#clarasimone

If you haven’t heard already, @clarasimone​‘s account has been suspended. What I’m guessing is that whatever script (probs the same one as porn bot) this site is using, it might have mistaken all of the IG stuff on her blog as adult content or something. My other theory is that someone might have hacked her account and did something that got her account banned. It’s possible since I’ve seen it happen before. 

As we all know @clarasimone​ has contributed to our smol little fandom in more ways than one. It definitely wouldn’t be the same without her. So I think the least we can do to try and give back to all the wonderful things she’s done for our tiny corner is to support her. I believe we can send a calm and professional email to [email protected] as she has already to help her appeal and hopefully lift her ban. Doesn’t have to be long at all. 

i have! 

  every inch of you is perfect from the ...

@obviously had to stand THIS close cause the producers couldn’t afford long shots and showing too much of the set. Hum and the soft lighting saved on electricity. And they’re looking at each other like that cause they can’t remember their lines. ������

@clarasimone you are already shipping these two like a pro and I am SO here for it!  

Clearly Kate couldn’t find her contacts and had to use Robert here as a sort of mobility aid to help her keep her bearings by continually touching him ;)

Sooooooo true ! To anyone with eyes and a chemistry kit ��

Coming soon, a fanfic freely inspired by The Last Front, an upcoming film starring IAIN GLEN

by @clarasimone

She felt loved.

In his arms.

In the heat of summer, as warm as his caresses. As lulling as his voice, so deep, so mesmerising; its lilt, susurrating, hypnotising, like the sweet, sweet buzz of the furrowing bees gorging themselves all around them. While he confessed his love. With words, immodest and true, rumbling his need for her. Irrepressible, imperious, too-long contained it hurt, it ached, it tore him apart, it—

—It drove him to bed her, in the hay he had just harvested… the very moment she looked at him, just so. The moment she slipped her fingers through his hair, just so. And opened her rosy lips to his, just so. 

Oh yes, she felt loved.

Amidst the poppies. His bearded cheek nuzzling the curve of her visage, his lips testing her pulse, the strength of him crushing her gracile form, crushing the wild strawberries staining her white dress.

She was waving Stoffel goodbye, watching him go down the village road on foot, the orange glow of the late afternoon sun catching the dandelion seeds floating about him. Was he still staying with the pastor? Mathilde sighed, her mind drifting back to their conversation as her feet led her towards the house. Though she lingered around the blackberry bush, to pick more of them.

Yes, love had nothing to do with propriety, she thought, her fingers prickling themselves on the thorns protecting the luscious fruits. But she didn’t mind the pain; the berries were well worth it. Warm and gorged with sunshine, she popped their violet orbs in her mouth, thinking of Leonard’s passionate kisses, just a few hours ago, in the blue, blue light of night.