#io bree

[doamarierose-honoka]

Riley Andersen with Grace Hsieh and Bree Young in Dream Productions TV series

[ros64]

Ye Dinna get used to it

A beautiful episode that redeems the mediocrity of the previous one. I melted at the looks exchanged between Jamie and John. In their hatred, they love each other. Did you notice Jamie’s expression, the way his body moved, his breathing when he saw he was safe and standing there? Sam is absolutely brilliant in those moments when he speaks through his face and body. David is no less impressive, and his exchange with Percy is worthy of a textbook performance.

I also really enjoyed William with Jane—Silvia is very talented, by the way, another spot-on casting choice. It’s truly a shame what will happen. I’ll always root for Will and Fanny, even if their story hasn’t been written yet. Ian and Rachel were very sweet too, but in my opinion, they’re missing something. I’m not sure what—maybe the actors don’t have the right chemistry, a bit like Roger and Bree, who work much better when they’re not paired as a couple.

The Marquis de Lafayette was very charming, an original, likable, and well-portrayed character—I really appreciated him. As for Richardson, I won’t say much to avoid spoilers, but even by the end of Bees, I couldn’t fully understand him. That he’s a time traveler is now obvious, but what he truly wants has never been clear.

This episode also lets us appreciate Jamie’s introspection—that blend of humanity, warrior strength, and leadership—that extra something that makes him the perfect man, for better or worse. I really like this new Claire more than the one from the earlier seasons, and I will never stop saying that she reflects the Claire from the novels more—the one I love so much, she’s the perfect partner for Jamie and the support his tormented soul needs. The final score was beautiful.

And finally: “Go and save our son.” Because what unites these two men is something that surpasses mere “carnal knowledge.”

Un bellissimo episodio che riscatta la pochezza del precedente. Mi sono sciolta per gli sguardi tra Jamie e John. Odiandosi si amano. Avete notato l’espressione di Jamie e il movimento del suo corpo, il respiro quando ha visto che era salvo ed era lì? Sam è meraviglioso in quei momenti in cui parla col viso e col corpo. David non è da meno e lo scambio con Percy vale un interpretazione da manuale. Mi è piaciuto moltissimo anche William con Jane, Silvia è molto brava tra l’altro, un altro pov azzeccato dal casting. Davvero peccato quello che succederà. Io continuerò sempre a fare il tifo per Will e Fanny, anche se la storia non è ancora stata scritta. Molto dolci Ian e Rachel però, a mio avviso, a loro manca qualcosa, non so, forse gli attori non sono bene assortiti un po’ come Roger e Bree che funzionano molto meglio quando non sono in coppia. Molto carino il Marchese De Lafayette, personaggio originale, simpatico e ben interpretato, l’ho apprezzato tantissimo. Di Richardson non parlo, farei spoiler ma neppure alla fine di Bees mi è riuscito di comprenderlo del tutto, che sia un viaggiatore ormai è palese, ma cosa voglia davvero non è mai stato chiaro. Anche in questo episodio possiamo apprezzare l’ introspezione di Jamie quel suo essere così umano e allo stesso tempo guerriero e condottiero, quel qualcosa in più che lo rende l’uomo perfetto nel bene e nel male. Questa nuova Claire mi piace più di quella delle prime stagioni e non smetterò mai di dire che rispecchia di più la Claire dei romanzi quella che amo tanto, la compagna perfetta per Jamie e il sostegno della sua anima tormentata. Bellissima la sigla finale.

E infine: “Vai e salva nostro figlio” perché ciò che unisce questi due uomini è qualcosa che surclassa la “conoscenza carnale”.

[roocomehome]

LOVE TRAIN INBOUND !! 🚂💨💨

This is inspired by @acuar-io !! Thank you for doing this and THANK YOU FOR THE TAG!! (even tho it didnt tag me properly 🤧)

Tumblr is silly and while I will tag ppl, I know not everyone will be properly tagged, so if u see this, skim thru the list for your name ESPECIALLY if your my mutual ! 🫶

To start off, I just wanna say that Fae (acuar-io) has some absolutely STUNNING sims, it's hard to exactly word it, but their sims are SUPER recognizable, and their saves (Snow flower, Cozy save, etc) are SO nicely edited, so aesthetically pleasing to the eyes 🫶😩

@oshinsimblr is the reason why I started storytelling (even before my simblr time) and why I try and find a story-related reason on why my sims/characters do certain things, her videos are also SO comforting and i love her lovesick series!!! and of course, @minimooberry the whole inspo for this simblr and why I render in blender!

@mattodore and @cinamun are AMAZING simblrs if u want rich storytelling and/or well-thought out characters, River has inspired me to really tear into my characters and give them more personality, and cina just genuinely makes such realistic characters and the tea is ALWAYS hot and simblr aside, she has very good takes >:P

@groovetrys and @circusjuney have been around on my blog and as my mutuals for a LONG time and they really are some of my biggest hype people, lori has an AMAZING legacy going on with her sim, Melody, and u should DEF check it out, and june makes the most amazing clown sims 🥹 theyre always so pretty and STUNNINGGGG

-> To add onto the above category, id also consider @miralure as one of my biggest hype ppl!!! Although they havent been around as long as june and lori, they always hype me up and it makes me stupid happy 😭 they make REALLY good lookbooks and i love their sim style SMMMM

if u dont know about @rebouks what are you DOING with your simblr-life, bc becca has some of the most human-feeling story/dialogue, i always get a stupid sappy smile on my face when i read her story posts

@jarakio has an AMAZING story called Girls with Guns and its prolly my fav story that ive read on simblr, the dialogue? amazing, the poses? amazing, the vibes? AMAZING, i'm ALWAYS hooked in whenever i see GwG pop up on my dash

@stellarfalls just HAD to be on this list are u kidding me????? Bree has a PHENOMENAL save called Valley, even tho there's no dialogue, each image and gif speaks more than words could, she's inspired me to kick up the quality of my posts and also start making gifs, I also consider her to be one of my biggest hype ppl, she always be coming in with the best compliments 🥹🫶

@torissims !!! She makes BEAUTIFUL posts, her blog is very yellow and orange and i LOVE IT, she pulls a lot of inspo from Studio Ghibli and even tho ive never seen any SG Movies, I can just see and feel the inspo, shes def underrated af 🥹

@amburgundy has BEAUTIFUL builds, and they dont just do TS4, they also make builds in other sims games!! (u did a phenomenal job with Madi's legacy house amber 🤝) I LOVE the clutter and they always looks so cozy 😭

@flovoid is another one of my hypemen LMFAOOO bro you and your tags literally make me so happy, i LOVE reading them. Flo makes AMAZING SIMS, and you should check out literally ALL of their sims, especially their sims Roo and Norman from Majima Land (first post under my Roo tag is me reacting to one of their posts with Roo and Norman, funniest introduction to a blog ever), Also their sim, Draco Almond??? He's got me tucking my hair behind my ear... 🫦🫦

@elderwisp has some of the most immaculate editing ive ever seen, the lighting, the vibes, the dialogue, the poses, the expressions, i be eating those posts up like im fine dining 😩😩

@changingplumbob is so chill, I love how much passion she has for her rotations, and her love for cats?? Perfect mutual to have, I also literally LOVE reading her behind the scenes posts, they're literally so funny 😭😭

@tricoufamily and @dejasenti99 make absolutely phenomenal renders, like if theres any renders on simblr that im gonna recognize immediately, its these two's renders, they're genuinely more HQ than my fucking eyes 😭😭

-> Also Nat (Missatan) makes incredibly HQ renders as well, these three are like... my biggest blender render inspos...

@buttertrait @missatan @virtualfolk @pearlean @claudtrait all have BEAUTIFUL sim styles, butter's is very unique, i know they arent really a sims 4 blog anymore but i ALWAYS recognize butter's sims when i see them on my dash and I genuinely love their sim style sm. Nat (Missatan) has SUCH a gorgeous sim style, you've heard of them hips dont lie, well her sims' lips dont lie 😩🫦 Virt (Virtualfolk) and Sam's (pearlean) sim styles are SO animated (if that makes sense), they're like eye-candy. Den (claudtrait), like Nat, has a sim style with the most luscious lips and poutiest faces ive ever seen and are just SOO pleasing to look at, like i just feel blessed in the eyes when i see their sims

@yukikocloud 's Apricot save and storytelling is incredibly reminiscent of Bree's posts, and I just LOVE looking at and reading her story posts, this post in particular just absolutely captivated me, I was drawn in and just get so giddy seeing the Apricot save pop up on my dash 🥹

@alientown @venriliz @nefarrilou @druidberries @machinegrl make STUNNINGGGGG occult (or cyber/robotic in Baja/Machinegrl's instance) sims. Nef always makes beautiful sims for their Cryptid "series", im just in AWE when i see their cryptids... Ven and Ana (alientown) both always make absolutely gorgeous alien sims and they also just have very unique/beautiful sim styles 😍 Baja's cyber girlies are just >>>>>>>>>>>>> I love her whole dystopian/cyber theme, its literally so good and so cool, and her Deadstars series? SO good. Alexis' (druidberries) elowen is so pretty, and her sim style, especially with occults, is just MWAH chefs kiss, literal eye candy

@swallowprettybird is just one of the sweetest people on simblr, I love reading what she has to say about mine and others' posts, and she makes amazingggg posts, I loved that one national geographic inspired post with the zebra, it was so well done

@softle0 makes some absolutely stunning builds, they always look so lived in, so cozy and I would ABSOLUTELY live in pretty much every single build they make

and honorable mentions to @droolski @felysline @pamsimmerstories @swiftviolets @weirdosalike @mushbop @calicosimgirl @shadowtrait and @seriallovertrait because I feel like they're all SO underrated, they're all passionate about their own stuff and I just love seeing their posts, and if you're seeing this, FOLLOW THEM 🫵🫵

Thank you Fae (acuar-io) once again for starting this train up, I love seeing stuff like this and it's so sweet to see what everyone has to say about one another, I may have spent 1 or 2 hours doing this, but it was INCREDIBLY well spent to be able to admire and appreciate all these people, them and every other simblr person, whether i follow them or not, deserve every last drop of love and appreciation genuinely

[simeffable]

FAQ’s

Frequently asked questions to eeeaaasseee your mind :)

1. Can I recolour your CC?

Yes! Recolours and retextures are a-okay in my book, you don’t even have to ask first! Just please credit me and link to the original CC. My full TOU can be found here.

2. Is your CC free?

Yes! My stuff will ALWAY be free unless it is a commission. I sincerely doubt I will ever start a Patreon, although maybe one day I will have a Kofi donation page.

3. How do you start making a sim? What’s your process?

If it is a celebrity sim, or a sim of a fictional character like Arthur Morgan, I will always go CC shopping first! I usually start with the hair, then if the sim has particularly iconic outfits (e.g. Fran Fine) I will find as close as possible. Sometimes this is really easy, as with @plazasims RDR2 Outfits, but sometimes I have to be a little creative! Then, I always try to create the sim from Pinterest references first. I usually take a few hours away from it so I can see it again with fresh eyes, and it is usually at this point where I will introduce a photo overlay. Essentially, I will overlay an image onto The Sims 4 window and have my sim and the photo side by side. Laying the photo directly on top and ‘tracing’ is a BAD idea! You can’t see the real sim underneath! Usually looks WEIRD afterwards. If I’m feeling stuck, finding a reference on Pinterest at a 3/4 angle and editing my sim in that view helps a lot! It gives you a fresh perspective and often sorts out problems you didn’t even know you had.

4. What’s your main save?

My main save is (totally cliche, I know) actually my Simself in PlumbobKingdom’s save file! It’s INCREDIBLE, and makes the game so much more fun and interesting with the variety of locations, and everything just looks SO much nicer!

5. Who’s the favourite sim you’ve made so far?

I secretly LOVE my Maxwell Sheffield sim, I think he looks awesome. I love my Arthur Morgan Redux, too, and I’m really looking forward to making Bree Van De Kamp! Might develop it into a DH series if the response is positive enough :)

6. How do you edit your screenshots and/or do you render your sims in Blender?

I don’t render my sims in Blender, as I can’t use TS4 Sim Ripper! I am a Mac user. My photo editing process; taking screenshots in CAS using Trait poses, and photos in game using poses and @ravasheencc Full Control Camera. I then use Picsart on iOS to knock up the composition, Snapseed to clean up the photo (sharpen, colour balancing, glow, vignette etc) and Clipdrop Relight (online) for the lighting.

[ros64]

Reposted from @sassenach77yle

Italian version from : Quando accadrà dillo alle api.

Capitolo 24

NON POTEVO ANDARE A DORMIRE. Avevo dato a Fanny il suo tè, le avevo procurato degli stracci adatti – non mi sorprese affatto scoprire che sapeva già come usarli – e le parlai con gentilezza, attenta a non destare altri spettri del suo passato. Quando Fanny era venuta con noi, Jamie e io avevamo deciso di comune accordo che non avremmo cercato di interrogarla riguardo ai frammenti di ricordi che aveva condiviso ad alta voce – gli uomini malvagi sulla nave, quello che era successo al cane Spotty – a meno che non ci avesse dato l’impressione di volerne parlare. Credevo che l’avrebbe fatto, prima o poi. Anche Bree e Roger avevano acconsentito, per quanto non mi fosse sfuggita la curiosità di Brianna.

Fanny aveva nominato Jane, di tanto in tanto, con disinvoltura, ma in un modo – mi era parso – studiato per tenere viva la sensazione della sorella. Tuttavia, davanti alla sua angoscia di quella sera… avevo compreso che le era molto più vicina di quanto avessi immaginato. E adesso che avevo visto il viso di Jane… non avrei dimenticato. Le poche informazioni che avevo sulla vita delle due sorelle nel bordello di Philadelphia erano già sconvolgenti; non avevo proprio avuto il desiderio di scoprire come ci fossero arrivate. Non l’avevo nemmeno adesso… ma non riuscivo a tenere a bada le congetture che, come vermi, si erano scavate un solco nel mio cervello, e si dimenavano tutto il tempo nei miei pensieri, uccidendo il sonno. Uomini cattivi sulla nave. Un cane gettato in mare. Un cucciolo? Una famiglia – se Fanny e Jane si erano imbarcate con i genitori su una nave che poi si era imbattuta nei pirati… o addirittura un capitano malvagio, come Stephen Bonnet… Mi si rizzarono i peli degli avambracci, al pensiero di quell’uomo, ma era un ricordo pieno di rabbia, non di paura. Facile immaginare che uno come lui avesse dato un’occhiata alle due belle bambine e avesse deciso che i genitori non servivano. Faith. ���Nostra madre” aveva detto Fanny. Avevo guardato più di una volta la miniatura nel medaglione, ma era troppo piccola per mostrare qualcosa di più rispetto a una giovane donna con i capelli scuri, i ricci naturali oppure no, vestita secondo la moda dell’epoca. “No. Non può essere.” Rotolai su me stessa per la dodicesima volta, mettendomi prona e affondando il viso nel cuscino, con la speranza di perdermi nel profumo della biancheria pulita e della piuma d’oca. «Non può essere cosa, Sassenach?» mi chiese Jamie all’orecchio, assonnato e rassegnato. «E, se non può essere, non può aspettare che faccia giorno?» Mi rotolai sul fianco in un fruscio di coperte, e lo guardai.

«Mi dispiace» dissi, e lo toccai per chiedergli scusa. La sua mano afferrò la mia meccanicamente, calda e decisa. «Non mi ero resa conto di averlo detto ad alta voce. Ero… stavo solo pensando al medaglione di Fanny.» “Faith.” «Ach» disse, e si allungò un pochino, lasciandosi andare a un gemito. «Ti riferisci al nome? Faith?» «Ecco… sì. Voglio dire… non può essere… non può avere niente a che fare con…» «Non è un nome non comune, Sassenach.» Con il pollice mi accarezzò delicatamente le nocche. «Naturale che dovessi… percepirlo. È successo anche a me.» «Davvero?» dissi in un sussurro. Poi mi schiarii un pochino la voce. «Io… adesso non lo faccio più, ma per un po’, solo… di tanto in tanto… mi è capitato di pensare a lei, alla nostra Faith… così, dal niente. Immaginavo di sentirla vicina a me.» «Immaginavi come sarebbe… adulta?» Anche la sua voce era sommessa. «A me è successo, qualche volta. In prigione, soprattutto; troppo tempo per pensare, la notte. Solo.»

Emisi un gemito, e gli andai più vicina, appoggiando la testa sulla curva della sua spalla, e lui mi circondò con un braccio. Restammo immobili, in silenzio, ascoltando la notte e la casa intorno a noi. Piena perché c’era la nostra famiglia… ma anche un piccolo angelo che si librava nell’aria calma e dolce, silenzioso come un filo di fumo che si sollevava. «Il medaglione» dissi alla fine. «Non può avere alcun legame con…» «No, non può» rispose, una nota cauta nella voce. «Ma a che cosa stai pensando, Sassenach? Perché non pensi quello che hai appena detto, e lo so bene.» Era vero, e mi irrigidii in preda al senso di colpa per essere stata scoperta. «Non può essere» ripetei, e deglutii. «Solo…» Le parole mi morirono sulle labbra, e con la mano lui mi massaggiò tra le scapole.

«Be’, farai meglio a parlarmene, Sassenach. Non importa quanto sia stupido, nessuno di noi riuscirà a dormire, finché non lo fai.» «D’accordo… sai quello che mi ha detto Roger del dottore che aveva conosciuto nelle Highlands, e della luce blu?» «Sì. Cosa…» «Roger mi ha chiesto se avessi mai visto una cosa simile… mentre curavo la gente.» La mano sulla mia schiena si fermò. «E ti è successo?» Sembrava circospetto, anche se non sapevo se avesse paura di scoprire qualcosa che non voleva sapere, o di scoprire che stavo perdendo la testa. «No» dissi. «O… be’, no. Ma… l’ho vista. Sentita. Due volte. Solo un lampo, quando il bambino di Malva morì.» “Tra le mie mani, coperte dal sangue di sua madre.” «E quando partorii Faith, quando stavo male… quando stavo per morire. Allora la sentii… e arrivò Mastro Raymond.» «Questa parte me l’avevi raccontata. C’è dell’altro?» «Non lo so» dissi, onestamente. «Ma questo è quello che pensavo fosse successo.» E gli spiegai di come avessi visto le mie ossa illuminate da una luce blu che traspariva attraverso la carne delle braccia, gli descrissi la sensazione della luce che si diffondeva nel mio corpo e dell’infezione che moriva e mi lasciava debole e molle, ma intera e in via di guarigione. «Quindi… ehm… so che non è che una mera fantasia, il genere di cose che ti vengono in mente nel cuore della notte, quando non riesci a dormire…» Emise un verso sommesso, facendomi capire che dovevo smettere di chiedere scusa e andare avanti. Così presi un respiro profondo e lo feci, sussurrando le parole contro il suo petto. «Mastro Raymond era lì. E se… avesse trovato… Faith… e fosse riuscito… in qualche modo… a riportarla indietro?» Il silenzio assoluto. Io deglutii e andai avanti. «Le persone… non sempre sono morte, anche se sembra che lo siano. Guarda la vecchia Mrs Wilson! Ogni dottore sa – o ha sentito – di gente dichiarata morta che poi si è svegliata in obitorio.» «O dentro a una bara.» Il tono era cupo, e fui percorsa da un brivido. «Aye, ho udito storie del genere. Ma… una bambina nata prematura… come…» «Come non lo so!» sbottai. «L’ho detto che è solo una fantasia, che non può essere vera! Ma… ma…» Mi si chiuse la gola e la voce mi uscì come uno squittio. «Ma vorresti che lo fosse?» Mise la mano a coppa dietro la mia nuca, e la voce era di nuovo sommessa. «Aye. Ma… se lo fosse, mo chridhe, perché non dirtelo? Lo hai rivisto, no? Dopo che ti aveva guarita, intendo.» «Sì.» Rabbrividii, per un momento, e sentii la Camera Stellata del Re di Francia chiudersi intorno a me, l’odore del profumo del sovrano, del sangue di drago e di vino nell’aria, e i due uomini davanti a me, che aspettavano la mia sentenza di morte. «Sì, lo so. Ma, quando le comte morì, Raymond venne bandito e portato via. Non avrebbe potuto dirmelo in quel momento, e potrebbe non essere riuscito a tornare a Parigi prima della nostra partenza.» Suonava folle anche per me. Ma riuscivo a… vederlo: Mastro Raymond che sgattaiolava fuori dall’Hôpital des Anges dopo essere stato da me, magari defilandosi senza dare nell’occhio, per nascondersi dove le suore, forse, avevano deposto la salma di Faith avvolta in fasce. L’avrebbe riconosciuta, come con me…

«Tutti noi siamo circondati da un colore» disse semplicemente. «Tutt’intorno, come una nube. La tua è blu, madonna. Come il mantello della Vergine. Come il mio.» Uno dei suoi. Il pensiero arrivò dal nulla, e mi feci tesa. «Gesù Cristo d’un Roosevelt.» E se… d’accordo, ero folle, ma era troppo tardi perché questo facesse la differenza. «E se lui… se io, noi… se Mastro Raymond fosse… fosse stato… collegato a me in qualche modo?» Jamie non disse niente, ma sentii la mano muoversi sotto i miei capelli. Il suo dito medio si piegò e mignolo e indice si sollevarono, facendo il segno delle corna, contro il male. «E se non lo fosse?» chiese, asciutto. Mi fece scendere da lui e poi mi fece voltare così che fossimo faccia a faccia. Il buio si stava lentamente facendo meno fitto, e potevo vedere il suo viso tirato per la stanchezza, con una nota di dolore e di tenerezza, ma pur sempre determinato. «Anche se tutto quello che hai voluto pensare fosse vero, in qualche modo – e non lo è, Sassenach… lo sai… – ma, se in qualche modo lo fosse… non farebbe alcuna differenza. La donna nel medaglione di Frances è morta, e così la nostra Faith.»

Quelle parole toccarono la parte viva del mio cuore, e annuii mentre arrivavano le lacrime. «Lo so» sussurrai. «Lo so anch’io» sussurrò lui, e mi tenne stretta mentre piangevo.

Outlander 7x16 "A Hundred Thousand Angels"

I COULDN’T GO to sleep. I’d given Fanny her tea, provided her with suitable cloths—not at all to my surprise, she already knew how to use them—and talked gently to her, careful not to raise any more of her personal ghosts. When Fanny had come to us, Jamie and I had agreed that we wouldn’t try to question her about any of the bits of memory she dropped aloud—like the bad men on the ship and what had happened to Spotty the dog—unless she seemed to want to talk about them. I thought she would, sooner or later. Bree and Roger had agreed as well, though I could see how curious Brianna was. Fanny had mentioned Jane now and then, offhandedly, but in a way designed—I thought—to keep a sense of her sister alive. Seeing her distress tonight, though … Jane was much closer to her than I’d thought. And now that I’d seen Jane’s face … I couldn’t forget it. Knowing only what I did know about the girls’ lives in the brothel in Philadelphia was upsetting; I really hadn’t wanted to find out how they’d come there. I still didn’t … but I couldn’t keep the worm of speculation at bay; it had burrowed into my brain and was squirming busily through my thoughts, killing sleep. Bad men on a ship. A dog thrown into the sea. A pet dog? A family—if Fanny and Jane had been with their parents on a ship that encountered pirates … or even a wicked captain, like Stephen Bonnet

… I felt the hairs rise on my forearms at thought of him, but with remembered anger, not fear. Someone like him could easily have taken a look at the two lovely young girls and decided that their parents could be dispensed with. Faith. Our mother, Fanny had said. I’d looked more than once at the miniature in the locket—but it was too small to show anything more than a young woman with dark hair, maybe naturally curly, maybe curled and dressed in the fashion of the times. No. It can’t be. I rolled over for the dozenth time, settling on my stomach and burying my face in the pillow, in hopes of losing myself in the scent of clean linen and goose down. “It can’t be what, Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice spoke in my ear, sleepily resigned. “And if it can’t, can it not wait ’til dawn?” I rolled onto my side in a rustle of bedding, facing him. “I’m sorry,” I said, and touched him apologetically. His hand took mine automatically, warm and firm.

“I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud. I was … just thinking about Fanny’s locket.” Faith. “Ach,” he said, and stretched himself a little, groaning. “Ye mean the name. Faith?” “Well … yes. I mean—it can’t possibly … have anything to do with …” “It’s no an uncommon name, Sassenach.”

His thumb rubbed gently over my knuckles. “Of course ye’d … feel it. I did, too.” “Did you?” I said softly. I cleared my throat a little. “I—I don’t really do it anymore, but for a time, just—just every now and then—I’d think of her, of our Faith—out of nowhere. I’d imagine I could feel her near me.” “Imagine what she might look like—grown?” His voice was soft, too. “I did that, sometimes. In prison, mostly; too much time to think, in the nights. Alone.” I made a small sound and hitched closer, laying my head in the curve of his shoulder, and his arm came round me. We lay still, silent, listening to the night and the house around us. Full of our family—but with one small angel hovering in the calm sweet air, peaceful as rising smoke. “The locket,” I said at last. “It can’t possibly have anything whatever to do with—” “No, it can’t,” he said, a cautious note in his voice. “But what are ye thinking, Sassenach? Because ye’re no thinking what ye just said, and I ken that fine.” That was true, and a spasm of guilt at being found out tightened my body. “It can’t be,” I said, and swallowed. “It’s only …” My words died away and his hand rubbed between my shoulder blades.

“Well, ye’d best tell me, Sassenach,” he said. “Nay matter how foolish it is, neither one of us will sleep until ye do.” “Well … you know what Roger told me, about the doctor he met in the Highlands, and the blue light?” “I do. What—” “Roger asked me if I’d ever seen blue light like that—when I was healing people.” The hand on my back stilled. “Have ye?” He sounded guarded, though I didn’t know whether he was afraid of finding out something he didn’t want to know, or just finding out that I was losing my mind. “No,” I said. “Or not—well, no. But … I have seen it. Felt it. Twice. Just a flash, when Malva’s baby died.” Died in my hands, covered with his mother’s blood. “But when Faith was born, when I was so ill. I was dying—really dying, I felt it—and Master Raymond came.” “Ye told me that much,” he said. “Is there more?” “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But this is what I thought happened.” And I told him, about seeing my bones glow blue through the flesh of my arms, the feeling of the light spreading through my body and the infection dying, leaving me limp, but whole and healing. “So … um … I know this is nothing but pure fantasy, the sort of thing you think in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep …” He made a low noise, indicating that I should stop apologizing and get on with it. So I took a deep breath and did, whispering the words into his chest. “Master Raymond was there. What if—if he found … Faith … and was able to … somehow bring her … back?” Dead silence. I swallowed and went on. “People … aren’t always dead, even though it looks like it. Look at old Mrs. Wilson! Every doctor knows—or has heard—about people who’ve been declared dead and wake up later in the morgue.” “Or in a coffin.” He sounded grim, and a shudder went over me. “Aye, I’ve heard stories like that. But—a wee babe and one born too soon—how—” “I don’t know how!” I burst out. “I said it’s complete fantasy, it can’t be true! But—but—” My throat thickened and my voice squeaked. “But ye wish it were?” His hand cupped the back of my head and his voice was quiet again. “Aye. But … if it was, mo chridhe, why would he not have told ye? Ye saw him again, no? After he’d healed ye, I mean.” “Yes.” I shuddered, momentarily feeling the King of France’s Star Chamber close around me, the smell of the King’s perfume, of dragon’s blood and wine in the air—and two men before me, awaiting my sentence of death.

“Yes, I know. But—when the Comte died, Raymond was banished, and they took him away. He couldn’t have told me then, and he might not have been able to come back before we left Paris.” It sounded insane, even to me. But I could—just—see it: Master Raymond, stealing out of L’Hôpital des Anges after leaving me, perhaps ducking aside to avoid notice, hiding in the place where the nuns had, perhaps, laid Faith on a shelf, wrapped in her swaddling clothes. He would have known her, as he’d known me … Everyone has a color about them, he said simply. All around them, like a cloud. Yours is blue, madonna. Like the Virgin’s cloak. Like my own. One of his. The thought came out of nowhere, and I stiffened. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” What if—all right, I was insane, but too late for that to make a difference. “What if he—if I, we—what if Master Raymond is—was—somehow related to me?” Jamie said nothing, but I felt his hand move, under my hair. His middle finger folded down and the outer ones stood up straight, making the sign of the horns, against evil. “And what if he’s not?” he said dryly. He rolled me off him and turned toward me so we were face-to-face. The darkness was slowly fading and I could see his face, drawn with tiredness, touched with sorrow and tenderness, but still determined. “Even if everything ye’ve made yourself think was somehow true—and it’s not, Sassenach; ye ken it’s not—but if it were somehow true, it wouldna make any difference. The woman in Frances’s locket is dead now, and so is our Faith.” His words touched the raw place in my heart, and I nodded, tears welling. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, too,” he whispered, and held me while I wept.

24 Alarms by Night~GO TELL THE BEES THAT I AM GONE

[flintmirandas]

happy birthday sexy 😳😳🥵

thanks sexy 😳😳

[carrotcereal]

Resource farming on Io

Where’s the fucking needles

[dear-indies]

hello! i was just wondering if you could please give some suggestions for female fcs with brightly coloured hair between about 28-35 years old? thank you in advance!

Anna Diop (Titans) Senegalese.

Tessa Thompson (Sorry to Bother You) Afro-Panamanian / Mexican, English, German, Scottish, and Irish - has said that she is 'I’m attracted to men and also to women' but hasn’t chosen to label herself. 

Freema Agyeman (Sense8) Ghanaian / Iranian.

Michaela Coel (I May Destroy You) Ghanaian - aromantic. 

Macarena García (Despite Everything)

JuJu Chan (Wu Assassins) Hongkonger.

Zoë Kravitz (Kin) African-American/Afro-Bahamian / Ashkenazi Jewish.

Lali Espósito (Sky Rojo) Argentine.

Ashleigh Murray (Katy Keene) African-American. 

Nyla Rose (1982) Oneida / African-American - trans. 

Leva Bates (1983) 

Meryem Uzerli (1983) Turkish / German.

Eva Marie (1984) Mexican / Italian. 

Candice LeRae (1985) 

Our Lady J (1985) - trans. 

Olivia Dudley (1985) 

Deborah Ann Woll (1985) 

Mary Wiseman (1985) - queer.

Megan Rapinoe (1985) - lesbian. 

Neon Hitch (1986) English Romani.

Naomi / Trinity Fatu (1987) African-American. 

Cynthia Erivo (1987) Nigerian.

Juliana Huxtable (1987) African-American - trans.

Naomi Watanabe (1987) Japanese / Taiwanese.

Laura Spencer (1987) 

Meg Turney (1987) - bisexual. 

Kara Jade / Metis Monroe / The Ra11n (1987/1988) Metis of Plains Cree descent, Afro-Jamaican - bisexual.

Yeng Constantino (1988) Filipino. 

Kayden Carter (1988) Afro-Jamaican / Filipino.

Amiyah Scott (1988) African-American - trans. 

Hayley Williams (1988)

Stevie Boebi (1988) - deaf and is a lesbian. 

Mila Jam (1989) African-American - trans. 

Courtney Hope (1989)

Rina Sawayama (1990) Japanese. 

Bree Essrig (1990) - bisexual. 

Kat Blaque (1990) African-American - trans.

Io Shirai (1990) Japanese. 

Ruby Riott (1991)

Kamiya Saki (1991) Japanese. 

Harmony Santana (1991) Puerto Rican, Dominican - trans. 

Jenny Boyd (1991)

Amy Pham (1991) Vietnamese.

Alexa Bliss (1991) 

Ashley Nell Tipton (1991) Mexican. 

Haley Ramm (1992)

Jade Cargill (1992) African-American. 

Sky Ferreira (1992) Brazilian [Portuguese, possibly other] / Ashkenazi Jewish, Ojibwe, Cree, Chippewa Cree, Cheyenne, Scottish, English, Irish, French.

Sasha Banks (1992) African-American, German. 

Shotzi Blackheart (1992) Filipino.

Sasha Luss (1992) 

Beatriz Arantes (1993) Brazilian. 

Including unnatural and natural bright hair! 

[doamarierose-honoka]

Riley dances with her friends in the middle of the gym. dream productions. 🎶💃💃😍

[roocomehome]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!

honestly probably could've made an 800 page essay on people who inspire me on simblr, but these are my BIGGEST biggest inspirations :P

@minimooberry : Honestly, she's the reason why I even pursued rendering in blender and her stuff is probably the only reason why I even joined Simblr to begin with 🥹

@stellarfalls : Bree, the LEGEND, has inspired me in a lot of ways but the biggest one was her GIFS... I remember seeing her post of Rohan and Hana's first meeting and that sparked a light in my chest... I wanted oh so badly to make Gifs as good as her... I'm getting there but we all have different styles so it'll never be exact and I know my gifs will be good in their own way 🫶

@birdietrait : Their overall sim style just... idk its so good and loved it when I first saw their posts 🥹

@groovetrys : Her general editing style was a HUGE inspiration for me, I can't quite explain or pinpoint it but I LOVE her editing its sooo aesthetically pleasing

@slightly-ludic : This is a bit of a smaller detail, but I just LOVE how Jade edits her globetrotter screenshots, I love the sort of narrator perspective in the text and I've started to try and do something similar in Make the Most of It :)

@mattodore : So i've always loved being passionate about my characters (hence why Roo still exists 5 years later), but seeing River's blog and how IN DEPTH they go for Theo and Matthias (and their other OCs ofc) and how much passion they have for their characters inspired me to get more into the blood and guts of my characters, I don't think I'll ever get there exactly cuz I feel like u could ask River what Theo was doing on February 9th 2018 and they'd have an answer and I would not LMFAOO

@rebouks : I am just overall VERY inspired by Becca, but she's one of the people who got me inspired to start making more poses (albeit I was already into making my own poses, she definitely bumped that inspo) and I'm very inspired by her storytelling, its SO good and feels soooooo human

@buttertrait @miralure @acuar-io : squishing these three together because all their vibes just make me so happy and inspired or at least allowed me to feel like I can be myself in this community (mainly cuz their vibes are similar to the vibes of people I like and am friends with irl)

@torissims : her whole aesthetic is just something that I ASPIRE to have... like the vibes of her yesterday save posts are just MWAH chefs kiss man

@missatan : (nat getting all my love today damn LMAO) I don't think my renders will ever be as 8K ultra HD 5 billion pixel quality as hers, but the symbolism behind them and just how good they look have inspired me to at least WANT to do/get better at rendering

some of these might not really be classified as "inspirations" but I still felt like sharing my adoration for these people - There's SO many more people I could've @'d but felt these were my very VERY best inspirations.

I should mention that all my mutuals inspire me one way or another, the community as a whole has inspired me to be kinder and inspired me to just spout my adoration for peoples' work

[thepartingglassofthorin]

Of Prison

Bree's markets were always busy at Noon. The streets always full of merchants, merchandise, travelers, visitors and, worst of all, pick pockets. Flambard hated it, watching the children and young adults move through the crowd and silently pull coins, bracelets, and other baubles of value from unsuspecting victims. Flambard had been ordered not to intervene unless the traveler noticed.  Until then, he would watch and cringe as he saw the younglings move through the crowd. His thoughts wandered as he swung his sling around, but mostly focused around his own younglings. How grateful he was that the Guards had hired him. Hobbits here in Bree were often thought little of, if anyone noticed them.

As a fight broke out near a vendor, Flambard jumped down from his elevated view of the square and southern street, his leather squeaking against his arm guard, wet from the misting rain that had been moistening the area all week. "Outta thee way," he yelled, shoving through the big folk that had formed a circle around the fight. A few wouldn't move, so he grasped the pocket of his sling and brought the leather strings across their backsides. They moved then, normally with a yelp and a curse directed at him. "Outta thee way, Guard comen thru!" He shouted again, now swishing the leather straps of his sling back and forth, striking everyone in his way, as it sounded like the fight escalated. He could see it now, it seemed that a shorter person in a cloak and hood was either trying to get out of the crowd, or stir them up. The latter happened more often then not, Flambard growled his breath and plunged into the tussle, his sling flaying this way and that, his voice raised over the noise of the brawl, many moved away now that the officials had arrived. The shorter happened to be a dwarf, his cowl pulled low over his head, shadows covering his frightened face. Flambard stood at the edge of the fight, digging in his pouch for a stone to sling at the fighters. The other two were big folk, who didn't appear to know what they were doing; the dwarf sure did though! Flambard raised his sling and stone, whirling it over his head as he watched the three attack each other. He loosed it at the dwarf, who fell onto his back. The other two, however did not back down from fighting, they continued to barrage the dwarf. " 'AY," Flambard yelled at them, running around to face them. "I said stop," he added as he loosed another stone as he moved, this one found its way to the buttox of the man who was barraging the dwarf, he stopped with a sharp shriek and a quick movement to feel the damaged muscle. The other dropped the dwarf, he had been holding him in a way do he couldn't fight back. Not that he would, he was out cold. The one with the bruised backside sneered at the guard hobbit, still rubbing his bruise. "Oi, let us handle this monster, he's too big fer ye!" "By the authority of-" Flambard was stuck by the second man, who stood above him with a mocking sneer. Flambard landed on his elbows and knees, his head reeling from the strike. "I remember you," he growled. "You're the one who took my woman!" Flambard cringed. He remembered this bloke too. He had been apart of many thefts, armed robberies, and other crimes, while his partner was his wife. When the Guard had enough evidence to convict them both, the Magistrate gave the man a plea deal, which he gladly took over whatever sentence the Magistrate would have decreed. The woman however, wasn't as lucky. She was sentenced to ten years in prison, and two years of community service after that. The man gave Flambard a powerful kick to his ribs, knocking what little breath he had out of him. Flambard cringed, his stomach threatening to leave through his mouth as he rolled across the cobbled streets. When he stopped, Flambard reached into his pouch, grabbing his little whistle, putting it to his bloody lip and blowing a long and clear note, followed by two short. As he took a deep breath to repeat the call, the second man kicked the whistle away from him and smashed his hand against the street, giving a horrible crunch. Flambard yelled out in pain, pushing at the heavy foot covering that pinned him to the ground, tears filling his eyes from the pain. Beyond the shoe, The hobbit could see the others on the street glancing at him, then walking away. Even with the possibility of having a community mocking, they wouldn't help him. How little the big folk think of them, the hobbits! They must think of them as a nuisance, a pest even! Flambard brought his teeth down on the man's ankle, which was sharply yanked out of his grip as the human howled in angry pain, holding his bloody foot. Flambard shakily stood, his breath short and raspy. The one who had pinned him was still screaming about his foot, but the other was getting his rear end handed to him by the, still frightened, still tired, dwarf.  "OI, SCATTER!" Someone who had stuck around to watch yelled, pointing behind Flambard. The clipity clop of horse hooves emitted from the noise of the crowds behind him, along with the clanking of armor. "Master Flambard! Do you have any idea what you've done?!" The Captain paced behind his desk, a scowl wrinkling his already wrinkly face, his mustache was actually riding up his face however. Flambard wasn't sure if he was amused or enraged, it was quite hard to tell with him. The Hobbit's arm was in a cushioned sling, and he was leaned back in his chair, a cold steak on his face. How the Captain had convinced the Magistrate to give him a steak was beyond him! He could also only breath in short gasps, but otherwise he was alright.  His job, however, was on the brink of dying. "As punishment, you are restricted to jail duty until further notice," The Captain said, snarling at the hobbit. "And if any of the criminals act out, if you dare even attempt to calm them, you'll wish you were still a brewer..."  Flambard pulled his head off the back of the chair, his mouth open to give the captain a Tookish insult. Jailer's duty?! How wretchedly boring! And that was only if there were prisoners within the cells, otherwise it was making sure the armor was clean and polished, the barracks were also clean, and the fireplace was free of ash! But the fury hiding calmly behind his commander's eyes silently told him not to push further. With a tired salute, Flambard stood and shuffled to the jailer's desk, located just down the hall and a little to the left, directly opposite of the cells. They had only two prisoners today, thankfully. The woman from the crime couple had been there, but was sent to the northern jail, where she could be better taken care of as she served out her sentence.  The cell furthest away from the Jailer's desk held a small boy who had picked a wealthy dwarf with a very large red beard, Flambard remembered the beard reminded him of pig tusks. The dwarf had, at first, asked that the boy be punished harshly, he had after all, stolen a very large golden chain from him, the dwarf said it was from his father. As the child was dragged away, Flambard was asked to get the dwarf's full report, as usual. The dwarf watched as the child was taken away, a grim look on his bushy face. The first thing he said was a plea to reduce the child's punishment, he then dug io his pockets and fished out several gold coins to give to the boy once he was released. Flambard was then very glad he had been the one to get the dwarf's report, because he then gave Flambard several coins as well. The other prisoner was the dwarf that had started the fight, he was currently sleeping, stirring ever so slightly in his sleep.  The guard sitting at the table smiled at Flambard as he waked in to the room, his gaze still a little taller then the Hobbit's. "And the mighty warrior vanquishes the dragon again," he shouted, slapping his knee as he moved to stand, giving the seat and post to Flambard. "Aye, but I might have no hair left," Flambard said, gratefully taking the now empty seat. The guard laughed again, slapping Flambard's back. "But that ain't what matters Tookie, what matters is that you've-" "Shown I can handle my own, and that may get me promoted," Flambard finished with the guard, ending with a grumble. "How many times does that make it now, Stephen?! How much longer will I need to get the stuffing beat out of me?!" Before his friend could reply, the Captain walked past, casting a weary glance at the two as he passed, heading to the door at the end of the hallway that lead out to the street. As the door slammed shut, Stephen replied. "Maybe you're going about it the wrong way?"  Flambard gave him a tired glare, Stephen shrugged as he snatched his coat off the desk. "Well, I'm off to have dinner with her folks," he said, slinging his coat over his shoulder and staring dreamily into nothing. Flambard rolled his eyes, adjusting his piece of steak so it wouldn't fall off his face. "So you think she's the one," Flambard asked with a light chuckle. "Oh, absolutely," he said, emphasizing the last two syllables, pulling his open hand towards himself, closing it as it neared his chest. "She's got the most beautiful voice, I bet the Magistrate would pay her just to speak at him," here he lowered his voice, "That is, if he could hear!"  The two laughed, although Flambard was quite sure he said the same thing about the last girl. Stephen shrugged, a goofy grin on his face as he strode proudly towards the door. "Wish me luck," he called over his shoulder as he walked through the door. It shut with a loud thud as he kicked it, a habit Stephen had been warned about, but he never listened to the warnings. Flambard sighed as he leaned back in the old wooden chair, rotating his head as he settled into his chair.Three hours had gone by, he had eaten a meal with the prisoners, it happened to be the child's last one there before being released. He had stared at the golden coins as Flambard gave him instructions so he wouldn't end up back in the cells, or the stocks. The dwarf watched as the child ran out the door, he munched slowly on his gruel, and watched as Flambard shuffled back to the desk, hissing as he sat down. "Glad to see you can walk," he said, setting his half eaten bowl to the side. "What of you're hand?" Flambard looked at his bandaged hand, grimacing as he tried to move one of his fingers. "Well, Doc said it should be better, assuming he didn't completely shatter every bone, in a few months, but I can even move any fingers," He replied, pulling his mouth to one side as he lifted his hand up to show the dwarf. The dwarf's jaw rotated as he looked at the bandaged hand, the entire thing was covered and splinted, the only bit of skin on his arm between the end of the bandage and the cuff of his coat was a little green, but it otherwise looked like a hand. "My apologies," the dwarf said, standing and striding to the cell bars. "But I could have handled it."  Flambard snorted, "And I'm seven foot eight! What were you even thinking, picking a fight like that?!" The dwarf pursed his lips slightly as he thought, a dark, frightening look crossed his eyes for a moment, before turning sorrowful. "I accidentally ran into the woman behind me, her courtier over reacted." Flambard snorted again, this time a tight smile graced his round face. "Well, that sounds like a good man! Any idea who threw the first punch?" "Sir Hobbit, I know you are doing your job," the dwarf said, growing impatient, by the tone in his voice. "But I am going to be late for a very important meeting." "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Flambard said, his voice strained. "You probably cost me my yearly bonus, any use from my hand for the next quarter, and I very well might be fired because of you-" "As I said before, you shouldn't have gotten involved-" "Don't interrupt! And don't think you are getting out of that cell! You're staying there until morning, at the very least!" Silence fell between the two, only the fireplace crackled as it slowly warmed the room. The dwarf stuck his chin out and went back to the mattress in the corner of his cell, probably contemplating his actions as he rubbed his beard. Flambard stuck his own chin out and grumbled a quiet curse, directed at him, setting the steak on the desk as he moved to place more wood onto the fire.  Most of the night passed without much more, the dwarf returned to sleeping, but he didn't get much. Every time he would find sleep, he would toss and turn, grumble, at one point he even woke up crying. Flambard kept his nose in his book, trying to ignore the dwarf's stifled sobs, but it was becoming increasingly harder to do as the night passed.

TAGS: @agirlunderarock @cassiabaggins @emrfangirl @tschrist1

[mestoliefrecce]

Lasagne al Salmone e lasagne vegane di verdure

Alcuni di voi mi hanno scritto chiedendomi come mai realizzassi ricette vegane non essendolo. La risposta è che in casa viviamo in tre e abbiamo tutti esigenze differenti: il mio compagno che è un appassionato di pesce, io mangio di tutto ma ho problemi a digerire farine raffinate e poi c’è suo fratello che è vegano... difficile accontentare tutti ma in questi giorni di quarantena mi sto sbizzarrendo a provare varie ricette ed eccone due che amo particolarmente.

Lasagne al salmone

150 gr di salmone affumicato (meglio i ritagli perché più grassi e saporiti)

1 spicchio d’aglio

500 ml di besciamella (io uso la maizena al posto della farina 00 oppure la farina 1)

mezza confezione di lasagne di grano duro 

parmigiano q.b.

sale e pepe

Procediamo

Preparate la besciamella e mettetela da parte.

Scaldate un filo d’olio in una padella e aggiungete l’aglio.

Quando avrò cambiato colore aggiungete il salmone tagliato a pezzetti e fate rosolare per pochissimi minuti.

Mettete il salmone in un frullatore e passate tutto in maniera grossolana

Ora aggiungete il composto di salmone alla besciamella, aggiustate di sale e pepe e amalgamate il tutto.

Preparate le lasagne alternando pasta e besciamella al salmone

Versate la restante besciamella fino a coprire tutta la pasta, cospargete di parmigiano e, se vi piace, cubetti di bree e fiocchi di burro

Informate a 180° per 40 minuti (statico)

Lasagne vegane

300 gr di verdure miste (io ho usato piselli, broccoli, cavolfiore, cipolla, peperone, carota)

500 ml di besciamella vegana (stesso procedimento ma con latte di riso in sostituzione a quello vaccino e olio al posto del burro)

sale e pepe

pan grattato 

Procediamo

Avendo utilizzato tutte verdure commestibili anche crude non andremo a cuocerle ulteriormente.

Prepariamo la besciamella vegana e aggiungiamo le verdure scelte tagliate a piccoli pezzetti oppure frullate in maniera grossolana (non fatene poltiglia).

Aggiustate di sale e pepe 

Componete la lasagna alternando strati di pasta a strati di besciamella alle verdure.

Versate la restante besciamella fino a coprire tutta la pasta e cospargete di pan grattato

Infornate a 180° per 40 minuti (statico).

Buon appetito a onnivori e vegani!

[fenitelaminaperdue]

Materiale organico

Bree mi ha accompagnato al JFK. Non volevo ma ha insistito tanto. Odio gli addii, non so mai che dire o che fare, mi sento impacciato, odio girarmi di spalle ed andare via. Arrivati al gate mi abbraccia. mentre io resto immobile con questa marea di capelli biondi che mi ricopre il petto, mi manca l'aria, lei piange, ed io sento la colpa salire come Sartre e la sua nausea. Io ho i sensi di colpa. Mi sento in colpa anche per l'aria che respiro, per l'ambulante che vende ombrelli, per i turni da 12 ore del MC Donald. Mi sento in colpa per non riuscire ad andare oltre. Bree singhiozza. Le lacrime le rigano il viso, le alzo la testa ne prendo una con le dita  la lecco. Ho sempre avuto questa cosa di assaggiare le lacrime degli altri. Sentire che gusto ha il dolore, ognuno ha il suo sapore. Bree il tuo è quasi dolce, è vorrei che questa ossessione mi lasciasse lo spazio per lasciarti entrare. Ma niente. L'ossessione occupa tutto me. Anzi va anche oltre. Mi guarda e mi chiede, cosa ti hanno fatto? Bree tu sei una empatica come lo ero io. Tu senti tutto, come me fino a qualche tempo fa. Mi hanno estirpato la mia empatia. Non sento più niente. Mi sono scordato la meraviglia. Tu saresti stata una meraviglia, ma io non ti vedo. Non vedo più il dolore dell'uomo costretto a dormire a terra avvolto nel cartone, non vedo più la felicità di quelli che si tengono per mano e parlano fitto del nulla, non vedo la bellezza nel sole che si alza, nelle onde del mare, nel profumo di salsedine quando a giugno andavo in spiaggia. Niente.Tutto ora mia  cara Bree è solo materia che si disgrega, lentamente. Un uomo a terra e' materiale organico in decomposizione, due che si tengono per mano sono solo un casuale incontro di chimica, il mare ed i suoi odori un semplice composto di materie. Ha rubato la parte migliore di me ed ha lasciato qui un pezzo di carne inutile. Parto Bree. Mi calo le mie appariscenti cuffie rosse sulla testa che funzionano come lampeggiante su una utilitaria di marca infima. Dicono, guardatemi anche se sono invisibile, anche se sono assente. Parto con il mio miglior amico in questo momento, me stesso.” I'm taking a ride. With my best friend .I hope he never lets me down again” . I Depeche Mode me lo sussurrano con un basso potente. 

[drawmaticfanatic]

Fabrizio The Cat in Overalls

A drawing for my 2-year-old toddler who loves picture books like Richard Scarry and Dr. Seuss. This drawing sent him into an absolute giggle-fit, so I'd say it was a success! :D

Stuck without internet for a weekend, so I doodled this on my phone with vectors. Someone else did the honor of naming him "Fabrizio", apparently pronounced "Fah-bree-tsee-oh" not "Fabreeze-io" as I had assumed.

[grouchality]

Cari Recchioni e Chiaverotti, io vi ringrazio eh, anche perché a me i crossover piacciono, quelli di Dylan in particolare.

Se poi mi ci aggiungete Bree ancora viva (quanto amo il numero 88) io sono soddisfattone.

Però vi avverto: se me la ammazzate di nuovo io vengo lì e VI MANGIO IL CUORE!