wee houses

I’m FINALLY happy to announce that I had the treat of illustrating the brand new paperback editions of Sir Terry Pratchett’s Tiffany Aching adventures. This job was truly an honour, and it’s the first time a female artist has illustrated a book by Terry Pratchett! Hurrah!
The first book ‘The Wee Free Men’ will be released April 27th.


current sexual orientation: even-more-than-usually-dishevelled-Columbo

Diamond City’s littlest detectives

Wee Shadow.

A wee one shot of Jamie and Claire fluff + Jem and Mandy because why not? :) xx

With Bree and Roger both sick, Jem and Mandy had been dispatched to stay with their grandparents. It was an arrangement that suited everyone, particularly Jem, who was all but glued to his beloved Grandda’s side from the moment he entered the house.

“You’re sure you don’t feel at all unwell?”

“No Grannie. I feel fine.”

“I heard you coughing outside.”

“I just kicked up some dust running back to the house. Ye did tell me to hurry…”

The note of accusation was distinct and not lost on Claire who had plenty experience with the Fraser capability for Machiavellian tenacity and was not fazed in the least.

“I did, but only because it is freezing out there and the last thing I need is another flu patient.”

She smiled as Jem narrowly resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pressed her hand to his forehead. Warm, but then he always was, just like Bree and Jamie, Jem seemed to have a natural furnace.

“You haven’t got a headache or a sore throat?”

Claire stepped back and put her hands on her hips surveying her grandson who was now fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot with impatience.

“No Grannie, I promise.”

There was a tap on the door and Jamie’s head popped into view. Jem gave him a discreetly pleading look, hoping for saviour as Claire began prodding at his throat again, feeling for swollen glands.  Jamie clucked his tongue sympathetically and stepped into the room, ducking slightly as he passed under bunches of drying herbs hanging from the rafters.

“Sassenach, I promise if he keels over I’ll call ye immediately.”

Jamie smiled, sliding himself between them. Claire frowned as she looked up at her husband.

“You shouldn’t be in here! If Jem is incubating the virus …”

“Then I may have it from last night when he arrived or from eating breakfast beside him this morning or possibly from picking up his stockings from the parlour floor, which I mean to enquire about presently anyway.”

“Sorry Grandda, I forgot to take them upstairs wi’ me…”

Jamie turned and gave Jem a level look down the length of his nose and a slow blink that passed for a wink.

“Aye weel, I’ve left them on the stair and ye may take them up to ye room and fold them properly away in your dresser. Now if ye please.”

Jamie’s tone was stern but there was a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and Jem realised that far from scolding him, his Grandda was in fact offering him an escape from the surgery.

“Aye Grandda.”

“But …”

Claire began at the same time as Jamie jerked his chin in the direction of the door. Jem took the opportunity and scarpered, dodging around the far side of his Grannie’s work bench to avoid any further prodding

“Thank ye Grannie, I’ll let ye ken if I feel a bit poorly.”

He called and shut the door firmly behind him.

Claire blinked at the door for a moment and then sighed in defeat.

“Dinna take it hard Sassenach, there are many men who would long for your ministrations. Myself for one.”

Jamie grinned but Claire poked an accusing finger at his chest before pointing at the bench.

“Fine, then sit. And don’t think for a second I believe that you care where a pair of stockings are left.”

Jamie obligingly settled himself on the bench and loosened his stock, exposing the pale skin of his throat, adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Actually I do.”

Jamie squirmed as Claire’s fingers, deliberately chilly, felt for signs of swelling beneath his jaw

“No’ enough to make a fuss but the lad is old enough to put his clothes away wi’ out reminding.”

“I think he does normally,”

Claire murmured absent-mindedly, pausing to run her fingers over a certain area again, distinguishing between the rasp of red-gold stubble beneath her fingers and the sign of illness she challenged to be there.

“He probably dumped them because he heard you come into the house. Yon wee shadow.”

Claire smiled, gently mimicking the way Jenny had put it when she had seen the two red-heads together. Jamie retied his stock and ducked his head, trying not to appear too pleased to hear Jem referred to as such.

Claire made as if to inspect his ears and Jamie caught her hand deftly, turning her to be seated on his lap.

“That’s enough o’ that. I’m healthy as I ever have been and have ye to thank for it Sassenach. Stop prodding me, eh? Or at least prod in more satisfying places.”

“And wear exactly should I be prodding, hmmm?”

Claire leant forward, her fingers still encased in Jamie’s large palm, and ran her teeth along the edge of his jaw, gently nipping his chin. Jamie made a sound, not dissimilar to that of a bull readying for the charge and his thighs tightened beneath her.

“Have I just found a new erogenous zone Mr Fraser?”

“I wouldna say that … though I do find your teeth on me a wee bit stirring…”

Jamie’s breath came up short as Claire’s tongue dipped beneath the knot of his stock and traced the faint blue line of a vein, her teeth barely touching him this time.

“But it reminds me … it reminds … Christ!”

Jamie lifted her from his body and stood in the same fluid motion, bending to kiss his wife as thoroughly as he wished to before straightening to his full height, neck safely out of her reach as a sprig of drying thyme tickled his ear.

“You were saying?”

“I was trying to say,”

Jamie smiled wryly,

“That having ye on my lap as ye were just then, distracted and more interested in the medical state o’ my body than anything besides, it reminded me of the first night we met.”

“And that is a pleasant memory is it?”

Claire teased trying to keep her tone light, thinking back to that cold and violent Scottish night and narrowly avoiding a shudder.

“Weel, the meeting of ye is a pleasant memory aye but … I was terrified if truth be told and had ye not come along when ye did …”

“Dragged by Murtagh…”

Jamie waved this off as if her virtual kidnap was neither here nor there and continued

“I dinna ken that I would have made it through the night.”

“It wasn’t a fatal wound!”

Claire laughed, thinking of the bayonet wound on his torso and the way the blood had soaked into his shirt, so startling against the white linen and how it was the sight of this that finally jolted her into awareness of her new reality.


Jamie smiled

“It wasna a fatal wound but I was so verra scared, Sassenach. I thought my arm likely broken and although Murtagh was wi’ me, I kent well enough that had Dougal seen opportunity for it, he’d do away wi’ the both of us. So there I was, unable to defend myself, unable to protect my kinsman and just waiting for a dirk to slip betwixt my ribs and fearful that I might die wi’out ever goin’ home and then … then you were there.”

Claire listened to the soft lilt of his voice, the gentle dip in resonance that accompanied his thought of her and the lifting smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes and realised that she was once again on his lap on the bench, although she had no memory of moving.

“Ye centred me from the verra first moment I saw ye. Gave me a pretty face to focus on and a neutral party to speak to; ye made me remember that I was more than just a wanted man and unwanted guest.”

Jamie stroked his index finger down her jaw, lightly pinching her chin between his thumb and finger as if holding a delicate glass ornament up to the light for inspection.

“Ye saved me and didna even ken it, wouldna ha’ cared if I told ye either, fierce wee thing ye were.”

Jamie grinned and gently leant forward, this time meeting Claire’s lips as she reached for him, soft and familiar and warm.

“I would never have known you were scared. You seemed so brave to me. Foolish, but brave.”

“And so I was!”

Jamie smiled as the breath of their laughter mingled.

“Ye have always given so verra much mo nighean donn, ye gave me courage, then love, then family… ye ha’ given me all the verra best parts of my life.”

“As have you. Jamie I …”


The surgery door burst open and Mandy, grasping Esmerelda under one arm, stood in a riotous cloud of curls and determination.

“He’s coughing! We have to give him medicine!”

Mandy said firmly, heedless of the moment she had interrupted

“Alright love, lead the way.”

Claire smiled, holding out a hand to her grand-daughter.

“Yon wee shadow, was it?”

Jamie called after them, smiling to himself at the answering chuckle that echoed back to him.

i only have 3 posts in my queue for tomorrow oops! i really need to get in game sorry bros.


turn: washington’s spies moodboards + modern benjamin tallmadge and nathan hale

HUFFLEPUFF: “The secret is not to dream,“ she whispered. "The secret is to wake up. Waking up is harder. I have woken up and I am real. I know where I come from and I know where I’m going. You cannot fool me any more. Or touch me. Or anything that is mine.” –Terry Pratchett (Tiffany Aching: The Wee Free Men)


A few of these have already appeared on my blog no doubt…but again these are some elements I would like to incorporate in my design…

The Sleeping Lofts shown here are definitely my preferred style…I really don’t think I could get down with the tent-like double pitched roof style. 
A simple but cute kitchen, lots of plants, a cosy composting loo and a nice flow throughout and I’m a happy girl :)


Highland Road Trip by Andrew Lockie
Via Flickr:
Explored 29th Oct, 2013 Highest position #2

Bills || Ned and Cat {The Wee House}


Catelyn felt the worry gnaw at her, tension creeping in at the fingertips, the tiny bean-sized baby already growing inside her causing as much concern as it caused joy. They couldn’t afford a second child, they just couldn’t. Robb did without enough as it was already….she and Ned had both grown up with everything they could want, the comfort of a large stately home in an ancient castle, titles, prestige and the reassurance that money would never be an issue. Robb had to make do with school shoes bought on sale, and school jumpers three sizes too big so that he would grow into them, as they couldn’t keep affording to buy brand new. 

She pulled down on the thread of sleeve of her cardigan. It was an atrocious shade of olive and far too thick a knit for her liking, but it had been in a charity shop for mere pennies, and she had needed a cardigan. The old one had worn away, and with the heating broken again she couldn’t keep using Ned as a comforter.

She and Ned were bowed over the tiny square table in the room which doubled as both dining room and living room, looking at numbers and bills and papers. They had to afford the new child, they had to…it was just about finding a way. She picked up a piece of lukewarm toast and nibbled on the end thoughtfully. 

“There’s an opening at Robb’s primary school. They need a dinner lady, two hours every day” She told him, “I’d have to leave for maternity leave eventually, but we could save the money, put it aside…that might help a little”

muse a and muse b were long friends even before they got famous, muse a was a rising dramatic actress, while muse b was the lead guitarist of a band. they have a lot of common friends, that’s the reason why they spend a lot of time together, they get along well too, maybe because they have a lot in common, both are working hard for the careers. only a few people know that they actually started dating, but it halted when muse a got a lead role on a tv show and muse b’s band signed a deal with a big label. now, they’re both on top of their games, muse a and muse b started seeing each other again. but it seems like things were not as simple as before, there are a lot of rules, they shouldn’t be seen in public together, no one should know the real status of their relationship, muse a’s management starting a rumor that she is with her love interest in the show she is doing, and there’s those nonstop, never-ending talks about how muse b sleeps with a lot of girls. but they’re both aware that those aren’t true, though a lot has changed, they’re both into each other as they were before. but things are just harder now, like muse b would like to spend time with muse a, but he cannot do that unless he drives into her house in wee hours or how muse a would try to put on some disguise so she could attend his concert.


The Wee House. Beautiful and cozy treehouse build by a carpenter Dave Herrle for his wife. It was built in six weeks mostly from salvaged materials; therefore it costed only $4000. The rustic interior and the highlight of it - colourful ceramic sink makes this treehouse one of a kind. Located in Westbrook, Connecticut. 

“I remember you” by Charlie Parker,
Finds out
Where masturbation took off
In this the wee hours in my house,
Many times over
Damn I love jazz
But I love it’s men
Who were all total individuals
They were intellectuals
Thought things,
You see
As it is
How can you have anything
When those you prop up
Align themselves with
The values of bourgeois
White culture
While maintaining
Lumpenproletarian ethos
So cheers to my idiot Uncle
Who dared to make me a rapper
Those vile,
Who come from
Pimps, drug dealers, prostitutes etc
Cheers to my idiot Uncle
Among the many dreams he had
Has to tolerate
A homosexual son,
No wonder why he
Flew to live vicariously through me,
Oh Jesus
And his son
Is New Orleans flamboyant
A total dandy,
If there ever was one,
A Culero ultra
Which reminds me
The other day
Veronica and Vanessa said
They had bisexual male friends
God damn
Then they said female,
Which prompted me to say
Well I expect that,
You can get women to do anything
I once saw this bitch
And immediately I said
Yeah I can get money out of that bitch,
But you can get them to do anything
Because evilness is natural to them
They partake in evilness
As a way to rebel
Whatever it is
I see it
It’s something inherent they’re refusing,
See it’s all equations
That’s why I don’t dispute
The monotheistic God,
I don’t believe in it,
Better yet
I never try to encounter it,
But I don’t doubt it’s will,
As all
The Angel Gabriel met
God’s power onto the world
And there’s no denying it,
I don’t deny
Whatever it’s done
Through whomever
So I listen to
Jews, Christians, and Muslims
I listen,
Just enough anyway,
Which is weird
As my ancestors were Jews,
And according to the Christians
And Muslims
The Jews when presented with
Just acknowledging
God’s latest message
Always denied,
You see they forgot
That life
And God increases bits
At the right time
To try to move shit along,
Truth is,
Each faction should’ve accepted
Each other as that,
As just another
Step in the same direction
But they didn’t
And they don’t
So God has totally stopped
Sending people,
You try meditating on it
You’ll see,
It’s been stopped
Because you don’t take shit at face value
You don’t listen
You just act,