#saltbox style house

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1989 home in Madison, New Hampshire looks familiar to me. It's been on the market a long time - 271 days. So, I decided to post it again, b/c the decor would appeal to a special buyer. It has 4bd 2.5ba and asks $895,900. Check this out.

Here's the entrance hall. I'm wondering what that green fabric is over the stairs. Is it a canopy?

Look at that ceiling. I can't quite figure out the decor style of this home- it's rustic, but then it looks jungle-themed, then it gets provincial and traditional.

At first I was confused by the microwave on the counter, but it's definitely the dining area. The home has mulitiple terraces that the rooms open out to.

So, this floor is very large and has a very open concept.

They've painted over some of the original kitchen cabinetry and made it black.

This is like a family/rec room area and the decor changes again. The ceiling looks like it's painted a dusty pink and there's floral carpeting.

There's a piano and a bar around the back of the fireplace. Look at the fancy chairs- they look too big for the bar.

On this side of the fireplace there a pool table, a folded game table, and some gym equipment.

Here's a built-in bench and some storage closets.

This looks like the main bd and it has access to a terrace.

And, this is a secondary bd.

One of the 2 baths.

The house is situated on 1.3 acres on top of a mountain.

[naffeclipse]

Charm Brought It Back

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

I am so excited to present this Hocus Pocus inspired AU requested by the lovely @jackofallrabbits! The boys star as the witchy brothers who return once a fated reader lights the starry candle. They simply must show their gratitude! And what better day to post such a spooky and fun fic than on Friday the 13th?!

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

You turn the key and cut the engine of your car. With a flick, you turn off the headlights. The beginning of a sunset swoops down onto your ill-adjusted vision. The horizon is drenched in purples and oranges as shadows begin to crawl off of trees and their yellowed leaves. It will take a minute or two for your sight to adapt, but you have tilted and revolved the structure waiting just at the edge of the forest within your mind’s eyes for days now. It’s beyond the dirt road you’ve pulled onto the shoulder of.

Blinking slowly, you find the house’s dark silhouette through the boughs of clustered trees, and you sigh at the beauty of its preserved history.

The building is an artifact dating back roughly to the 1630s. A post-medieval English-style home, it contains two stories with an overhanging jetty and stunning clapboard siding that has survived a little under four centuries of existence. Your eyes catch on the windows and your heart sings at the sight. Diamond-paned casement. And there, decorative pendants of celestial bodies, including iron-casted suns, moons, and overlapping symbols of the two. The steeply pitched roof is common for the era and is more renowned in its descendant the saltbox form, but this style boosts its spooky aura.

The Puritan colonists were the ones responsible for importing the style to America as they landed here on the eastern coast. 

It’s no stretch of the imagination to think of witches and execution trials while gazing over the beautiful home. You’re particularly intrigued by the history of the Salem witch trials, and as a historian, you couldn’t deny yourself the chance to enter the building and feed the gnawing need to stand within a piece of history.

Stepping out of your car, a gust of wind carrying the bitter edge of autumn cuts through your brown sweater. You shiver and shut the door as quietly as you can manage. This is hallowed ground. This will supply your ever inquisitive mind which is always looking to the past with a curiosity most insatiable.

You face the home. A footpath lightly serpentines between the trees. Hooligans with destructive tendencies and teenagers on dares will venture here for a spooky, fun time, but are usually caught by the police because the building sits on private property. You asked for permission from the owner of the hundreds of acres of forest land that includes the so-called “Witch House” if you might enter the premises. Given your credentials, you were certain the owner would trust you with exploring the home.

Much to your relief, the owner agreed. 

You look up, arms clutching your knitted sleeves to fight the chill of an October breeze, in awe and reverence. 

From your pocket, you slip out a wrought-iron key with the symbol of the moon overlapping the sun to form a black eclipse and marvel again at the intricacy of ancient beauty. Your fingertips grow chilled in the late hour. The sun shifts from orange to dark, bleeding red like blood from a heart spilled across the horizon. You walk towards the home. 

Perhaps you should have arrived sooner. You were caught in another historical journal depicting the specific timeframe of when this home would have been occupied by its original inhabitants. 

The rumors even now speak of curses and cursed artifacts within the building. Some of it is true—you have confirmed with your own scholarly sources. The original owners were a trio of brothers. They were accused of witchcraft and hanged for the crimes. That much is historically documented and verified. 

What is fantasy is the tale of the brothers casting a curse with their dying breaths, declaring they would one day return if a virgin lit a starry candle on the anniversary of their executions.

Superstition. Most likely, the fear of the townspeople transcended to their children, and their children, down and down until it became a tale to spin on Halloween night around these parts. 

The door is black as you approach it. A stray branch catches on your sweater, pulling on a thread, and you yank yourself free and silently mourn the roughen fabric before returning your attention to what really matters. You must be careful. This entire place is iconic and in need of preservation. 

You slip the key into the lock hole and turn it with a thick, heavy click before the black wood door groans and slides inwards as if inviting you into its sphere. You take a breath. Your boots cross the threshold and you enter the home. 

As is typical of some homes built in the early seventeenth century, an open hall greets you. In the far back is the fireplace with a cauldron still sitting upon an ashy bed. An original wood-carve table and chairs are set to one side as a staircase climbs up into the darkness of the second level. What little red light leaks inside is narrowed and cut up into diamonds by the panes. To one wall, shelves contain dusty and forgotten cooking utensils, once glimmery copper pots, and dinner dishes with designs considered much too gawky in the Puritan era but it causes you to softly gasp.

Your hand covers your mouth as you gaze around you, overwhelmed with the beautiful intricacies of metallic chandeliers holding half-burned tallow candles, and to the other wall lies a bookshelf covered in cobwebs as if the spiders refuse to let anyone examine such precious reads. Your fingers already itch to gently pry out one manuscript and gaze at the original script of whoever wrote it.

But the light—it’s far too dark now. The red has given way to blue and pale indigo. You squint. You reach into your other pocket for a lighter and flick it on. The tiny flame spouts a delicate light. Never would you dare admit this out loud to a living soul, but you so desperately wish to see the home in its authentic state, lit only by the technology the brothers had at the time: fire.

There are thick, yellowed candles lying on the table and clustered together on the narrow window sills. You have no hope of reaching the metal chandeliers but you do spy a candelabra positioned near the bookshelf on a small end table. You light it first with a careful touch of your lighter flame. The wick catches, even after all of these years. You smile softly, your heart warm within your chest as you bask in the essence of this beautiful place.

A few more candles should suffice. 

You slip to the table to light the thick and tall candles. The flames bloom and warm the space in rich light, casting thick shadows from support beams. You almost set your lighter away when you spy one last candle set upon a golden candle holder. The fashioned metal twists and twines with elaborate engravings of shooting stars and slices of sun rays were placed in the corner of the room almost out of sight. The curiosity within you urges you to take a step, then another, and another. You stand in front of the almost forgotten candle.

The tallow is black as midnight. Strange. How did they color this? Embedded within the darkness are speckles of white, splattering the candle like an array of stars. Your eyes stray in search of constellations before shaking your head.

It’s true. There is a starry candle. Perhaps the brothers did dabble in the occult, playing with cards and fortune telling, and being punished with death for their interest in unholy magic. 

The wick is dark and untouched as if it were never lit before. You bring the lighter flame closer. Superstition might worry another, but you concern yourself with logic and reason—explanations of humanity rather than inexplicable forces beyond comprehension. 

Something stirs from a nearby corner shelf. Two long ears twitch. You catch a glimpse of a rabbit with creamy white fur just before it leaps off of the shelf and directly onto your arm. You yelp. Nearly dropping the lighter, you scramble back as the rabbit hits the floor, collects itself, and sits on its haunches.

Green eyes glare up at you. The rabbit, small and bunny-like, stays firmly between you and the starry candle.

You stand with your chest heaving and your lungs scraping out air, almost burning your thumb on the lighter flame before turning around yourself. Where did the woodland creature come from? Did it crawl its way inside like a rat and become trapped within the colonial home? The shot of adrenaline still flowing through your veins leaves your hands shaking.

The rabbit is still watching you with uncanny eyes. Prey animals so rarely stare back at bigger, larger threats. Perhaps it’s a pet. A runaway pet that somehow ended up here, of all places.

You slowly offer out your hand, keeping the lighter away in your other, as you take a step towards it.

It thumps a foot once, as if in warning, then bounds away. You watch it disappear into the house, still reeling from the fright it gave you. 

If Michael was here, he would have laughed and told you to leave with him, now. He never wanted you to go here, especially alone, but you shake such ominous warnings away. He said curiosity killed the cat. You disagreed. This house is a part of history, not a curse. Witches are mere stories, conjured out of historical unrest and the longing to blame bad luck and tragedies upon an individual or three. 

There’s always an explanation for fear superstition or mistrust. It’s far more sad than it is spooky.

You shake your head, smooth out the creases in your sweater, and face the starry candle again. The lighter flame flickers softly as you draw near it.

It is the anniversary of the brothers’ executions. You remember now as the shadows from other candles drape over you like a veil. You are also a virgin.

You laugh to yourself, covering your mouth as you do so. Look at you! You’re getting so worked up because a rabbit jumped at you.

It’s only hocus-pocus.

You tilt the lighter until it engulfs the wick. The flame catches, and you at last snap the lighter shut and return it to your pocket. Your eyes squint slightly at the candle. The wick snaps and bursts into sparks. The flame is not yellow or orange or even blue—it’s pure white like a comet streaking across the sky.

A crack of thunder splits the night sky with a bellow so monstrous, you feel like a child again, fearing a storm. You drop low to the ground, shielding your head as if the very world was going to fall upon you. A spark cracks in the fireplace, conjured out of ash underneath the cauldron before it burns hot and bright. The cauldron immediately begins roiling and bubbling with water. Laughter, great and terrible, and filled with the most jester-like joy sweeps over the room.

The pulse in your ears drowns at any sense but the need to hide. You scramble into the corner, tucking yourself behind the stand of the starry candle and hunker down. Holding your breath, you grab a fistful of your sweater while clutching your chest, and watch the door to the almost 400-year-old house fly open.

Three figures stride inside, looking about the place with wide eyes and disk-like heads framed in jutting adornments not unlike sun rays or shrouded in a heavy, dark blue hood.

“Brothers! We’re home!” The first one, tall and dark with deep red hues to his form, accent in sharp orange sun rays and an eclipse upon his face, turns to face his brother with bright, cat-like yellow eyes. “Isn’t it glorious?”

Another figure steps forward, yellow and off-white. Pale eyes beam. His head is crowned in bright sun rays as well. His spindly fingers twindle together in exuberant energy while he glances about the room eagerly. “Oh, yes, yes! More than anything! It’s as if we weren’t gone for more than a day—though the dust and cobwebs beg to differ.”

He draws a claw—you suck in a sharp breath—along the table’s edge and rubs his taloned fingertips together in disappointment. 

“We must get to cleaning at once.”

“No,” the last figure fixes his hood with silvery digits. Golden jewels hang down the back of his unusual skull, the last and most prominent adornment a thick, golden star pendant. His eyes cast around the room, scarlet, and searching. “We must thank the little mouse who lit the candle.”

He flashes sharp teeth within his wide mouth, shaping it into a hungry grin. You gulp.

“Where are our manners?” The red and dark one twists back to the room with a flourish of his arms. His yellow gaze sweeps over the shelves and floors with a blade-like glint. “Of course, we must thank one so lovely.”

A dark cape drapes about his person. Underneath, a white flowing shirt hangs loosely to his lithe and slender figure, causing you to balk upon staring at such an exposed chest. The other two are no different, wearing similar shirts and dark trousers, but the hooded one bears a thick, longer cape while the sunny figure shares a cape similar to the first.

The yellow one lifts his wrists and frowns at the red ribbons tied around them. Golden bells jingle softly in an ominous chord. 

“How terrible a reminder of our current impermanence,” he growls low in his throat, all cheerfulness lost and causing you to squeeze your ribs in fear.

“Patience, Sun,” the red one speaks, though he too casts a narrowed glance to the black ribbons and golden bells adorning his wrists. “We will affix ourselves back to this world in due time.”

“Eclipse, what a delicious creature I smell.” The hooded figure steps deeper into the home. Blue claws scratch at equally blue ribbons knotted to his hand bones but his attention is terrifyingly fixed on the candle stand just above your hiding spot. 

You shrink further into the corner.

“Yes, Moon? And how lovely?” Eclipse, you assume, asks. His yellow eyes flash.

“As lovely as the stars,” Moon answers.

You watch claws curl around the wooden side of the candle stand, scratching deeply into the wood before a half-moon face emerges from behind, teeth set like a predator’s upon the sight of a wounded animal. Your heart flutters like a bird with a broken wing.

“Hello, little mouse. Won’t you come and play with us?” 

You scream as he leaps behind the candle stand, takes you by the arms, and pulls you to your feet. You struggle to free yourself, crying out as he grabs hold of your wrists and fixes you firmly in place. 

“My, how sweet,” he purrs in a dangerously low voice that rolls in the back of his throat. “You are the darling virgin who lit the candle, no?”

“Let me go!” You thrash but Moon grins in delight, as if you’re simply too precious. 

“You deserve proper thanks,” He lowers one hand, forcing you to submit with slightly bent knees. “Here is my gratitude, little mouse.”

You freeze as he brings your hand towards his mouth, and a hundred, horrifying visions of him biting your fingers off or sinking his teeth in your palm send your blood into a frozen sludge of fear.

The witch, however, presses a kiss to the center of your palm. The softness catches the gears in your mind and jerks them to a halt.

“Thank you for allowing us to return once more,” he rasps. His scarlet eyes find yours between the space of your thumb and forefinger, and a strange stirring takes hold of your middle.

“This isn’t real,” you breathe. Dizziness begins to take hold.

This must be a dream, a thought gone wild, or inhaled bacteria triggering hallucinations.

Moon’s grin widens. He lowers your hand, loosening his hold for one precious moment. You rip your hands free of his grasp. A low growl escapes him but you’ve already slipped away, your eyes upon the door and spilling with the need to rush out into the night, away from the impossibilities standing before you—

Arms snatch your waist and lift your feet from the ground. You gasp. 

Held in the air, you squirm before a hot breath dusts the shoulder of your sweater. You fall still, your throat bobbing as a mouth presses into the corner of your neck and lays a kiss on the sensitive spot. Gooseflesh prickles up and down your body.

“I assure you, I’m very real, little mouse,” Moon purrs. His hands squeeze your hips once. “And as nice as this… attire is, I would dress you in blues and silvers. You would look proper and powerful, like my brothers and I.”

A squeak escapes you. You shrink against him, caught in his embrace.

“Brothers?” The word rattles out of your throat. 

“This is our home,” Moon whispers. “And you are our most honored guest.”

You manage to pry off his hands from your waist. With a sinister chuckle, the blue and silver hands release you. Without looking back, you run, ignoring the twinge in your stomach that whispers it was too easy to get away.

You hardly get a few steps before the sunny one—Sun—steps into your path. He catches you in his arms and spins you in a waltz at breakneck speed, your feet never touching the ground, before stopping without warning as he dips you low. He looms above you, his smile filled with sharp teeth.

“Let me get an eyeful. Oh, yes, you look good enough to eat,” he simpers. His hand splays along the small of your back and you gawk up at him, still trying to regain your balance after the sickness-inducing whirl. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.”

“I just want to leave,” you whimper. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Sunshine,” he laughs, and it echoes with all of his heart—do once-hanged witches have a heart? There is no historical journey to give context to this very moment, you fear.

He lowers his sultry gaze to you. “I wish to only thank you. And I intend to.”

He pulls you back to your feet. You’re still clasped in his embrace like lovers on a ballroom floor. His hand hooks tight to your hip, and his other catches the side of your face. Heat spreads through the marrow of your bones.

On the tabletop beside you, something white moves across the plane of its surface, hunkering behind the thick stack of candles still burning.

His head lowers to your neck. You stiffen as he tilts your head away, opening you to his parting teeth. A tongue, dark and sinuous, flicks out of his maw. A gasp slips from your lips at the wet lick up the column of your throat. Eyelids fluttering, you start to sag as weakness fills your knees. He drags his tongue higher to taste your jawline and finishes at your cheek with a swipe for good measure. 

Your hands find him and clutch tightly to his slender arms. He presses his lips to your ear and with a misty warmth, whispers.

“Thank you for—Gah!”

The white rabbit leaps up from the table, squirming directly between you and his chest, breaking you apart. Instinctively, you jump away just as Sun snarls. The heart-wrenching sound shakes your entire frame as he snatches the rabbit by the scruff before it can scramble back from his wretched claws.

“I’ll boil you alive!” he thunders. He steps towards the cauldron, back where Moon leans against the wall, watching the spectacle with an amusing twitch of his grinning maw. Behind you, Eclipse stands at the door like a sentinel, his eyes still hungry and even furious as he follows his brother’s movement to the cauldron. 

Sun dangles the rabbit, now struggling and kicking but unable to find purchase against the witch’s hold, above the boiling water of the caldron.

“No!” you cry.

Sun’s eyes widen. He turns back to you just as you close the distance and scoop the rabbit in your arms. His claws, pale-boned and wickedly curved, clench around emptiness. Without thought, you turn and run again though there is little hope as you come to the door. Your boots stamp against the wooden floorboards.

The rabbit in your embrace turns its face up to you and mutters in a woman’s voice, “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

You gawk, stunned before hands catch you by the shoulders. You’re brought to a dead halt. The rabbit leaps from your arms, drops to the floor, and races away into a shadowy corner of the room with only one glimpse of its fluffy tail before you’re left alone.

You twist and face the eldest witch’s attention. Eclipse. His yellow eyes go up and down your body, and you watch in muted shock as two additional arms emerge from the shadows of his cap. He forces you backward, one step after the other until your back is pinned against a dusty wall.

You stare into his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your pulse pounds in your eardrums.

“I don’t believe this is happening,” you utter.

The witch tilts his head with a wicked grin.

“We’ll make you a believer yet.” He promises, and his deep cords vibrate through your form. “My dear, we simply must thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

His claws slip over your collarbones. Your breath quickens, a stirring you cannot name unfolding deep within your middle. His extra set of hands fall to your hips and begin caressing the bones. Daintily, carefully, his warm fingertips slip just underneath the hem of your sweater, touching your bare flesh. A shiver runs down your entire body, leaving you to squirm.

“Be a good little comet,” he says softly, “Let me pour my gratitude all over you.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know it was true,” you stare into his face, marked with a red crescent over a dark shadow, and his eyes pierce into the very nature of your being. “You’re back.”

“Because of you,” he rumbles softly in his chest. His grin pulls higher at the corners.

His claws slip over the nap of your neck and card gently into the small, sensitive hairs at the bottom of your skull. You breathe in. His eyes brighten in pleasure before he slips his sharp but controlled talons over the shells of your ears and follows the arch of your cheekbone. His gaze drops to your lips. Your heart thumps and thumps against your sternum so powerfully, you fear he may hear it.

His lips pull over his razor-sharp teeth and you stop breathing.

His other set of hands begins working up the sides of your torso. He rubs slowly and gently, but you squirm despite this. He touches you far too intimately when you have never experienced such affections before. A mewl escapes your lips. You wriggle as he refuses to relent. 

In answer, his upper hands lower and capture your hands together in one, and pin them above your head to hold you in place. He coos, chastising. A great roil starts in your stomach and expands upwards until your face becomes pink and flushed.

“Hold still, little comet,” he chuckles, and you whimper. “I’m not finished with showering you in all my adoration.”

“Eclipse,” your breath is harsh and hot.

“It is good to hear my name upon such lovely lips,” his voice lowers, husky and scorching. “I knew a virgin would light the candle. I swore it to my brothers as they set us on the gallows and draped nooses around our necks. You are our light, our savior. How could I ever thank you?”

In his words, his burning stare that singes with sincerity, it clicks into place. All at once, you believe what you are seeing with your own two eyes. 

It’s true. He’s back. He and his brothers have returned with magic.

“I have questions,” you say hesitantly in your demureness, “I want answers.”

“Of course,” Eclipse agrees easily. “But first…”

A dark claw brushes your hair back from your face. The flutter in your heart can’t seem to hold still. Eclipse’s grin widens and his eyes soften.

“You have freckles like constellations,” he murmurs in the manner of one gazing at the night sky or one studying an ornate painting.  

Before you can shape words to reply, to say anything that might free you from his grasp, his mouth is upon yours. A sound softly catches in the back of your throat. You fall still under his caressing hands still moving below your sweater. He traces the row of your ribs. You have just enough mind to wonder if he feels your skin prickle in your sensitivity. His other hand clasps your wrists tighter. You gasp against his teeth. 

He pulls gently, hungrily, taking you as if a bite of honeycomb. You become melted honey, easily malleable between his teeth and then molded by his mouth. His tongue invades you. You moan softly at the claim he lays upon you until you become weak in the knees and almost fall. His kiss seals your fate.

He releases you from his maw. You sink slightly, and his arms fall out from under your sweater to properly catch you. He lowers your wrists, returns your hands, and brushes your hair once more from your face.

A chuckle emits from his lips, and you burn.

“You’ll stay with us, won’t you?” he asks, but he waits for no answer as he scoops you into his arms. Feet dangling, you have no choice but to cling to his shoulders and endure his brothers’ attention as he twists around and faces them.

The rabbit’s right. You are in trouble. Michael warned you. He said curiosity killed the cat.

But charm brought it back.

[drearygenie]

list of my least favorite architectural styles

purely based on opinion and not to be taken seriously. some of these styles do have good ones! except saltbox.

1) saltbox. IF YOU LIVE IN A SALTBOX HOUSE DNI(joke). IDK HOW IT WAS A THING IN ENGLAND ITS UGLY ASF

2) brutalist. its so depressing and ugly

3) greek revival. its neoclassical but worse the greek elements look even more out of place

4) neoclassical. sometimes it works but usually it makes me want to miley cyrus wrecking ball it

5) modern. (I'm allergic to minimalism)

6) mid mod/contemporary. less about the house style, more about the people who live in them

7) A shaped. Do people even live in those? They're just. so awkward. and don't even get me started on intense weather

8) ranch. mid.

9) cottage, theyre just very basic and small. NOW BEFORE YOU GET ON MY GRILL I mean real cottages. the original designs from hundreds of years ago, not the nice Pinterest one. they just feel very unspecial (but ill admit they look cozy)

10: art nouveau (hit or miss)

[andibuilds-simblr]

Saltbox: A Little Women Inspired Build

Download and details under the cut!

40x40 · Fully Furnished · CC Heavy, Included

The Saltbox style home is a New England staple. Built during the colonial period of American history, these homes were simple and functional.

One of the most famous colonial era homes is Orchard House, where Little Women author Louisa May Alcott lived with her parents and sisters, and was almost a character in the novel itself. To bring your cozy autumn to a close this year, I wanted to create a house inspired by the Alcott home, in all its eclectic warmth. Like Orchard House, this build is early colonial in architecture but mid-19th century in furnishing and decor. Where possible, I’ve tried to keep the appliances and plumbing off-the-grid, as a nod to the time period. It has a kitchen, dining, formal parlor, sitting room, mud room, three bedrooms, and a flexible attic space to stage all your childhood plays. This build is very CC heavy, but I have included a sortable CC list and folders this time which should allow you to only keep the Build CC and eliminate the Buy if you’d rather furnish it yourself CC-free.

Required/Recommended Packs:

Horse Ranch

High School Years

Cottage Living

Eco Lifestyle

Seasons

Cats and Dogs

Get Together

Werewolves

Realm of Magic

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Laundry Day Stuff

Basement Treasures Kit

Thank you to all the wonderful CC creators out there who make historical builds more fulfilling! This build has a lot of beautiful CC from @pierisim @harrie-cc @felixandresims @lilis-palace @anachrosims @sooky88 and many more! Full list and credits are in the drive folder below.

Download Here (GoogleDrive)

[gerykei13]

Taylor Swift albums but I've been taking a lot of road trips recently and my imagination likes to make storylines out of albums so I thought I'd explain some of them:

folklore: two stranded friends oddly reconnect again when a guy that didn't know what he wanted breaks up with one over the summer, getting them into a 'high school love triangle'. Some get married, some others don't, some get divorced, some dedicate their lives to help, and some die. Fate brings them all to separate ways, eventually getting forgiveness, love, and closure, and eventually reunites the two of them in the same saltbox house. 50s-60s setting, some sapphic undertones, and death.

evermore: a love triangle between two stranded high school friends, one moved on, one stood still, and the former's fiance, who's well aware their relationship is going nowhere. No one gets married, she would've made a lovely bride thought, and there's an unsolved murder case in between the drama. Eventually, they all learn to let go, some run away, like you'd run from the law, and others just move on with their lives. 70s-80s small town "where the crawdads sing-style" setting, sapphic undertones are actually very much evident lol, and death obviously.

speak now: once upon a time in the 1500s off in a foreign land, a young prince made friends with a forest witch, eventually falling in love. There's dragons, magic, love, and a tragic ending full of hope ahead. "A Canterlot Wedding" vibes, medieval-ish setting, sapphic side story of course there is one I AM going to make everything gay because it's my headcanon/fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, someone dies holding their head like a hero on a history book page

red: a recent middle-class divorcee unknowingly makes friends with with her ex-husband's mistress. A tale of youth, growing up, letting go, and forgiving. They get separated at the end because not every story has a happy ending, you should know that by now. Themes of grief and anxiety come into the story. Late 2000s setting I guess I never really thought about the timeline on this one, a BIG sapphic storyline, I already said grief so I also want to mention there's a lot of bright lights scenery and an ambiguous long-distance ending

[vscmaja]

Roofing-8 Different Types of Roofs

When you are planning to build your home or renovate your home, it is important to pay attention on roofing. There are many different roofs available in the market. Every roof is different from each other. You must choose your home roofing which suits your country climate and home structure. Many of us only know about flat roofs and pitched roofs but there are many different styles are available. There are different kinds of roofing styles available in the market. Here is a description about some roofing materials and styles. The first roofing type is the mansard roof. The mansard roof is made up of four slopes. Two slopes are on the each side of the home. The lower slope of mansard roof is a steeper and it is vertical slope than the upper slope. The upper slope of mansard roof is not visible from the ground. This is the French style of the roof.

The advantage of this roof is it gives extra space for living or storage at the top of your home. The second roofing type is the gambrel. This type of roof is same mansard roof. The main differences are that it has vertical gable ends and the gambrel roofs hang over the frontage of the home but mandrel roof does not. This roofing style is Dutch inspired pattern. The third roofing type is saltbox. This type of roofing style looks very interesting. Saltbox is an uneven long pitched roof. It has one short side and one very long side. The fourth roofing type is pyramid roof. The shape of this roof is like a pyramid. This type of roofing is used in small home structures or small home portions. This type of roofing is usually used in pool house or garage. The fifth type of roofing is hip roof. This type of roof is sane as pyramid roof. The only difference is that its four sides meet at a flat spot. This type of roof is architecturally more practical than other roof types.

The sixth type of roofing is bonnet roof. This type of roofing is same as pyramid roof or hip roof. The only difference is that two of the slides slope out an angle. This type of roof is mostly used to cover outdoor porch area or veranda. The seventh type of roofing is flat roof. The main benefit of this roof is that it construct very easily because it design is simple. This roof is also safer it you are going to stand on it. This roof is usually more accessible. The one big disadvantage is that flat roofs need more maintenance than other type of roofs. The eighth type of roofing is skillion roof. The skillion roof has single sloping roof surface. The half surface of this roof is like triangular roof and the other half is like as flat roof. Much modern architecture suggests using this type of roofing to create different and unique shape. The appropriate roofing type can give a great value to your home.

[elotroalberto]

Film on AIFF Website: Jefferson Cutter House by Michael Armanious

The Jefferson Cutter House is a historic saltbox-style house built in 1832.

It was built by the Cutter family, mill owners in Arlington. In the 1970s, the house was sold to the Mirak family, who owned it for nearly 19 years.

In 1989, the Town of Arlington purchased the house for $1 and moved it to Arlington Center.

The house is now home to the Cyrus E. Dallin Art Museum, which opened in 1998.

The museum houses a collection of Dallin's sculptures and paintings, as well as the

Cutter Gallery,

which exhibits the work of local artists. 

https://aiffest.org/

[truck451]

A House In The Saltbox Architectural Style, In The Process Of Being Re-Sided, Located In The Town Of Cutler, Ohio

A House in the Saltbox architectural style, in the process of being re-sided; located in the Town of Cutler, Ohio:

[throofingsolution23]

Roof Styles for Home

Just like homes, Roofing Solutions are available in a variety of styles and shapes. Roof style makes a statement in architecture. A roof can make such a powerful style statement that it is often the case that the rest the house just follows suit. A mansard is a common roof style in French 19th-century architecture. It is also seen on French country style houses.

You will see two types of neighborhoods when you drive through them: either a dominant style of roof or a mixture. In a neighborhood where a dominant roof style is prevalent, homes are often built by the same builder or in the same period. Homes in a neighborhood that has a mix of styles of roofs were built at different times by different builders. This is true for both old Victorian neighborhoods and modern subdivisions.

These are the most popular styles of roofs on homes:

Gable- The gable is a roof that has two slopes that meet at the central ridge. Both sides have the same angle and length. The name pitched roof or peaked roof is also used to describe this type of roof. This simple style is used by many homes all over the world.

Cross Gable -A Cross Gable Roof is two or more gables that meet at a right angle. This stylish update of the traditional gable is found on many homes.

SaltboxThe roof of the saltbox is a variation on the gable. The house is two-story in the front, and one story at the back. For this arrangement, the front gable has a steeper slope than the longer, shallower run at the back. This roof, also known as a "catslide", is a New England tradition.

HipThe roof of the hip has four sides with the same slope. The longer sides end at a point on the ridgeline, while the shorter sides are at a point near the end of the ridgeline. This type of roof was popular in 1960s and 1970s subdivisions.

Pyramid () - A pyramid roof has a hip style roof where the sides are arranged at a point rather than meeting at the ridgeline. Some roofs are equal in length and have the same slope, while others have a different slope and length. Since ancient Egypt, this style is common.

Mansard The mansard is a roof with four sides, each of which has two angles. The lower angle, which is often quite steep, accommodates openings and windows. The steeper angle at the top is centered at a peak, or along a ridgeline. This is the traditional French style.

Gambrel A gambrel is similar to a mansard, except that the roof has angles on only two sides. The two other sides are flat, similar to the ends of a gable. This style is commonly found in French- or Dutch-influenced neighbourhoods.

Flat –A roof with a flat surface is a plane that has little or no slope. There is some disagreement, but most roofs that have a slope of 10 degrees or less are considered flat. This style is common for commercial buildings.

Shed The roof of a shed is a flat roof with one side higher than the other. Many modern houses have a slope of at least 10°.

Barrel Roof The barrel roof has a half-cylinder form that runs along the length of the roof. It is a good choice for a rectangular structure.

Dome RoofA circular structure needs a dome roof that resembles half of a globe.

[civiconcepts]

30 Types Of Shed | Different Types Of Shed In Backyard | Types Of Backyard Shed | Best Shed Styles Designs

Introduction To Shed

There is a number of factors to take into consideration while you are thinking about creating the shed in your backyard. Considerations include were to create the shed, its size, any inside furnishings you might wish to add, the color, and even the materials you would like it to be created. The majority of us really benefit from having extra room, whether it's for work, storage, or leisure activities. However, expanding the square footage of an existing house can be both expensive and time-consuming. For this reason, most homeowners are turning to backyard sheds. It can be difficult to choose the perfect Type of Shed for your requirements because there are a lot of options available.

What Is Shed?

Shed The shed is an excellent structure to keep in your backyard which can benefit everyone. The shed is an outstanding choice that will increase the look of your house and used for many years. By giving a location to keep garden and lawn items, festival decorations, sports equipment, and other items, the backyard shed can significantly benefit the organization of your house. The backyard storage shed offers a lot of advantages. In a backyard, a shed is usually a straightforward, single-story roofed structure used mostly for activities and as a workshop. It is available in a variety of sizes and shapes, as well as the best sheds provide different storage options like shelves or spacious areas that are suitable for storing both large and small things. In short, backyard storage shed stores as well as secures objects that might usually be in the way unsecured or unsafe in the backyard. The Different Types of Sheds are highly known for withstanding the effects of nature, including rainfall, winds, snowfall, heat, and humidity. Read More: What Skills Do I Need To Build A 10×12 Backyard Shed?

Types Of Sheds In Backyard

There are several distinctive and eye-catching Types of sheds available on the market, and installing one of them in your backyard will improve your outside surroundings. As you purchase your home, some types of sheds will already be there, or you can choose to have one created in your yard. - A-Frame - Gable - Lean-to - Saltbox - Gambrel (Barn-style) - Vinyl Shed - Green Roofs - EPDM Rubber - Clay Tiles - Personal Belongings Storage - Metal Shed - Firewood Storage - Roofing Shingles - Wood Shed - Tool Shed - Sheet Metal - Large - Extra Large - Medium - Small - Cement Blocks - Concrete Pad - Gravel Pad - Concrete Piers - Garden Office - Studio - Greenhouse - Modern - Storage - She Shed - Shed Flooring Materials - Shed Floor Insulation - Post and Beam - Ventilation A-Frame Shed

A-Frame Shed The A-frame sheds are a particular form of a shed that has an A-shaped design with a sloped roof that comes to a point in the center. The A-frame sheds are usually smaller as well as composed of either metal or wood. A-frame sheds are among the most often used types because of their affordability and accessibility. It can be used as a workplace, a playroom for children, or even as storage. Gable Shed

Gable Shed A gable shed is an excellent option if you want to construct a shed in your backyard which provides lots of storage area and suits the majority of house styles. These Types of shed would be a great option for any outdoor space because it has plenty of capacity for tools and gardening equipment. Gable Roofs are appropriate for areas that have a high amount of snow because they are created to sustain heavier weights. Lean-to Shed

Lean to Sheds Lean-to sheds are unique in shape. Among all shed types, the lean-to-shed is probably the simplest to construct. There is just a single panel on the roof. The fact that one of its walls in this structure is shorter compared to the rest makes it special. Obviously, the shorter side contains less space, although it is still used in many sectors. It can be used for storing tools, barn sheds, housing livestock, and other things. Read More:12 Different Types of Gardens | Most Popular Types of Gardening | Top Garden Types With Pictures Saltbox Shed

Saltbox Shed Saltbox sheds are described as having a longer sloping roof at the rear and just a smaller one out front. A saltbox shed is a good option if you want to suit the color of your shed to that of your home. These types of sheds also include fashionable windows with outside shutters, which enhance their visual appearance. It can be used as a workshop, playroom, garage, or even as an area to store goods that you don't know other places to put. Gambrel (Barn-style) Shed

Gambrels Shed This particular types of shed is well-known because the inside has plenty of height due to the roof's extremely high slope. Gambrels types of sheds are the best choice if you are looking for a shed to enhance storage, put a car in it, or make a workspace. It is the best choice for your requirements because they are both spacious and adaptable. VinylShed

Vinyl Backyard Shed The less expensive alternative for your shed can be a vinyl-type shed. Vinyl is a popular material for sheds because they need less maintenance as well as can be less expensive initially. This type of shed is suitable for storing items. Vinyl roofing is an excellent choice if you want to add an extra layer of protection to your shed. Green Roofs Green Roof The green roof is really a good choice if you want to have a roof that blends in with the surrounding environment. These types of sheds are created with a water-repellent membrane to prevent water from penetrating the shed and resulting in moisture problems. EPDM Rubber Shed

EPDM Rubber Shed EPDM rubber roofing is composed of recycled rubber as well as comes in huge rolls. It is commonly used on industrial structures with flat or low roofs. It is simple to install on new roofs as well as also performs well as a replacement if the roof has been broken and has to be repaired or replaced. Read More:10 Best Outdoor Plants For Home | Top Outdoor House Plants Clay Tiles Shed

Clay Tile Shed If you want to give your shed some serious curb appearance, think about using clay tiles for the roof. You must plan for clay tiles from the beginning of your foundation because they are weighty and difficult to utilize for a roof. Otherwise, your shed won't be able to hold them. Furthermore, the walls as well as the roof of the shed must be of good quality in order to withstand its weight. Personal Belongings Storage The one important reason that several renters as well as homeowners create this types of shed on their property is to have a place to keep their personal stuff. As humans age, they start to gather more and more things, and it might be difficult to let things leave as well as get rid of them. Metal Shed Metal Shed The metal shed won't corrode for a very long time because they are usually made of galvanized steel or stainless steel. Metal is a durable substance that can resist a variety of weather conditions. The advantage of steel is that it resists fire, which is especially beneficial due to its low cost. Therefore, metal types of sheds can be the finest choice when you intend to store flammable objects. Firewood Storage

Firewood Storage If you are using firewood to heat your house, you are aware of how crucial it is for the wood to remain dry, especially in regions with lower planting temperatures. The firewood rack is a fantastic place to begin when it comes to securing your firewood. As the firewood has reached the appropriate season, you should carefully store it inside the shed to preserve it safe, dry, and ready for use. Roofing Shingles The roofing shingles ensure that your shed completely suits your house and gives the appearance of being a part of it. Furthermore, using excellent shingles also means that you won't have to think about leakage or the roof failing soon. It is a good idea to replace your house shingles as well as the shingles on your shed roof at a similar time, as this will ensure that they age at a similar time and continue to look wonderful together. Read More: What Is A Privacy Fence | How To Install Privacy Fence | Best Privacy Fence Materials Wood Shed

Wooden Backyard Shed Wood is usually a long-lasting shed substance. It looks wonderful and is a wonderful option when you want to use the shed as a home office or a place for your children to play. The wooden types of shed can resist the weather as well as prevent decay if built and maintained carefully. Moreover, you have the choice to add extra paint and design components to a wooden shed to better customize it. Tool Shed

Tool Shed Every householder has instruments that they use to maintain the home but it might be difficult to identify where to place your tools if you don't have space in a basement or a garage to store it. Backyard sheds work well for this purpose and they will store your yard equipment and tools safely. In addition to having floor space, tool sheds usually contain a few shelves for storing tools, fasteners, and many other small items. Sheet Metal Shed

Steel Metal Shed Sheet metal is generally used for commercial structures, and it is a fantastic choice for the house shed because it is not only affordable but also highly durable. If you stay in a place which suffers extreme weather, this is a great option because it greatly reduces the chances that your roof will ever be damaged. Large Shed

Large Shed By selecting a slightly bigger types of shed, you get a lot more storage capacity as well as the freedom to move around. This is a crucial aspect to think about if you want to use your shed for working on equipment or potting plants. Some larger sheds can be used as a home office or as a personal area. Extra Large Shed

Extra Large Shed All types of garden machinery, vehicles, toys, or excess stuff that don't accommodate your house or garage are excellent options for storage in the extra-large types of shed. They are also suitable as a home office or creative area. Medium Shed

Medium Shed The medium shed size is perfect for storing small garden equipment like riding lawn mowers which you need to store after usage but don't wish to bury or make difficult to find. Choosing a medium-sized shed will allow you to store a few extra things. Small Shed

Small Shed The smaller shed choice will be suitable if you only need a shed to keep a few random pieces of outdoor equipment or gardening tools. These shelters are less expensive, take up a smaller space on your land, and are less noticeable to visitors. Read More: Essential Things to Consider When Building Your Dream Home Cement Blocks Shed It is a really simple types of shed with a base built by stacking cement bricks till you achieve the desired level. After that, it will be simple to place the shed on top of the cement blocks. Concrete Pad The concrete pad foundation performs well enough to support heavy types of sheds as well as it is suitable when you want to store your big machinery, car, and gardening machinery inside of heavy sheds. This types of shed will have a permanent as well as a stable foundation; you will not be willing to relocate it in the long term. Gravel Pad Shed This shed foundation will only function properly if the area where your shed will be placed is completely level. It is crucial to create a barrier across the foundation to prevent the gravel from moving. Concrete Piers Shed Concrete piers are an excellent foundation for almost every size shed, even if they are more time-consuming to construct and durable. To make piers, holes are drilled or excavated into the soil up to the frost line and the holes are then filled with concrete. Garden Shed It is crucial to be able to relax in peaceful surroundings in order to concentrate on your business strategy; many homeowners who require additional areas are creating high sheds on their lands in order to use them as workplaces. Studio Shed The studio sheds are a fashionable unique method for homeowners to build extra bedrooms, man caves, home workshops, as well as other recreational or useful areas. Read the full article

[moonverc3x]

Does J have a house or a place to stay at??? Because I have funny idea and it has something to do with this.

Indeed she does!! I made a 3D model of it to help me with drawing rooms and stuff!

here is the floorplan, and if you're comfortable, dm me your email and I can send the 3D model to you! (anyone can ask if you want it--)

[ilovemyarchitect]

NEW @FC3ARCHITECT RESIDENCE ON THE BOARDS - From Plain Saltbox to Mediterranean-Style Residence

NEW @FC3ARCHITECT RESIDENCE ON THE BOARDS – From Plain Saltbox to Mediterranean-Style Residence

The latest designs for this new expanded home consist of a modern spin on a Mediterranean-style county home with spanish tile roof.  We achieve this by expanding the existing two-story home to the left of the existing garage and the the entrance of the existing home.  Updated second floor layouts allow for outdoor living space over the new garage addition. The new front addition boosts a new…

[starlightments]

                                    PREVIEW: chapter one

    When Keith’s notorious temper lands him in major trouble at school, he’s forced to serve out his time somewhere even more nightmarish than detention: the drama club. Despite his determination to avoid the spotlight at all costs, an unintentional mishap ends up getting him not only cast in the show, but playing opposite Lance McClain, a boisterous and bright-eyed thespian who Keith just can’t seem to shake – on stage or off.   

Language: English  |  Rating: TBD  |  Art Credit: here  

FANDOM: Voltron: Legendary Defender

GENRE: High school AU, rivals-to-lovers

PAIRING(S): Keith/Lance

                                                 . . . . . . . . . . . .

It’s getting late by the time they roll into Keith’s sleepy little neighborhood, the one with the crooked power lines and flickering streetlamps lining the sidewalk, dead trees swaying high above the rooftops like shadowy claws in the night. 

Adam drives with stiff precision and only one hand on the wheel. The other is busy massaging tiny circles into his brow, right above the wire frame of his glasses, where a migraine is inevitably beginning to flare up. 

“Almost there,” comes his low, weary voice.  

Keith, drowsing in the passenger seat of Adam’s decade-old Volvo, sullenly stirs to life. Sensation creeps back into him like moonlight through the mist, only harsher, less pretty: the rattling engine, his throbbing nose, that split second of startled realization when he looks down and sees dried blood smeared across his knuckles. 

He misses the silence—and the numb, hollowed-out feeling that came with it—but at least Adam has the decency not to pry. Earlier, while Keith was waiting to be picked up outside school, palm pressed against his busted lip in a messy attempt to stop the bleeding, he had already braced himself for what he assumed would be one hell of a tirade, but aside from a half-serious quip about tossing Keith into a roadside ditch if he gets blood stains anywhere near the leather upholstery, Adam hasn’t uttered a single word until now. 

One of his better qualities, really, in Keith’s honest opinion.  

“Yeah,” he mutters, slumping in his seat so that he can put his feet up on the dashboard. “I know.”  

At the traffic light, Adam glances over, concern hanging heavy behind his eyes as he drags them up and down the boy’s face, examining his bruises in that cool, clinical way he sometimes has about him. It makes Keith want to snarl like an angry wolf.  

“Put something cold on that when you get home,” Adam instructs, leaning over and calmly knocking his feet back off. 

“I know that, too,” snaps Keith. His scowl threatens to split his lip open all over again. “I’m not an idiot.” 

The light turns green, and Adam shifts the car back into drive. “Well,” he sighs, “that’s debatable.” 

A row of quaint saltbox-style houses comes into view. Most of them have gone pitch-dark by now, except for Keith’s, which still has a faint glow sneaking past the living room curtains. Of course, his brother is probably inside—waiting up for him on the sofa, clutching diligently at his phone—and even just imagining it puts Keith on edge, skin prickling all over, hot and itchy with dread. 

“You’ll be alright, then?” Adam asks once he pulls into the driveway. 

“Sure,” says Keith, shouldering his bag. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“It was definitely not my pleasure at all, whatsoever.” 

Keith finds himself hesitating as he reaches for the door handle. A muscle in his jaw clenches, protesting what he’s about to say. “Just—don’t tell Shiro.” Then, after a moment of reluctant consideration, he grumbles, “…Please.” 

Adam’s lip curls on one side, like it’s a secret. “I doubt I’d need to, anyway,” he says, nodding at Keith’s nose. 

Huffily, Keith takes the hint; he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe a fresh trail of blood away, and then clambers out of the car without any grace or regard for how Adam’s whole face puckers in disapproval. The Volvo swerves back onto the street in a spray of gravel, headlights fading into a distant, smoldering speck. Keith watches from the curb, watches himself get left behind in the gloom, before heading toward the light. 

The way he slinks into the house feels like a well-worn routine. Every step is carefully calculated. He knows which floorboards creak the loudest, and exactly how to maneuver around them, but there’s nothing he can do about the screen door squealing shut behind him. 

“Hey,” Shiro calls out from the living room. His voice just barely carries over the muffled prattle of some fast-talking infomercial salesman on TV, followed by the rustling of couch cushions. “How was your day?”

Keith swiftly ducks into the kitchen. “Uhh,” he calls back, yanking the freezer door open and rifling through it. Not that there’s much to account for in there—a couple ice trays, some frozen corn, and a carton of mint chip ice cream with a very questionable expiration date. “Fine,” is what he eventually settles on.   

“Oh, really?” 

He smacks a bag of corn over his left eye, and then closes the freezer door when, suddenly, out of nowhere, Shiro materializes on the other side of it. Keith jolts at the sight of him, feeling something go all tight and panicky inside his throat for a second, until he notices that lopsided little grin on his brother’s face. 

“Because I heard it was…” Shiro takes an exaggerated pause here, tapping his fist against the bridge of his nose to pantomime a punch. “…smashing.”

Keith stares flatly with his one good eye as Shiro repeats the gesture, looking expectant, like his humor is impeccable and Keith is just being oblivious. 

“Can’t cut the dad jokes for five seconds, can you?” he drawls. “That’s what you get for adopting a kid.”  

“No,” says Shiro, dropping the act in an instant. He waves an arm at Keith’s disheveled appearance. “This is what I get for adopting a kid.”  

As if to prove his point, Keith’s nose decides to leak again, landing with a quiet splat on the linoleum floor. When Keith glances down to look at it, even more spills out onto the front of his shirt. 

Shiro sighs, slow and long-suffering. 

“Sit,” he says, and Keith automatically frowns, bristling at the command before determining he’s too exhausted to argue right now, anyway, so he goes and hoists himself onto the kitchen counter. 

This part feels like a routine, too: the fallout, the adrenaline crash. Guilt always comes after the fact, a delayed reaction, swarming in Keith’s chest like a secondhand smoke while he watches his brother get on his knees and wordlessly scrub all his bad, bloody impulses off the floor.  

An apology buzzes around Keith’s brain, but this time, just like every other time, it turns to dust before it ever makes it to his mouth. He’s trying to figure out how to say sorry without saying he wouldn’t do it again—because he would, in a heartbeat.

He will not apologize for the kind of boy he is. The kind of boy this ruthless world forced him to become.  

“Adam texted me right before you got in,” Shiro goes on, standing now, removing a first aid kit from the junk drawer next to the sink. “Said I should be prepared.”  

Keith scoffs out loud, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. “Traitor.” 

“Actually, you should be thanking him,” says Shiro. “Not many people would be willing to drive out of their way at this hour.” 

“Yeah,” Keith mutters dryly, “Adam the saint.” The eye roll is implied. “You know he only did it ‘cause I’m your brother, right? Like, if he gets on my good side, then maybe you’ll finally get your head out of your ass and ask him on a date or whatever.”  

Shiro startles so bad he nearly fumbles the kit right out of his hand. Watching him flush and fluster over even the slightest mention of his perpetual will-they-won’t-they with a certain fellow school teacher will never not be hilarious, Keith thinks, as his brother scrambles to compose himself. 

“Wh—wh-ho-ho—wait, what. No. That’s…that’s not even—” Shiro starts, then abruptly freezes, a tentative little hitch tugging at his brow. “—I-I mean, why? Did he say something to you about…?”          

Keith just smirks at him. He knows it’s insufferable. 

“Nevermind.” Shiro shakes his head as if to recalibrate it. “Just—he’s just a friend, Keith, I’ve told you a million times,” he says, which isn’t a lie, but the faint hint of red still lighting up his cheeks makes it seem like one. His focus snaps back to Keith, almost accusingly. “Besides, how would you know? You just suffered a head injury. You could be severely concussed.”     

“Right, yeah, I’ve been severely concussed for the past three straight years, watching you two dance around each other like you’re—”

“Aaand that’s enough of that,” Shiro blurts at once, crowding into Keith’s personal space, only to snatch the corn away and replace it with the cold, stinging press of a disinfectant wipe. 

Keith jerks back, hissing, “Ow!” 

“Uh-huh,” replies Shiro, undeterred.

“I said ow!” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be so ow if you’d just hold still.” 

He takes Keith’s chin between two fingers, not unkindly, but firm enough to stop the squirming. Up close like this, Keith can make out his brother’s expression in stark detail, every crease and wrinkle that digs into his brow. While Adam tends to wear his judgement boldly on his shirtsleeve, Shiro has always kept his hidden in the fine lines of his face. Keith closes his eyes, inhales loudly through his nose, and endures it. 

“So,” Shiro says after a while, still rubbing at Keith’s wounds, “are you going to tell me what happened?” 

“Miscalculated a right hook. It was a fluke. Won’t happen again.”

“Keith,” says Shiro, slower, sterner. “Why were there right hooks being thrown in the first place?”  

Warily, Keith cracks one eye open. The guilt from earlier gives a nudge, a warning, pushing insistently at the space between his ribs, but Shiro’s gaze is gentler now. It’s a sort of familiar comfort that’s easy to fall into.       

“Some jackass at school said some stuff, and I…” he admits in a rough, rumbling voice, “…I thought if I bashed his mouth in then nothing stupid would ever come out of it again.”  

“Did he call you a name?” Shiro asks, quiet and careful, like maybe he already knows the answer.  

Keith grits his teeth, then nods. 

“A bad one?”    

A pause. Another nod.

Shiro presses his lips together, setting the wipe aside with utmost seriousness. “Look, Keith, I’m not saying that little punk didn’t deserve it,” and he keeps his hold on the boy’s chin, tilting it higher, so there’s no choice but to meet each other’s eyes, “but you can’t keep getting yourself into trouble like this. There’re only so many strings I can pull at school before the faculty decides to suspend you for good.” 

“Fine, then suspend me!” barks Keith, flinching away from Shiro’s grasp, all defiance. “I don’t even wanna be there, anyway!”  

“Keith,” says Shiro. It’s soft but devastating. “We made a deal. Finish high school, or I’m not signing your application to the flight academy.” 

The urge to yell comes to a sharp, shuddery halt in Keith’s lungs. He knows it’s useless. They’ve been down this road before, perhaps hundreds of times, and it always leads them to the same dead end. 

His eyes have been pinned on the sky since he was ten, fresh out of his third foster home, when Shiro showed up in the clean-cut silhouette of his pilot uniform, collar starched, badges glittering like polished chrome, and Keith felt something burst to life under his skin. 

That feeling follows him, even now. It keeps him up at night, wild with a longing he can’t quite articulate, counting the stars beyond his bedroom window and knowing he’ll never truly rest until he gets a taste of them on his tongue. 

But right here, on this planet, in this middle-of-nowhere town, he’s stuck. 

Grounded. 

Keith swallows around the desperate ache in his gut. “Why can’t I just go now?” he practically whines, words slurred with the way his swollen lip puffs out at the corner.  

“Because,” begins Shiro, “I want the best for you.” When Keith gives him an unimpressed look, he tries once more with vehemence, “Because accidents happen, Keith, and one day you might find yourself unable to fly, and then what’ll you do?”  

Reflexively, his arm twitches—the prosthetic one, that is. Its metallic sheen catches Keith’s eye in the dim light, smooth and unnatural against the jagged strips of scar tissue around Shiro’s shoulder. Keith doesn’t have the heart, or the guts, to challenge him. 

“I dunno,” he mumbles, shrugging miserably. “Be a teacher? Worked out for you.”  

“Yeah, except you’d make a terrible teacher,” says Shiro. He offers a smile, small and rueful. “I pity the young mind that gets molded by you, mister right hook.”

He reaches out and ruffles Keith’s shaggy hair, which is annoying because it makes Keith feel like a little kid again, but it manages to break some of the tension, too, so he lets it happen. A laugh slips out of him as he swats ineffectually at his brother’s hand. 

“‘Kay, so,” he says with a smirk, like he’s daring Shiro to do his worst, “what’s my punishment gonna be this time?” 

“Well, actually, I was thinking you could stop by the auditorium after class,” Shiro tells him. “We could really use an extra hand with some set pieces for the fall play.” 

An intense rush of horror sweeps through Keith. That is, in fact, Shiro’s worst.  

“Shiro,” croaks Keith. 

His brother perks up innocently. “Hm?” 

“The drama club? Seriously?” Keith splutters for a moment, nearly going dumb with outrage. “Just—just—just put me back in detention like a normal person!”  

“Oh, so you can punch another kid in the face like you did today? No, not happening,” says Shiro, packing up the first aid kit and tucking it back in the drawer. “I need you where I can keep a close eye on you, and I already promised Adam I’d supervise the first round of auditions tomorrow.” He throws a bright, sparkly grin over his shoulder at Keith. “We’re doing Romeo & Juliet.”  

“Wow, so original,” Keith mutters, perfectly deadpan, as he slides off the countertop. “Also I don’t care.” 

“3pm sharp,” Shiro calls. Keith, who’s already made it out of the kitchen, pauses on the staircase landing to flash his brother an unenthusiastic thumbs-up, then continues stomping up to his room. “I mean it, Keith, don’t be late.” 

[froody]

my favorite house styles:

adobe

saltbox

Queen Anne

Georgian

gothic revival

mid-century modern

log cabin but the old type the new ones are hideous

[thetinycowplant]

SALTBOX HOUSE

hello everyone! this was my first time experimenting with platforms and i am in love with them!! they’re a small detail but i think they worked really well in this house!! i also buiit this because i wanted to use platforms...and i am not sure what world i am going to work on next. (also i am aware this is not an actual saltbox style home, i just liked the name) i hope you enjoy!

20 x 15 lot

CC Free

2 bedroom, 1 bathroom

§ 46, 816

packs required: get together, get famous, eco lifestyle, parenthood, tiny living

Please use the cheat “bb.moveobjects on” before you place this house

origin ID: sigh_angel

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[seeyouinnashville]

saltbox house ≠ holiday house

the saltbox house is different from holiday house! the SBH is the house rebekah moves into once she first leaves st. louis, holiday house is the house bill and rebekah buy once they’re married!! the definition of a saltbox house doesn’t make sense for it to also be holiday house. holiday house = taylor’s current rhode island mansions, not the saltbox house

definition of saltbox house: A saltbox house is a traditional New England style of house with a long, pitched roof that slopes down to the back, generally a wooden frame house. A saltbox has just one story in the back and two stories in the front. The flat front and central chimney are recognizable features, but the asymmetry of the unequal sides and the long, low rear roof line are the most distinctive features of a saltbox, which takes its name from its resemblance to a wooden lidded box in which salt was once kept