitations, and so there are quite a few of them. In winter, the house is lit with candles made from beeswax or tallow (so we'll want a few beekeepers) and reeds (from around the ponds), made by one of these processes.

To the side are bedrooms. These are fairly unadorned, consisting of a wooden bed, a mattress made from wool and/or feathers, a blanket and pillow of the same and some personal possessions. Also there should be a spinning wheel for the woman of the house to use.

To the back and just outside is the compost toilet. It consists of a wooden shack over a chamber for excreta and another chamber for composting. A bit of guttering funnels urine outside into a barrel of straw (also for composting). Washing is done in a metal tub, with soap made of animal fat or vegetable oil and wood ash.

Clothing

Clothes are made of wool, dyed with nettles (urtica dioica) for grey-green, dandelions for pale yellow, and whatever else is locally available. In addition, natural sheep colours give a range of white, grey, brown and black. Shoes will be made of sheepskin, and some people taking up shoemaking will thus be much appreciated.

In terms of clothing, I'm not particular about styles. I imagine that men will dress something like this and women something like this, but I am very much not particular. I'm a man.

Diet

As composed from the ingredients above, mostly potatoes accompanying vegetable stews of a considerable range. Some treats, such as pancakes, cider and meat, but mostly fairly plain.

Political System

The village is governed by two bodies - the magistrates and the assembly.

The magistrates consist of three randomly-selected adult citizens, with the proviso that they cannot have committed a crime in the last three years and they cannot serve consecutive terms. They meet weekly to judge crimes and set the agenda for the assembly.

The assembly consists of all adults of the community, meeting monthly to vote on proposed laws and actions and vote on applicants for citizenship. The citizenship can vote to modify proposed laws.

Due to the lack of state apparatus, crimes are punished by fines (for minor crimes, especially property crimes), exile (for major crimes - those who are exiled have their crimes, date of exile and sentence length tattooed on their non-dominant hands) or execution (for serious crimes, although this needs to be put up to the assembly and only violent or sexual crimes can be capital).

Note to say if you like this and/or would like to live here, reblog with any comments, questions or criticisms you have.

[elevatorladylady]

Critical Reread - ACOFAS Chapter 1

Join me on reread of A Court of Frost and Starlight

Chapter 1 - F/eyre’s POV

but also one blessed with gifts of all the high courts

It’s absolutely bonker balls that F/eyre isn’t the most powerful being in Prythian given that she is the only one to possess all of the powers of high lords, and really more of the high lords should be concerned about her.

I can wash them

F/eyre is so down to earth because she is willing to wash her own dishes sometimes.

I was still new enough in my role as high lady I had no idea what my formal role was to be.

This is about the Winter Solstice, but it feels like it could apply to any number of things about this brand new position. 

If we have a high priestess do some odious ceremony, as Ianthe had done the year before.

I have so many questions about the high priestesses and what they do. It’s so under developed but is kind of essential to give Gwyn any kind of backstory.

Yes, but none of us go, it’s more for those who wish to honor the light’s rebirth. Usually by spending the entire night sitting in absolute darkness. It’s not quite a novelty for my sister and me, or for the high lord.

Has R/hys always had issues with darkness? I thought that was just F/eyre. Anyway, interesting that there seems to be a huge disconnect from religion and the ruling class in the Night Court.

A year ago, I had been stuffed into fine gowns and jewels made to parade in front of a preening court who’d gawked at me like a prized breeding mare.

I just...

Also pretty sure she’s already donned several fine gowns with R/hysand.

We could of course store everything in the pocket between realms, but

That’s literally where it ends. Why would you not use magical storage? Especially if you’re complaining about storage issues.

The townhouse was a bit small these days, even more so if Mor, Cassian, Azriel stayed over.

Honestly, just kind of hate this for F/eyre. She’s allowed to want a bigger house, but it all feels like a bored housewife kind of thing.

Priestesses angling for positions

Curiouser and curiouser.

High lady of the night court, defender of the rainbow and the desk. Perhaps my solstice gift to myself would be to hire a personal secretary.

How in the ever loving fuck is F/eyre co-running a territory without any personnel?

And yet there was more. There was more I could do to help. Personally I just hadn’t figured it out yet

I’m sorry, but as an absolute ruler with bottomless coffers, she could easily get more housing built and help war refugees by funding the groups that are already doing the work instead of showing up to pass out coats and firewood. They are literally telling her they don’t need her help.

My poor Illyrian baby

Idk why but this phrasing grates on me

I’m doing this from the audiobook, so my apologies for any punctuation errors or misspellings. /// are used to observe anti- etiquette. If you are wondering why I’m reading a book I am very critical of, it’s because I like being critical. Also, for my rewrite of ACOSF.

[sydneyfirewoods]

Sturdy Wood Box for Firewood

Looking for a practical and stylish way to store your firewood? A wood box for firewood is the perfect solution. These sturdy boxes are designed to keep your firewood neatly organized and dry, ready for use in your fireplace or wood heater. Crafted from durable materials, they are built to withstand outdoor elements and add a rustic charm to your home. Available in various sizes to suit your storage needs, ensuring your firewood is always accessible and protected.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very different church conversion was done on this 1876 church in Ulster Park, New York. 4bds, 4ba, $2M.

As soon as you enter, you can tell that it will be different. I've never seen a church decorated in navy and black with antique farm implements.

Stairs lead up to a blue foyer with a terrazzo floor and a fancy carved door molding.

The foyer leads into a combination living room/kitchen. The living room has a new fireplace and it's a small cozy area.

There's a kitchen island and the modern kitchen itself extends farther back.

There's also a side entrance into the kitchen via a small stoop.

From this level is are ladder/stairs made from 2 old beams. The railing is a simple rope.

This leads up to a large open area with such dark walls that I thought they were charred, but it's just dark.

The stone walls are the same that we saw on the exterior. There's a dining area with an elaborate chandelier.

There is also a sitting area, a chopping block and a large round indoor firepit with an exhaust hood.

Looking down on the area, you can see sliding doors to a deck.

The deck is a large size and has 2 storage areas for logs that are used for the firepit.

Back indoors, stairs go up to a lofted bedroom.

This is the only bedroom that is open.

Bathroom #1 is small and done in classic white subway tiles.

The 2nd bedroom is larger and is the primary.

This bath has stone walls and a cool slanted slate sink.

The smallest bedroom works well as a child's room or guest space.

The largest bath has a stone sink, modern toilet & bidet, plus a shower and a vintage claw foot tub.

The 4th bedroom is a nice size.

Here, they built a platform that is used as a home office, and above is a loft stacked with lots of wood for the firepit.

There's another level that looks like a flex-space and it also has an industrial sink.

Two steps up is another area. I really don't know what you'd do with all these various areas.

This is the tower that is in front of the building and there's more firewood stored up here.

Spiral stairs go up the the uppermost part of the tower.

And, this is the view.

There's a .50 acre of property.

[fireplaces01]

Innovative Ideas for Designing a Wood Fireplace on the Central Coast

The Central Coast, with its mild climate and stunning natural landscapes, offers a perfect setting for cosy evenings by a wood-burning fireplace. A well-designed fireplace not only warms up your home but also adds a touch of rustic charm and elegance to your living space. Here are some fresh, innovative ideas for incorporating a wood fireplace into your Central Coast home, ensuring that it stands out as a beautiful and functional centrepiece.

Seamless Indoor-Outdoor Fireplace

Integrating the Best of Both Worlds

Take advantage of the Central Coast's stunning scenery by creating a seamless indoor-outdoor fireplace. This design involves installing a double-sided fireplace that can be enjoyed from both your indoor living room and an adjoining outdoor patio or deck. The design not only doubles your enjoyment but also creates a visual connection between the indoors and the natural beauty outside. Use large glass doors or windows around the fireplace to maintain this connection even when the doors are closed, ensuring a continuous flow of warmth and ambience.

Coastal-Inspired Stonework

Incorporating Local Elements for Authenticity

Elevate your wood fireplace design by using locally sourced stone or pebbles from the Central Coast to construct the surround. The use of native materials not only ensures the fireplace blends harmoniously with the coastal environment but also adds a unique touch of authenticity to your home. You can opt for a rough, unpolished finish for a more rustic feel or smooth, river-washed stones for a contemporary look. This approach also supports local artisans and resources, making your fireplace a true reflection of its surroundings.

Suspended Fireplace Design

Modern Elegance with a Floating Feature

For a modern twist, consider a suspended wood fireplace. This design involves hanging the fireplace from the ceiling, creating a floating effect that is both sleek and sophisticated. Suspended fireplaces are perfect for homes with open floor plans, as they can serve as a focal point without obstructing the flow of the space. Additionally, this design allows for 360-degree views of the fire, making it a striking and functional piece of art within your living area.

Firewood Storage as a Design Element

Blending Functionality with Aesthetic Appeal

Incorporate firewood storage directly into your fireplace design for a functional yet stylish solution. Instead of hiding the firewood, make it a part of the aesthetic by creating built-in shelves or recessed niches around the fireplace. These can be designed in various shapes and sizes, from linear stacks that run alongside the fireplace to geometric patterns that add a contemporary flair. This not only keeps your firewood within easy reach but also enhances the overall look of your fireplace area.

Designing a wood fireplace for your Central Coast home offers endless possibilities to blend functionality with aesthetic appeal. Whether you opt for a seamless indoor-outdoor design, incorporate local stonework, or embrace modern elements like suspended fireplaces and integrated lighting, these ideas ensure your fireplace becomes a cherished feature of your home, providing warmth and comfort for years to come.

[alex51324]

Now, see, the kind of water tower I picture when you say "water tower" is like this:

And it would certainly take some renovation to turn that into a living space, but hear me out. Elevator in the stem part. (If there's a power outage, you're boned, but oh well.) The bulb is divided into levels--probably three; but I've only ever seen these things from a distance, so IDK how big they actually are. I'm thinking probably spiral staircases connecting the levels, but if you want to go Full Whimsey, there could also be a twisty slide for rapidly going downstairs.

Bottom level is kitchen, plumbing, storage, all that kind of stuff. Middle level is a giant open-plan living room, divided into nooks with folding screens and furniture groupings and so forth. Obviously we're punching a row of windows all around the middle level; gotta have some natural light.

Top level, bedrooms. There can be a woodburning stove up there--I like fire, and it would be pretty straightforward to run a chimney-pipe up. (We'll go ahead and assume that in this fantasy I'm paying someone to take the firewood up the spiral staircases.) Windows again, obviously, but maybe dormers or something, to take advantage of the curvature of the ceiling/roof. Depending on the size, either two rooms up there, each one a semicircle, or four, quarter-circles.

And some kind of deck/widow's walk thing, either at the base of the bulb or on top, where you can step out from the bedrooms. (Or, why not both?) Lots of plants in planters, if it's up top.

The only problems* I'm seeing are that A) it would be a real pain in the butt to let the dog out to pee, and B) I'm not actually all that wild about heights. So I guess I'll stick with a normal house located on the ground.

(*For the purposes of this fantasy, we're ignoring the fact that water towers probably aren't made of materials suitable for housing, and that it would presumably be pretty gross inside, and similar logistical facts. If necessary, imagine that the house in question isn't actually a genuine repurposed water tower, but a new structure built to look like one while also actually functioning as a house.)

people who want to live in lighthouse - i hear you, i understand you

but i raise you

living in water tower