old wood stove

anonymous asked:

hey! i was just thinking, that i've been listening to the songs harry requested on radio 1 and they've been stuck in my head for so long omg. and like, i'm not connecting the songs he requested to larry, but with each song a little scenario ab them plays in my head! was wondering if you could write little snippets based on a couple of the songs? sweetest devotion by adele and issues by julia michaels!

I got really carried away with this; I combined both of these songs and very subtly put a few of the lyrics into a mess of 3k. I hope this works for you xx

Louis watches the build up and break over a period of months. Years, even. Harry’s tired. They both are, but Harry’s exceptionally so. He’s been working nonstop on his album, his photography, himself, and now that he’s back in the limelight all day, everyday, it’s taking a serious toll. Louis doesn’t say anything or imply that Harry needs to slow down, but he wants to, just isn’t quite sure how. Harry’s been a little moodier, a little more on edge, and the whole time Louis is trying to figure out a way to approach the subject lightly, it seems that Harry has already given it just as much thought as Louis has, if not more.

“I think I wanna take some time off,” he says one night just before bed. He’s in the middle of changing his pants, tripping into them like he always does. “Like, hide, maybe?” The way he says it makes it sound like he’s asking for permission from Louis, just to make sure they’re currently at the same level.

Louis raises a brow from his position in bed and looks up, relieved, worried. “Yeah? Like go on an extended holiday?”

“Mmm, something like that.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Harry crawls into bed beside him, shirtless and shoulders pink from his sunburn. The weather was mild and about 10 degrees today - typical for January - but they spent the majority of the day outside, anyway, Harry lounging in the backyard, ignoring Louis’ request to venture out. Paps, he said simply, going back to shielding his eyes from the LA sun.

“I rented out a place in Maine,” he says, reaching for his reading glasses on the bedside table. He doesn’t really need them, but no matter how much Louis teases him about it, he continues to wear them, squinting without them. Dramatic. “I’m not even really sure where it is, but I know it’s right on a lake, it’s in the woods, it’s secluded, it’s…” He sighs. “Not here.”

Louis’ stomach tightens. “You trying to get away from me, Styles?”

“No, God no.” Harry shakes his head, curls finally grown back in and bouncing. “I’m trying to take a break from everything, but that doesn’t include you. You can come with me, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to. I know how much you love it here. And that you like writing here best.”

I love it here because you’re here. “I’m comin’ with,” he replies eventually.

“You want to?”

“Yes. You’re a bit strange for wanting to fuck off to the middle of nowhere but. I’m used to your weirdness by this point. No judgement here. I’ll come with.”

Harry smirks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose like Louis always does. Copy cat. “Good.”

“So, when’re we leaving?”

“Thursday morning.”

“Christ, you’re an impulsive lad, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Makes life interesting.”

Harry nods, reaching for the remote for the telly, then setting it back down. “I’m very happy. I really am. I just need a change, yeah?”

“It’s okay to, like, want to step back,” Louis says softly. “You don’t have to be grateful and positive every second of the day. Wanting to escape is probably the most normal thing I can think of.”

He’s quiet for a moment, probably thinking. He purses his lips when he looks at Louis. “Thank you.”


“And you’re gonna escape with me? Until you’re tired of me?”

Louis smiles, turning off his bedside light. “Absolutely.”

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The perfect gift 1/1

It’s just fluff.  It has no real plot and is a bit  lot fluffy.  Unremarkable house was even less remarkable when they first moved in.

He considered briefly whether to order flowers  to be delivered to the hospital but while some women might swoon at such a gesture, Scully had never been one to appreciate all the tried and tested cliches that he had used on other women in the past.

But then of course, never, by any stretch could Dana Scully ever be considered in the same category as his ‘other woman’ of times gone by.

He wanted to do something special, to show his appreciation for her in some kind of significant way, but despite them now being settled to some degree in this small, draughty house, he was aware always that a place to call their own it might be, but any less of a prison to him it certainly wasn’t.  To venture out in broad daylight to go gift shopping was akin to sticking a lurid sign above the door with ‘Here I am’ in flashing neon  letters.

Sure, he could gift order online, have some nice piece of jewellery delivered already wrapped and adorned with satin bows and stiff cardboard gift tag, but again, it was just all too insignificant a gesture and on this first meaningful event they would celebrate in this house together, he wanted it to be something tangible, something laden with thought and effort and…well, with love he supposed.

Because God knows he didn’t always show her how much she meant to him.

Eighteen months on the run together, living out of suitcases in shabby motel rooms, eating whatever grease laden shit happened to be on the menu at the time had taken a heavy toll.  Never staying for more than a few days anywhere as the sameness of their lives together gave way to a simmering resentment between both of them that he thinks, would have destroyed them completely if they hadn’t finally decided to just stop.  To hope that enough time had passed by so as to not be the priority to those intent on destroying them that they once were.

Skinner had found the house for them; Skinner had somehow pulled enough strings to have Scully’s felon status removed; and it was Skinner who had written her a glowing reference for the job she now held.  An internship which, would culminate in re-certification of her medical license and which would secure their financial futures in the years to come.  It was a debt of gratitude Mulder doubted could ever be paid but at the same time it came at a price, a feeling always of unworthiness, of failure, that suckerpunched him right in the gut everytime he allowed himself to think about it; because if it weren’t for her continuing allegiance to him, she would still be living a very different life and he was aware always that over the past two years or so, he had been able to offer absolutely nothing of any tangible value to make things better for her.

And that hurt.  A lot.

Not to mention the house, while a vast improvement on their accommodations previously, was of an age that might have made it affordable to them but which meant it left a great deal to be desired in terms of luxury and always, when he cast his eye over the mis-matched furniture and aged appliances, he couldn’t help but compare it to Scully’s beautiful apartment back in Georgetown - an apartment she walked away from without even a second of hesitation.  A home full of memories, of precious knick-knacks and beautiful antique furniture.  Of course the furniture in this house was also antique.  But not in a good way it was fair to say.

And it was cold.  It was always so fucking cold; not helped by the fact that they were living through one of the coldest winters for over half a century.  His Mother used to say it was too cold even to snow and until this year he hadn’t really understood what that meant.  But day after day as he woke up with Scully pressed tightly against him, only the top of her head exposed to the frigid temperature of the room, that was only barely held at bay by the layers of comforter and blankets they piled atop the bed, he couldn’t help but wish them back to the shabby motel rooms which, while infinitely less than perfect, at least had forced air and were usually warm.

He had considered suggesting they sleep downstairs, but really, it was only marginally warmer on the lower levels so instead they had just made the best of a bad situation.  Which, when he really thought about it, summed up the last ten years or so pretty well.

There was an old wood burning stove in the corner of the living room, but it was so rickety and rust riddled they just daren’t use it.  With no way of knowing how corroded the chimney lining was, to light a fire in there could be disastrous and to replace it had been added to the ever growing list of things he needed to do once Spring hit and the weather turned warmer, making it safer for him to get up on the roof and start to investigate properly.

But now, as he stood thoughtfully weighing up his birthday options, he realised that maybe, the answer to the perfect birthday gift for Scully had been staring him in the face all along and that given the fact that she seemed to be permanently only a degree or two above hypothermia, probably, the only fucking thing she wanted for her birthday was to be warm.  


As it turned out, the timing couldn’t have been better.  The four days preceding Scully’s birthday necessitated in her taking a trip into the city as part of an intern exchange programme and although she had offered to drive back each night, Mulder had managed to persuade her to check into a hotel and avoid a treacherous and ill-advised journey on the ice-covered roads.

He would be fine, he said, he had plenty to do to keep occupied.

Yeah. No shit.

The stove situation had proved a little more problematic than he first imagined and by the end of the first day he was freezing cold and ached all over from using muscles that he had forgotten he had. But, with the new stove set for delivery and installation in just 48 hours, he had no option but to just keep going because while he might not have experience in stove removal, he did at least understand that if old stove were still in place, new stove could not be fitted.  And after almost three days of cursing himself for ever getting started on this in the first place, the space in the living room where the stove had once stood, was now nothing more than a gaping hole which led to another smaller gaping hole which, if he angled his head just a little, he could see straight out of the roof to the stars which shone and twinkled in the winter sky.

And with a new access point for the frigid air to enter the house, the temperature within dipped to a hitherto unimagined low that no amount of layering seemed to alleviate and which took him to a whole other level of freezing.

But now, as he stood waiting for Scully to return home, her call coming just a few minutes ago that she was on her way, it all seemed suddenly worth the effort it had taken and he allowed himself to smile as he imagined her reaction.

Because in the corner of the room, it’s flickering interior casting a soft orange glow against the brand new sofa bed he had also ordered, the stove sat resplendent, radiating warmth around the small room where before there had only been cold, and this once tired interior with the moth eaten furniture was transformed, becoming a  welcoming haven to shield them both from the chill winds of life.

To become a home.

And home, whichever way you looked it, was a good place to be right now.


Just imagine, Len gets completely engrossed in his work and he forgets to do simple things like eat. But Mick, he loves to cook and has an old fashioned wood burning cook stove. And Mick is a great cook, there is fire and the whole experience is relaxing to him, he’ll ask Len if he’s hungry but Len just shrugs and says he’s busy. So over the years Mick cooks many different meals not knowing what Len likes. Some Len doesn’t eat, some he picks at a little, but then there is a handful that he scarfs down. 

It’s been two weeks and Len has eaten every meal Mick has cooked. And Mick is really proud, so he has a slight smile. Len looks up between writing something down for their next project and a bite of food. He frowns, Mick just doesn’t smile and look content a whole lot unless fire is involved. Len sets his pen and fork down, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mick is caught off guard, he didn’t think Len was paying attention to him watching him. But he doesn’t lie to his partner so he says, “It’s been two weeks and you’ve eaten every meal I’ve made.”

Now Len is really confused, “Have you been cooking for me?” Mick nods and Len in further confused, “I always thought you were making yourself food and had extra to share.”

Mick gives a rare genuine smile, “No, I just wanted to do something for you.”

“Thank you,” he picks up his plate for the first time and goes to the kitchen table that is never used, “Do you want to eat lunch with me?”

Mick nods and from there on out they eat their meals together.

Ok, I need more Cowboy!Steve and Bucky and Cowgirl!Darcy.

I need Steve and Bucky growing up together on a ranch out in Colorado. Going on adventures together when they were just boys. Skinning dipping in the creek on the far side of the ranch. Bucky waking up in nothing but his cowboy boots and hat in a horse trough, being found by Gran Rogers and beaten with her quilting bag for it while Steve laughed so hard he had to use the porch post to hold him up, at least until Gran turned the bag on him for being a disgrace alongside Buck.

I need Steve refusing to quit when Pa’s newest horse refused to be broken, and Bucky dragging him back in the house bloody and torn up and helping Mrs. Rogers clean and fix him up only to have to do it again in a couple of days time.

I need Steve fixing the barbed-wire, Bucky hauling hay, the both of them sweaty and straining as they chopped wood for the wood-stove old Gran refused to get rid of.

I need both of their Mas complaining about the old, rusty truck that Steve and Bucky bought and fixed up when they were sixteen and still sits out in the yard.

I need the two of them going out to the bar in town on Saturday nights and dancing with the local girls, Bucky having to haul Steve home before the cops came because Steve got into ANOTHER fight.

I need Bucky and Steve whining about looking a goddamned dude when Gran made them dress in their Sunday best for church.

I need Buck and Steve meeting Darcy one Sunday durning Dinner on the Ground.

I need Darcy having moved from New Mexico, buying her own land to start her own ranch.

I need Darcy becoming best friends with both Bucky and Steve, getting into trouble alongside of them.

I need Mrs. Rogers and Barnes and Gran trying to get one of the boys to marry Darcy.

I just need Cowboy!Steve and Bucky and Cowgirl!Darcy.


Back in 2010 a Parisian apartment on the Right Bank, near the Opéra Garnier, left unoccupied since 1942 was discovered.

It was owned by Madame de Florian – a socialite and an actress – who fled to the South of France during the second world war, leaving everything behind. She never came back to Paris but kept on paying her rent until the day she died when she was 91.

It’s only after she died that someone – a Commissaire Priseur – Auctioneer – re-enter her apartment for the first time in over 70 years.

“There was a smell of old dust,” said Olivier Choppin-Janvry who made the discovery. Walking under high wooden ceilings, past an old wood stove and stone sink in the kitchen, he spotted a stuffed ostrich and a Mickey Mouse toy dating from before the war.

Taxidermy pieces were commonly found throughout Mme de Florian’s apartment. It was common to have taxidermy in one’s home back in the day, in fact, having a few as home decor was a sign of affluence.

They also found a painting by Giovanni Boldini, the subject a beautiful Frenchwoman who turned out to be the artist’s former muse, la belle Madame de Florian herself.

The expert could not find any records of the painting, until they found a card with a scribbled love note from Boldini, the painting was sold for €2.1 million, a world record for the artist.

An Old Stove

My house is very old. Like pre-electricity and inside piping old. The old stove had been sitting there unused and covered in dust, so I cleaned it up and lit a fire inside. It still works fine, albeit quite rusty. I just need some firewood for winter now and it will be warming the house.


In LOVE with our old wood stove, just need to hook up the chimney…… which is taking forever to do…. but its pretty to look at, even if we cant use it right now.
Also, fell head over heels with the tin tiles, we got the 2X2 unfinished snap lock tiles and cant wait to get more.
They are a bit pricey, but worth the old tin look… and they reflect not only heat really well… but light too.
Still a work in progress but very excited to see how it all turns out.

anonymous asked:

'Who in your OTP asks the weird questions in the middle of the night and who hits the other in the face with a pillow' pretty pls

Things have changed in the days since they ran off into the night, the path ahead of them lit with the flickering flames they’d left behind. The fire of his past, burned up into nothing but smoke with the help of the slender blonde running breathlessly at his side.

There had been a lot of changes both within himself and between them, but there was one that to him was both the best change, and the most irritating one, all at the same time.

And that was how chatty Beth had become. 

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