Ci sono momenti, nella vita di tutti, dove niente è al suo posto, dove desideriamo una cosa, ne facciamo un’altra, ma forse no, quella che facciamo è esattamente quella che desideriamo: però ci è impossibile ammetterlo.
Insomma, è tutto un disastro perché siamo, un disastro
—  Chiara Gamberale - L’amore quando c’era
Terra (and all who’d ever share her)

In this land –
           Trees drink tea from
           Fleshy cups,
           Smile and sunlit splendor.

And in this land,
           The smog’s sore eyes,
           Shed Amazonian breath;
           Damning spire and sinister alike.

It’s in this land –
           That fish smash dams,
           Sands smash man,
           And society’s only to smolder;

But in this land –
           She persists; the world,
           The kind, the wonder, the kindred,
           And all who’d ever share her.

     - L.C.

helLO my lovelies!!! Alright so last night we hit 3k!!! and i’m !!! excited !!! thank you all so so much (again)! Having this blog is something that i love/enjoy and having so much support makes it 10x better. 💖 So to thank you all and celebrate this milestone I decided to do some name edits and url edits!

 (info under the cut)

Keep reading

🍼 how to make onesies 🍼

I see lotsa people who can’t get onesies bc their parents won’t let them or don’t know they regress so here’s a thing you can do yourself!

🐝 buy a shirt that’s too big with a design you like

🐝 put it on and mark with pins where your legs start (be careful not to get hurt!)

🐝 sew together the other part or for a temporary one you can use safety pins!

🍼 DONT INTERACT IF UR: k!nk, c/g/l(re), any variation, or a supporter 🍼

Pourquoi t'es si accrochée à lui ?
‘Fin pourquoi tu veux pas être comme tout le monde, décroche s'il t'aime pas et préfère te blesser, parce que te détruire est la seule chose qui le rend heureux.
Ouais je sais, ça te tue qu'il n'éprouve aucune culpabilité sur ta longue et acide souffrance. Mais justement, ça te tue, putain, arrête s'il te plaît. Si c'est pas lui qui te le dit, c'est moi. Je te connais pas mais, ça fait un point dans le coeur, de voir une fille qui lutte contre les larmes H24. De toute façon, du moment que quelqu'un sourit un peu trop, paraît un peu trop heureux, il y a forcément un problème.
Vas-y, lâche l'affaire, c'est même plus lui qui te détruit, c'est toi toute seule.
Et je te jures, qu'après ce sera trop tard.
—  les larmes au coeur

tender--age--in--plume  asked:

...True end?

The Good, the Bad, and the UGLY - c l o s e d

Mohn was smiling, laughing even as he bent close to the waters in the Conservatory to playfully splash the Corsola and stroke the glowing gems of the neighboring Starmie. The other chirps, peeps, and growls of Pokemon would divert his attention every which way until he could manage to see them all. Conservatory workers murmured besides themselves some respectful distance away at the sight of the President stripped of the usually tightly fit and pristine Presidental dressings and instead be dressed down in his casual. The lab coat, ruffled coral red knee shorts, and simple white shirt tied off with a scarlet shawl wrapped loosely around his neck was something the others rarely see least he was doing outside field work. Hardly was it appropriate wear for business inside of Aether’s walls. 

“Well don’t just stare at me all day. Stare at the Oricorio over there! They could use some more pollen; they’re not coming into transformation comfortably!” Mohn finally broke the nervous circle of workers with a laugh and a loose hand shooing them away save for one who was brave enough to come to his side.

     “President Mohn sir…? You’re uhm-…alright?

“Alright? Better than alright! 

He bore a wide grin with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Ah so he was causing a stir wasn’t he? They expected a barely kept together man stowed away in silence in his office stuffed in the usual Aether decorations after the weeks of fragile peace. The threats, the lockdown, the bullet-“Stitches came out, made peace with Team Skull and their administrators, my kids are doin’ alright and the misses and I have been…hm, on very very good terms lately.”

Too much info? Probably. The employee seemed like they already regret asking. Mohn was so outwardly content he’d proclaim it to anyone unfortunate enough to ask. 

“Cant be wearin’ my suit ‘till I get tailored. I’ll give that Skull boy somethin’; he was a very good shot. So good was the bullet’s impact that they’re quite unsure if the suit can even be saved with how the bullet ripped up the fabric and stitchings. Not to mention the blood stains on white, eugh. Might need a new one. But till then I can’t be walkin’ around naked can I? Miss Lusamine doesn’t like to share. AHAH!!!”

More embarrassment for the poor employee. Mohn wasn’t sparring them any grief.

“But I ain’ too upset over it. I prefer this over somethin’ I gotta try and fit in everyday. Besides I’m feelin’ a little out of the loop with actual work. Goodness! When did we add in the Komala habitat?? Did I miss that? Wonder what’s going on in the labs? I’ll have to check that out later today!” 

“….? Are you still here? Hah! I’d have walked away after hearing me blabber on like that! Good show! To put it simply, I’m doing better than alright in a long while. C’mon, how about you catch me up on things? And please, just Professor Mohn. ‘President Mohn’ is kinda not doin’ it for me lately.” Finally he kept quiet enough to let the frazzled employee walk ahead to bring him to other Conservatory matters. 

Mohn was right where he wanted to be. He missed letting his hands work, his mind wander, and overall just…being connected with the passion here at Aether. The scar on his side from where the bullet hit didn’t concern him anymore. In his usual optimism it was just a reminder that out of all bad things comes the good. Aether and Skull were on better terms, he’s made perspective he thought he’d never have with people he once figured bad, and better yet…

   He was here.

     He was here with his passion and family.

   That’s all that mattered and nothing was going to take him away from it.  

Ti rivivo in questo sogno, come succede solo quando la notte vuole farmi male. E non capita da tantissimo.
Mi tremano le ginocchia, come quando scendevo o scendevi dal treno.
Due frasi sarcastiche e quel sorriso bastano, come sempre d'altronde.
Mi baci.
Ti bacio.
E non riesco a sentire altro se non la tua pelle, come se fosse la mia e anche mia.
Siamo in una camera d'albergo, per l'inconscio c'è solo l'imbarazzo della scelta su quale.
Le mani e il cuore sono dappertutto.
Mi basta un sogno così, nostalgico e distruttivo per riamarti.
Mi sveglio, umida dagli occhi in giù.
Che darei per vederti un'ultima volta.

30 jours pour écrire, jour 5 / La beauté est tout autour de nous et en nous.

La beauté c’est
tes yeux ta bouche tes mains ta nuque ta taille tes hanches.
La beauté tu la dégueules quand tu me dis encore et encore combien tu l’aimes et comme elle est douce quand elle se tord dans ton lit, c’est ta voix quand tu parles de partir pour ne jamais revenir, c’est le ciel rose de vingt-deux heures et le rayon vert à l’horizon que tu guettes en comptant chaque seconde, c’est faire la planche sur la mer en pleine nuit, te laisser porter par les vagues timides et parler aux étoiles, c’est la route qui serpente vers la Méditerranée, c’est l’ombre du cerisier, c’est mamie qui raconte les souvenirs du lavoir, c’est un poème lu à haute voix pour ton oreille attentive.
La beauté c’est prendre la route avec eux, c’est ta silhouette qui continue à danser quand toi, tu restes immobile, c’est une nuit entière à s’aimer en silence, c’est l’équilibre précaire de ton corps sur son corps, c’est une pluie de confettis sur ton sourire, c’est décider d’être belle pour toujours.
La beauté c’est
toi moi elle vous nous eux.
La beauté, tu vois, c’est l’écouter me parler de la musique qu’il écoute, le souvenir de tes pieds qui tremblent sur la slackline posée entre deux palmiers, le mot au hasard qui se dépose juste au bon moment, le sourire d’un gosse dans le métro, cet homme qui jongle en fermant les paupières, mon pied entre tes cuisses parce que je meurs de froid, la coïncidence des amours folles, un éclair qui déchire le ciel, la pluie sur la terre trop chaude, une main sur une épaule, c’est faire comme si. 
La beauté c’est ce qui t’animes, la passion entre tes doigts, la fièvre dans ton regard, ton cœur qui bat encore, ton corps qui, pour nos yeux, se fait tableau en mouvements, ton sourire quand tu sais que tu racontes des bêtises et tes yeux au tout petit matin, tes mains concentrées, une lèvre que tu mords, tes sourcils que tu fronces sans même t’en rendre compte, la mèche de cheveux qui retombe sur ton front, la fumée qui s’échappe de ta bouche entrouverte, tes deux bras qui s’ouvrent en grand, tes fesses dans une culotte en dentelles, les veines en filigrane sous ta peau fine, la chaleur de nos corps qui se serrent pour ne plus jamais tomber.

anonymous asked:

that art you did of the cyclops & the person- i dont know their names im sorry- is absolutely GORGEOUS just- just gorgeous l i k e h o l y c r a p w o w a m a z i n g. also the cyclops's eye gives that uncanny valley effect which rlly just adds to how amazing it looks with the fact it gives off that feeling, amazing, amazing, amazing, absolutely gorgeous thank you for all the inspiration you've given🌙✨✨✨💣💥✨✨✨🌙

ghhhghhgfhgfhgh thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!