Summer Dreams (1915)
Sergei Arsenevich Vinogradov
Also occasional liveblogs of books by a completely amazing bastard called Dorothy Dunnett.
Userpic is by somewhatmeretricious.
I’m about 2/3 of the way through Caprice and Rondo, and having all kinds of contradictory feelings about Gelis. I do love that she’s finally doing business on her own two feet and fixing Nicholas’s damage while she’s doing it, but I also hate that she’s still around and picking up the pieces instead of BAMFing off into the sunset to start her own trading firm in Morocco or somewhere. Also, she scares me more than Nicholas does.
Red Velvet Cake With Marshmallow Icing | Donna Hay
Or, once upon a time I wrote everything but the porn in a Ferris Bueller/Sloane/Cameron fic. Since I’m probably never going to get around to writing the porn (true life: writing porn is my least favorite), I figured I might as well put it up, WIP-amnesty style. If anyone would like to chime in WITH the porn, y’all can feel free to round-robin this bitch or otherwise add to it. :D?
Cameron has, for as long as he can remember, divided the shit he worries about into two distinct categories. Category A is for low grade, wouldn’t-even-be-a-problem-for-normal-people worries: did he leave the stove on that time he went out three years ago and came back to find his mother upset for reasons she wouldn’t divulge? Did he miss question 5b on the U.S. History exam because he answered it accurately, but probably not the way Mrs. Applebaum wanted it answered, if the American Patriot bumper sticker on her car is anything to go by? Is it possible his hairline is already receding, and, if so, are there treatment options that don’t radically increase the chance that his hairline will be receding if he tries them? Etcetera.
Ferris calls Category A the “Jesus Christ, Cameron, don’t sweat it, lighten up a little, will you? It’s a beautiful day,” category. Or he would, if Cameron were willing to tell him about the categories.
Category B, then, is for the whoppers. Category B might as well be called the “Oh fuck,” category; Category B is for things like getting caught drinking by Ferris’s mom, or accidentally driving his father’s Ferrari out the window, or setting half the school on fire in a Ferris-related Home Ec disaster. If Ferris knew about the categories, he’d call Category B, the “Alright, calm down, buddy, we’ll figure something out,” category, since that’s Ferris-speak for I’m stalling for time, I’m stalling for time, if I stall for enough time the heavens will open and the universe will handily present me with a solution and won’t even ask for a tip.
And it will, too. That’s just Ferris.
We had a wonderful time in Norberg but there is no place like home and we really missed this sweet long-nosed creature <3
#koira #borzoi #sighthound #summertime #hammock #dog #scratchme #balcony #balkongliv #dogsofinstagram
more bear owls
based on my favorite owls <3
everything’s so funny when u use the wrong measurement:
- 5 gallons of homework
- mouthful of lint
- 20 degrees of facial oil
- 7 pints of china
- handful of fergi
- 60 mph of dad
I was trying to describe how small my friend’s driveway was and the words were not coming to me and I sincerely called it “45 cents wide”
Bronzino, detail, Portrait of a Young Man (1530s)
magic girls fallen stars
they are the cosmos come to rest in bodies of flesh and bone, with supernova eyes and black hole hearts, entire universes trapped inside. sometimes the stars leak through and worlds drip from their fingers like blood. they are careless destruction incarnate, all the secrets of space bound to earth in a form that can barely contain them, and even then not for long.