#norwegian cabins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vestaignis · 12 days ago

Text

PAN TREETOP CABINS - АРХИТЕКТУРА ДЛЯ СОЗЕРЦАНИЯ ПРИРОДЫ.

Отель PAN Treetop Cabins, созданный архитектором Эспеном Сурневиком, находится в норвежском лесу и идеально подходит для сказочного отдыха.

Дома-Шалаши, принадлежащие Кристиану Ростаду и Кристине Мовинкель, расположены на высоте 8 метров над землей на стальных опорах, погруженных на 6 метров в скальную породу, что обеспечивает устойчивость при сильном ветре. Сурневик, который также является профессором Школы архитектуры Осло, черпал вдохновение в этом регионе, в частности, в комиксе финской художницы Туве Янссон с изображением сказочных персонажей по имени Муми-тролли. «Для меня это подлинное ощущение того, как нордический человек относится к большим расстояниям между поселениями в сельской Скандинавии, одиночеству, темным зимам и холодному климату».

Второй источник его вдохновения, очевидный в дизайне винтовой лестницы, ведущей в хижину, - это пожарная смотровая башня, которая, по словам Сурневика, является частью ландшафта в лесной полосе, окружающей северное полушарие. «Эти пожарные вышки построены так, чтобы в засушливые сезоны смотреть на огромные леса в поисках дыма и огня», - говорит он.

Архитектор Эспен Сурневик выбрал американскую типологию лоджа с А-образной рамой, потому что он «одновременно интимный по ширине и монументальный по высоте, и представляет собой нечто базовое в своей треугольной форме».

Наружная облицовка зданий из черного оксидированного цинка и стали помогает им сливаться с окружающим лесом. Каждый дом шалаш имеет внутреннее пространство длиной 9,5 м, высотой 5,5 футов и шириной 3,6 и может с комфортом разместить до шести человек. Уютная гостиная, мягкое настенное освещение и светлый пол из твердых пород дерева Энергоэффективные А-образные дома-шалаши обращены к солнцу и имеют большие застекленные фасады, пропускающие свет и тепло.

Для отдыха в домике есть антресоль с двуспальной кроватью, дополнительные спальные зоны, скрытые во внутренних стенах, небольшую кухоньку и камин, а также ванную комнату с туалетом и душем.Интерьеры облицованы сосновой доской, а текстиль в домах сделан из 100% местной шерсти. В качестве отопления есть дровяной камин и деревянные полы со встроенным электрическим отоплением. Из окон спального лофта открывается вид на верхушки деревьев.

«Мое видение состояло в том, чтобы создать что-то, что легко вписалось бы в ландшафт, не внося больших изменений в окружающую природу...» - говорит Сурневик.

PAN TREETOP CABINS - ARCHITECTURE FOR CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE.

The PAN Treetop Cabins by architect Espen Surnevik are located in a Norwegian forest and are ideal for a fairytale getaway.

The Treetop Cabins by Christian Rostad and Christina Mowinckel are located 8 metres above the ground on steel supports sunk 6 metres into the rock, ensuring stability in strong winds. Surnevik, who is also a professor at the Oslo School of Architecture, drew inspiration from the region, in particular from Finnish artist Tove Jansson's comic strip featuring the Moomins. "For me, it's an authentic feeling of how Nordic people deal with the long distances between settlements in rural Scandinavia, the loneliness, the dark winters and the cold climate."

His second source of inspiration, evident in the design of the spiral staircase leading up to the cabin, is a fire lookout tower, which Surnevik says is part of the landscape in the forest belt that surrounds the northern hemisphere. “These fire lookout towers are built to look out over the vast forests in dry seasons for smoke and fire,” he says.

Architect Espen Surnevik chose the American A-frame lodge typology because it is “both intimate in width and monumental in height, and represents something basic in its triangular form.”

The buildings’ exterior cladding of black oxidized zinc and steel helps them blend into the surrounding forest. Each cabin has an interior space measuring 32 feet long, 18 feet high and 12 feet wide, and can comfortably accommodate up to six people. Cozy living room, soft wall lighting and light hardwood floors The energy-efficient A-frame houses face the sun and have large glazed facades that let in light and warmth.

For relaxation, the house has a loft with a double bed, additional sleeping areas hidden in the internal walls, a small kitchenette and a fireplace, as well as a bathroom with a toilet and shower. The interiors are lined with pine boards, and the textiles in the houses are made from 100% local wool. For heating, there is a wood-burning fireplace and wooden floors with built-in electric heating. The sleeping loft has a view of the treetops.

“My vision was to create something that would easily fit into the landscape without making big changes to the surrounding nature…” says Surnevik.

Источник://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g3592302-d15293006-Reviews-PAN_Treetop_Cabins-Flisa_Asnes_ Municipality_Hedmark_Eastern_Norway.html/truestory.no/norges-20-fineste-tretopphytter/, //www.architime.ru/news /espen_ surnevik / pan_treetop_cabins.htm#13.jpg, //udom-spb.ru/articles/treugolnyy-dom-shalash-a-frame-kupit.

142 notes · View notes

retrocesosdestacion · 1 year ago

Text

INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen

ingrid engen x reader

genre: smut, minor disastrous.

warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.

notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷‍♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.

How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.

“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”

Rosenfeld.

❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.

Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.

Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.

❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞

❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.

You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.

After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.

Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.

❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.

❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞

You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.

You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.

❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.

Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.

The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.

❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.

So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞

❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.

Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.

It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.

You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.

❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.

You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.

Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.

❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.

Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.

❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.

❝ To take away. ❞

And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.

❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.

❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.

And yes, she is playing with you.

The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.

At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.

❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞

❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞

Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.

The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)

Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.

Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.

You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.

Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.

The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.

❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.

The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.

Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.

If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.

Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.

❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.

The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.

But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.

And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.

❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.

You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.

It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.

But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.

Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.

Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.

Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.

Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.

It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.

Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.

❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞

Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.

The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.

You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.

❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.

Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.

Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.

Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.

❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.

You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.

Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.

It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.

The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.

Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.

Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.

After all, you were one step away from being in public.

Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.

And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.

With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.

Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.

❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.

Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.

Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.

Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.

The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.

❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.

You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.

And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.

Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.

❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.

Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.

The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.

On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.

But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.

Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.

At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.

Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.

And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.

The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.

❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.

❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞

You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.

❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞

❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞

An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.

❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.

❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.

❝ But I— ❞

She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.

❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.

❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞

#woso #barça femeni #fc barça #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen fic #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni

501 notes · View notes