#laundry room. which is coincidentally also in the basement!

[cammie]

every day i wake up and my mother accuses me of more insane things. i have got to move out

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

sorry but i think i lost your plot has to be peak literature because it's one of the only thing ive ever read from start to last update in under an hour

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 14

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,163

You get caught up in some hobbying.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, crafting, bead making

<Previous - Next>

Your relationship with the older vikings, men and women alike, as their sometimes delivery girl, sometimes shepard -though that was much less of a harrowing job now that the dragons were cool, and you were afforded the privilege of spend a lot less time hiding and running- sometimes portable laundromat and shiphand, afforded you certain knowledge that other people sometimes weren’t privy to, though Berk was an open floor for gossip.

Like how the twins were always looking down because their helmets were too shallow to balance themselves on their heads, which had the consequence of making it seem as if they were always up to something. Which, coincidentally, they were- Their mother complained about them a lot in between mentions of her husband and fawning over Stoick.

You learned how to cook some from Mrs. Ingerman, and you’d taught her a few words from your time period, which was nice. 

You’d had to do Snotlout's laundry and clean his room on more than one occasion, even had to pull it out of his basement room more than once, which you were thoroughly disgusted by. You’d learned a lot more about the guy from that experience than you’d ever wanted and had refused to take any of the Jorgensons’ laundry from then onward.

You’d even done things for Hiccup and for the Chief, mostly things he was unaccustomed to doing as he was too busy acting as the leader of the village and things Hiccup missed because he was too busy doing whatever he did out with the riders. You were sure Hiccup’d had no idea just the same as Snotlout. 

There were a few things you were certain to never bring up, including but not limited to a hastily drawn but very detailed sketch of your face shoved in a notebook tossed under his bed, not particularly helpful in terms of putting to rest the whole crush thing, or the small pail of screws he was sure to have brought back from the forge without his father’s blessing.

You were in denial a little bit, yeah. 

You should probably tell him. About the whole being in his room thing. But you wouldn’t. Definitely not.

It seemed, though, that despite this extra eye into the working world of Berk, you’d still ended up missing a few things.

Berk was… A community. You weren’t sure how you never realized that.

The Great Hall was filled with warm laughter, people patting each other on the back, men and women sharing stories about their kids and, often enough for you to take notice, Hiccup. It looked like raising him was a group effort.

Off in the corner were others at a table by shallow baskets which were shaped like oblong gold pans filled with fine powder and shells, men and women sitting along the side sorting dragon scales and grinding them down with flat stones and clearly chiseled pestels.

Dragons squealed and bobbed around your periphery, tossing and picking up what must’ve been colorful, neutral stones.

Large men and women and children hunched over the tables all over the hall, rearranged so that they were all closer to each other, parallel as they whittled away at things you couldn’t completely see, tables lined with leaves and the occasional plate.

It was well lit.

People filled the halls between tables with joyful conversation, playfully batted at each other and sat back. The whole space was bustling and also relaxing, somehow.

In the background was Ack arguing with some blonde woman, but even that was nice. You could tell he didn’t mean it and neither did she, shooting back just barely inaudible jabs with each other.

You were mindful of the basket in your arms full up with his laundry, just recently cleaned and aired out. 

You had stopped in your tracks at the sight, standing just before a short table placed perpendicular to the rest as if the lady sitting there was the guard to some booth or other. 

You looked down finally, noticing how she looked at you nearly eye level with a raised brow. She had plenty of wrinkles on her forehead, which told a lot about a life made by concern and stoicism. She also wore a large, very off white apron over a grayish vaguely beige long sleeve short and a long brown skirt, which you only just barely caught sight of as she lifted it up to wipe down something in her hand.

She had a shallow basket in front of her filled with what looked like beads and various strings, needles and small carving knives with wood shavings laid on the cloth-covered table around her.

“Hi,” You said, breaking the wall between the two of you. 

“...Hello, dear,” She responded, after a while, settling down her skirt and placing a colorful bead back into her basket. He picked up a needle instead, which you saw was already attached to a long string with beads all down the length. 

You wondered where they’d gotten the dye for it. Could dye even be used on glass? Was it glass?

Instead of asking those questions, you shuffled your feet.

You glanced at a white sleeve flopped over the side of the basket, which you held by a bar on the other side and pressed into your hip, “What’s going on?”

“Crafting is going on,” She said, plainly.

You nodded, “I like it.”

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see Vikings wandering around Berk, trying their hand at leatherworking and carving and other things. Now that they had the time, being assaulted a lot less by Dragons, the Berkians indulged their more artistic inclinations, exercising muscles for skills they’d never been able to before.

“I mean, this is great. What started it?” You asked.

You wanted to join in. It might be nice.

“Oh, you haven’t seen? The pride of Berk, walking around with his little bead like a bird,” She chortled fondly, “Did you see it? I wonder who gave it to him? Lucky girl. He has, dare I say it, started a trend.”

A bird? You quirked your lips up at what was most certainly an exaggeration. You hadn’t seen anything like that. You failed to mention that you’re the one who made it.

You wondered if Hiccup knew about any of this at all. You didn’t. 

“How do you know it was a girl?”

You turned. The spoken voice belonged to one of the women you’d see before in the Hall. She came over, done fussing with Ack in the background.

She was also blonde, a brighter, more yellow shade with a few less gray hairs. And she was large, also, with broad shoulders and a strong presence. Her arms were the largest between them. 

She wore tight trousers and a large though not long tunic. Her boots were plain leather and looked to be of the pirate variety. 

You pondered the idea that they might be related, or at least good friends.

“Look at him!” The first lady put down her needle, resting it in her shallow basket again, a glass bead falling down the string as she did, gesturing with her hand, though there was no Hiccup in sight, “He’s so happy! So proud! The small thing. He’s got too much energy for his little bones to handle.”

You thought he might be offended if he heard her say that.

“Oh, don’t be delusional,” The one with big arms huffed, “And don’t let him hear you say that.”

“But I’m right!”

“You’re wrong! He’s no myth, sweetheart. You can’t go around treating him like one of your little stories,” She shook her head, crossing her arms. 

“The Ragnar is real!” She insisted, staring down the Ack lady, meeting her eyes until the other woman rolled her own. You could tell it was a disagreement as old as time itself, but like with the other woman’s squabble with Ack, there was no malice in it, “Beowulf, too.”

They were just putting on a show.

You felt your lips stretch wider. It felt good to be a part of, even as a witness.

“Well, anyways, I’ve been thinking of making it a regular thing. You know, putting it on a schedule. Craft nights…”

You nodded excitedly, “It’s very modern.”

“Do you think so?” She asked, pleased.

“You don’t think we’ll have better things to be doing?”

“Our ancestors used to do it, can’t see why we can’t.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Oh, yes. Read a passage about it once, saw a note or something like in one of the dragon books. Glass beadmaking,” She looked up wistfully, pausing briefly in her rhythmic sewing, “I always wanted to try it… But we had no forge, no beads, no time, then, either. I was just a little girl. But now…!”

She picked something small but shiny out of the basket in her lap, ooh-ing to herself.

You were on the outside, kind of, though not on purpose. Everyone was welcoming enough, though they were much too busy fighting with the dragons to notice much or throw a party or anything. You were never excluded but you always had better things to do, too, so, well.

But this was here, and it seemed convenient. 

“Dear, come sit down,” She squealed slyly, voice both quick and dragging, face gleeful, which seemed out of place on her wide, bult frame and stern face.

“Okay,” You said, beaming.

You stuck mostly to the woodworking bead types. 

The image of glass beads shattering midair was frightening, though you were sure that none of the dragons around here could reach those speeds. Flying that fast might be dangerous for people too.

Most of your beads were probably going back to Hiccup anyways.

Of course, you had your own handful of small colorful semi-porcelain.

You tried a bunch of colors of all different types, and ended up with a handful of each. It was cool, to the super-so degree, and it was free. It seemed good will did a lot, and community bonding exercises were meant to be just that and nothing else. There was a line of Vikings, adults and children alike, ready to do their own part and bring things in anyhow. 

Many Vikings used ground up dragonhide to dye and waterproof beads and to mix in with melted glass in order to give it a pretty stain.

It was interesting, especially now that many Vikings were using Dragons in place of a kiln, and how they’d set up small buildings with bricks and some coal and used those too.

It was disastrous, at some moments. There were many burns, mostly small, that people went up to Gothi for, saying their goodbyes in bummed tones. 

Gothi must have had enough of it because she came down eventually to manage the glassmakers and smack the unfortunate.

It was… nice. 

The afternoon light was surprisingly nice on your face. It felt a lot nicer and your chest felt lighter, the world awash with things bright and endearing.

You looked forward with a winning smile at Hiccup.

“You liked the one I gave you, right?” You held out a handful of blue glass and wood beads to Hiccup, “They’re doing craft days in the Hall. I made some.”

You had a bunch of others in pouches around your belt.

You didn’t have anywhere to put them besides. You had no dragon to ride, so in time you might favor the glass ones. You had trouble with a few of them. The dragonhide did a great deal to make the glass more sticky when it heated up.

“You’re going to see a lot more people around with beads on.”

There were not enough leaves and pouches for all your sorted beads so they were sort of mixed, but you got a hold of a good few before it was time to clean up and you fled before anyone could notice. The hall would still be active for a while.

“You started a trend, I think,” You said, matter-of-factly.

It was impressive. Trends usually fell to the Chief, who recently had been trying to approach you though he always got carried away by tasks before he could. 

Hiccup had a sort of goofy smile on his face which consisted of a slightly upturned lip and the framing of his two largest front teeth which dropped as, as it looked like, he snapped back into himself, “What?”

“Yeah,” You said after you finished unloading the rest of his pouches into his arms and turned to walk away.

You looked around as you fled, making sure no one was watching.

He looked down like he wasn’t sure what to do with all of them, and also a little bit put off.

You wondered if you overdid it.

A small weight shifted by your ankle as you walked, the coins you’d slipped into a side pocket in your boot. You were going to ask around for some seeds.

[simchallah]

Mourning my dog. Writing out a detailed narrative helps me. CW below the read more for animal death, medical issues, and grief.

Two years ago schools shut down for the pandemic, and I was going out of my mind. We didn't know how long we'd be virtual. I promised myself that if school ended up being closed through the end of the school year, I would do two things: I would get a therapist, and I would get a dog. (I did both.)

We were not planning on getting a senior dog, and she definitely was. (Her age was suspect. First she was billed as 8, then 10, then it seemed she was more likely 11.) But when we learned that she had been in rescues and shelters for three years because no one wanted an older dog, we had to adopt her. Every dog deserves a loving home and family.

Right off the bat, two things became clear. First, that she was a loving, sweet, wonderful dog who wanted a family and knew right away that we were her people. She let us pet and cuddle her even when she avoided other strangers when we first picked her up. Despite being crate-trained and having comfy beds in other rooms, she spent her first night in a pile of my laundry on the floor of my bedroom, just to be near me. She was a nanny; she decided when it was time to go to bed, and made every effort to lead us there if we weren't listening. Once, when I was having a bad night, she led me to bed and led my sister to take her on her walk, even though it was my job. She spent her days going to work with me in my little set up in our basement, and I often cuddled her during classes.

Second, it became clear that she was much higher needs than her rescue had realized. She had a gash on her paw that wasn't healing properly. She had cataracts and lenticular sclerosis. She did not have "a little arthritis"- she could barely walk without an NSAID, but she had a sensitive stomach and every NSAID made her sick. She had cracked teeth and wasn't food motivated because of the pain. She had stitches from another operation (we think a tumor removal a year prior) that had never been taken out. The more care we gave her, the more was revealed. There was a point where she was bedridden and our vet had no idea what to do, and sent us off to a physical therapist. In our first visit with the physical therapist, she showed us an x-ray and said that she thought our dog had been hit by a car in the past. Her hip was completely out of its socket, in addition to the arthritis, ruptured tendon, and calcified tendon her body was also dealing with. She had almost no range of motion. We were told she was not a good candidate for surgery and this was the point where some people would consider euthanasia. We had only had her for three months.

I learned a lot about the world of what is available. Not just canine physical therapy, but also acupuncture, hydrotherapy, laser therapy, etc. We did all of it. Her physical therapy team got her happy and walking again. She loved physical therapy- she would walk around the little obstacle courses they set up for her just for fun, and she loved the cuddles and treats. The physical therapist upgraded her from an acute to a maintenance patient, with monthly instead of weekly visits, gave us exercises to do at home, and told us that she should be stable. If she continued to decline, it would be not due to her other musculoskeletal issues but rather a neurological condition, like doggy ALS.

She continued to decline over the past year. By last winter, she stopped going on walks. She needed help to stand up. She started stumbling more, standing with her feet folded under her, having more accidents around the house. In her last few days of life, she could not lie down without support. She had no muscle mass left. Coincidentally, Neil Gaiman recently made a post about his dog, and I recognized a lot of similarities. Most likely she had degenerative myelopathy, which is progressive and incurable, and would have eventually become paralyzed.

She was also losing appetite and weight. By her last weighing, she had lost 10 pounds. Her physical therapist gave us some medication to treat her nausea, which helped, but then last week she developed vomiting and difficulty breathing. She had a bad cough. We told each other it was probably organ failure, but we weren't really ready to hear that diagnosis. My sister brought her to the vet Friday, and I left work early to join when we heard the news.

She had heart failure. Her lungs were slowly filling with fluid, and if left untreated, she would eventually drown. They put her on oxygen to stabilize her. (I had thought her tongue was grayish when we brushed her teeth a couple of days prior. Turns out it was blue from lack of oxygen.) We brought home heart medication to try, adding to the list she was already on. It was a diuretic, and we were warned she would pee and drink more often. (She didn't. Whether because she was too unsteady on her feet to go drink water or because she didn't realize the need, she was dehydrated instead.) They also mentioned anemia and unusual thyroid hormones.

Saturday, they called to tell us her bloodwork indicated she had stage three kidney disease, aka moderate kidney failure, and the heart medication would accelerate her to end-stage, aka severe kidney failure. Her annual physical (hah) had been scheduled for Friday, but they wanted to see her earlier. While her respiration was normal, other problems persisted. She was still losing weight. Her mobility was still worsening. She alternated between lethargic and restless, unable to get comfortable.

On Tuesday, we gave our report, and our vet asked us if we thought it was time to say goodbye. Sobbing, we agreed that things were unlikely to get better, and we didn't want to wait until she was in extreme suffering. We wanted her to die with dignity and peace. She was relaxed and got lots of cuddles from both of us.

I love my dog, more than anything. It is physically painful not having her. My brain keeps expecting her to be around the corner. I catch myself having thoughts like, "I can't put that there, she'll trip on it." I don't want to clean, as silly as it may sound, because I know it will erase the traces of her around the house. I cry often.

Before the pandemic, I had no work/life balance. There would be days where I wouldn't come home until 6. My sister was working a different job in those days, and she was always home before me. Then, the pandemic, and when schools reopened I left work on time to come home to my baby. I have no frame of reference, no preparation to come home to an empty house. To be honest, I avoid spending time in my house alone, trying to be elsewhere or fill it with people. Otherwise the loss feels too great.

I am grateful we adopted our dog, and her memory is a blessing. But I am grieving and it hurts.

[bittermarrow]

Yoga Pants // (Thomas Hewitt x Reader NSFW)

@imconfused28 said:

Will you do a request of my man Thomas Hewitt seeing his girl in yoga pants for the first time? NSFW is always a plus! Thanks

A/n: This request is mm-mm good ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You’ve created a monster. I went a bit overboard and this ended up being 70% smut, but hey! In my defense, you did say “NSFW is always a plus!” so… I unknowingly proceeded in a disorderly and thirsty fashion because I don’t know when to hold back.

Warnings: NSFW as heck. Violence, i.e. you choking a bitch.

Words: 3700+

.   .   .

You weren’t really a big fan of snagging clothes off of victims, especially since you were allowed to pick up some with Luda Mae once a month now that the Hewitts trusted you. But you saw those expensive-as-hell yoga pants on that one girl Thomas was carrying down to the basement and snatched those fuckers like Black Friday came early. Of course, Thomas didn’t think much of it at the time, his one-track mind was set on cutting up the meat for dinner rather than worrying about a pair of pants.

You gave them a good wash with the rest of the laundry, managing to rid them of any and all gore stains before even considering wearing them.

You let the steaming hot stream of water run down your sides and wash away a good three day’s worth of grime after Charlie finally managed to fix the busted plumbing after a trespasser somehow screwed it up. You skimmed your fingers over the darkening bruises flowering over your stomach and lower back, the skin lightly battered and aching from the scrambling hands of some victim you’d ran into and had to fight to the ground to prevent them from escaping.

Coincidentally the guy turned out to be yoga pants' boyfriend.

You were proud to say that the guy looked a lot worse than you and that you had no doubt held the upper-hand throughout most of the fight, but he did land some good hits on you and his nails dug in pretty deep on your side. At the time the pain only pissed you off more and gave you the adrenaline spike you needed to pin him down, your hands squeezing firmly around his windpipe just enough to knock him out, restricting the airflow to his lungs and forcing out choked hasps from his pathetic throat. You’d strangled him into unconsciousness before Thomas even got to you, hearing the sounds of your struggling voice and thumps against the walls. But those nail-marks and bruises sure were stinging now.

You avoided mentioning your discomfort from the bruises to Thomas, who luckily hadn’t seen you without a shirt long enough to notice the marks since the occurrence just yesterday afternoon.

You shut off the tap and wrung your hair out before stepping out into the foggy-humid air of the bathroom, the water sliding down your legs dripped onto the shaggy rug underneath you as you dried off with a towel. You began getting dressed, pulling on a loose-fitting light T-shirt before pulling on those sleek yoga pants. You were surprised by how well they fit, it wasn’t often you found victims with clothes in your size. You hadn’t had the chance to wear pants like these since you lived back home, before all of this chaotic cannibalistic stuff. You missed being able to wear such figure-complimentary attire, being able to move and do your work while still looking good.

You dried your hair a bit more with the towel and ran a brush through the dampness of it before stalking out into the hall, already heading out back to help Luda hang up the laundry and start your morning chores like normal, but have to remind yourself that it’s Sunday. Sundays were pretty much ‘do absolutely nothing and lay around,’ days for the Hewitts, this was mainly because the game was on and this was the only lazy day anyone was allowed.

Well, laundry with Luda Mae was still a must, so you went about your morning hanging clothes up on the clothesline and making small talk with her. After a good twenty-thirty minutes of pinning sheets and whites while lighthearted joking amongst each other you both headed inside just as breakfast was getting put on the table.

Most of the family was already there when you two came in, talking about the first quarter of this morning’s game while passing around the syrup and butter. You sat down next to Thomas’s empty chair and glanced around the room for your gentle giant, but he was nowhere in sight. Odd, he was rarely the last to the table to any meal.

Luda Mae patted your shoulder to gather your attention, her too noticing the absence of her youngest son.

“Can ya go fetch Tommy for me? he might still be in the basement.”

.   .   .

You find Thomas in the basement as Luda had predicted, hunched over his work table sewing flimsy strips of flesh together with a large needle and thread. As you approached you could see that the new mask was nearly done, Thomas was hand-stitching the last touch-ups like he normally did after it became unnecessary to use his sewing machine. You couldn’t help but smile softly, having watched him do this countless times, but his gentleness while sewing these always reminded you of how careful he could be.

You walked up behind him, pressing yourself up against his back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hey, breakfast is ready, better come up before you give Mama an aneurysm.” You joke softly, hearing as well as feeling a rumbling chuckle reverberate beneath your fingertips tracing shapes on his chest. He set his work in progress aside and wiped his hands with a towel before reaching an arm back around you to pull you into his lap.

You snort and stifle a laugh as you shift around until you are facing him with your knees bracketing his waist, you lean forward into his chest and his bulky arms squeeze around you.

“I missed you too.” You mumble into his collarbone taking in his musky scent, nuzzling further into him. Thomas sighs into your hair and you want to forget about breakfast for a moment, content with just sitting here for a while. But your stomach does not agree with you one bit.

You swing a leg over his lap to sit sideways and try to pry his arms from around you.

“C’mon, let’s eat.” Thomas groans but reluctantly loosens his grip around you, allowing you to slide off his legs. He’s up after you and has one of your hands as you climb the stairs of the basement to the dining room, luckily in time to fill your plates before most of the breakfast was gone.

.   .   .

You feel Thomas’s hand on your leg through the entirety of the meal, not necessarily in a sexual way, just feeling. You figure he must have noticed your yoga pants and liked the material, and it didn’t bother you, so you let him.

After finishing up, Thomas’s hand didn’t stray from your hip as you headed upstairs to your room for your alone time, which usually consisted of you reading or talking to him as you snuggled up against each other on the floor or bed. You had expected him to trek back down to the basement to grab his mask and finish it upstairs with you, but he seemed adamant to stick by your side today, and you couldn’t complain.

But you also didn’t notice the way Thomas was looking at you, eyes fixed on your legs and hips in those pants. You hadn’t ever really worn anything like those around him before. And Sure, you’d worn much more revealing stuff to accommodate the heat, but something about the material and smallness of what you had on now drew his attention to your generous backside and wound his nerves tight. His face was heating up under the mask of dried flesh around his features. Thomas wasn’t really shy with staring anymore, especially since you’d mentioned on several occasions that you liked it, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he needed your permission to look at you like this.

You are just a few steps away from the now-closed bedroom door and mid-sentence when you feel Thomas’s large hand sliding away from your hip and down to your backside. You gasp and stop walking immediately, your face heating up before a smug grin crept up to your lips upon the realization that he might like those pants a little more than you thought.

You did have the whole day to yourselves, and it wasn’t often you got opportunities like these.

You attempt to smother a giggle in the back of your throat and turn around to face Thomas who appeared to have braced himself for your response, you may have sex often and he rarely has trouble initiating it, but he’s still a bit timid with these things. Afraid of making you uncomfortable or doing something wrong, you’re prepared to be-rid him of those feelings.

Your smile is innocent, warm, but your eyes are coy and deceiving. You catch a glimpse of Thomas’s Adam's apple shuddering under a gulp as he was backed up into a wall, with his consent, of course, otherwise moving him would be impossible. It was a sight to behold, someone two-three times your size at your mercy, it was almost funny.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” You ask in an accusatory and semi-authoritative tone, playful but firm. Thomas shrugs and avoids your eyes, you could almost see the splotches of red peeking out of the gaps in his mask. He was also beginning to sweat. “Eyes on me.” You reminded, and his dark brown eyes obeyed, flickering back up to yours.

“Naughty, you really like these don’t you?” You grab his hand and place it over one of your spandex-covered thighs, drawing out a runt and a small-but-eager nod. You grin and lean forward to press yourself fully against him, guiding both of his hand to your ass and clutching his biceps for something to hold onto. “Me too, I like how they feel.”

Thomas hums as if to agree, but it sounds distant because his attention has centered on the feeling of the soft cushions of flesh against his twitching palms. His fingers kneaded the softness of your ass and your eyelids fluttered at the feeling, you stretch your arms up as far as they can and stand on the tips of your toes in an attempt to reach up around his neck.

Thomas got the message and bend down to your height so you could loop your arms around the back of his head and pull him into an unhurried and passionate kiss. Your nose bumps into the rough dry leathery material of his mask distractingly, but you don't ask him to take it off, not yet.

It would take too much air, and you honestly quite liked the idea of him keeping it on while he fucked you. Just for a little while, it reminds you of a time where his mask was his face to you. It's as morbid as it is sexy to you because it's was what you became accustomed to. And sure, you adored his real face much more, but you didn't hate his fake one all that much either.

Thomas pulled you against him tighter, a growl forming deep in his throat and vibrating pleasantly against your lips as your stomach presses against his rapidly hardening erection. His meaty hands are already tugging at your shirt, and you almost let him strip it off, but instead, you push his insistent fingers away from your hemline and press one last chaste kiss on his soft lips and turn around.

You were not at all experienced in being “seductive” in this way, and you could feel your face burning up to dangerous levels as your blood settled behind your scarlet flushing cheeks. Surely Thomas is confused, and you are correct in your assumption, he even thinks you're going to walk away for a split second as you turn your back to him. But he is quickly proven wrong when you back up into him, bending over ever so slightly and press your ass right up against his crotch. Thomas breathes in sharply and you can feel him twitch against you, you try to focus on that instead of the absolutely obscene view you are giving him and can't help but grind backward onto him when you hear him start to pant.

You do not expect Thomas to move much, thinking he's practically paralyzed or unsure of how to recuperate. So when you hear him make an almost animalistic noise and feel him grab onto your hips in a bruising grip, you can't choke down the cry of surprise when one of his arms locks around your waist and crushes you against the solid shape of his chest. Your hands fly back to hold onto his forearms and you tug, he doesn't budge, and the display of his strength compared to yours sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine and a shot of arousal between your lightly trembling legs.

“Thomas, touch here.” Your voice penetrated the air like a pin in a silent room and cuts through his resistance as he recognizes your words as offered guidance, and you've discovered he likes being bossed around in the bedroom. For one, he likes pleasing you, secondly, he likes being told what you want him to do even if he knows very well what makes you squirm. He’s like moldable putty, you can shape him into whatever you desire, but Thomas just likes you to tell him exactly how to give you pleasure, especially in explicit terms.

In other words, Tommy was a sucker for pillow talk.

He lets you pet his hands away from your hip and waist and drag them up to your plush chest. Your huge man squeezes his hands over your breasts enthusiastically and buries his face into the back of your shoulder when you resume a steady grind against his throbbing cock through the seemingly too-thick-for-comfort layers of clothing. His hips buck involuntarily against your ass during a particularly hard thrust against him and the movement allows his bulge to wedge in between your cheeks and press against you in a way that makes you moan distractedly.

Gaining the confidence you needed from his quiet whimpers and groans into your neck and shoulder, you pull out of his reach once again. You lean over the edge of the bed and look over your shoulder at a frazzled Thomas, who is straight out staring at your ass and thighs— and most likely the wet spot where you've soaked through your panties and now started to seep through your yoga pants. You hadn't even noticed how wet grinding against him had made you, and by the look in his face, neither did he.

You wriggle your hips in his direction, encouraging him to come over without words. He scrambles over so fast it’s almost a little funny, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from potentially sending him mixed signals by laughing. After all, you find his enthusiasm incredibly sexy, And, who wouldn't want to bend over you after getting teased so much?

You feel him lean over you, his chest and stomach pressing up against your back, hairy arms caging you and his hips laying flat against your tempting behind. You groan into the sheets as his probably painful erection brushes against you once again, you decide to have mercy on both of your by reaching back and snapping and pulling on his zipper, you allow his cock to slip out of his pants. The moment his bare flesh brushing against your inner thigh you are pressed down deeper into the sheets, his hands curling around your wrists and holding them down to the mattress. You gasp and moan as he takes control over your movement and a flood of pleasure sparks between your legs as his cock slides in between your thighs.

You close your thighs around him so he is squeezed tighter against your core and the soft spandex covering your skin.

“Mhh, I want you to fuck my thighs, Baby, can you do that for me?” You squeeze out through rough pants, and you hear Thomas whine loudly against your shoulder blade.

The hulking man nods frantically against your shoulder and releases your hands to grab your subconsciously gyrating hips. The first few thrusts between the gap between your thighs are stuttering and unpracticed, you can tell he's still hesitant. You adjust the pressure around his member as he self-consciously ruts against your backside, hips clumsily bumping into yours as the new sensation of the stretchy material of your yoga pants against his hot, hardened flesh starts to overwhelm him.

After a few minutes of trial and error, and him accidentally slipping against you, you muster up the guts to start talking again once he’s gotten the hang of it.

“Feel- ah! Good? you're good right?” You ask a bit dizzily, not even sure if he made sense of your question. But once his cock starts dragging against you at just the right angle you're a mess of babbling praises.

“You feel- mmh, so good! That's perfect, ahh you're good, such a good boy— oh, god!”

The moment you start saying nice things and calling him pet names he’s melting above you, hips rutting faster and more desperately between your quivering thighs and his heavy panting picking up speed and grittyness. Thomas always responds strongly to praise, he thrives on feeling valued and once you start the wave of compliments it's hard to stop. Why would you want to? It makes him eager to please and makes him come faster, and you’re all for making him feel good.

Oh god, you're really close now, your walls are clenching around nothing and your thighs are twitching and stuttering around his girth uncontrollably as you approach orgasm. You need a bit more pressure, and a bit more direct stimulation to actually come but teetering on the edge is as pleasurable as it is torture. You want to slither and hand in between your legs to grind on your palm but you're absolutely boneless from the waist up. You're practically sobbing without actually crying into the sheets, you can't help but wonder how much longer Thomas is going to last with all this friction, he's always been on the sensitive side, how in the hell was he holding out for this long?

You sure hoped he wasn't trying to hold back his own release because of you, the faster he came the quicker you got to as well. Words of encouragement are streaming through muffled lips before you can stop them.

“Hah- yesss, please come, baby, I'm close, I can't- ah! It’s oh- okay! Please, come for me!” You practically wail, and Thomas whines and groans into your hair, he’s panting like a hound against your back, almost drooling under the intense waves of ecstasy buzzing through his entire nervous system. The sound of your sweet voice begging and urging him to finish sends him in a downward spiral and his dull fingernails dig crescents into your skin.

Thomas's mind flickers to a sudden thought, reminded of the significance of your own pleasure. He forced one hand away from your buckling hips and slides a thick hand beneath you and between your thighs to apply pressure to the general area of your clit through the tight-fitting pants to help you along. Your orgasm rips through you not a moment later, and your back arches under the overwhelming shots of drunken pleasure. You hips buck back into his and your thighs squeeze tightly around his slickened member repeatedly.

Thomas bellows out his pleasure and goes stiff, shoving himself against you and accidentally pushing you up the sheets a few inches. After a split second your giant man is moving again, rutting against you and groaning into the sheets and against your neck as he spills all over your inner thighs. Thomas has always been a heavy producer, and his cum drips heavily down your spandex-covered legs and into the thin sheets. Once his shuddering finally starts to calm his body relaxes, pressing you down into the suddenly overly-cozy bed sheets. You sigh dreamily and smile when Thomas mumbles something incoherent, sounding apologetic as he rolls off of you. You appreciate his cause to not crush you, but you're far from ready to be away from him.

You manage to get Thomas to scoot over so he's at least not half-way off the bed and curl up at his side as you recover just a bit longer. Your soaked yoga pants feel kind of gross after a while and you’re already overheating, so the next moment you are kicking them off and toeing them off the mattress. Your underwear is just as cum-soaked and not at all comfortable, so those go as well.

Thomas must have been getting too hot as well, because when you turn he is stripping away multiple layers as well. Either that or he’s about to roll you over and fuck you properly. You can't say you have a problem with that, on the contrary actually, you were counting on it.

You're overcome with a playful adrenaline rush and perform operation sneak attack by hopping over to his position sitting on the edge of the bed and drape yourself over his back. You're both giggling like teenagers as you smack kisses all over his ‘face’ from behind, gushing to him about how good he was and pulling him back in your arms to cuddle you. Thomas didn't require a whole lot of respite time before he could go another round, but you liked to relax a bit in between sessions when you had all this time to yourselves.

It isn't long before Thomas starts pulling you tighter against him, already starting to get hard again as your ‘conversation’ melted into gentle praise and things you’d only say to get him going. Using those bedroom-specific pet names that got him breathing heavy.

Your fingers curled around the neck of Thomas’s mask, and one of your legs swung over his hip, you hoisted yourself on top of his large mass. You started to tug at the dry, leathery material you certainly weren't in the mood for now that the kinkiest part of you has receded, and your softer, loving side starting to seep through. You wanted to look at his real face.

“Take this damn thing off.”

.   .   .

[heinrichstrasse]

Room in WG near Hardbrücke from 01.11.23

We (Alex - 34; Ilias - 33) are searching for someone to share our beautiful home with! We are looking for a young professional around our age who has lived in a shared flat before. The flat is located in the heart of the industrial district of Zurich.

Since Ilias will be traveling for 5 months starting in November, you will share the flat with Alex and our temporary flatmate Anika during this time. After Ilias returns, it will be Alex, Ilias, and you :) 

The room, the flat, the building

The room is 16m2, unfurnished, bright, and located on the lower floor of a duplex 5.5 room apartment that measures 180m2 in total. Alex and Ilias occupy the 2 other rooms and the 4th room is used as a guest room / laundry room. There is also a changing room with 9 door wardrobes (each of us has 3) and 2 bathrooms. You will have your own bathroom with a bathtub since Alex and Ilias share the other one.

The upper floor is a large area with an open kitchen & bar, living & dining area and a 12m2 balcony. There is also a room with a 3rd toilet, a laundry machine and a tumbler. The building has an approx. 500m2 roof terrace that is shared amongst the residents. The flat also has a small cellar in the basement of the building. Ilias’ and Alex’s room have access to a commonly shared yard that you can also access at any time. Lastly, Alex has a car that you can borrow if he doesn't need it. The rent of the room is 1148.- (we all pay the same rent) which includes heating and water bills. We pay Internet separately in an annual bill of 777.- (21.5 CHF /person/month). The deposit is 2x the monthly rent. We also ask for a downpayment of approximately 1′070.- CHF which is the depreciated value of all the furniture and equipment we have bought. You will get most of this money back when you move out (we apply a 20% annual depreciation to everything we bought and share). Ilias and Alex moved in during the summer of 2019. The flat was initially empty and was renovated by us. Since then we put a lot of effort into making it the warm and cozy home that it is today :)

About us

Alex and Ilias met each other coincidentally while they were both being interviewed for the 2 available rooms in the WG we currently live in. We have a really chill vibe going on in the flat as well as with our neighbors and often plan dinners, outdoor activities, partying and hopefully soon traveling together. In blue (and not so blue) days we often drill into deep discussions about life, the universe and everything.

Let us just depict the life in a normal day in our flat and if you believe you would be a good fit, don't hesitate to contact us.

Ilias wakes up around 7am and spends a couple hours in his room working out, meditating, doing yoga and preparing for the working day. He works as a software engineer from home almost every day and occasionally goes to Neuchatel for work. Around the same time Alex wakes up too and gets ready for work. He has also discovered the power of morning meditation and kicks off his day with a few quiet minutes. …At least that’s what he tries to do. Sometimes reality hits differently and the morning is introduced by some heated phone calls with his international colleagues. He works as a sourcing manager, also from home, with occasional business trips abroad.

Whenever either of us leaves the flat, we like to leave our room door open. It makes it easier knowing who's at home and who's not. We like our open door policy and when we close our doors it usually means "do not disturb". Every day either or both of us make sure our little jungle that we are very proud of is properly watered. At the end of the day you will find Alex working while listening to mellow electronic music encouraging him to finish his work day. Most probably you will find Ilias listening to some techno music and working on his laptop building his apps, reading a book or mixing electronic music on his newly bought DJ controller. We'll both cook (most of the time separately since Alex is intolerant of so many things) and enjoy the rest of the evening listening to music and working on our own things. Occasionally we might play a round of chess and drink some gin tonic together or grill.

During weekends when the weather is good Alex is always outside doing sports like mountain biking, wakeboarding or hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter. Ilias is definitely not as active as Alex, but also enjoys hikes, snowboarding and clubbing!

Anika is working in the engineering industry and usually spends the workdays in the office. She enjoys sports or cozy evenings at home but is always down for a party! Twice a month we book a cleaning service from Batmaid that takes care of the important things in the common areas. That of course doesn't mean that we don't clean common areas ourselves when needed ;) We are all tech-savvy, so we like to communicate over our WhatsApp group, share our bills over SplitWise and use a common calendar to inform each other when we have visitors or when we're on holidays.

Of course, as humans, we have our faults and we try to improve. Sometimes Alex is a grumpy cat after work and he needs his space. Ilias might annoy everyone with his techno bass, but he’ll listen once you tell him to put the volume down or wear headphones :) So, if you are interested, please send us an email at such.wg.much.cool@gmail.com and tell us a few things about yourself. We will get back to you when we can to arrange a visit!

[anything-advice-blog]

I need someone else’s honest opinion.

My name is Bird, something happened, or someone happened to me 35 days ago. It’s over I just need to know what the hell was going on in this situation, did I get played or was it something else. I need an outsider’s opinion….. So it all started at the beginning of spring, I was 18 at this time, and I was taking a gap year. I had a boyfriend that I was living with in Washington State, but we didn’t work out, so I ended back home in Texas. Then I got a job as a camp counselor in Kentucky, I left home once again, and that’s when I met her. She was my manager I’m going to call her Red, I remember looking at her for the first time, and I was smitten like a kitten. But Red had a long-distance “girlfriend” (her lover came to visit the first two weeks I worked there.), so for the first two months, we barely spoke. I always heard her rant about her “girlfriend” issues to my other co-workers, it made rather uncomfortable honestly…. Then one night a massive storm broke out, we had to send the children to their bunkhouses without dinner. And coincidentally, it was only Red and me working that night. So we had to bring snacks for the children from the kitchen, and we got to talking. I shared with her that my friends were pressuring me to call my ex-girlfriend, and when I told her this, she looked surprised.(She didn’t know I was bi) Then she started smiling like an idiot; then she asked me if called my ex or not. We continued to talk once we got in the van, then the next morning she didn’t talk to me. It was like it never happened, then when lunchtime rolled around. She was talking to my other co-workers, I was out of it because I was thinking about the other night. Then I looked at her to see her staring at me, and then I turned away because I’m shy. Then another day passes, and it’s the end of the work day. She’s in her car, and I’m outside waiting for a delivery I noticed her sitting in her car watching me. And once again I turned away feeling shy, then we all went a work camping trip for scouting. At one point I was just standing in the sun, and she was standing there watching me and then I just walked away. For the rest of the trip, we don’t speak much or at all, then when my team was driving back. I was “sleeping” when I opened my eyes to see her watching me through the rearview mirror and then she quickly stopped after we made eye contact (That time I didn’t turn away). Then Monday happened, her and girlfriend broke up…. I know because she was telling all of us about it, then she went away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks. I didn’t think I was going to be able to see her again because that was just a seasonal job for me and time was running out. Then she came back, and I didn’t want to see her because something happened to me at work and I knew she was going have to talk to me about it. (It was professional, not personal.) I heard that she was going on another business trip for a week, so I thought I wasn’t going to see her. But I was wrong; Forgot to mention that I lived on site and so I was down in the basement doing my laundry. That’s when I saw her, coming out of the laundry room. She gave me a major fright I screamed tremendously; she did as well. Then we went our separate ways, then the next day and once again I didn’t think I was going to see her because she had to do paperwork for all her business trips and then she was going to leave again. I was in charge of the kitchen set up that morning, and she came down to my surprise. She said, “ Good Morning Bird.” I nodded at her and then she said, “Sorry, I scared you last night Bird. The reason I was in the basement was that I was trying to get a sleeping bag for my next trip. You scared me too.” She was smiling the entire time; then she went back up to the office. She tried to play it off like I wasn’t the reason she came down from the office and after spoke to me she left. (I told myself it was nothing to be excited over.) Then we ran into each other again, and I said, “Sorry, for scaring you.” She replied, “It wasn’t your fault, I just felt bad because I didn’t say anything.” About an hour later I ran into her again, and I tripped on air, but of course, she’s standing over me. Giving me this look, and I said. “Don’t look at me like that Red.” I said in mocking way; then she replied sarcastically “Like what?” I said, “Like what’s her problem.” Then we both laughed, and she said: “See ya later.” To my surprise she came back earlier than she was supposed to, I didn’t get to see her the night she came though. Then the next day we were doing inventory, and I was separate from everyone else because I had to do the art room (because I’m an art teacher), everyone else was in the same room doing inventory together. After I had finished, I went to see how everyone else was doing; she was the only one in the chamber now. I said, “How’s everyone doing?” “Good, we’re just closing up shop.” She said while looking down then added. “And how are you doing?” then I said “Good!” Then still looking down she smiled widely and laughed then I left. Then the next night, I was all alone in the apartment I was singing and dancing. Then that’s when I see Red, a girl I didn’t know and my co-work who’s her best friend. When I saw them I freaked the hell out; I fell and then when I realized who those people were I felt embarrassed and tried to hide behind a chair. Then when I got up, I started to smile, and I just wanted to go into my room. But Red wasn’t going to let that happen; she said: “Are you good?” I said, “Yeah,” then she replied with, “You sure?” she was saying this in a very mocking and teasing kind of way. When I came out of my room, they were just leaving, and my co-worker asked me,”What are you doing.” Before I could answer, Red said, “Singing?” yet again teasing the crap out of me. Then shortly after that, they left, then came back later with even more friends. This time I was laying on the couch, they showed their friends around the apartment. Then they turned their attention to me before anything was said, Red and I had the moment where we just looked at each other and neither us looked away, then Red asked me. “What are you doing for rest of the night.” She said, “ Watching makeup videos.” I said, “What kind of makeup videos are you watching?” I explained to her what I was looking at, even though I’m pretty sure she didn’t know what the hell I was talking about after that they left. Then the two days later, she didn’t acknowledge me and then we had this weird moment. I was going to lay on the couch in the lounge area at work, then I saw her coming out of the office, and when I looked at her she stopped dead in her tracks then she tried to hide behind the door while still not taking her eyes off of me. Then I just rolled my eyes and laid down because I was annoyed that she was ignoring me that day. Then I told my best friend about it; she said, “You should try to talk to her tomorrow. Because the reason she’s not talking to you is that you’re not talking to her.” So I took my besties advice the next morning, I said to Red “Good morning” then I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Then when me and my co - workers were eating breakfast, she was giving me a strange look like ”What’s her deal?” Then when I was cleaning up breakfast, (I’m in charge of breakfast set up). She joined me in the back of the kitchen and saw me dumping out all of the food. And she said “Gross” the reason I’m bringing this up is because I say “gross” a lot, so she was mocking me she even tried to imitate my voice. Then we both laughed, and after that, she left. Then around lunchtime, I saw her coming out of the office, and I said, “Hi Red!” She just waved at me and gave me a small smile then started talking to someone else. After she had finished her conversation, she turned to me and just smiled at me. Didn’t say anything, then she went back into the office. Then lunch happened, and I heard her talking about how she had a crush on someone, and I knew she wasn’t talking about me because I knew who she was talking about. When I heard her say that, it hurt like a bitch I was so shocked. Then a little later, I was in the kitchen with one of my male friends I’m going to call him Rich. I was making fun of something he said when I saw Red staring at us and we made eye contact for little while then I turned away. So later that day, I was doing inventory with my team when Red came down to see how we were doing. I don’t know if it was just me or what, but it was so awkward between us. I was trying to be nice to her, but it seemed as if she couldn’t look at me. We gathered in a circle and began talking, one of my friends started to tell a story about him and me working together. She looked at me, then quickly turned away afterward and began to frown. So after work was finished, Rich and I were talking I ended up blurting out that I had crush on Red. He looked crushed because me and him were very close and we almost did everything together, but I didn’t realize that he had those feelings for me until that moment. Which made me even more upset, because when I’m hurt the last thing I wanna do is hurt someone else. Then a couple of days passed, I tried to avoid her at all costs because I didn’t want to see her after everything. Then when I return to work, I checked her Instagram that’s when I see her, and her girlfriend was back together. I cried like a baby after saw that, then she starts to act friendly with me again. Like a moment when she was friendly, she came down for breakfast, our eyes met at the same time, and we both didn’t look away until someone else called for her attention. Then she came over to me and said “Good Morning, Bird.” Also, she would start a conversation with me. So I got to thinking that maybe it was all in my head, that she never really liked me in the first place and she just wanted to be friends. I start to return the friendly behavior as much as I could, even though most of the time we wouldn’t acknowledge each other. Like we would both be in the same room, but we wouldn’t look at each other or talk to each other. When she thought I wasn’t looking she would look at me, and then when she wasn’t looking I would look at her. Also, we would have these moments, such as once I was sitting in lounge area and I saw her trip. I smiled at her and said, “Hey Red” she didn’t say it back but kept looking at me with wide eyes and while frowning while still walking. Or when she introduced me to others she did the big eyes and frowning face every time, and there after all this that I caught her staring at me a couple of occasions. Then the last night of spring happened me, and my co-workers decided to go out to a bar because it was the end, and I was sad to be leaving. Red wasn’t there which I was happy about, because I didn’t want to see her. Then at 11 o’clock that night, she shows up with her girlfriend. She introduced her to me, I started to feel very awkward but I tried my hardest not to show it. Even though I’m pretty sure I did, we began to play a card game where the cards said things about people we had to match it to someone in the group. The whole night everyone was picking me on, Red was paying attention when she first arrived she asked, “Why is everyone picking on Bird?” I was the most chosen for the cards, and she kept asking me questions about what they were saying. Then there was card that read, “When you’ve fallen so hard for a fuckboy, life alert can’t even save you.” One of my friends points to me and says, “You.” Referring my ex-boyfriend because I told her how he was trying to contact me. When she did this I just nodded, then I looked over at Red and she looked surprised. Her eyes were wide and she kinda just leaned forward, then little while after that her girlfriend left. We all stayed continued to have lots of fun, we didn’t acknowledge each other that much. At one point I was trying to push pass her because she was in my way, and when I did so she said, “What? You’re leaving?” I replied, “I’m just trying to walk pass you.” Then I walked away… so a little bit later, one my friends says him and Rich are leaving then asked if I wanted to come with them. Red was dancing on a table, the two boys said their goodbyes to her, and she didn’t look at me, but she jumped down. Then she said, “Just in case I don’t see you when Sunday.” Then I opened my arms because I didn’t know what else to do. She hugged me long and tight to the point where I was thinking when is she gonna let me go then she said, “It’s been pleasure working with you Bird.” All my other bosses said that to me too, so it was nothing special, so I took that as my cue to let her go. When I tried to one of her arms squeezed me tighter and then with her other hand, she gripped around my waist tightly. Then she whispered “Let us know if you need anything,” once again what my other bosses said to me, but they weren’t so close that I could feel their breath on my neck and ear. It was too much for me she had to stop touching me, so I took a step back and pushed her away. It was tough because I had to force myself out of her arms because she had a firm and vigorous grip on me. She looked hurt, I put my hands on her arms and said, “It was pleasure working with you too.” It was hard to get the words out seeing as she was giving me sad puppy eyes the entire time, then I took my hands off of her and walked away left her standing there. I didn’t look back and that’s the last time I saw her… So after you’ve just read all of this what do you think was going in this situation? Do you think she led me on or was not persistent enough I just need to know. Or was all in my head?

Sorry, it’s too long…

#Red #eyeshadow #purple

*******************************************

Hi, Bird! Wow, this sounds like a bit of torture worrying over someone’s interest level and intentions. Looking back, what would you have done differently? I know you’re shy and this might sound hard to do, but it might actually be easier in the long run to approach someone and ask if they are in a relationship or plan on repairing things with an ex. Depending on the answer, state your feelings. For example, “I’d be next in line if you’re interested.” Smile! Be confident. And walk away if there is awkwardness or silence. That person may just need a bit of time to think about the idea if they haven’t already. If they’re interested you will see clearer signs after that. If you cannot say that, make your flirting more obvious and see how someone responds. I think you two did not really get to know each other or have any dee talks or special alone time to move either of you toward considering a relationship. And, that’s my honest opinion.

It sounds like Red is a very confident person. Her outgoingness makes it a little more difficult to read and the changes in mood and levels of friendliness are even tougher. So, in my opinion, not wonder you’re confused. It’s best to observe and see if she treats you any different than she does others. Also, there’s the option of having a friend ask her about how she feels. You found out she wanted yuo to talk but that could still mean as friends. When there’s a lot of inconsistency, it’s hard to tell. Is she reacting to your actions, torn within herself because she is still emotional over her girlfriend, or, as you said, it was just intentions to be friends.

In the meantime, I know some time has passed since this happened, but it seems, freinds or more, you could feel comfortable texting her, “Hey-how school for you? I miss summer!” At the very least, she did show in her goodbye that she was was glad to have you there. Check out our homepage and click on the Navigation link to our pages. There’s some good material about how to know if someone likes you and healing from heartache.

Good luck, Bird!  

Tracey

Hey Bird,

Honestly? I don’t think you were played. I think there was a lot of misunderstandings between the two of you and it just didn’t work out the way you had hoped it would. I can’t say for certain whether or not she returned your feelings. From what you described, perhaps she did have a small crush on you. Maybe she did start to like you but since she didn’t know if you returned those feelings she may have started acting cold because of it. Similar to how you started avoiding her to prevent your feelings from being hurt when you thought she didn’t like you. Alternatively, she could’ve been a very friendly person and she wasn’t sure how to read you. A lot of times when we find someone interesting, we tend to look at them a lot and maybe it sparked some curiosity because you two may have clicked fairly well during that summer camp. So that may have explained why she was looking at you for a long time. There is honestly no definite way of telling whether or not she truly had feelings for you. We can observe all the signs we want to but sometimes people are just friendly in a way that it can be perceived as romantic attraction. 

Personally, I think she may have had a small crush on you. But like all crushes, unless someone makes the first move, you’re both left wondering if the other person feels the same way and often times one or both of you will decide that the other doesn’t and attempt to move on. Feelings are hurt and she gets back with her ex. Regardless, I don’t think you can change what happened. I think what you can do now is to move on. Don’t dwell on what could’ve been. It sucks and it hurts but I promise it will be okay. Don’t blame her or blame yourself. It was a missed chance. The next time you see each other, try and create a friendship with each other. If you feel that the attraction is still there between the two of you, perhaps it may be worth the shot to take a risk.

Always by your side,

Kelly

[arplis]

Arplis - News: Hollywood on the Hudson: At Home in Upstate, New York, with Amanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen

Weve been following Amanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen for years as they leapfrogged around LA. Amanda is an actress-turned-interior designer who has been on a decades-long remodeling tear. Her style is pleasingly simple, sustainable (since before it was a buzzword), and thrifty: see, for instance, Backyard Bunkhouse and11 Money-Saving Strategies from a Hollywood House Flipper. Her partner in the overhauling business is her husband: theyve lived in 25 places in their 31 years of marriage (along the way, they had four sons), and Corbinthough busy acting, writing, and running his own production companyis a Star Handyman.

After being MIA for a while, they recently resurfaced: When Finley, the youngest of our four, graduated high school and took off for NYC, Corbin and I looked at each other and agreed it was time for another adventure, she wrote.Our book, Open House, had just been released, so we decided to sell up in LA and take a book-signing drive across the country in search of our next project. They made it all the way to the Hudson Valley, where Amandas old friend Priscilla Woolworth has resettled, along with a surprising number of other LA defectors. After experiencing their familys first white Christmas, they decided to stay put.

They knew exactly what to do next: find a structure waiting to be given the Amanda/Corbin treatment. After four weeks of real estate hunting, they bought an 1880s little farmhouse in Germantown, New York, that needed everything. They camped out in a loft rental in nearby Hudson, found a local contractor, and started the demo. Weather dictates a lot here, which was an eye opener for us coming from Californiaand also learning that life has a slower pace here; love that, says Amanda. Heres what the place looks like a year later.

Photography by Amanda Westby, unless noted.

Above: Corbin and Amanda and sons at their new residence (the photo was taken by their oldest sons girlfriend and became this years holiday card). Hands-on creativity runs in the family: two sons work as art directors/production designers in LA., another is in the start-up side of tech, and the youngest is at NYU film school.

The couple bought the house from third-generation owners (who live nearby and were selling when their mother passed away). It had been pale yellow with a front door that was purple and white with a bit of turquoise thrown in, says Amanda. Its now painted a greenish-charcoal called Deep River and the door is Grand Canyon Red, both from Benjamin Moore. Upstate gentrifiers have been accused of defaulting to noirish exteriors, but Amanda defends the choice: its a classic color that draws attention to the architecture and looks great against the backdrop of all these seasons. Plus for every dark house, there are ten white farmhouses around here. Photograph by Jessica Dube.

Above: The couplehes 65, she just turned 60say they love their new surroundings and plan to stay upstate. Theyve become part of a community thats big on bartering: Amanda Westby, co-owner of Alder & Co, employs Amanda as a model in exchange for clothes (Amanda also took most of the photos shown here), and Amanda says she recently gave her doctors husband remodeling advice for medical care.

Im continually struck by the adventure of this new experience and discovering an entire life so different from palm trees, beaches, convertibles, and eternal sunshine, Corbin recently wrote on Facebook. My biggest problem, I guess, if Im allowed to go there, is that I have tons of time to think without all the distractions that Im used to.And when the snow falls, its even more quiet than the normal quiet that Im getting used to. You can hear your heartbeat, literally or perhaps thats the shoveling of snow forcing blood through my veins.

Above: The back doors and basement bulkhead are also Benjamin Moore Grand Canyon Red: I knew if I was going with dark monotone windows, I had to find a place to uplift, says Amanda.

She learned about remodeling historic houses from her father, who was an actor-turned agent and the original house flipper in the family: I grew up in southeast England, and he used to drag me around to look at properties and would ask my opinion. So the whole house buying, fixing-up, reselling thing came from my childhood. And Corbin, coincidentally, learned carpentry from his mother and uncle.

Above: The front door opens to the original staircase: as it was, the door banged into the stair, says Corbin. We fixed that and had to reproduce some of thebalusters. Above: Much of the art and furnishings have traveled with the couple from house to house. (Corbin has become a master packer and uses Pods as an economical way to move households.) Amanda bought the paintinga 1951 work by Brazilian Constructivist Lygia Clark30 years ago while filming a movie in Brazil. The zinc umbrella and cane holder is a long ago LA swap meet purchase.

Amanda tells us: Weve been at this practically since our first date, when Corbin showed me his house that he had just finished himself, and I said, I think were going to have to make some changes. It was full-blown Santa Fe-style and needed some tweaking and layeringsome soul. The English in me came out, and thats when we started blending our styles, and buying and selling things.

Above: We went down to the studs and nothing else, says Corbin of the 1,700 square foot interior. This is the equivalent of a bionic house. Explains Amanda: We replaced or added: HVAC, all plumbing, all electric, insulation, new drywall, bathrooms, and the kitchen.

Their most dramatic move was to open up the main floor and introduce oak beams throughout that are both structural (the ones shown here) and cosmetic. The floor is the original sub floors stripped and sealed with Pure Matte Finish from Vermont Natural Coatings.

Above: The vintage Franklin stove came from Hoffmans Barn in Red Hook, NY. The walls throughout are painted with lime wash from Portola in LA. Amanda had the curtains stitched from canvas drop cloths (each is a hemmed single panel).

I like a neutral balance, so drop cloths always work, she says. I usually make them into shades, but you hardly notice these curtains, and in the winter you can pull them shut to make the room feel warmer.

Above: The living space opens to a roomy dining area and kitchen. The cabinets are Ikeawith Ikeas vertical-groovedHittarp fronts in an off-white lacquer that Amanda painted herself. This isnt something they recommend, but it worked well: even the chipping looks authentic. I used a heavy Kilz primerno sandingfollowed by two coats of Benjamin Moore Chelsea Gray in a satin finish.

Amanda found the center island marble slab on Craigs List for $150 and drove two hours in a U-Haul to get it.

Above: The dining table is one of several pieces that the couple found during their first pilgrimage to the Brimfield flea market. We arrived in the rain witha list of items we needed, including maximum and minimum measurements for each piece, says Amanda.

Corbin bought the tablemaybe originally a schoolhouse piece, definitely Europeanusing money he had saved from the many years his mother tucked bills in his Christmas stocking. I finally realized I dont have to worry about never having a buck in my hand, and decided to honor my late mother with a table that we love.

Above: The counters are butcher block from Ikea and Amanda finished the cabinets with painted wood knobs she bought at Home Depot. The Kitchen Aid stove and other appliances are also from Home Depot: I go when theyre having a buy two get the third free sale. Above: The aluminum hooks in the back entry came from a favorite hardware/antiques store in La Bisbal, Spain, within driving distance of their vacation house, A Fixed-Up Farm in the South of Francethe one project they say theyll never sell.

Recognize the dog painting? We doit appeared in Remodelista: The Organized Home and our postAmanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen Air Their Dirty Laundry.

Above: The moody back room with new built-in bookshelves is the library/TV room and Corbins home office. The lime wash here proved tricky: the couples two oldest sons drove the paint across the country and it froze along the way. When they painted this room, it was streaky and lumpy in parts, says Corbin. I came back from LA with more paint and went over it. I didnt finish but realized it looked right: we like patched-together rather than perfect.

The Emmy is Corbins mothers lifetime achievement awardJeanne Cooper, the grande dame of daytime, was on The Young and The Restless for 40 years, and played Corbins mother on LA Law.

Above: Amanda notes that the cold climate has inspired her to get back into pillows and blankets draped on sofas, and even living with stuff: its about feeling cozy. She got the sofa and chair at the Hammertown Barn in nearby Pine Plains: Theyre from the summer tent sale: I was the first in line at 7 am. Above: The lime-washed powder room is two-toned, another signature touch of Amandas. The Little Bo Peep collage was a recent surprise gift: One of the original owners came by and said, My mother made this tapestry piece and Id like it to remain in the house.' Above: Amandas deskpurchased for $150 at a local auctionis set in a bay on the side of the house. Most of the windows are original and have beautiful glass that ripples, she says. I hung bird feeders right outside, so I can watch the birds as I work. Above: There are three bedrooms upstairs. The red painting, by Peter Aspell, is another fave that goes with us from house to house. Above: The master bedroom has a conceptual headboard: Amanda dragged home from a walk along the Hudson River near their house. In lieu of doors, she enclosed the closets with curtains made from a Les Indiennes print purchased at the companys Hudson, NY, shop. It a very informal little house; curtains lend a relaxed feeling and they dont take up any room. Above: Corbins guitar in a corner of the guest room.The upstairs floors are painted Benjamin Moore Wrought Iron. The reclaimed beams used throughout came from The Hudson Companyand from sellers on Craigs List. Above: The rebuilt upstairs bath has a new-old look. The tub, along with three sinks, came from Hoffmans Barn: Amanda and Corbin hauled them to a local refinisher (but left the exterior of the tub stripped). The painted floors and beams extend appear here, too: Our contractor said, you cant have wood in the bath, and we said, Yes you can,'says Amanda. Above: The houses ceramic doorknobs are original. The giant medicine cabinet next to the sink is one of the couples Brimfield finds: its an antique jelly cupboard that came with decoupaged doors: Amanda whitewashed it and then tackled our kitchen cabinets, says Corbin.

Whats next? Amanda reports that theyre looking for a larger place in the area to tackle nextwed like to have enough room for the whole family and friendsand some rescue donkeys and goats The plan is to keep this house and down the line rent it out. I want to host people in cool environments, while I go gray and grow veggies, says Amanda.

More upstate style:

Architect Visit: A Dutchess County Farmhouse Transformed

Hudson Valley Hues: At Home with an Inventive Textile Designer

Saved from Abandonment: A Historic Farmhouse Receives the Ultimate Make-Under

And for many places to stay in the area, consult to our Design Travel posts.

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/PN5ELNENLE8/hollywood-on-the-hudson-at-home-in-upstate-new-york-with-amanda-pays-and-corbin-bernsen

[fionatlux]

Episode 1 / Episode 2 / Episode 3 / Episode 4 

STILL STAR-CROSSED, EPISODE 5 Sympathetic blondes, bickering, and... Coriolanus? (Which I happen, coincidentally, to be reading this week. No, I know what you’re thinking, and I am a giant nerd, I once read King John solely because I was going to a performance of The Compleat Wrks of Wllm Shkspr (Abridged) later that day and I wanted to screw up that joke for them, but this IS an actual coincidence. @lessthansix has been telling me to read Coriolanus for years and I somehow thought it would be less depressing bedtime reading than A.E. Housman. Surprisingly, it is. A Shropshire Lad is f***ing bleak. Whereas Coriolanus goes around yelling “AUFIDIUUUUUUUS!” Yes, it’s a tragedy, but also it’s like this.) 

[ANYWAY. There is a recap somewhere in all this babbling, I swear!]

The Palace, Verona

ESCALUS: Right, I’m leading the search parties, you’re in charge!

ISABELLA: I can’t, I’m going to Venice.

ESCALUS: But you’ve always wanted to rule Verona!

ISABELLA: Yeah, but priorities. Plus I got a makeover montage and a new dress just for the trip and I don’t want to waste it.

  Somewhere Outside Verona

BENVOLIO: So have you ever been camping?

ROSALINE: No, why?

BENVOLIO: If you had, you would have known to bring a sweater.

[Forced proximity and sharing outerwear for warmth: check!]

  The Doge’s Palace, Venice

ISABELLA: I’m sure the Doge wants to hear Verona’s apology for getting his brother killed ASAP! Then he can sign the treaty and I can get out of here!

[The supreme ruler of Venice has got his throne room tricked out with dancing girls. Isabella barges right in, because nobody knows anything about protocol. She is pretty shocked.]

ISABELLA: You know what, I am pretty tired from my journey. The apology can wait!

The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

THE DOGE: I decline to hear your apology until I hear your other apology, if you know what I mean!

ISABELLA: Eww. So, I am clearly out of my depth here.

[Izzy! Are you a Machiavellian would-be tyrant or not? Kick his sleazy ass!]

  Somewhere Outside Verona

ROSALINE: So you’re just gonna knock on the door and demand sanctuary?

BENVOLIO: Yep.

ROSALINE: And you think this is gonna work?

BENVOLIO: …maybe? Look, I’m new to this whole being-on-the-run thing.

ROSALINE: OK, I’ll just stand here and watch you from a safe distance.

  Some Abbey, Somewhere Outside Verona

BENVOLIO: I request sanctuary!

SOME MONK: DENIED.

BENVOLIO: Well, shit. New plan!

  The Guest Room, The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

[Isabella has an informative conversation with Helena, her sympathetic blonde Venetian lady-in-waiting, and Valentina, the Doge’s chief, uh, advisor, among other things.]

ISABELLA: If I had any pearls I would be clutching them right now.

[Get it together, Izzy! Didn’t Lady M. tell you anything useful?]

ISABELLA: Orifice?!?!?!

[Could this place be any more cartoonishly sleazy?]

HELENA: I take it the Doge is not your type?

ISABELLA: No, I think my type may actually be sympathetic blondes!

 Some Abbey, Somewhere Outside Verona

ROSALINE: So you convinced him to let you in, how?

BENVOLIO: Told him I was good at gardening. And cleaning stables. And pushing wheelbarrows. Here, wear this cunning disguise and I shall sneak you in too!

[Unexpectedly, the soldiers Escalus sent barge into the abbey! Also unexpectedly, the abbot is a BAMF and tells them where to stick it. Roz and B. continue their clandestine search for Friar Lawrence. They find his bedroom, but...] 

BENVOLIO: Oh noes, Friar Lawrence is dead!

ROSALINE: Nah, he’s just fake-dead. Trust me on this one.

  The Doge’s Room of Rapaciousness, The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

[Isabella has apparently decided that the way not to get molested is by detailing all her favorite parts of Coriolanus. She has also possibly suborned Valentina?]

VALENTINA: Scusi Your Sleaziness, sorry to burst in, it’s just that the laundry just told me Isabella is on her period and I know you think that’s icky, so hit the brakes.

THE DOGE: EWWWW. EW EW EW OH GOD FEMALE BODIES EW UNCLEAN UNCLEAN EWWWWWWW.

ISABELLA: Oh? It’s a perfectly natural bodily process, we’ll just put down a towel—

[Somewhere in the background, Rachel Bloom begins crooning “Period Sex.” Does anybody in the fandom watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend?]

ISABELLA: —nothing to be—

THE DOGE: OUT!!!

ISABELLA: fyeah who’s a cunning manipulator now? THIS GIRL.

  Some Abbey, Somewhere Outside Verona

BENVOLIO: The Friar is never gonna wake up! I say we run while we have the chance.

ROSALINE: B., of the two of us, which is the one who has experience with camping?

BENVOLIO: Me.

ROSALINE: And which is the one who has experience with fake-death potions?

BENVOLIO: …fine.

BENVOLIO: Are you sorry you ran away with me? You could always go back and marry my uncle.

ROSALINE: Nah. Even if this all goes south, everybody will assume you slept with me and I won’t have to get married, so either way, I win.

FRIAR LAWRENCE: *GASP*

[I know, Friar, Benvolio is pretty surprised too. Isabella and Rosaline should write a book on turning shitty patriarchal conventions to their advantage.]

  The Guest Room, The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

[Isabella has apparently suborned not Valentina but Helena the sympathetic blonde lady-in-waiting, and got actual blood on the sheets by stabbing herself in the thigh with a pair of scissors, holy shit. Isabella is hardcore.]

ISABELLA: I am so happy to be going home!

HELENA: *heart eyes* I am so happy for you, although I will be sad to be stuck here all alone again with these sleazebags!

[They hold hands for a very long moment. It is adorable. Unfortunately, Valentina arrives to kill the mood.]

VALENTINA: Change of plans! The Doge wants you to stay a few more days, say maybe a week? Until things, you know, dry up?

ISABELLA & HELENA: Oh shit.

  Some Abbey, Somewhere Outside Verona

FRIAR LAWRENCE: I don’t know anything!

ROSALINE: Start talking, or I go to the abbot and get you burned at the stake for witchcraft!

BENVOLIO: I’m both scared and a little turned on right now.

FRIAR LAWRENCE: The Nurse told me that Paris and Lady Capulet are conspiring in the basement and they plan to use Livia!

ROSALINE: OH HELL NO. Nobody uses my baby sister! I’m going back to Verona!

BENVOLIO: Me too, I guess. It’s obvious that I’m kind of useless without you at this point.

THE ABBOT: *watches them gallop off, ominously*

  Somewhere Outside Verona

[The CGI zoom is back! It’s a lot less CGI now that they’re out in the middle of the countryside. Rosaline is refilling her water bottle at a river, which means my least favorite plot point is coming up. At some point. You know, now that we’ve established that there’s a mmmf mmm mmfffrrr. Anyway, the soldiers, despite being clad in clanky armor and having a bunch of horses, have somehow snuck up on them.]

BENVOLIO: Quick, hide!

[Forced proximity due to hiding from danger: check!]

ROSALINE: I cannot believe they didn’t see us hiding behind these bushes. Seriously, B. is wearing brown leather, but I’m still in my fetching yet highly visible maid outfit.

[In all fairness, it’s really hard to get vision as part of a health insurance package, and Escalus doesn’t seem like the most caring employer.]

  Valentina’s Room, The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

ISABELLA: Look, my city has some seriously outdated ideas about virginity and gender roles, so help me out here. I have a proposition for you!

VALENTINA: I… may be interested. Tell me more!

 Some Inn, Somewhere Outside Verona

THE INNKEEPER: You two have fun now!

BENVOLIO: I am a little embarrassed.

ROSALINE: Aw, you’re kind of cute when you’re embarrassed.  

[Naturally, there is only one bed. CHECK.]

BENVOLIO: Uh… I guess I will sleep on the floor?

ROSALINE: Correct!

[She says it in a flirty way, though.]

  The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

[Isabella did not bribe Valentina nearly enough. Oops? Also, the Papal States have invaded somebody and the Doge is pouty because he wanted to invade them first.]

HELENA: Uh-oh. I really hope we’re not going to take a side trip into Measure for Measure territory here. Or All’s Well That Ends Well. Both of those are icky.

ISABELLA: Let’s steal Valentina’s diary and use it to blackmail her!

HELENA: Oh, that is such a relief.

  Some Inn, Somewhere Outside Verona

BENVOLIO: Ah, I’m gonna miss taking baths when I’m executed for murder.

[Bickering has progressed to the point where Rosaline making death threats is just adorable banter.]

BENVOLIO: Ok, I’m getting out, no peeking.

[Rosaline totally peeks.]

ROSALINE: Daaaayum.

  The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

ISABELLA: Valentina! I know I tried to suborn you earlier and you stabbed me in the back, but now I need your, uh, lady advice!

VALENTINA: I’m sure this is in no way a distraction while your smitten lady-in-waiting Helena steals my diary!

ISABELLA: Yep! Totally not a distraction!

 The Guest Room, The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

HELENA: I didn’t find Valentina’s diary, but I did find a locked drawer full of gold coins! From the Papal States!

ISABELLA: How did you manage that?

HELENA: I’m handy with a letter-opener.

  The Doge’s Palace of Debauchery, Venice

ISABELLA: Apropos of nothing, did I ever tell you about the time I found a traitor back home? Who was spying for another city-state? Who kept his bribe money in his desk?

VALENTINA: Oh shit.

VALENTINA: So, thanks to Princess Isabella, we found out that your dead brother was totally selling you out to the Papal States! Yes. Your dead brother. Thanks to Isabella. You had better return the favor and agree to her treaty.

THE DOGE: *pouts*

ISABELLA: SIGN HERE.

  Some Inn, Somewhere Outside Verona

[Alas, further hilarious they-only-have-one-bed shenanigans are disrupted by the arrival of the soldiers.]

ROSALINE: I’ll tell the soldiers you went to Padua, and get them to take me to the Prince so I can disclose what we learned from Friar Lawrence!

BENVOLIO: But what will I do while you’re gone? Besides not go to Padua, obviously.

BENVOLIO: Never mind, she’s already left.

 A Sad Farewell, Venice

HELENA: Take this token as a memento of our time together Venice!

ISABELLA: I shall treasure it always!

HELENA: You will be a great ruler some day! Male primogeniture is stupid and I believe in you!

[They exchange a lingering embrace and looks of thwarted longing as Isabella’s carriage leaves. Though she has gotten the treaty signed and not had to sleep with the Doge, Isabella looks like she’s been punched in the gut. Team Bring Helena to Verona! Seriously, that is the least platonic hug I have ever seen.]

  The Royal Camp, Somewhere Outside Verona

ROSALINE: Take me to the Prince at once!

PARIS: He’s back in Verona and I’m in charge here! Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met? I am Count Paris!

ROSALINE: Oh shit.

Next Episode

[arplis]

Arplis - News: Hollywood on the Hudson: At Home in Upstate, New York, with Amanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen

Weve been following Amanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen for years as they leapfrogged around LA. Amanda is an actress-turned-interior designer who has been on a decades-long remodeling tear. Her style is pleasingly simple, sustainable (since before it was a buzzword), and thrifty: see, for instance, Backyard Bunkhouse and11 Money-Saving Strategies from a Hollywood House Flipper. Her partner in the overhauling business is her husband: theyve lived in 25 places in their 31 years of marriage (along the way, they had four sons), and Corbinthough busy acting, writing, and running his own production companyis a Star Handyman.

After being MIA for a while, they recently resurfaced: When Finley, the youngest of our four, graduated high school and took off for NYC, Corbin and I looked at each other and agreed it was time for another adventure, she wrote.Our book, Open House, had just been released, so we decided to sell up in LA and take a book-signing drive across the country in search of our next project. They made it all the way to the Hudson Valley, where Amandas old friend Priscilla Woolworth has resettled, along with a surprising number of other LA defectors. After experiencing their familys first white Christmas, they decided to stay put.

They knew exactly what to do next: find a structure waiting to be given the Amanda/Corbin treatment. After four weeks of real estate hunting, they bought an 1880s little farmhouse in Germantown, New York, that needed everything. They camped out in a loft rental in nearby Hudson, found a local contractor, and started the demo. Weather dictates a lot here, which was an eye opener for us coming from Californiaand also learning that life has a slower pace here; love that, says Amanda. Heres what the place looks like a year later.

Photography by Amanda Westby, unless noted.

Above: Corbin and Amanda and sons at their new residence (the photo was taken by their oldest sons girlfriend and became this years holiday card). Hands-on creativity runs in the family: two sons work as art directors/production designers in LA., another is in the start-up side of tech, and the youngest is at NYU film school.

The couple bought the house from third-generation owners (who live nearby and were selling when their mother passed away). It had been pale yellow with a front door that was purple and white with a bit of turquoise thrown in, says Amanda. Its now painted a greenish-charcoal called Deep River and the door is Grand Canyon Red, both from Benjamin Moore. Upstate gentrifiers have been accused of defaulting to noirish exteriors, but Amanda defends the choice: its a classic color that draws attention to the architecture and looks great against the backdrop of all these seasons. Plus for every dark house, there are ten white farmhouses around here. Photograph by Jessica Dube.

Above: The couplehes 65, she just turned 60say they love their new surroundings and plan to stay upstate. Theyve become part of a community thats big on bartering: Amanda Westby, co-owner of Alder & Co, employs Amanda as a model in exchange for clothes (Amanda also took most of the photos shown here), and Amanda says she recently gave her doctors husband remodeling advice for medical care.

Im continually struck by the adventure of this new experience and discovering an entire life so different from palm trees, beaches, convertibles, and eternal sunshine, Corbin recently wrote on Facebook. My biggest problem, I guess, if Im allowed to go there, is that I have tons of time to think without all the distractions that Im used to.And when the snow falls, its even more quiet than the normal quiet that Im getting used to. You can hear your heartbeat, literally or perhaps thats the shoveling of snow forcing blood through my veins.

Above: The back doors and basement bulkhead are also Benjamin Moore Grand Canyon Red: I knew if I was going with dark monotone windows, I had to find a place to uplift, says Amanda.

She learned about remodeling historic houses from her father, who was an actor-turned agent and the original house flipper in the family: I grew up in southeast England, and he used to drag me around to look at properties and would ask my opinion. So the whole house buying, fixing-up, reselling thing came from my childhood. And Corbin, coincidentally, learned carpentry from his mother and uncle.

Above: The front door opens to the original staircase: as it was, the door banged into the stair, says Corbin. We fixed that and had to reproduce some of thebalusters. Above: Much of the art and furnishings have traveled with the couple from house to house. (Corbin has become a master packer and uses Pods as an economical way to move households.) Amanda bought the paintinga 1951 work by Brazilian Constructivist Lygia Clark30 years ago while filming a movie in Brazil. The zinc umbrella and cane holder is a long ago LA swap meet purchase.

Amanda tells us: Weve been at this practically since our first date, when Corbin showed me his house that he had just finished himself, and I said, I think were going to have to make some changes. It was full-blown Santa Fe-style and needed some tweaking and layeringsome soul. The English in me came out, and thats when we started blending our styles, and buying and selling things.

Above: We went down to the studs and nothing else, says Corbin of the 1,700 square foot interior. This is the equivalent of a bionic house. Explains Amanda: We replaced or added: HVAC, all plumbing, all electric, insulation, new drywall, bathrooms, and the kitchen.

Their most dramatic move was to open up the main floor and introduce oak beams throughout that are both structural (the ones shown here) and cosmetic. The floor is the original sub floors stripped and sealed with Pure Matte Finish from Vermont Natural Coatings.

Above: The vintage Franklin stove came from Hoffmans Barn in Red Hook, NY. The walls throughout are painted with lime wash from Portola in LA. Amanda had the curtains stitched from canvas drop cloths (each is a hemmed single panel).

I like a neutral balance, so drop cloths always work, she says. I usually make them into shades, but you hardly notice these curtains, and in the winter you can pull them shut to make the room feel warmer.

Above: The living space opens to a roomy dining area and kitchen. The cabinets are Ikeawith Ikeas vertical-groovedHittarp fronts in an off-white lacquer that Amanda painted herself. This isnt something they recommend, but it worked well: even the chipping looks authentic. I used a heavy Kilz primerno sandingfollowed by two coats of Benjamin Moore Chelsea Gray in a satin finish.

Amanda found the center island marble slab on Craigs List for $150 and drove two hours in a U-Haul to get it.

Above: The dining table is one of several pieces that the couple found during their first pilgrimage to the Brimfield flea market. We arrived in the rain witha list of items we needed, including maximum and minimum measurements for each piece, says Amanda.

Corbin bought the tablemaybe originally a schoolhouse piece, definitely Europeanusing money he had saved from the many years his mother tucked bills in his Christmas stocking. I finally realized I dont have to worry about never having a buck in my hand, and decided to honor my late mother with a table that we love.

Above: The counters are butcher block from Ikea and Amanda finished the cabinets with painted wood knobs she bought at Home Depot. The Kitchen Aid stove and other appliances are also from Home Depot: I go when theyre having a buy two get the third free sale. Above: The aluminum hooks in the back entry came from a favorite hardware/antiques store in La Bisbal, Spain, within driving distance of their vacation house, A Fixed-Up Farm in the South of Francethe one project they say theyll never sell.

Recognize the dog painting? We doit appeared in Remodelista: The Organized Home and our postAmanda Pays and Corbin Bernsen Air Their Dirty Laundry.

Above: The moody back room with new built-in bookshelves is the library/TV room and Corbins home office. The lime wash here proved tricky: the couples two oldest sons drove the paint across the country and it froze along the way. When they painted this room, it was streaky and lumpy in parts, says Corbin. I came back from LA with more paint and went over it. I didnt finish but realized it looked right: we like patched-together rather than perfect.

The Emmy is Corbins mothers lifetime achievement awardJeanne Cooper, the grande dame of daytime, was on The Young and The Restless for 40 years, and played Corbins mother on LA Law.

Above: Amanda notes that the cold climate has inspired her to get back into pillows and blankets draped on sofas, and even living with stuff: its about feeling cozy. She got the sofa and chair at the Hammertown Barn in nearby Pine Plains: Theyre from the summer tent sale: I was the first in line at 7 am. Above: The lime-washed powder room is two-toned, another signature touch of Amandas. The Little Bo Peep collage was a recent surprise gift: One of the original owners came by and said, My mother made this tapestry piece and Id like it to remain in the house.' Above: Amandas deskpurchased for $150 at a local auctionis set in a bay on the side of the house. Most of the windows are original and have beautiful glass that ripples, she says. I hung bird feeders right outside, so I can watch the birds as I work. Above: There are three bedrooms upstairs. The red painting, by Peter Aspell, is another fave that goes with us from house to house. Above: The master bedroom has a conceptual headboard: Amanda dragged home from a walk along the Hudson River near their house. In lieu of doors, she enclosed the closets with curtains made from a Les Indiennes print purchased at the companys Hudson, NY, shop. It a very informal little house; curtains lend a relaxed feeling and they dont take up any room. Above: Corbins guitar in a corner of the guest room.The upstairs floors are painted Benjamin Moore Wrought Iron. The reclaimed beams used throughout came from The Hudson Companyand from sellers on Craigs List. Above: The rebuilt upstairs bath has a new-old look. The tub, along with three sinks, came from Hoffmans Barn: Amanda and Corbin hauled them to a local refinisher (but left the exterior of the tub stripped). The painted floors and beams extend appear here, too: Our contractor said, you cant have wood in the bath, and we said, Yes you can,'says Amanda. Above: The houses ceramic doorknobs are original. The giant medicine cabinet next to the sink is one of the couples Brimfield finds: its an antique jelly cupboard that came with decoupaged doors: Amanda whitewashed it and then tackled our kitchen cabinets, says Corbin.

Whats next? Amanda reports that theyre looking for a larger place in the area to tackle nextwed like to have enough room for the whole family and friendsand some rescue donkeys and goats The plan is to keep this house and down the line rent it out. I want to host people in cool environments, while I go gray and grow veggies, says Amanda.

More upstate style:

Architect Visit: A Dutchess County Farmhouse Transformed

Hudson Valley Hues: At Home with an Inventive Textile Designer

Saved from Abandonment: A Historic Farmhouse Receives the Ultimate Make-Under

And for many places to stay in the area, consult to our Design Travel posts.

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/hollywood-on-the-hudson-at-home-in-upstate-new-york-with-amanda-pays-and-corbin-bernsen