catastic

10

The Cannery

Looking for the purrfect palace for your pets of the feline persuasion? Well look no further. This renovated Tuna Fish Cannery is exactly what you’re looking for.  It’s Catastic, and has everything your gaggle of furry friends could possible want. There are plenty of spots for naps and sunbathing, lots of birds to look at, and mice to chase, as well as a ton of counter space so they can practice their kitty parkour.

This one bedroom, one and a half bath (bushes count right?) home features a full gourmet kitchen for whipping up those custom cat meals and treats your kitties will enjoy. And if owning 7 cats isn’t enough, this home attracts every stray cat in the neighborhood.

You can find this lot in my SimDoughnut gallery using the hashtags #cats #cannery or #tuna. There is no CC to worry about, but I strongly advise you turn on the “moveobjects” cheat prior to placing it on a lot.  As an added bonus I’ve also shared my crazy cat dude Alchemy Bartholomew and his gaggle of furry feline friends. I hope you enjoy the build.

Have Fun :)!

lunar-virginia  asked:

"Do you mind telling me why the hell you are standing on my balcony at 3AM?"

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“Do you mind telling me why the hell you are standing on my balcony at 3AM?” Marinette seemed annoyed. I mean, of course she would be. As she had pointed out, I had showed up unannounced to a (supposed) stranger’s house in the middle of the night. I had probably woken her up; she seemed to be fighting to stay awake even as she stood there, clad in polka-dotted pajamas with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. Ugh this was a mistake, I thought. I should probably just leave. I don’t even know why I came here for comfort. 

“Hey alley cat, I asked you a question! Why are you here?” Marinette demanded, or tried to demand. It was hard to sound angry with all the yawning punctuating her speech. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. But uh…I can take a hint so…” I cut off my sentence to avoid letting out a sob I hadn’t realized I was suppressing. With a sigh I turned my back to her and extended my staff, preparing to vault to some other roof and process…this information…without annoying anyone. 

“Wait!” Marinette suddenly exclaimed. I froze. She awkwardly looked at her feet, as if unsure whether or not to say something.  “I know I just told you to leave and I barely know you but I have to ask…are you doing okay?”

Was I really being that transparent? I supposed I owed her an explanation at least. After all, it was strange for a superhero to suddenly drop by a stranger’s house in the middle of the night for no reason. But that was another thing. As far as Marinette knew, I was a stranger. Why would she care about my problems? And this…this was something I couldn’t tell her without revealing who I was. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that. I should have been telling this to Ladybug, not Marinette. I’ll play it off so I can leave, and then I’ll call Ladybug and let her know.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Sorry again, and have a good night.” I turned to leave once again.

“You’re fine,” Marinette repeated. “Not purrfect? Not catastic? Clawsome? I’m calling bullshit. You’ve been here a solid minute and you haven’t made a single pun.”

I gave a humorous chuckle. I guess nothing gets past Mari. “I guess I’m just not in the mood,” I said.

“You make puns as you’re cheating death,” Marinette countered. “Again, I’m calling bullshit. Come inside and tell me what’s wrong.” I got the gut feeling that resisting would be futile, so I put away my weapon and followed her inside.

Marinette pulled out her desk chair, which was presumably for me, but I felt too awkward to sit down. I felt like I was invading her privacy by being her, like I was deceiving her. Are you forgetting that you’re the one who came here in the first place? I remembered Nino telling me that I needed to tell others about things that were bothering me, and this strange new revelation was definitely…bothering me. Understatement of the century, Agreste.

Marinette sat on her bed, looking at me expectantly. Despite her annoyed tone and harsh words earlier, there was genuine concern in her eyes. For whatever reason, she seemed to care about my well-being, even though she didn’t know me, not really. There was no reason for me to tell her. I was already on the verge of a serious breakdown, and I was sure even telling her, accepting what I’d just found out would push me over the edge. There was no reason for me to tell her. “You need to talk to people, Adrien,” Nino’s voice rang in my head. “It doesn’t even have to be me. But you can’t bottle up all your hurt and expect it to go away.” There was no reason for me to tell her. I should run. I should forget. I should do anything but tell my random classmate, even if she was caring, trustworthy, kind, and willing to listen. There was no reason for me to tell her.

“I know who Hawkmoth is.”
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Bet you were expecting fluff! Well I don’t always roll like that ;).

Prompts are open! Feel free to drop me a prompt of any kind and I take a whack at it!

Da qui si doveva cominciare: il cielo.
Finestra senza davanzale, telaio, vetri.
Un’apertura e nulla più,
ma spalancata.

Non devo attendere una notte serena,
né alzare la testa,
per osservare il cielo.
L’ho dietro a me, sottomano e sulle palpebre.
Il cielo mi avvolge ermeticamente
e mi solleva da sotto.

Perfino le montagne più alte
non sono più vicine al cielo
delle valli più profonde.
In nessun luogo ce n’è più che in un altro.
La nuvola è schiacciata dal cielo
inesorabilmente come la tomba.
La talpa è al settimo cielo
come il gufo che scuote le ali.
La cosa che cade in un abisso
cade da cielo a cielo.

Friabili, fluenti, rocciose,
infuocate ed eteree,
distese di cielo, briciole di cielo,
folate e cataste di cielo.
Il cielo è onnipresente
perfino nel buio sotto la pelle.

Mangio il cielo, evacuo il cielo.
Sono una trappola in una trappola,
un abitante abitato,
un abbraccio abbracciato,
una domanda in risposta a una domanda.

La divisione in cielo e terra
Non è il modo appropriato di pensare a questa totalità.
Permette solo di sopravvivere
a un indirizzo più esatto,
più facile da trovare,
se dovessero cercarmi.
Miei segni particolari:
incanto e disperazione.

— 

Wislawa Szymborska, Vista con granello di sabbia, Adelphi edizioni

miei segni particolari, incanto e disperazione