#shaker linen closet

[michelepoehler]

Miami Bathroom Kids An illustration of a medium-sized transitional children's blue and porcelain tile Bathroom with porcelain tile, blue floor, one sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, drop-in sink, quartz countertops, hinged shower door, white countertops, and built-in vanity.

[demasiadasmalasideas]

Beach Style Closet - Shaker Dressing room: large, coastal-themed, gender-neutral, medium-tone wood floor and brown floor dressing room idea with shaker cabinets and white cabinets

[mappingbarcelonapublicart]

Kids in Philadelphia

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here’s a 1960 manor in High Point, North Carolina that’s mostly white and black, but what attracted me to it was the lemon yellow accents. It really breaks it up and looks sharp. It has 5bd., 6ba. and 2 1/2ba. $1.2M. 

The entrance hall is painted gray, but I like the leopard runner, the floors and the yellow bench. Notice the shiny black door on the right- that’s how you use black- sparingly, not like the house we saw yesterday. 

See how the yellow pops? I really like it. This house is classy.

Lovely breakfast table area.

They’ve seamlessly combined old & new. 

Beautiful shower- look at the textured shine on the wall. 

I like the yellow theme running thru the house. Very elegant formal dining room, and the black door with white molding looks spot on. 

1/2 bath. Is that wallpaper? I like the sheen.

Light gray Shaker cabinets and marble or quartz backsplash in the kitchen and pantry. 

Even the hall is gorgeous and look at that storage cabinet.

So pretty. This is one time where I actually don’t mind all the gray.

Another nice shower. 

This is so beautiful for everyday dining, it’s stunning. 

Gorgeous library.

Gigantic covered porch.

And, here we are upstairs. 

The main bd. is a stunner. They had to have a professional decorate this place. 

This bed is a showstopper. 

Notice the 60s look of the lighting. It must be original. 

Hall of closets.

I like how they incorporated the animal patterns. Even the colors of the books are coordinated.

Another bath.

Linen closet could be used for shoes. 

All the bds. are so pretty.

Here’s a walk-in closet.

Nice little room looks like it could be a dressing room. Notice the fancy cat bed.

Knotty pine den.

This garden room is fabulous.

Looks like a little potting room. 

Great pool.

Have you ever seen a storage room like this? It’s all sorted. 

Nice grounds around the house. 

https://triad.mlsmatrix.com/matrix/shared/pJT6N1VHSw/923CountryClubDrive

[21astor]

Say Hello to New luxury apartment developments in Portland

Get to Know Robert Ball

Robert Ball has become synonymous with luxury residential apartments portland, but that reputation didn’t come without paying the dues of hard work. Robert Ball’s passion for renovation and real estate began nearly 25 years ago.

On the Road to Portland’s Premier Luxury Apartments

After honing his incredible talent for purchasing and rehabilitating small properties, Ball purchased his first apartment building in Portland’s Nob Hill District. With a ton of elbow grease, he was able to transform the 1920s-era Sara Ann Apartments into a Class A apartment community, with the highest quality rating for a property.

Becoming One of Portland’s Leading Developers

Following the Sara Ann Apartments, Ball’s passion for revitalizing aging properties has grown exponentially. Robert Ball has completed six high-profile projects, in the heart of Portland’s downtown, including 21 Astor.

And now on to the star of the show — the 21 Astor community and its 27 impeccable units. Residents not only benefit from decades of experience in residential development, but also a deep-rooted philosophy of service, style, functionality, attention to detail, and excellence. There are many reasons why 21 Astor is distinct from other luxury apartments in Portland:

An Incredible Location in NW Portland

Located steps from the notable NW 23rd Avenue in the Nob Hill District, 21 Astor’s LEED-certified homes have an impressive walk score of 97. Tenants have everything they could need right at their fingertips. In addition to Portland’s top coffee shops and restaurants, there’s no shortage of major grocery stores, boutique shopping, banks, houses of worship, and local businesses that support health needs.

The Robert Ball team worked hard to incorporate equally elegant and purposeful features. This ensures that every resident experiences the seamless harmony between a vibrant urban center and chic, comfortable apartments:

Building Features

Timeless red brick exterior

Controlled access and exterior call box for guest admittance

Statuary Carrara marble slabs and 24k white gold Bisazza “cut-tile” mosaic in the lobby

Neoclassical designs

Ground-floor restaurants and storefronts

Private balconies for street-facing apartments

Public transportation options nearby

Community Features

On-site, indoor parking

In-house management services

Reserved storage spaces on each floor

Bike storage and maintenance areas

Pet-friendly facilities including washing station

Package acceptance and holding

Exquisite and Spacious Apartment Homes

Robert Ball Companies knows it is crucial for an exceptional community to be impeccably complemented by an exceptional apartment home. 21 Astor merges functional and sophisticated elements to create ideal living spaces for the contemporary Portlander:

Apartment Floor Plans

One bedrooms luxury apartments range from 701 to 743 square feet and boast fabulously unique living and dining spaces larger than other apartments in Portland’s Pearl District. Every one bedroom also includes an en-suite, pass-through style bathroom and large walk-through closets with plenty of storage.

Two bedrooms luxury apartments Portland range from 933 to 1,165 square feet. All units spotlight large living and dining spaces, pass-through style bathrooms (with the master including a stand-up shower and double vanity sinks), and large walk-through closets. Plus, each bedroom is located on the opposite side from the other so as to generate as much privacy as possible.

Apartment Features

Crisp, clean, and modern designs and fixtures

Wrap around kitchens with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances

Breakfast bar seating

Lofty ceilings

Conveniently located stackable washers and dryers

Air conditioning

Enormous windows that allow plenty of natural light

Quartz Carrara countertops and shaker cabinets with abundant space

Tiled bathroom floors as well as tiled shower/tub surrounds

Food pantries and linen storage

Extra storage lockers available

As you can tell, we’ve built something remarkable here at 21 Astor. With only 27 units, our team is able to put all our time and energy toward making sure every resident feels that they are truly at home. Our goal is to cultivate an upscale experience that’s a perfect complement to how you live, work, and play.

Are you searching for a place in Portland that’ll provide a little something more, both inside and out? 21 Astor’s luxury apartments near the Pearl District provide an unprecedented level of comfort for those looking for a refined living experience in NW Portland.

The leasing agents at 21 Astor would love to hear from you! Connect with us to get more acquainted with our Portland’s Newest Luxury Apartments!

[straight-into-the-animus]

A Place For Crows To Rest Their Feet (French Fryes)

Cause some people were interested in the idea of older French Fryes apparently and I thought I’d try my hand at it.

Song title and fic inspo from Marbles by The Amazing Devil

Read on Ao3

Arno felt old. 

Well, he was old. It was made sure of that when at his last milestone birthday that everyone decided to overload the cake with candles representing his age. He had been able to laugh it off as a joke then. But now everytime he looked in the mirror and saw a new wrinkle near his eyes and mouth, he scowled.

When he saw his favorite music being relegated to the classic station, he flipped the channel.

And when it was cold and rainy and shitty outside and he had difficulty getting out of bed, he grumbled.

Jacob always just laughed at his perturbed expression and would say that they didn’t need to get out of bed anyway and would snuggle in for a few hours more.

Even though he knew Jacob never meant anything by the things he said, it still made him feel bad. His husband was only a few years younger than him. But the problem was he didn’t look that bad, and if he felt old he never told Arno. He was already aging like fine wine. Arno felt like aged milk.

Jacob had noticed once before, when Arno pointedly avoided looking in the mirror while they were hip to hip in the bathroom getting ready for the day.

“‘ou a’righ’?” He asked around a toothbrush.

“Hmm?” He asked, toweling off and looking over as Jacob spat out the paste and washed his mouth out before trying again.

“You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… off. Didn’t even hear one ABBA song in the shower, either.” He smiled a bit, trying to get Arno to copy. Which he did, but it was gone rather quickly.

“I’m fine, mon amour. Just tired, still.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, pecked Jacob’s cheek and made to leave, but got pulled back. Jacob kissed him deeply, the taste of mint still on his tongue and making Arno hum; his husband’s mouth was still practically sinful after all this time. Jacob pulled away and then went back in for one more peck on Arno’s lips, leaving both of them smiling.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Arno said, meaning it completely as he left to go get dressed.

He tried to make sure that was the end of it, or at least to keep it out of sight of Jacob. But then his pride went down like a kick in the balls when he woke up one morning and saw the roots of his hair turning gray. Like ash gray. Like old gray. He’d gone out to the shops immediately and found the darkest box color for his hair that he could and shoved it in the back of their linen closet the minute he came to his senses.

Really, it was a bad idea. If he did it, he’d have questions no one wanted to hear and explanations he really didn’t want to give. And Jacob would find out anyway. But it was an impulse purchase he didn’t think through and so he hid it until the time was right, if it ever would be.

And then Jacob noticed him as he entered the living room and let Arno in on their small couch to watch whatever inane reality show they both liked, and then he forgot about it, because how could you remember anything at that point?

It didn’t take too long for his husband to find it out, though.

“Care to explain this?” Jacob said, coming into the dining room where Arno was trying to clean, and Arno turned too quickly at the tone in his voice and stubbed his toes on the thick table leg.

“Merde-!”

“Jesus, Arno- Don’t try and die on me now.” Jacob went over quickly as Arno sat in one of the chairs, placing something on the table as he pulled up the other chair next to Arno’s. Arno waved him away and curled up his hurt foot to rub it.

“Don’t touch it.”

“Drama queen. Do you need me to get the first aid kit? Or do you think you’ll live?” 

“You’re hilarious. Have I mentioned that before?”

“Only on days that end in “y”.” Jacob replied, and Arno stewed a bit. It didn’t take long for him to look over at whatever it was Jacob had brought into the room, and he grew a bit pale. Jacob, of course, because he had such a great eye when he wanted to, noticed immediately. “Figured it was yours.”

Arno didn’t grace him with a response at first. But the silence wouldn’t give.

“I found some gray hairs.” He mumbled.

“Yeah… Those tend to happen when you make it a few decades.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it! I don’t want to get old, Jacob. I’ll be… Gross, and senile, and you’ll hate me.”

“Please tell me you’re joking. You are joking?”

Arno flexed his hurt foot and quickly set it down, making to leave but stopped as Jacob grabbed his wrist and sat him back down in the chair.

“You know what I like so much about you getting old?” Jacob didn’t wait for Arno to answer. “It shows you made it.”

Arno almost made a rebuttal, but stopped when he tried to parse through the words and actually think about them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve known you for decades.” Jacob still held Arno’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “Since Uni. And you did the dumbest shit. I’m surprised we’ve gotten to this point without you needing a liver transplant.”

Arno looked down. He knew exactly what Jacob was talking about. He had been twenty two and having daily panic attacks about leaving university to actually be a person. Most relationships with girls and some guys were limited to one quick go in bed and then he was gone in the morning. 

Jacob hadn’t been much better off emotionally, or financially, but at least he knew how to handle his shit better. They made an interesting match that way.

“You’re getting old because you’re alive. And I get to see that.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well it isn’t.”

Silence overtook for a few minutes as Arno looked down and Jacob studied him.

“Then I guess you must really hate me looking old.” Jacob said.

“I could never. And the difference is, you look good. You still have cute waitresses flirting with you despite the ring.”

“You mean from the diner last week?” Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Leanna had to be forty. And she was just being friendly.”

“She certainly wasn’t giving extra ketchup to me.”

“I would’ve given it to you.”

“So generous.”

“One of my best qualities.” Jacob murmured as Arno’s eyes remained dropped. A hand moved up to Arno’s cheek, and he realized Jacob’s pointer finger was tracing the lines near his mouth and the crows feet on his eyes. “Didn’t marry you for nothing, you know. I knew what I was getting into. And even if you turn out to be a grumpy old hunchback who can’t walk, I would still choose you if I had the choice.”

Arno felt his eyes start to glass over the longer Jacob spoke. It wasn’t some great speech. It was simple, and short, and matter of fact, and just… Jacob. Just as he had been for decades. And it sounded just as sincere now as it sounded when they were much younger men and first said they loved each other. And it was as sincere as when they had finally gotten married not even a decade ago. Arno had a shaky smile and squeezed Jacob’s hand, allowing the other one to keep exploring the tracks in his face.

“‘Sides,” Jacob purred as he leaned in closer, a gleam in his eyes, “being older just means you’re full of experience. And how could anyone say no to that?”

“Jacob-” He didn’t even know where he was going with his sentence, but it hardly mattered when he felt a warm pair of lips on his neck, making their way up his face. He turned his head at the right time and caught Jacob’s lips with his own. They both smiled, a soft thing.

“I love you.” Arno said.

“Love you too. Drama queen.” Jacob smirked as Arno rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Maybe stop putting up such high standards and I’ll consider taking a step back on my quest for perfection.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I gotta put in work to keep you in love with me. Sure as hell it isn’t my personality keeping you locked up.”

“Certainly not.” Arno snorted, leaning in and resting against Jacob. The man held him for a minute before speaking again.

“You believe me yet? That you’re good? And we’re good? Even if you get old?”

“I’ll work on it.” Arno admitted. Whether it was what Jacob wanted to hear or not, he was still welcomed in and let to rest for a while longer.

“Let’s move this to bed so we don’t stiffen up, eh?”

“You’re not going to carry me like you used to?” Arno asked teasingly as Jacob helped him stand up out of the chair. The man shrugged.

“Can’t. I’m too old.”

It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t. But Arno laughed until he coughed, anyway.

They ended up throwing the box color out with much prejudice. And when Jacob started growing his own gray hairs, looking like a salt and pepper shaker, Arno just ran his fingers through each one while they watched inane reality television.

So. I ended up creating a whole other backstory for these two but found I couldn’t fit it in to the story, lol. If you’d be interested in that as well, let me know.

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request!  If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day and thank you for reading!

[slava-zone]

Dove's Landing 🕊️

Glossy white like a dove's wings, a modern home with traditional inspiration. This three story house has an open concept living, four huge bedrooms, a luxurious pool, laundry or craft room, and home cinema. Despite the small lot, it's grand and spacious. With plentiful windows, comfortable yet sophisticated spaces, and a multitude of amenities, this home is for relaxing as well as entertaining guests.

☆LOT DETAILS☆

Price: §124,911

30 x 20 lot size

4 bedrooms

4 bathrooms

Furnished

☆REQUIRED PACKS☆

Basegame only!

(Photographed in Windenburg because it matches the style)

☆REQUIRED CUSTOM CONTENT☆

By @peacemaker-ic

Austere Building Set

Vaulted Ranch

Sophisticated Paneling

Moroccan Tiles

Basegame Rustic Planks (just Small)

Atwood Dining

Bayside Bedroom Set

Bradford Seating

Hamptons Builtin

Hamptons Getaway

Hamptons Hideaway

Mina Kitchen

Shaker Kitchen

No Occluder for appliances

By @ravasheencc

Mugnificent Personal Brewer

Rooting for You Plants

By Madhox

Color Coordinates Part 2: Floors

Fireplaces (just Original Fireplace Recolors)

Halcyon Closet System

By @onyxsims

The Linen Closet

By Brazen Lotus

Separated Beds - Original (just Basegame; I don't use "hider" files)

By Plasticbox

Backless Double Delight shower

By @13pumpkin31

Awesome Curve Lounger Recolor (includes mesh)

While building, it didn't seem like a lot of CC, but writing out the required list does make it seems like a lot... I actually went back and removed a bunch, trying to consolidate! Links are given, rather than a file, as this best respects the wishes of most of the CC creators.

☆INSTRUCTIONS☆

Place the required custom content packages in your "Mods" folder.

Download lot files at Google Drive link at bottom of page. Unzip and place into the "Tray" folder, or download lot on Gallery with OriginID: Slava-Zone. (Make sure to tick on "Include Custom Content" when searching.)

Make sure that "bb.moveobjects" is on before placing lot in game. (Some of the columns may jump up with it on, will need to be adjusted.)

Currently, most CC chairs that slot to surfaces have been broken by the EA bunk bed update. This can be fixed by running them through the Sims 4 Studio batch fix. Content Management > Batch Fixes > Objects > Fix Chairs (March 2021 patch)

Some of the CC listings haven't been updated in years, so running everything through Sims 4 Studio with appropriate batch fixes is a good idea anyway.

☆PHOTOS☆

See here for full album! 📷❤️

Downstairs has a room ready to add a washer/dryer, or craft/project supplies, and the home cinema is ready to be upgraded with Movie Day Stuff. Yard can be customized many ways. A garden? A hot tub? Maybe convert a bedroom or two into kids' rooms. Bunk beds? Toddler items? A pet room? Possibilities for upgrades are endless! If you do personalize the home, I'd love to see; tag me on some pictures. 😊

Playtested and everything is functioning in-game for me. This is my first ever upload... Hopefully everything works and appears! But please let me know if something doesn't seem right. Thank you for looking! 💖

*･༓☾ DOWNLOAD ☽༓･*

[catharina-sophia]

Residential Factory

2 Bed, 2 Bath. Lot Size: 30x20. 3 Floors. Costs: $183.266.

Gallery: CatharinaSophia

Background story and CC links below the cut.

Background story

After going to an exhibition about diamond workers, I got inspired to build a factory. Now, the Sims 4 base game doesn’t have factory-items like conveyor belts, interesting machines or vehicles like forklifts. So I decided to go for a residential build. A few days after my inspiration struck, @felixandresims​ and @harrie-cc​  released their KICHEN set, and it happened to work perfectly with my ideas.

The entrance isn't big, but offers a place to hang your coat, an ottoman to put on your shoes and a shelf for your keys. On the left is an office, offering enough room for books - or clutter - and two desks. I mean, who likes to work alone?

The main room is a large kitchen/dining/living area. The kitchen is quite large, that’s Felixandre and Harries fault. Once I placed the first cabinet, I had to place more... and more...

The dining area is also made with the KICHEN pack and can fit 8 Sims. The large windows optimize the looks on the content of the wine bottles. They are purely decorational. Seriously.

The living room - or should it be plural? - offers plenty of room for a TV, clutter and a bunch of Sims. On the other side of the room dividers you can enjoy the fireplace, lounging on a gorgeous sectional.

The first floor has a balcony in the middle. In earlier times, cranes and pulleys would have been here. The left side of the floor consists of the master bedroom, en suite bathroom and walk in closet. The master bedroom has it’s own TV and seating area, to give that extra luxurious feeling. The en suite bathroom is a gorgeous black and white room, so your Sim is the one to bring in the color! The walk in closet is large enough to feature a his-and-hers-wardrobe.

On the right side of the first floor there’s a guest bedroom, equipped with a drawer, a bed, bookcases and a desk. In style, of course. The main bathroom has a decent amount of counter space, a double shower and cabinets for your entire perfume and shampoo collection.

The last room on the first floor is a gym/workout area. Instead of a TV, there’s a big window broadcasting the absolute best slow TV channels!

The top floor - attic, if I may - is a music and art room. The acoustics are optimal for playing the piano and the guitar, but participating in quieter activities like painting can be done here as well.

Not pictured

Ground Floor: Backyard

Ground Floor: Dining room

Ground Floor: Entrance

First Floor: Bathroom (main)

First Floor: Walk in Closet

Attic

CC used:

Felixandre x Harrie

The KICHEN (here and here)

Peacemaker

Misc: Old World Wild Plank Flooring, Bruuno Industria (Triple), Classic Wall Set (Look At Me Tile Walls), Colour Me Black Modern Rugs, Harlow (Left Chaise Lounge, Left Chaise Sofa)

Atwood Dining (Dragged Vase 02, Dragged Vase 03, Geometric Terrarium, Short Chandelier)

Atwood Living (Acrylic Side Table, Large Tea Light, Medium Tea Light, Small Room Divider, Small Tea Light)

Austere Building Set

Drapery Delights (2 Tile short, 3 Tile Counter, 3 Tile short, 4 Tile short)

Essa Kitchen (Open Cabinets)

Futura Living (Storage Box)

Grove Furniture Collection (Double Bed Frame, Ottoman)

Hamptons Getaway (2 Tile Basin, Accent Table, Bath Bomb Jar, Bath Soaks Jar, Bath Tub, Double Shower, Laundry Hamper, Short Height Linen Cabinet, Stackable Folded Towels, Towel Rack, Soap Jar)

Hamptons Hideaway (Coffee Table, Fireplace, Reclaimed Propeller, Stacked Vintage Books, Tripod Floor Lamp)

Hamptons Retreat (Bedside Table, Dresser, School Bell Alarm Clock, Wingback Chair)

Lennox Kitchen (Medium Ceiling Rangehood)

Mid-Century Abode (Leftside Reading Lamp, Luxurious Bedding V1, Rightside Reading Lamp)

Myra Living (A Bookend, Books 01, Books 02, Floating Console Drawers, Floating Console Shelf, Paper Document Holder, Pencil Holder, Polygon Mirror, Z Bookend)

Shaker Kitchen (DiamondCut Knife Set, Flour Jar, Preservex Breadbox, Rice Jar, Salt & Pepper Duo, Shelf, Sugar Jar)

Vara Office (Desk with Drawers, Inspire Laptop, Swivel Chair)

WyattSims

A study In Wood

MIN Bathroom

[frangipanidownunder]

It’s a New Day, It’s a New Dawn: fic contest entry

This was my entry to the fic contest. Cancer arc. Mulder and Scully go on a date.

She’s been having dreams. Vivid, cinematic. Bright kaleidoscopic photography. It’s an irony that her skin is parchment-pale and her eyes are gray-ringed and she fights the urge daily to disappear herself in the comforting wrap of her charcoal fleece.

She doesn’t smile too often yet. She still finds that hard, despite her positive prognosis, despite being dealt a second hand in life. Maybe living with death changes muscle memory. She doesn’t smile for many reasons, like her mother’s almost oppressive love and her brother’s tight surprise at her recovery. But sometimes her lips twitch at the relief Mulder’s hides in his own easier smile, the protracted looks he hangs on her when he thinks she isn’t paying attention, the more frequent night-time phone calls – that come much earlier now. Honestly, she misses their 2am slot. They spoke more freely then, shared fears among the ideas, dropped old stories into the mix of autopsy results and wild theories. She knows he’s been frightened to his core by her cancer. And, like the child that still lives in his soul, he doesn’t quite know how to shuck off that terror.

              Remission. It’s a strange term. Sending back, releasing, abating, waiving a debt. Like she owed somebody something. If she has rejected death’s shackles, then it goes that she must be free. She must be able to do as she pleases. She remembers reading about the first sexual revolution – in the Roaring Twenties when the heavy burden of war had lifted and the novelty of life and living powered up. Jazz clubs, movies, cars. The world changed profoundly for that generation. And there’s something about the curious and colorful hope in her dreams that makes her feel the same way.

              Last night’s dream lingers under her skin, behind her eyes, in her breathing. Magical, sensual, sexual. She can’t pin it down but it made her feel good and she wants to hold on to that feeling. She stretches her toes out under the soft linen and enjoys the warm weight of it molding to her body. During her treatment she couldn’t bear anything against her skin, even the lightest touch scratched at her skin, burnt, bruised, scarred. Now she craves it.

She’s always been tenacious, clinging to noble principles or boyfriends past their use-by or scientific proof despite what she’s seen. She has gripped life by dagger-like horns and held on, palms bloody and torn. This time she has won and she needs to celebrate. She bought herself new underwear and pyjamas in the most luxurious silk, and she booked herself in for a day treatment at the local spa hoping to shed the last of her dying cells and front this new life of hers with fresh, unblemished skin.

___

Mulder drops by. He’s no good at lying, gives himself away with too many stumbling starts and glances to the left. He rubs his nose and she stares boldly at him, this glorious man in front of her holding out daffodils, the flowers of new life and hope. He’s asking her to dinner and she wants to believe it’s because he feels the same things she does, but she knows it’s really because he needs to see that she’s eating.

“My shout,” he says and there’s a vague air of desperation as he taps his wallet in his pocket.

The restaurant is bland. Mulder is the bright spot with his embroidered reminiscences and luminous smile. He’s genuinely delighted to be entertaining her. He can’t help trying too hard. This man who has lost everything and still believes in fairy tales and happy ever afters. The truth. Mulder’s truth has always been about a bigger picture, a higher purpose. The mundanity of dying just wasn’t in his vision.

              “I’m not keeping you up too late?” he asks, checking his watch for the fourth time. It’s only just gone nine and she feels extraordinarily awake.

              “I’m fine, Mulder. I’m having a nice time,” she says but knows it’s not enough for him. His mind will be worrying through all the things he has said or hasn’t said or should say. She covers his jiggling fingers with her hand, his sharp intake of breath punctuating the moment. “I want to say thank you for believing. For having faith and for your courage. I know how hard it must have been for you to see me that way. I don’t think I’ve told you how grateful I am.”

              His fingers still and his shoulders fall forward a little. He turns his head to the street. There’s nothing to see out the window but the rain falling into orange spools of light cast by the lamps, but his attention is captured by it. It seems he is all out of stories. “There was no choice,” he says, monotone matching the outlook. He does lift her hand and close it inside both his palms, and it feels like he’s covering her heart.

              She has a sudden urge to dance. To drink incandescent cocktails in a shady club. Wear feathers round her neck and Charleston until dawn. She wonders if Mulder has ever danced, although she dimly recalls a story about his mother teaching him to waltz as a pre-requisite life-skill, alongside swimming and cooking. Teena and Bill Mulder’s priorities in life were never quite synchronized. Genteel living on the Vineyard or trading your daughter to a syndicate of power-hungry men?  

              “Have you ever been to a jazz club, Mulder?”

              He releases her hand along with an unguarded laugh. “What?”

              “A jazz club, you know? Dancing, drinking, cigarettes in black holders, pearls and boas.”

              He’s still chuckling, all teeth and chesty laugh. “I do have a fedora and some two-tone Oxfords in the closet somewhere.”

              She sees him then, gray hat shadowing his face, pinstripe shirt with gold cufflinks, suspenders holding up his cuffed pants, black and white polished shoes skitting across the floorboards. Something inside her blooms. She smiles and the stretch across her face feels like an new act in her life.

“You look good as you are,” she says, trying not to linger on his broad chest.

              “Thank you,” he says, drawing out the words with uncertainty. Then he sits upright, runs a hand through his floppy bangs and grins. “You’re serious? You really want to dance?”

              Suddenly unsure, she rubs her thighs and swallows. She’s being irrational, she knows. She’s taking a chance, she knows. She’s putting herself out there, she knows. He’s not ready for this shed-skin Scully, this rebirthed version. “It’s okay,” she says, shaking her head. “Let’s get the check.”

              Outside, the air is damp and the residual smell of frying onions hangs all around. She’s noticed the slow return of her sense of smell and the aromas of life come at her with memories. A chilli-dog with mustard spooling down her shirt. Smoke from campfires with grit between her toes. Cologne on pillows. Ocean-fresh skin. The salt-sweet stickiness of the morning after.

___

Mulder cranes his neck back round, slows the car and turns it around. He looks across at her and holds her in a half-smile. She sees the neon sign, a golden pineapple with oversized verdigris spikes, flashing. The Tropica.

              Inside, it’s velvet-walled dark. It’s tactile. It’s pink smoke puffs and aqua light strips around ceiling high mirrors. The bartender is dancing shiny cocktail shakers in each hand. The low thrum from the speakers is pulsing some saxophone standard and Mulder pulls his credit card from his wallet and sets up a tab. It feels illicit, ensconced in a booth sipping strawberry daiquiris through green straws. After the first, she tucks the cerise cocktail umbrella behind her ear and makes Mulder grin. After the second, she tucks the umbrella behind his ear and makes him laugh.

              When her cancer struck fear into her bones in the early hours, when she saw nothing but a void in her future, when she trembled at the thought of Mulder going mad with bottled-up grief, she imagined how she would spend her last days on earth, had she been well enough. It wasn’t a midnight tryst in an underground club sharing lurid drinks and even more lurid tales about work colleagues. Somehow, she’d imagined pink sand and sun-baked skin, glimmering yachts and dolphin-diving. Fresh, salt-whipped winds snapping shade-sails overhead and mango juice sticking to her chin.

              But this, this electric thrall that presses around her, the gravity of life. It’s more than she could imagine. His fingers cover hers and he’s tapping with the beat of the drum. On the small stage, a woman in a purple sequin gown shimmies and belts out Nina Simone. He leans across, tipping over the glass in front of him, spilling pink ice onto the table. He ignores it and his jaw brushes her cheek as he whispers in her ear.

              “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Dana?”

              Hearing her name on his lips shoots heat through her veins. She is Dana tonight. She has worked off her debts, gripped life by the shoulders and shaken herself back into it. She is free. And when he presses his damp-shirted chest to hers nesting his face in the crook of her neck, it’s like she has stepped into one of her dreams.

              She never wants to wake.

[ayellowbirds]

After a brief hiatus due to a day in which i didn’t get any writing done, we’re on to the results of the ninth night of writing. 15,478 words so far! This one’s double-length, to make up for lost time.

i’m currently only able to work for 14 hours a week; donations to support this are welcome! Feel free to let me know when you’ve donated, I’ll see about including a tribute of some sort to you in the text of the story:

https://www.paypal.me/ayellowbirds

https://ko-fi.com/ayellowbirds

As always, keep track of the tag for updates!

(logo fonts are Bradley Gratis and Yiddishkeit Bold)

I really do appreciate everyone who reblogs or likes these posts. It’s been very encouraging to see this response, and i hope that i’m rewarding that interest with the kind of content you want to see!

Click the Read More to continue, or click here for the previous part, and here for the first part!

BACK TO THE PRESENT, WHICH IS COMPARATIVELY THE FUTURE

Belaset fully expected there to be heavy thumps against the door at her back as she held the door shut.

After all, there was a walking, evidently hungry dead person back there.

Also a very naked one, which was somehow much more unsettling than when she had been an inanimate body being loaded into a chest of solid ice. Belaset found herself wishing she had not kept to the habit of leaving behind the tachrichim. A little bit of linen, a little bit left to the imagination, and why was she thinking about the body’s state of dress when it was animated after being dead and rotting?

“I swear, Doc, this has never happened before,” she said, putting as much of herself against the door as possible.

There still hadn’t been any thumps, yet. But then, the corpse had let them leave the room in peace.

There were sounds of movement, though. Was it ransacking the room for weapons? Another way out?

“I don’t imagine that it has,” Menax replied. He was rooting around in a closet, and when he came out, he was carrying—a book?

“No offense intended, and I’m sure you know more than me about this kind of thing,” Belaset said, taking note of scratching sounds from the other side of the door, “but I have to figure that throwing a book at it won’t stop this thing.”

“I wasn’t counting on that, but who knows,” Menax replied, flipping pages and tracing his finger over the text. “We cannot resolve this situation without understanding what we are facing, and simply throwing everything in the kitchen at it will teach us nothing, especially as she appears to be cognizant.”

Belaset felt her eyes narrow at that, which had the added effect of bringing the book in the doctor’s hands into clearer focus. Unlike all the medical texts and broadsheets in the Stafroph, this had something on the cover in the Aleftav, the ancient alphabet of the people of the land.

Whether Belaset counted as a person of the land—perhaps ironically, as being a half-giant seemingly born out of the environment itself meant she was literally of the land—had come down to one thing, when she had first met her kohenet, and it had been decisive. For although she was wholly and stubbornly illiterate when it came to Icarian writing until recently, she could read the Aleftav with fluent comprehension without even realizing when she was reading something written in a language she did not speak.

Pára Djanim, written by hand on a plain white cover. To My Soul.

Menax’s hand was moving faster over the pages, mumbling words to himself. His eyes seemed about to bulge out of their sockets.

“What is—” Belaset began, and then felt a thump at her back.

“My family was from Ocoiti,” Menax said, mumbling something under his breath before continuing, “and I remembered my nona would always tell my nono stories about her adventures. When she traveled as a girl, she wrote in this book, for him to read when she returned, because his illness kept him from going with her—ah! Here!”

Another thump, and then another. Wait, was it a thump, or a knock?

Menax came over, showing Belaset some pages on which an old-fashioned cursive hand was matched with… well, fairly amateurish illustrations. This one showed a, well. Belaset supposed it was a hand? Sticking out of the ground? There was a square next to it, with some little circles on top, and Z’’L written on it. A grave, she guessed.

“In her travels, she met cousins who told stories about the powers from the old country, in the Original Land,” he explained, while Belaset felt something pushing under the door. Could a corpse kill you by poking you with its finger? She didn’t ask out loud, as Menax continued, “they told stories about sorcerers who would enslave you not only in life, but in death, and about heroes who rose after dying, again and again. The Icosans tried to learn this magic, but the gods denied it to them, because they did not recognize Icarian authority, and the Icarian god kept that power for their Emperor alone.”

Something rustled against Belast’s hand, which had been planted on the floor. A leaf? A dead, dry finger? She felt it slip into her grasp. Was it paper?

“The Icarians who tried to take this power,” Menax continued, now going into full lecture mode as if making a presentation to a classroom instead of standing in his kitchen while the living dead tried to escape his private study, “found themselves cursed by it, and became evil spirits, haints of the body instead of the soul. Nona said that the old word, the Original word, was ‘jumbee’. But Icosans being Icosans, they changed the pronunciation; it came to be that, when a dead person got up and walked around like that, they called it a ‘zombie’.”

Belaset lifted her hand up, and looked in her palm. A crumpled sheet of paper. On it, written in both Aleftav and Stafroph in a hurried fashion, were the words, “please, need food. Very confused”. She handed it to Menax, who looked at it, and nodded as though that had answered all his questions.

He walked back over to the cutting board, clapping the book shut. “I think that we have something like that, here. Some warping of magic of resurrection—that is why the body did not move until now, something delayed it and the, ah, ‘zombie’ rose in a flawed, partial manner.”

He returned with a wooden plate loaded with the remaining ananas rings.

In his other hand, was a tin salt shaker.

“I would like to offer our guest some hospitality,” he said, passing the shaker to Belaset. “If things do not go as planned, could you see about getting some of this into her mouth? Nona Simera found that the taste of pure salt should at least temporarily paralyze them.”

He then indicated the door.

“If you please?”

Belaset took a deep breath, and rose to her feet. Or rather, she shuffled forward so that she was kneeling in a way that did not block the door, not feeling like trying to stand up in the small space of Menax’s house. She would be the first to admit that she had no idea how it was she fit indoors in the first place, but she always felt claustrophobic trying to stand up straight when she did.

The salt shaker felt like a shot for a sling in her hand, the weight reassuring her. And if worse came to worst, she wasn’t exactly defenseless.

She’d heard of other half-giants, even met one once, when she went to the city. Where her body had unusually large legs compared to the rest of her, others seemed to be similarly disproportionate. She’d met that one whose hair grew to a volume several times that of the rest of his own body regardless of how it was cut. And she’d heard tell of a woman with great and curling talons in place of fingernails, and a boy with ears so large he could shelter a minyan under them. In general, other half-giants used these traits to achieve remarkable deeds.

So, Belaset had a lot of confidence in her ability to kick anything in existence out of her way.

She just wasn’t sure that she could do it without kicking down the walls of Menax’s house.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

“For this assignment, the four of you will be adopting identities that insert you into the popular culture of young people near the suburban campuses of the Imperial University at Palse Rjat,” Lieutenant Yslireb explained, reading from the official papers. “We have reason to suspect that anarchist cells have been using the entertainment venues of the student population as a base for recruitment, including the theatre near Fishtaykh, and the restaurants and coffeehouses there and in Mutneberg.”

He continued describing details of the area in a steady drone as V. looked through the supplies she had been given for the assignment—a disguise, personal effects for the new identity, and notes that she would be expected to memorize and destroy.

N. leaned over to look at her box, having already spread her own over the entirety of her personal space in their dormitory, from the top of her bunk to the surrounding floor. B. was taking pains not to step on any of it as she walked past to hand J. his own box, hefting the crate with ease that J. could not match. From his spot at the door to the “boys” bedroom, he suddenly doubled over trying to hold up the wooden box in the same one-handed manner his teammate had, before switching to both hands.

None of them had offered an explanation to Yslireb as to why V. had been in the girls’ room when he had arrived at that late hour with the details of their next mission, and the Lieutenant had no pressed the matter beyond a quirk of his upper lip that threatened to turn into a sneer.

That sneer manifested fully, now, as he read aloud the details of V.’s role.

“In light of the recent exemplary performance of V.” he said, giving the animal surname that V. could not abide, “in infiltrating the subversive culture at the Institute of Alienism by posing as a young man with profound sexual dysfunctions, the administration of the Corpse deems that he….”

V. tuned out most of Yslireb’s attempts to get a rise out of her. She’d found the mission at the Institute to be a good opportunity to explore herself and learn about new trends in the studies of sexuality and gender—and then direct the imperial forces to make arrests and seizures that didn’t target the people and information she had left out of her official reports. And while she’d kept quite a lot from her teammates, she’d also started to open up more about things she’d been feeling for longer than she could properly express them.

It felt good to get some of it off her chest, regardless of what Yslireb and those like him might think. Besides, her status as one of the Corpse kept rising with each new mission, and the officials trusted her with more and more vital intelligence. She hadn’t yet had an opportunity to ask, but she’ probably soon be within the top three. If not the Crown or the Brain, at least the Right Eye.

And once she got to the top, she’d have the status to be able to pick and choose missions, and maybe even retire to a peaceful life that left all of this behind, after a while. After all, hadn’t S. been able to even backtalk the instructors, ever since they first announced the rankings? And then he was given the ignominious surname of “Sherets”—a crawling, wriggling thing. His emblem was a worm. He might even have dropped down to the bottom five for all his attitude.

No, she’d been playing it smart. Not too eager to please so as to not invite too much responsibility, but enough to be seen as reliable. And she’d learned from all those incidents in her tween and teen years—learned the lesson the Captain had subtly tried to teach, that the key isn’t to not break the rules at all, but to not get caught. After all, the whole point of the Corpse was stealth and subterfuge, to protect the Empire’s interests by means of covert activity.

And now she was being assigned to take on a role that was so near to her true self, the deceit was that she was being deceitful about it in the first place.

Well, as long as nobody listened to Yslireb.

NOW—FOR A MOMENT, IF YOU PLEASE

She slipped the paper under the doorway, silently hoping this would work. She still didn’t understand what had happened, but she’d seen her reflection for a moment in a window, and since then had avoided rising up high enough for that.

She looked like she’d been dead for at least a day, if not longer. And her face and throat were damaged beyond what a living person could—

—A face she’d trusted, that had trusted her, screams of betrayal. Eyes turning dark, hair going white, face growing long. Disappearing into the woods, something shining in her teeth. She’d escaped, but—

—how had she gotten here, in this condition? What had happened to her retrieval by her rowmates, or, barring that, by another row in the Corpse? And her body was entirely naked. Everything was gone, including her emblem. But where had it—

—A face she knew, in the crowd. Someone she couldn’t stand. A few words whispered. A finger pointing, a cry of protest ignored. The ground, too cold and too hot beneath her. Light gone quickly, and then, in the silence, boots. A familiar voice, a hand reaching into her blouse, searching for something.

The thing that kept the magic that brought her back to life every time she had died, before.

She could make all kinds of guesses based on her education in magical theory and practice, about the long exposure of her body to the emblem and the repeated action of resurrection leaving some kind of partial impression of the magic on her body. It must have caused some kind of delayed half-resurrection, leaving her in this incomplete, decayed form.

She didn’t feel pain anymore, not since the initial shock, except as a dull full-body ache far less severe than things she had been trained to tolerate. Even the knife still stuck in her left hand was more noticeable just as a _pressure._ Far more noticeable, far less tolerable, was the horrible feeling of total emptiness. She had been hungry, thirsty, starving before. She’d died of dehydration that one time. But she’d never felt it nearly this bad, and it took all her self-control to not start chewing off bits of herself, or pieces of furniture.

She wasn’t sure if the process of decay had been arrested, but she hoped so. At the very least, her eyes seemed to be working at normal function, in spite of the horrible cloudy yellow color she had seen in the glass for a moment.

If she extended her awareness enough, trying to put herself out of the physical feelings and focus on the spiritual, she could feel a magical substance—something otherwise invisible and intangible—suffusing her body, concentrated on places where she ought not to have had any function. If she could have drawn a picture of it in that moment, there would have been a bright glow around each major muscle, and even more so at her throat and eyes, and then again in the pit of her stomach.

The pit, again.

ONCE MORE, A FEW MONTHS AGO

“What do you mean by that?” Yslireb asked, his usual distasteful expression replaced by something more confused.

He’d arrived at the pre-mission check-up to repeat more of the same needless things that he had already insisted on saying when he first delivered the assignment. As Eciurtal checked V.’s height and weight, she’d let slip some minor comment about wondering what her ranking was after all this time.

“Well, after the first announcement,” she said, looking at the way the scales bobbed while her weight shifted ever so slightly from one foot to the other, “I figured we’d have been told how we were doing, over the years.”

Silence.

That was not a good sign.

“You mean, you thought that—” Yslireb sounded like he was choking on his own tongue, “—after more than a decade! You’re asking now?”

As he lapsed into something halfway between hysterics and a coughing fit, V. very carefully turned to look at Eciurtal. The Chief Nurse had always been very sympathetic to them. Perhaps because she related to the unknowable ancestry of the orphan children of the Corpse. Now, her expression was almost heartbreakingly cold. A touch of pity, yes, but so steeled it was hard to find it there.

“The ranking is, it was,” she began, and then looked to Yslireb.

He managed to right himself, spittle hanging from his chin. “It’s _static,_ you idiot! His Imperial Majesty decided it one time, for the rest of your lives! It doesn’t change just because you do better!”

The world seemed to quiet around her, even Yslireb’s voice as he said something about the rankings being based on the Emperor’s impressions of them as children. That the time and attention he needed to devote to running a global empire wasn’t to be wasted on….

Well, she didn’t hear the rest, because for some reason, she was walking out of the medical wing. Yslireb was yelling something after her, interrupted by those cough-laughs. Eciurtal was saying something, too.

V. didn’t hear any of it, though.

All she could hear was a voice from many years before, telling her, “number four, the Pit of the Body, the Source of Vitality,” before moving on to the next child.

[regencyhomeremodeling1]

Bathroom Remodel Palatine

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Master Bath Remodel Palatine, IL

September 27, 2022 /in Bathroom Remodels , Palatine, IL , /by Bruce Pinsler

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Project Overview

The Subject Property

Bathroom Remodel Palatine

This Palatine homeowner simply wanted an updated look for this blah bathroom/closet combination. Regency Home Remodeling knew that with help from top-tier suppliers Daltile, Wayfair and Chicago Designer Closets, this bathroom would become a beautiful, organized haven, and the results proved them right!

Regency began by creating an impressive entrance to the bathroom by installing elegant new French doors. Next, the addition of pocket doors leading to the shower room and closet immediately created more space, and the 60” vanity from Wayfair extended the high-end atmosphere. Daltile’s stunning 8” Hex Brilliant White floor tile starts the hexagon shape that is carried into the shower with a floor of Hexagon Mosaic Arctic White tile. The shower threshold and bench are accented by the OQ27 Jasmine White quartz, while 3” x 12” Picket Arctic White tile lines the shower and vanity walls. The shower becomes a spa with the addition of the 5-setting Mount multi-function handheld shower head and the Stryke shower faucet, both with H20kinetic Technology from Wayfair. Regency’s own white shaker cabinets were configured into a handy linen closet in the shower room, but to deal with the disorganized mess of a main closet, Regency called in Chicago Designer Closets, who created a total custom overhaul that utilized every bit of space and now works for the homeowner. The new bathroom and closet are everything the owner envisioned and more. Just one more Regency success story!

With expert installers, clever designers, and the best suppliers, Regency Home Remodeling can make your design dreams come true, for a home that truly reflects your taste and style, and all within your budget. Give them a call today. You’ll be glad you did.

Need a Bathroom Remodel? If you want to remodel your bathroom in Palatine, and want to know how these homeowners saved on their finishes with our Factory-direct program, then contact us at 1 (773) 930-4465.

Map

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The post Bathroom Remodel Palatine appeared first on Regency Home Remodeling.

from Regency Home Remodeling https://regencyhomeremodeling.com/bathrooms/1244-e-cooper-dr-palatine-il-60074/

[windroseyrachael-blog]

Our First Look!

This house is so cute! I love the brick, and the green roof, but could live without that bay-window blocking half the patio.  Oh and lets not forget that Sunray of siding…Yeah, I could live without that too.

Welcome Home! Its so Dark.  And that Texture! it is on every wall and ceiling. And it is all coming down!  Except that wainscot, lets keep that.  

What saddens me most, is what they did to this fireplace.  There is a terrible glaze over the brick, and I can’t wait to make this a beautiful feature again!  Kootos on the light fixture in the dining room, I’ll be re-using that!

I do love all the Natural light though! Why is that coat closet so far away from the entry?  Lets fix that too.

I think they were going for an open concept upgrade, but I think we can do better.  

So I actually really love shaker style cabinets.  So I am hoping we can reuse them.  See that tape measure I’m holding :-)  I could do without that dropped ceiling, and the peel and stick veneer backslash. 

Yep That’s the Master.  It needs a little work…

Hey Guys, did you know  this could be considered a walk in closet?  I think we will have to fix that.

Every good master needs a pointless vanity with a bunch of wasted space and an off center toilet.  And that cavernous shower.  Wait, Where is my TUB?!

So the upstairs needs some work, but look at all that light!  Also, So clever to install a flush linen cabinet over the fireplace below! Awesome way to recapture some wasted space! 

This room has amazing light and is larger than the master! But behind that door is a tragic closet that will need some work.

Well I don’t love that A/C access, but maybe if we get some closet doors, it wont be so bad.

Wait, is that another A/C unit?  Yikes, please tell me we can move that.

So is this a glorified hallway or a Bedroom?  There is another doorway not shown! Where is the closet?  Why is there a linen cabinet in here?

Ok I think that Vanity is a bit excessive for how small the rest of the bath is.  Love the Window though!

This will be such a cool bonus space, once we decide what to do with it!

This is what its all about, our 2 acres of paradise right inside the metroplex. Yep that’s a barn!  Well, for now.  It will probably be Mike’s awesome shop someday, but we have a lot of house to address first!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Bargain real estate- this charming 4 bdrm. 2 bath 1920 Bungalow in Iron River, Michigan listed for $42,900. I guess you could call it a fixer-upper, but it’s certainly livable. Check out how nice it is.

At this price point, you wouldn’t normally get perfect coffered ceilings, wood floors, and wainscoting. Plus the rooms are huge.

I would want to see what’s under the paneling on this fireplace. 

You can’t beat these built-ins.

Love the sun porch.

The kitchen’s gigantic and it already has perfectly good shaker cabinets. Charming.

All 4 bedrooms really don’t need much and look recently painted.

Walk-in closet.

This walk-in linen closet on the 2nd fl. is unique.

Vintage fixtures. Love the floor tile.

Basement’s not creepy.

Plus a nice yard, small deck on the back, and huge garage. So much charm for $42,900. 

https://oldhousesunder50k.com/69894-2/

[zimmerglimerealestate]

Just listed in Birmingham! City living at its finest in this 2001 custom built colonial! Walkable to downtown Birmingham. Fantastic condo alternative. Entry foyer with closet. Kitchen with stainless appliances, granite and shaker style cabinets, informal dining area with coffee bar & additional cabinetry for storage, 2 wine/beverage refrigerators, pantry and doorwall to expansive stone and aggregate patio (and virtually maintenance-free fenced yard). Hardwoods throughout main level. Extensive crown molding throughout. Master suite with balcony (great for enjoying morning coffee!), walk-in-closet and private bath with granite counters and limestone floors, jetted spa tub, large shower and linen closet. Two additional upper bedrooms on 2nd floor. Upper full bath with tub/shower. 4th bedroom on 3rd floor could also be perfect for home office. Finished lower level with large family room and rec area, ½ bath, 2 lockable storage areas, and sump pump. Lutron lighting. 2 car garage with carriage lights. Wide front porch with pergola. Close to amenities, entertainment and dining of Birmingham. Rear Aggregate patio ~ 2015. Hardwood flooring and carpet on 2nd floor ~ 2014. Exterior painted ~ summer 2019. Great location and lovely curb appeal. • $539,000 • 4 beds • 2.2 baths • 2,434 sq. ft. • Custom built • Master suite with balcony • Finished lower level • 2 car garage • Close to the amenities, entertainment and dining of Birmingham! https://ift.tt/32R0TBb #birmingham #michigan #colonial #custombuilt #househunters #realestate #listedbyzimmerglime #hallandhunter #christiesinternationalrealestate #leadingrelocal @hallandhunter @zimmerglimerealestate — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/2VNicBm

[jodybouchard9]

No Closet? No Problem—Try an Armoire

iStock/GoodboyPictureCompany

Closet space is almost always in short supply. Some rooms in your home may lack a closet, while others may have closets that are too small or completely packed.

If this is a problem that plagues your house, we have a solution: Enter the armoire! An armoire (also called a wardrobe) is often an overlooked item in the home, but it can play so many roles and offer scads of storage space.

“Most armoires are conversation pieces, so bring one into your space and then build the rest of your room’s decor around it,” suggests Marty Basher, a designer and organization expert at Modular Closets.

An armoire is ideal in a studio apartment with limited closet space or a larger bedroom that needs a bit of flair. And it’s extremely versatile.

“You could use it as an entertainment center, a crafts area, or to store tools in it like a mini shed,” points out organization expert Julie Coraccio.

Read on for more on the armoire, including its history, how to use it, and which ones are right for your space.

A brief history of the armoire

This piece hails from France in the 17th century, though the name may have come from the Latin word armorium, which was a chest for storing armor, notes Lisa Zemenak of Lauter’s Fine Furniture.

The armoire came about out of pure need since old homes didn’t sport big closets in every room.

“There were chests, of course, for holding linens and blankets—and armoires filled the void by offering a place for hanging items, and they also typically had drawers,” shares Basher.

Photo by Cecilia Staniec 

Armoires have existed for centuries as multifaceted storage spaces, and most contain a rod for hanging items and drawers or cubbies—all of which makes this piece the perfect closet stand-in.

“You could also add a tension rod to create double hanging space, and a shoe storage unit can be included for footwear,” notes Basher.

Keep in mind that some modern armoires aren’t as deep as their older cousins, so hanging shirts may not be possible (pants should fit fine). And when you do pick a piece, keep safety in mind.

“Armoires should be attached to the wall as the doors tend to be heavy and the piece could tilt forward if a small child were to climb it,” warns Zemenak.

Photo by Houzz.com

Where to put an armoire

Try an armoire in your entryway for coats, umbrellas, hats, and shoes, suggests Basher.

Karen Gray-Plaisted of Design Solutions KGP has two armoires in her home.

“One is in the bedroom and was retrofitted with shelving so it’s basically a dresser, and the other is quite large and holds our TV, stereo system, and vinyl records,” she says.

Photo by Lisa Ferguson Interior Design 

How to find the best armoire for your space

Armoires are rather large, so don’t purchase one before making sure it’ll fit and you’re able to get it inside your home or apartment.

“Real antique armoires may be taller than some modern ceilings, and their size and weight can make them difficult to deliver up stairs, in elevators, and down narrow halls,” points out Beverly Solomon of the eponymous design firm.

And if you do remove shelves, make sure you don’t compromise the structural integrity. Also a no-no is overloading the shelves as they could cause the armoire to split apart.

Photo by Zinc Art + Interiors

Here’s more on the various types and sizes of armoires, and which one is best for you.

Keane armoire

Coraccio picks this piece and suggests taking out the two shelves if you need to hang something longer ($1,999, Crate&Barrel).

“The wood seems solid enough to hold hooks for scarves, and you still have the drawers for sweaters and jeans,” she adds.

This pick offers two drawers, two adjustable shelves, and two finishes.

Crate&Barrel

Shaker-style armoire

Loads of storage choices make this armoire a winner, and you can’t argue with the price ($650, Wayfair).

Some assembly is required but a tip-over restraint is included.

Wayfair

Merriton armoire

Basher feels this is the perfect, modern armoire ($1,038, Anthropologie).

“It’s smaller in scale, so it’s great for small rooms, kids’ bedrooms, or entryways, and the color and details allow it to work with almost any room color and other pieces of furniture,” he says.

Brass details and shiny lacquer make this a luxe choice.

Anthropologie

South shore armoire

“This one’s just all-around amazing because of the ample storage, great colors, clean lines, and it’s not too overbearing in size. Plus, the price ($327, Overstock) is unbeatable,” says Basher.

This well-priced pick comes in four colors.

Overstock

The post No Closet? No Problem—Try an Armoire appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

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