#and none of them rebuy it

[rosesncarnations]

Urgh!!!

Everyone keeps eating my fucking butter

[redbreastedbird]

i just found out there’s hazel and daisys first meeting from daisys pov in the special edition of mmu. is there extra content like that for all the special editions? if so i’m going to need to rebuy them all omg

There is! I wrote it for the 5th anniversary edition. We’re currently looking at ways to bring it back somewhere else in future as it was such a fun story and it only ever appeared in that limited print run hardback.

None of the other books have special material apart from Mistletoe and Murder, which had a short story from Beanie’s POV that got collected up in the Cream Buns anthology. So you’re good! Although I do think that the new editions with their sprayed edges look very nice.

[thcatplant]

God l miss playing Minecraft. I haven't played it in like 5 years coz l had to play on parents laptop and now l can't (it's complicated).l wish l could play it with all my friends but none of them have Minecraft and l don't have laptop. I guess l could play mobile but I've previously only used PC and don't want to rebuy it+get used to new controls

[obatmeraah]

20151217

Which book most influenced your life?

The answer is definitely the series from A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket.

I started reading novels when I was around twelve years old. My first ones were chick-lits or teen-lits, which wasn't impressive at all now I tell you that. And then I couldn't remember how or why, I stumbled upon the first book of this series, a book titled The Bad Beginning.

As a kid, I didn't like to challenge myself. I liked to play safe and didn't take risks. Reading the synopsis of The Bad Beginning was probably one thing, deciding to buy the book – with the very limited money I had – was another thing. I preferred happy-ending stories over everything. But I bought it anyway, even when it said it wouldn't provide happy-ending.

And then I fell in love.

It might sound exaggerated, but I felt like I saw the world differently after reading the book. For the next few months, I kept half of my lunch money to buy the whole series and the DVD of the movie. None of them disappointed me.

I fell in love, over and over again. I fell in love with the books, with the Baudelaires, with Lemony Snicket, with Jim Carrey and his brilliant acting.

I've earned my own money now, and I've wanted to rebuy the series since forever because I only had them in my native language – and some of them had been missing from my bookshelf. I want to rebuy and reread them, and then relieve the feeling again. The feeling of being afraid, the feeling of living an awful life, the feeling to keep getting up even after you fell to the deepest and darkest pit.

Because the Baudelaires taught me to never give up. Not in the past, not now, never.

[manogirl]

This is true EXCEPT for digital materials, I'm sad to say. Because of the way publishers charge for e-books, if you use a library ebook on Libby, for instance, you are in fact taking a resource away from someone else.

It's very complicated, but it boils down to this: libraries are getting royally SCREWED by publishers on ebook prices. Your local library is probably paying something like $60 for 26 checkouts of an ebook. Prices vary, but that's the normal price for a big-time, best-selling author. When those 26 checkouts are gone, the book vanishes from Libby, until the library buys it again. I don't know what the library budgets are where you live, but where I live (and where I worked), we simply couldn't afford to repurchase books every 26 checkouts.

The other scenario is that the book just vanished after 2 years; the license is for two years at a cost of $60. Again, these are limited resources.

Publishers think that in two years, libraries are going to rebuy the old stuff and also purchase the new stuff, and that means more money for them. Or they think that all the library users who want an older book in ebook format will pay for it when the library doesn't have it. They might not be wrong. Except that there are always going to be folks who simply can't afford to buy books, and one of those folks is probably your local library.

YOU SHOULD NOT STOP USING YOUR LIBRARY. That's not what I'm saying. But I am saying that if you care about your library, you should start vocally supporting your library in ways that don't involve the internet. Go to board meetings. Write the board emails. Advocate for bigger budgets with towns that control those budgets. Campaign for tax increases when it's for the library.

And you should also keep in mind that the publishers are greedy as fuck, and NONE OF THIS is your library's fault. Take the fight to the publishers, if you can.

I think most of y'all know this already but here's your regular librarian-sanctioned reminder that you can & should use the library even if you're not broke/don't "need" it. you're not taking library resources away from other people by using them; in fact the whole point of the library is that the resources are shared. and the more we can demonstrate demand for library resources, the better leverage we have to increase our budgets to get more resources for everyone. not to mention, if you're getting stuff from the library, that's money you're not giving to Amazon/b&n/etc. (for myself I have a policy of not buying books I haven't read yet; I'll read a library copy and if I really love it & want a copy of my own then I'll get it from a local bookstore. saves me from having a giant tbr pile of shame as well.) using the library even if you have other options is good for the library and helps us stay open for people who don't have other options. we're a community service and you're part of the community!

[unironicduncanstan]

i cant remember if i ever said this here b4 but when i was a pre teen i gave away my entire collection of lps to this little girl (its a long story but she was almost like a sister to me so i dont completely regret it) and like,,,, im glad she has them,,, but bro that was so dumb-nice of me i get attached to that shit and it was like hundreds of them and i somehow miss every single one to this day

[thewritetofreespeech]

MC + Cursed Toddler-fied Boys

prompt: All the boys suffer the same fate as Satan by reading ‘The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization’

Lucifer

You have to wonder why they kept so many cursed books around, just out like this. You would think, like any normal person, with this continuing to happen, that they would keep them locked up or something. But no. They just leave them out for anyone to find….

“I’m going to the meeting!” Lucifer yelled, stamping his foot. His face twist in a petulant frown. It would be rather adorable, if you hadn’t been arguing with him for the past 20 minutes

“Lucifer, we talked about this. You can’t go to the meeting. You need to stay here.”

“No! I wanna go to the meeting! It’s very important and everyone is counting on me!” His arms are wailing now as he stamped his foot more.

Of course, you couldn’t let him go to the first of the month meeting like this. His pride would be wounded beyond compare if anyone else saw him like this. But reasoning with him wasn’t working. You had to resort to more, unsavory tactic to win. “But the meeting was cancelled. Lord Diavolo called earlier to let me know.”

Lucifer stopped stamping his feet and waving his arms to look at you with a vacant expression you didn’t know he could muster. “Really?”

Gods help you. “Yes, really.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before he beamed, “ok!” His mood instantly brightening. “I believe you, because [Y/N] would never lie to me.” ‘Forgive me Lucifer’ You think to yourself. “What are we gonna do instead then?”

“Why don’t we play a game instead to pass the time? Would you like that?”

“I know chess!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s play that.”

Of course, knowing and being good at it were two different things. In this state you were actually able to beat Lucifer several times. When he retuned to normal the day was ‘conveniently’ put away for sometime after.

Mammon

“Mammon. Please. I’ll just be gone for a minute.”

“Nooooooo!” Mammon wailed when you tried to get up again. Clinging to your waist tightly to keep you on the couch. “Onii-chan said you had to stay with me! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

After reading The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization, Mammon had, of course, reverted to the personality of a small child. His brother made fun of him, say ‘what’s the difference’, but Lucifer knew that this could be a disaster if he was set to wander free in this state across the Devildom. So he sat you to babysit him.

“Mammon, I promise I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get us some snacks for our movie.”

“Then let me come with you!” He whined, still clinging to you. In this state it seemed he had also taken on the personality of a baby duck. Imprinting on you and following you around everywhere you went in his room. He hadn’t left you alone for 5 seconds since he got this way. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“It’s not a question of you being good or bad Mammon-chan.” He liked to be called Mammon-chan right now. “It’s that you need to stay here. If someone sees you like this well…they could use it to tease you.”

“No…I don’t want to be teased anymore….” His voice was low, and sad. His bright eyes looking on the verge of tears, like kids do when they’re said, before he buried his face into your side. “Mammon-chan doesn’t want to be made fun of anymore. Mammon-chan also doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

You sigh. Unable to argue with him when he was like this. Your hand lifted to pet his head, which he seemed to appreciate, before you text Satan to bring you some snacks. He was always reliable and would do it for you.

Once the affects of the book had worn off, Mammon denied any of this happening. The mere mention would cause his face to turn red and yell about how, “that didn’t happen!” You almost wish you had taken a video of it to show him. Guess you would just have to keep Mammon-chan forever in your heart.

Levi

You went to Levi’s room after class to check on him in his….condition.

Since he did remote learning a lot of the time, being an otaku, it was pretty easy to keep him away from people so they did see him in the current state he was in. Apparently as a toddler he didn’t like being around people either.

So, you had set him up comfortably in his room before heading to class. Promising to come back that afternoon to be with him.

“Levi! I’m back! How are you—what are you doing?!?!”

“Playing with my toys.” Levi replied, with an obvious expression, as a sea of toys stretch out in front of him where he laid on his belly on the floor.

Your brain stopped. Completely at a loss for words. Levi was going to kill you when he returned to normal, because toddler-Levi, left unattended, had unboxed nearly all of his figurines from their packaging. Some of which were incredibly rare, and unable to get anymore.

“I just…I mean…Why?? Why would you do this??”

“They’re my toys.” Levi replied with a pout. Sitting up. “I can do what I want with them. What’s the point in having neat toys if you aren’t going to play with them??”

He did have a point there. But adult-Levi was going to be so mad!

“Do you want to play with me?” The demon asked with a hopeful expression. “You can even be blue Ruri-chan.” The limited edition, color swap Ruri-chan from 1999. He was gonna blow a gasket!

“Yeah. Ok.” But then again, when were you ever going to be able to touch them again.

As expected, Levi totally lost it when he came to his senses. Of course, there was no one to blame but himself, in the end, so he just had to be upset and mope alone. Thankfully, none of them were broken or beyond just out of their originally packaging. He bought them all clear showcase boxes for his ‘ruined’ figurines. Some of them he could rebuy to replace; which seemed to make him happy to have two.

Satan

It had been hours since the affects of the book had taken ahold of Satan. You were starting to wonder if they would ever wear off.

Lucifer had left in search of another book, one that might help speed the process along, and left his younger brother in your care. Of course you were happy to help, but you were getting nervous you would never see the old Satan again.

“[Y/N]-chan?” You look up from your phone, waiting for Lucifer to text you back, to see the blonde demon looking timidly at you from around the corner. 

“What is it Satan?”

“Would you….read to me?” His hands holding out the small children’s book he had some how found in the piles of books covering his room.

You smile softly at him. Your heart warmed by his request. “Of course,” you tell him, and the demon scampered over to sit on the bed beside you. His long legs and body tucked neatly into you as he waited for you to tell him the story of a little lost chicken and it’s journey back home. “[Y/N] tells the best stories!”

After 3 stories, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, Satan was back to normal. He doesn’t answer your questions on where the children’s books had come from, but you spot the red & gold spines on his book shelves sometimes.

Asmo

There was no denying that Asmo was fascinated by art and all things beautiful. He went on and on about it any chance he got. So you shouldn’t have really been surprised when his toddlerfied self just wanted to draw all day.

“Look, look [Y/N]-chan! I finished another one!”

“That’s great Asmo.” You praise. Just like you had done with all the other ones he had handed to you. “Wow! This is really great! Is that a….chicken?”

“No, silly! That’s the white horse for our carriage when we get married!” The demon beamed, then shuffled over on his knees to instruct you on his picture properly. “That’s you, and that’s me. That’s the princess carriage that’s going to ride us off into the sunset. That’s Solomon and Simeon throwing flowers at us. That’s my brothers crying because I got to marry [Y/N]-chan and they didn’t.”

“You certainly seem to have all the parts here.” You praise. Giggling at his enthusiasm and picture.

“I want to have a perfect picture of when we get married. Because I love [Y/N]-chan! And we’re gonna get married and live happily ever after.” He replied, with certainty, with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be glad for that. Why don’t you draw me our perfect house for after we get married?” Asmo scampered off and did just that.

When Asmo came to, and back to his normal self, he took all the pictures he had drawn and framed them. Forcing his brothers and Solomon to take a tour of his mini-art gallery. The piece ‘Marriage of Two Bonded Souls’ was met with some controversy.

Beel

Beel, in his younger days, seemed to have boundless energy. Or you at least had to assume he did, because ever since he had read that stupid book he had been running around.

Lucifer had told you to take him outside. Irritated at hearing his large feet clump around the house, but trying not to show it since it wasn’t his fault. He even let you both take Cerberus outside to help run Beel out. It would be good for the pup too. Get some exercise, he said.

That had been sometime ago, and it seemed baby-Beel and Cerberus were an even match in energy. They had been running around, chasing each other, and play fighting in the back yard all afternoon. You were tired just watching them.

“Beel! Do you want to come in? I think it’s time for a break.”

Both Beel and Cerberus pop their heads up, in a comical and adorable unison head tilt, before jogging over to you. “Break time means snack time right?!”

You chuckle a little. Somethings never changed. “I brought some apple slices & peanut butter for you, for now. We can get you something bigger when we go inside.”

Beel grinned and sat in the grass with the container. “I like apple slices!”

“You do hn?” You don’t think you’ve seen Beel eat an actual fruit on its own. It was usually attached to, baked in, or covered in something, to get him to eat it.

“Yep! They’re crunchy and sweet. Just like you! Though, I guess you aren’t crunchy. Do you want one of my apple slices [Y/N]?”

You blush a little at Beel’s bright, unwavering expression. How could he look so innocent while still looking like that?

He finished his apple slices, minus one, before asking if he could go play again. You let him, but then all of a sudden he spotted playing with Cerberus and stood straight up. Seeming confused on how he got out here and what was going on. “Did I eat an apple? I haven’t had one since….do you think we have more in the kitchen?”

Belphie

It was honestly hard to tell if Belphie was under the spell of the forbidden book or not. He’d been asleep for most of the time; which was not uncommon for him. Then he would wake up and whine a little about something; again, not uncommon for him. Then he would take another nap.

You had figure out that he was still under it’s spell by the requests he was making when he woke up. Juice boxes. More plushies. His ‘blankie’. Eventually it would run its course though, and Belphie would be back to his own sleepy eyed, grown up self. “[Y/N]?”

You walk over to the bed when the demon called your name. The boy half sitting up, but still tucked under his covers. “What is it Belphie?”

“I can’t sleep.” He stated. Which seemed ridiculous since he had been sleeping most of the day. “I miss Lilli. And Be-be. Can you sleep with me?”

You blink at little at the request. You supposed it made since. Kids often wanted someone to sleep with them, so they didn’t have bad dreams or could keep them safe. Maybe that’s why he had been sleeping so much. Because he hadn’t been sleeping well, just sleep.

“Sure Belphie. I’ll lay down with you.” The demon smiled softly, sleepy, before he scooted over to give you some space to lay next to him.

He slept for a while this last time. Clinging onto you in his sleep, with a soft smile on his face. When he woke up, it seemed he was back to normal. “Gosh [Y/N]. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to trick me with that lame book.”

[newswcanonprompts]

Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him. 

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance." 

"What?" 

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—" 

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-" 

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

[ohcoolnice]

ZARA IS NOT 'AFFORDABLE' and it's definitley not "cUtE"

unless you literally don't care about any of this stuff, then i guess just continue on with your life.

-

Zara is not your best friend.

Let’s talk first about something called Planned Obsolescence. Planned Obsolescence (source for the information in this first bit) is fast fashion’s best friend. It’s a strategy where clothes are literally made to fall apart. On average, clothes are made to last no more than seven wears, and then they’ll start coming apart, and even after a single wear they won’t look as good as they did when you bought it.

The reason for that is because mass consumption is how fast-fashion companies make their profit. They rely on the fact that you need to buy and rebuy often. So, that cheap shirt is “affordable”, but really it's not at all and it's causing more harm than it's worth like just go naked at this point.

The way these companies get richer is by selling mass amounts, and their trick is to make things that will break. It’s absolutely insulting.

So that’s one aspect that also leads to cheap prices, but let’s look at another way they cut costs:

In order to make more of a profit at the higher levels, these little shits are out here cutting costs at the lower levels, so they can keep as much as possible for themselves. Cheap fabric = bad for the environment and bad quality and also saves money. Pay the garment workers less than minimum wage, or barely enough to live off of = less percentage of profits have to go to that sector, and more into big boy’s pockets.

For a company that has such a massive profit margin, there’s no reason that there is still so much of it’s supply chain that is not even getting paid a living wage.

Source

Source

All the while, the founder of Inditex, Zara’s Parent company, is the sixth richest person in the world. Amazing.

“But these companies have sustainable methods.”

Oh? You mean like H&M’s “conscious collection” that resulted in over 12 tons of unsold clothes? Where do you think those clothes went? Most of them aren’t even made with fibers that decompose so bitches BURNT THEM. THE POLUTION????????????? DOES NO ONE CARE???

And of course, H&M denies that they did this because of overproduction. As if there’s a valid reason you should be burning 12 tons of clothes.

Right, sorry, this Article is about Zara. No, wait. It's not. Because they're all in the same goddamn boat. A boat that literally has holes in it all over and people for some reason keep patching up those holes with their money and then the dudes on the boat just take that money and so people patch up the holes with MORE MONEY And so on.

more sources

“Zara uses recycled packaging!” WOw. gOoD fOr yOu.

Zara also has this program called “Closing the loop” have you literally ever heard of it????? Yeah me neither. I had to find out about it on some random site and when you click the link to it, it’s not even on Zara’s website, it’s their parent company, Inditex, that runs it.

Now this program Is so that customers can drop off old zara clothes and get them fixed up, or just donate them for reuse. Great, right? Yeah, except those clothes are still ending up in landfills once they’ve reached their very shirt lifespan, and there is no evidence that Zara is actually minimising waste in the manufacturing process, and they’re still using unsustainable materials that are basically plastic.

Zara boasts that it gives customers the “latest fashion trends” every 13 days.

Absolutely appalling. Not only because that’s obviously mass consumption and all that, but most of their designs are thanks to other designers.

No one likes getting their work stolen, we see posts about people stealing fanart and fanfiction and not giving credit but imagine literally making a profit by stealing someone’s work and there’s legally nothing that can be done for the designers WHO WORK HARD like designing clothes is freaking HARD y’all.

And it’s not like they’re only stealing from Big Brands.

Oh no. Oh NONONONONNONOONONNONNOONONNO.

Fast Fashion Bitchass “FashionNova” literally first of all has health warnings for hazardous materials on some products (like tf) which is horrifying, and second of all, they’re notorious for stealing the work of female WOC designers.

And there’s nothing these women can do. Fashion Nova sometimes even straight up blocks these women on social media when they reach out, and then continues to make a profit off them.

Kim Kardashian has even called out fast fashion brands for this on Instagram (albeit in a lighthearted way) because it happens so often.

"She should sue them!"

Bitch yeah, she should. Here's the thing, though: She can't.

She did reach out to Fashion Nova:

Please Please click the link and see other women’s stories and their troubles. It’s so insulting.

Source

If even huge, well known and respected designers have no chance of keeping their hard work safe, what chance do the smaller designers have???? NONE.

Maybe I’ll continue this again later, but right now I’m too worked up and I’m exhausted so I will stop here. Feel free to add on and stop yourself before you buy from fast-fashion retailers again.

PLEASE y’all.

[rainyfestivalsweets]

Weight 248.4

Just a blip! Yay!

Glory hallelujah ~

Things I did to get back on track:

More water

Tracking, even in light of eating too much issues

Tried for balanced meals, at least 300 calories + veggie heavy.

Standing at my desk, at least 2 hours a day. [Sedentary jobs are pro-chronic disease.]

Heading for jello instead of chocolate or artic zero ice cream with garnishes if higher calorie things, like nuts and nutella.

Warm beverages. Homemade fun coffee and teas.

20-25 min elliptical per day

Walking dogs and getting back to my fitness classes.

Fiber supplement

Focusing on small tasks to make my environment feel better. (Ie, put away some clothes but not forcing myself to put them all away. 3 is better than none).

Cleared myself of other obligations. Got off Facebook and asked people to leave me alone because it was too distracting.

Being realistic, I might not be able to see my cousin this weekend. 😪

I finished the umbrella academy! Oh my God, so many feels. Still working on Gotham.

Overall, focusing on changing my daily activities to involve more exercise and healthier food.

I need to focus on getting thru work and getting my project for school done.

Today's coffee is Dunkin Donuts Cinnamania, flaxmilk + jordan's skinny Cinnamon Dolce. Fall vibes and delightful.

Also, I am not allowing myself to rebuy the things I was binging on. Those items will be occasional purchases only. As rewards, or my 20% "fun" foods, not the normal everyday food purchases.

Things I can also buy as rewards- my "favorites" -- specific brands I tried thru life boxes and really enjoyed. Except the purlisse eye mask because that is 70 fucking dollars for a tiny ass amount.

[dollsonmain]

I was thinking about how Keith is wanting to rebuy things he lost in his youth, and me missing items that my mother threw away when she’d throw away everything I owned instead of teaching me how to clean to try to make me be tidy (like the Barbie ice cream parlor with real ice cream maker?) and how that did NOT work.

I’m still a mess.

Like right now I’m sitting in the middle of a nest.

And that led to me thinking about how I’ve tried various cleaning programs and none have worked for me.

And it’s like, little bits and pieces of different programs have sort of worked.

Fly Lady was TOO MUCH and all wrong for me, but she was right about getting dressed in the mornings, though I don’t wear shoes or slippers in the house. I do get more done if I’m dressed instead of wallowing around very comfy in my jammiejams.

Or like UFYH only really worked for me when she’d post something very specific, like “Go clean the bathroom floor right now.” and I’d be like WHICH BATHROOM??!?!?!? but I’d get one of them done at least but if she said “Find 10 things that aren’t where they belong and put them away” my brain shuts off. It’s not specific enough. But she was also pushing making the bed every morning. I am now, finally, in the habit of making the bed, and while doing so isn’t a catalyst for getting things done the rest of the day, it is a pretty good indicator of how much I might get done in a day.

If I don’t make the bed, chances are I’m not going to be able to do much at all that day. If I do make the bed, making the bed may be the only thing I do, but it’s at least one thing done.

Then Konmari really didn’t work for me because some days I feel joy over everything and some days I am wholly devoid of joy. But I started folding my underwear, bras, and socks her way and found that ever since I did that, I’ve always put my clean laundry away immediately. I’ve also been able to let go of some gifts that I never wanted in the first place, get rid of clothes that needed mending but I would never get around to, buckle down into an aesthetic for my doll and toy collecting from here on out, look at dolls and ponies that don’t quite fit and decide whether to change or let go of them, and start making myself buy the ABJD clothes that I LIKE, even if they cost more, instead of clothes I can afford. Which then makes them even more joyful for me to look at.

Which resulted in Mika being too damn cute and she’s still in the office with me instead of down where the others are, and led to the creation of Pastelicious out of Neonlicious, and buying Togetherness Bear and.....

I’m still a human disaster and my home is still a damned mess, but I’m happier in it, now? I feel like I am trying, now. Or maybe more like I’m aware that I always have been trying? And failing.... But trying.

[warbcunds]

*     ──     [   natalie dormer  ,   cis female  ,   she/her .   ]   :   in  the  frays  of  king  aerys  iii's   reign  ,  therein  remains  ambrosia  arryn  nee  westerling ,  the  forty  year  old  dowager  lady  of  the  vale  .   rumor  has  it  that  their  loyalties  lie  with  house  arryn  &  house  westerling  and  they  are  against  the  targaryen  reign  .   they're  so  intelligent  +  adaptable  that  it  makes  sense  ,   but  most  seem  to  look  past  their  conniving  +  manipulative  nature  .   when  they  come  up  in  conversation  ,   i'm  always  reminded  of  a  smirk  curving  upwards  when  schemes  go  to  plan  ,  candles  burning  down  to  the  wick  ,  ambition  that  guides  her  every  action . 

i  –––––  general

name  :  ambrosia arryn nee westerling

nicknames  :  rose

alliance  : house arryn, house westerling, house lannister

titles  :  dowager lady of the vale, ruling lady of the vale ( former ), lady of the crag ( former )

marital status  :  widowed

ii ––––– personal

sexual  orientation  :  bisexual

romantic  orientation  :  biromantic

moral  alignment  :  neutral evil

sins  : lust / gluttony / greed / sloth / wrath / pride / envy

virtues  : chastity / temperance / charity / diligence / patience / kindness /  humility

iii ––––– biography

born the first daughter to thalia and ajax westerling, ambrosia was set on the long road from the moment she arrived in the world.

after the wedding of jeyne westerling and robb stark and the mess it left in it’s wake, life became a difficult thing. for house westerling. their mines were running dry, they’d been selling off lands and they never knew where they stood with people. 

it took them decades to truly rebuild the crag into more of a stronghld once more, and they hardly did it through hard work. they did it through rubbings elbows with the right people, only taking the most advantageous marriages they could get, even stealing from other mines in the westerlands in order to improve their own fortunes.

by the time rose was born, house westerling was not so much of a joke anymore. they’re even struck a gold vein in their lands that gave them the chance to open their mines back up, rebuy their old ones. 

her parents were sitting in a decent position within the westerlands once more, but they still had the same values that they instilled in their kids. they couldn’t afford to slip in society again. the last time left them near commoners with little wealth and influence, and they couldn’t allow for it to happen again.

growing up, ambrosia started going by just rose from an early age. ambrosia was saved for formal occasions or when she was in trouble, which was more often than not. she enjoyed pushing boundaries and having fun, but she was always on the same page as the rest of the family. there was a time for childish games, but by the time she became a teenager she had to start playing the game. 

she and her elder siblings were encouraged to befriend the lannisters and while rose could hardly stand lorcan and lysander, she watched as adonis became close to daven and muscled in on that friendship.

being friends with the lannisters helped their family’s standing further, and being friends with someone just as ambitious as she was only encouraged rose’s own manipulative nature.

she knows that marrying for love is out of the question, so she takes lovers instead. one after the other and she’s barley been faithful to a single one of them. she doesn’t agree to any proposal that comes her way, knowing that if she bides her time and doesn’t rush into anything, then her horizons will broaded.

adonis’ takes his oath as a kingsguard when she’s fifteen, and just like that house westerling is thriving again. they all relax just a little bit, encouraged by their eldest brothers new place in the world. invitations to balls were sent their way and the westerlings had reason to be in king’s landing, associating with the highest members of society. 

but none of them where there when adonis was stripped of his white cloak, wrongfully accused of spying on the king for gold. they though aerys had shown him mercy by merely dismissing him, but it’s no coincidence that bandits happened upon his path on his travels, leaving him with a sword through his back. 

rose has never had any doubts that it was the targaryens behind it and while she and her family knew full well that it was aerys that ordered it. it left them disgraced, their reputation ruined once more and harbouring a grudge that would burn on.

she should not have waited so long to find a suitor, for after her brother was deemed a traitor to a crown, no one wanted to marry her. she spent much of her time travelling from region to region, visiting great houses especially. she may have whispered in a few people’s ears of how the targaryens were unfair rulers, that they hardly belonged on the throne. 

eventually, she’d heard the good news that the former ruling lady of the vale had died and she knew that she would have to act fast if she ever wanted to secure a future for herself. she spent the time before winter hit making friends in the northern kingdom, attending all the feasts and celebrations held there and getting closer to stefon arryn each time. 

within three years, she had him seduced and wrapped around her finger. she became the new ruling lady of the vale, the strength of a region under the thumb of a man she now had influence over. only subtle things, of course. she used the vale’s resources to have the crag returned to it’s former glory and in exchange, she gave stefon three more children to dote on ( though the last one very well might be tharon’s, she’s not entirely sure ).

she made sure to spend her time winning over the vale. she reached out to the houses there, telling them how deeply she was committed to the vale after the southern kingdom had so horribly wronged her family. it quickly became the truth, too. she’d never had something she had control of before, never had something she could at least partially call her own, and it didn’t take long for all of her most manipulative intentions to allign with prosperity for the vale.

she even became fond of stefon’s children, or at least warik. close enough in age to her, she recognizes that sense of duty and doing what was necessary for both family and land. they bonded over it in the seven years she’s been the ruling lady, and they see eye to eye on many of the plans for the vale.

probably has more of a grasp on the vale than she’d let on to the rest of the family bc honestly, she is one paranoid lady always preparing for the worst. she knows that if she didn’t make herself useful as the ruling lady, there was always the chance of being cast out and then she’d be right back where she started. she refused to let that happen to her.

while she mourned her husband upon his murder, she wasn’t rlly all that upset about it. he’d recently caught her in bed with someone else and she was getting a little worried about what would come of it so really, it came at a perfect time.

now, she’s all about planning her next move. she by no means intends to give up the reach just because her husband’s dead and she hopes that she and warik can become sort of a team like she’d been with stefon. she’s never been the type of woman to put her eggs in one baskett, though, always looking for bigger and better opportunities.

truly does love the vale though, that’s her true priority rn. 

iv ––––– tidbits

she’s the kind of woman whose face you really can’t read. she’ll talk about doing something terrible as casually as she would commission a new dress, though she’s entirely serious the entire time.

has never been faithful to a single relationship in her life, i am so sorry to anyone she’s taken on as a lover and she’s just straight up cheated on them. she’s always been very discreet though, ESPECIALLY once she got married.

absolutely ride or die for her family and the maybe five other people she cares about. there’s absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do for them, or to further their position in the game.

i don’t think she’s got her sights set on the iron throne, she just genuinely would like to see the lot of them dead. so sorry for all the targs that interact with her.

v ––––– wanted connections

whoever she got caught in bed with by her husband before he died. she’s had plenty of lovers over the years so they could have been serious or just having fun, really.

some fellow schemer besties that also hate the targaryens and wanna see them dead.

genuine friendships, probably with houses that have also had a hard go of it in life and have had to fight just to be in the room the way she has.

lovers, always lovers. i’ve never played a non-whore character in my life.

literally anything, i’m down for whatever. 

[oyasuminto]

Ok i can't figure out how to report bugs cause my device is bein an ass so I'll ask/report it here. Whsn i have automatic clothing rebuy enabled and a piece of clothing with a custom color gets replaced it does whatever the most recent custom color i clicked on instead of the color of the clothing item. Abd this is with version.3.7.2. I looked tbrough bug fixes for updates but none of them mention this.

AH, YEAH, with bug reports the best place to go is #bug-reports on the Discord server!

[madebycoffee]

why do you use only cruelty free things?

It was one of those moments where you find something out and it makes you change kind of deals? Similar to when you find out an actor is a dickwad or something and you can’t watch anything they’re in anymore. Full answer is under the cut because it’s long lmao, and I also put a lil list of brand I use in case yer curious. 💜🐰

3 ish years ago I was out of all my makeup staples (which at the time was 3 things lol, powder foundation, liquid foundation, and eyeliner. oh how times have changed) and I went to the drugstore to buy those three things and I had 30 bucks to spend. None of my usual things were on sale so I decided to take a chance on the elf display because everything there was under 10$. I bought a full face of makeup for 32$ and excitedly went home and unpacked everything. On all of elf’s packaging it said cruelty free and I went and learned what that meant. 

And that was it, I really couldn’t buy things from brands that test on animals after that. I didn’t throw out everything that I had from brands that do test, I just used them up and looked for cruelty free brands when it was time to rebuy. It’s a lot of work to keep up with who is and who isn’t, unfortunately brands will change their status to sell in mainland china (cough cough nars & mac years ago, wet n wild & physician’s formula this past year cough cough) But there are also glimmers of hope like covergirl who pulled out of china and obtained a leaping bunny certification. 

I’m not going to fault anyone for using non cf things, but I’m always going to recommend getting cf things lol. I mean everything I own and use is so it’s all i can recommend. At this point I’m really happy that everything i have except for 1 nail item (a cuticle remover) is cf. There has been a LOT of trial and error trying to find good hair & skin care (because I also discovered during this time that I have a skin allergy to coconut water,oil,milk). But ye. It’s been a thing that I can do :U 

If you’re thinking about it and need some brands to start with by category: (oh and I don’t exclusively use vegan brands, so if that is something you’d want too you might need to do some extra research) Makeup: Elf, Covergirl, Kokie, Colourpop for drugstore, high end I don’t use a lot lol. I have a few things from Tarte and Anastasia Beverly Hill, but ABH apparently is caught up in controversy rn so maybe nah.

Skincare: I use mainly Elf lol, but there be Burt’s Bees too. I’ve used 1 thing from Drunk Elephant that was nice but wow overpriced. I’ve been using some of the Ordinary but ehhhh idk if it’s working so great for me. Still worth a shot tho.

Haircare: Jāsön, Acure, It’s a 10. I would NOT recc. Alba Botanicals because that’s the stuff that caused me to have really painful welts all over my body from coconut. Use at ur own risk. :U Acure is the shampoo/conditioner I currently use and i haven’t had a problem with those!

Bodycare: Burt’s Bees & Jāsön again. I don’t particularly use a lot for b o d y skin. Almost everything has coconut which is so annoying.

Nails! This is the hardest category to find at the drugstore, but if you expand to a store like Ulta you’ll find some options, anyway. Pacifica, Orly, Zoya, Nailtopia, Holo Taco, The Nail Bazaar (indie brand!) are the more expensive options. Orly is the best value however, you get the most mL for the same price point as Zoya and Nailtopia. And then the only brand I own where the nail polish is under 10$ is Kokie. My FAVE polish of all time is by them, it’s called Pop the Champagne and it’s a beautiful champagne shimmer that compliments my skintone like crAZY. Kokie is ~7$ a polish which still can be expensive. But for me it’s worth it :U  Oh! And the Ulta Beauty Brand is cf too! Which is where I get acetone and nail oil (just pure jojoba oil)

Extras: Makeup brushes/tools= Real Techniques, toothpaste= Tom’s of Maine. 

that’s all I can think of, of the brands that I own. aNYWAY if you made it throught this whole answer wow ily, impressive. Reply with yer favorite ABBA song or something.

[snarkomancy]

The spell of teleprojection was tricky, the sorcerers were to speak with one voice, by joining hands and thoughts. Even then, it turned out to be a devilishly strenuous exercise, partly because the distance was so considerable. The clenched eyelids of Philippa Eilhart quivered, Triss Merigold panted, and sweat beads ran down the high forehead of Keira Metz. Only the face of Margarita Laux-Antille expressed no fatigue.

The small room plunged into semi-lit darkness, suddenly, a mosaic of light began to dance along the dark wood paneling. Outlined by a white glow, an orb appeared above the round table. While Philippa Eilhart chanted the last incantations, the orb came up right in front of her, on top of one of the twelve chairs placed around the table. An indistinct silhouette took shape inside it. The projection was not very stable, the image flickered, but it soon became clearer. 

“Holy shit,” Keira muttered, wiping her forehead. “Do they not know of glamarye or any other beauty spells in Nilfgaard?” “Apparently not.” said Triss from the corner of her mouth. “They certainly have not heard of fashion either.” “Neither have they heard of make-up.” said Philippa quietly. “But don't say a word now, girls. And do not gape at her. We must stabilize the projection and greet our guest. Strengthen me, Rita.”

Margarita Laux-Antille repeated the formula of the incantation and gestured to Philippa. The image flickered several times, it started to lose its vague picture and unnatural glow, the contours and colours became more acute. The sorceresses were now carefully observing the silhouette that was facing them. Triss bit her lip and glanced at Keira.

The woman within the projection was pale and her complexion was ugly. She had bland, expressionless eyes, narrow bluish lips and a slightly hooked nose. She wore a bizarre, conical, rather crumpled hat. Thin, dark, greasy hair hung from underneath it. Her robes were loose and shapeless, black with a silver trim, and frayed at the shoulder making her look unattractive and neglected. They were embroidered with a circle and a crescent star which served as the only decoration worn by the Nilfgaardian sorceress. Philippa Eilhart rose, trying not to unduly expose her jewels, her laces and her cleavage. 

“The venerable Lady Assire,” she said. “Welcome to Montecalvo. We are delighted that you have accepted our invitation.” “I accepted out of curiosity.” said the Nilfgaardian sorceress with an unexpectedly pleasant and melodious voice, instinctively adjusting her hat. Her hands were thin, marked with yellow spots, and her nails were broken and uneven, obviously bitten. “Only out of curiosity,” she reiterated, “however the consequences could indeed prove to be disasterous for me. I beg you to give me an explanation.”

“I will do so in a moment,” Philippa nodded, motioning the other sorceresses. “But before then, allow me to call the projections of the other participants of the meeting and make a cross-presentation. I ask a little patience.” The sorceresses united hands again and resumed their incantations. The air in the chamber rang like taut wire from the ceiling coffers and once again descended in a glowing haze, filling the room with flickering shadows. Above three of the unoccupied chairs, spheres of pulsating light began to form, the outlines of the silhouettes within becoming visible. 

The first to appear was Sabrina Glevissig, wearing a provocatively low-cut turquoise dress with a large, standing lace collar, which formed a beautiful setting for her curly hair crowned with a brilliant diadem. Next to her, emerging from the misty light projection, was Sheala de Tancarville in a black velvet gown trimmed with pearls, her neck wrapped with a silver fox boa. The Nilfgaardian sorceress nervously licked her thin lips. Just wait for Francesca, thought Triss. When you see Francesca, little black rat, your eyes will pop out of your head. Francesca Findabair did not disappoint. Her dress was the colour of blood, revealing her appetizing form. She wore a necklace of rubies, an ambitious hairdo, and her doe eyes were encircled with keen elven makeup.

“Ladies, I wish you all welcome to Montecalvo,” said Philippa. “I took the liberty of inviting you here to address some issues of significant importance. I regret that we meet as teleprojections, however, due to the times and the distances between us, a real meeting would have been impossible. I, Philippa Eilhart, the mistress of this castle, as hostess and instigator of this meeting will handle the introductions. To my right, Margarita Laux-Antille, the head of the Academy of Aretuza. To my left, Triss Merigold, of Maribor, and Keira Metz, of Carreras. Next, we have Sabrina Glevissig, of Ard Carraigh and Sheala Tancarville of Creyden, representing Kovir. Then Francesca Findabair, known as Enid an Gleanna, the current ruler of the Valley of Flowers. And finally Assire var Anahid of Vicovaro, from the Empire of Nilfgaard. And now ...”

“And now I will say goodbye!” Sabrina Glevissig yelled, pointing at Francesca with her hand covered in rings. “You went too far, Philippa! I'm not going to sit at the same table as the damn elf, even as an illusion! She failed to clean the blood from the walls and floors of Garstang. The blood she and Vilgefortz spilled!” “I beg you to observe the proprieties and keep your cool.” Philippa leaned on the edge of the table with both hands. “Listen to what I have to say. I do not ask anything more. When I finish, each of you will decide whether to stay or leave. The projection is voluntary, it can be interrupted at any time. The only thing I ask of those who decide to leave, is to keep the secrecy of this meeting.”

“I knew it!” Sabrina moved so suddenly that for a moment she came out of the projection. “A secret meeting! Secret arrangements! In short, a conspiracy! And the intent is clear. Do you mock us, Philippa? First you demand that we keep this from our kings and our colleagues, which you have not seen fit to invite. And there sits Enid Findabair, by the grace of Emhyr var Emreis the reigning ruler of the elves of Dol Blathanna, who actively supports and arms Nilfgaard. That's not to say I'm not more amazed at the projection of a Nilfgaardian sorceress here in this room. Since when did the sorcerers of Nilfgaard cease to profess blind obedience and docile servility towards the Imperial power? And what secrets are we talking about here? If she's here, its at the knowledge and consent of Emhyr! At his command! She is the eyes and ears of the Emperor!”

“I doubt it.” said Assire var Anahid calmly. “Nobody knows that I participate in this meeting. I was asked in secrecy, which I have preserved and will maintain. It is also in my own interest to do so - if my participation came to light, I'd lose my head. For that is why there is such servility among sorcerers in the Empire, they have a choice between slavery and the scaffold. I have undertaken a risk by accepting your invitation. I did not come here as a spy and I have only one way to prove it, my own death. Just break Lady Eilharts request of secrecy. If the news of our meeting leaves these walls, I lose my life.”

“For me, the betrayal of this secret could also have unpleasant consequences,” Francesca smiled charmingly. “You would have a marvelous opportunity for revenge, Sabrina.” “I will get revenge in some other way, elf.” Sabrina's black eyes flashed ominously. “If the secret comes to light, it will not be through my fault or carelessness. Not mine!” “Are you implying something?” “Of course,” Philippa Eilhart interjected. “Of course, Sabrina gently reminds us of my work with Sigismund Dijkstra. As if she herself had never maintained any contact with the agents of King Henselt.” “There is a difference,” Sabrina growled. “I was not Henselt's mistress for three years, let alone his spies!” “Enough of this! Shut up!”

“I agree.” Sheala de Tancarville suddenly said outloud. “You've said enough, Sabrina. Enough already about Thanedd, enough about espionage and personal affairs. I do not come here to take part in such discussions or to listen to you spread your resentment and bombard us with insults. I'm not interested in the role of mediator, and if you invited me here with this intention, I will say it was to no avail. Indeed, I already suspect that I participate in vain, and I unnecessarily lose precious time at the great expense of my research work. However, I will refrain from making assumptions. Finally, I propose we call on Philippa Eilhart to begin, so we can finally learn the reason for this gathering. We will learn the role in which we play here. Then, without unnecessary emotions we will decide whether we should continue the show or lower the curtain. The discretion of which we are asked to commit, of course, obliges us all. And I, Sheala de Tancarville, will personally take appropriate action against the indiscreet.”

None of the sorceresses moved nor uttered a word. Triss did not for a moment doubt Sheala's warning. The Koviri  recluse did not make threats she threw to the wind. “We give you the stage, Philippa. I ask that the venerable congregation remain silent until you are finished.”

Philippa Eilhart rose, rustling her dress.

“Dear sisters,” she said. “The situation is serious. Magic is threatened. The tragic events of Thanedd, thoughts that I remember with regret and reluctance, have shown that the effects of hundreds of years of seemingly conflict-free cooperation, can be forgotten in the blink of an eye, when excessive private interests and ambitions emerge. Today we are in a breakdown, a disorder, and we run into mutual hostility and distrust. This is what happens, when things begin to spiral out of control. To regain control, to prevent a terrible disaster, we should take a strong hand to the helm of this ship carried away by the storm. Lady Laux-Antille, Lady Metz, Lady Merigold and I have already discussed this matter and have reached an agreement. Rebuilding the Chapter and Council destroyed at Thanedd is not enough. Besides, no one is capable of rebuilding both of these institutions, and there is no guarantee that it will not be infected by the same disease that destroyed the previous one. We propose a completely different, secret organization that will serve only the affairs of magic, which will do everything in its powers to prevent a disaster. For if magic dies, this world will perish. Just as centuries ago, a world devoid of magic and the progress it brings will plunge into chaos and darkness, it will be drowned in blood and barbarity. All ladies present here are welcome to join our initiative, to actively participate in the proposed secret group. We have invited you here to hear your views on on this matter. I am done.”

“Thank you.” Nodded Sheala de Tancarville. “If the ladies will allow me, I will begin. My first question, Philippa; why me? Why was I invited? Repeatedly, I rejected my candidacy for the Chapter, and I refused a chair on the Council. Firstly, my work consumes me. Secondly, I thought then and still think that there are, in Kovir, Hengfors and Poviss others, more deserving of these honors. I ask, why I was invited here and not Carduin? Not Istredd of Aedd Gynvael, Tugdual or Zangenis?”

“Because they are men.” said Philippa. “The organization, which I have mentioned should be composed exclusively of women. And you Assire?” “I withdraw my question.” The Nilfgaardian sorceress smiled. “It was the same as Lady de Tancarville's. The answer satisfied me.”

“This smacks of feminist chauvinism.” sneered Sabrina Glevissig. “Especially from your mouth, Philippa, after your change of ... sexual orientation. I have nothing against men. In fact, I love men, and life without them I can not imagine. But ... After a moment's thought ... I believe this to be a wise concept. Men are mentally unstable, too sensitive to their emotions and you can not count on them in times of crisis.”

“It is true.” admitted Margarita Laux-Antille calmly. “We constantly compare the results of the of the Aretuza adepts to those boys from the school in Ban Ard and the comparison falls invariably in favour of the girls. Magic requires patience, delicacy, intelligence, common sense and tenacity. It needs one to bear calmly and humbly their setbacks and failures. Men lose to ambition. They always want what they know is impossible and unattainable, and they do not notice what is possible.”

“Enough, enough, enough.” Sheala pouted, though not hiding her smile. “There is nothing worse than scientifically manufactured chauvinism, shame on you, Rita! Although ... I agree also with the unisex structure of the proposed convention... or, if preferred, Lodge. As we understand this is for the future of magic, and magic is too serious a matter to entrust its fate to men.”

“If I may,” Francesca Findabair said in her melodious voice, “I would like us to stop the rambling speculation about the nature of the domination of our gender, this harbours no discussion. Let us instead focus on matters relating to the proposed initiative, the purpose of which is still not entirely clear to me. The timing is not accidental, and is clearly related to the war. Nilfgaard has invaded and forced the Northern Kingdoms to the wall. So behind the vague slogans that I have heard, is hidden understandably, the desire to reverse the situation and defeat Nilfgaard? And then to skin the audacious elves? If so, Philippa, we do not find common ground.”

“Is this the reason why I have been invited here?” Asked Assire var Anahid. “I do not devote much attention to politics, but I know that the Imperial army has the advantage over your troops. Aside from Lady Francesca and Madame de Tancarville coming from a neutral kingdom, all the ladies represent kingdoms which are hostile to the Nilfgaardian Empire. Do you expect me to see this magic word of solidarity, as an incentive for treason? I'm sorry, but I do not see myself in that role.”

Having finished her speech, Assire leant, as if to lay her hand on something that was not in the projection. Triss thought she heard meowing. “She has a cat!” whispered Keira Metz. “I bet he's black ...” “Not so loud.” Philippa hissed. “Dear Francesca, dear Assire. Our initiative should be absolutely apolitical, that is its basic premise. We will not be guided by the interests of races, kingdoms, kings and emperors, but the good magic and its future.”

“Driven by the good magic,” Sabrina Glevissig smiled mockingly, “but still forgetting to ensure the welfare of witches? And yet we know how our fellow sorcerers are treated in Nilfgaard. We talk of being apolitical, but when Nilfgaard wins and we find ourselves under Imperial power, we will all look like ...” Triss moved uneasily, Philippa let out a barely audible sigh. Keira looked down, Sheala pretended to adjust her boa. Francesca bit her lip. Assire var Anahid's face did not flinch, but was covered with a slight blush.

“I just wanted to say... It's a sad fate that awaits us all.” Sabrina finished quickly. “Philippa, Triss and I, all three of us were at Sodden Hill. Emhyr will make us pay, as we will pay forThanedd, and for the entirety of our involvement. But this is just one of the reservations that stops me from agreeing to the declared political neutrality of the convention. Does participation in it mean the immediate resignation of the active and political, after all, service that we act in now with our kings? Or will we remain in this service and serve two masters at once: magic and power?”

“When someone tells me that he is apolitical,”Francesca smiled, “I always ask which of the policies he is referring to.” “And you know for certain he does not mean the one that he follows.” said Assire var Anahid, looking at Philippa. “I am apolitical,” Margarita Laux-Antille raised her head. “And my school is apolitical. I mean all political types that exist!” “Dear ladies,” Sheala spoke. She had remained silent for a long time. “Remember that you are the superior sex. So do not behave like girls who are fighting over bowl of sweet treats on the table. The principle proposed by Philippa is clear. At least to me, and I still don't have enough reason to consider you to be less keen of mind than I am. Outside of this room, be who you want, and serve whom you want and for whatever reason you choose to, as faithfully as you wish. But when the convention is gathered, we will deal exclusively with magic and its future.”

“This is exactly how I imagine it.” Philippa Eilhart confirmed. “I know that there are many problems, as well as doubts and ambiguities. We will discuss them at the next meeting in which all will take part, not as a projection or illusion, but in their own person. Your presence will be regarded not as a formal act of accession to the convention, but as a goodwill gesture. We will decide together whether such a convention should be created. All of us. Fairly.”

- Baptism of Fire

[lady-divine-writes]

Need for Speed:New York - Chapter 2 (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Notes: This was supposed to upload on Saturday, but I need a little positivity today, so I'm indulging. But there will be another chapter up Sat/Sun. Thank you all for your support <3

Read on AO3.

“A new bed, a new dresser, a new desk, a refrigerator … wait. I thought the loft came with a refrigerator?” Blaine said.

“It does, but it’s from the 50s,” Kurt said, racing down the sidewalk to the NYADA main entrance with his phone pressed to his ear. “It’s retro chic, but I worry about its energy efficiency.”

“Do you wanna get rid of it or …?”

“No way! Are you kidding? It’s too trendy to get rid of. We’ll use it as a show piece or something. We just can’t put food in it. Or plug it in.”

“O-kay. You know, it’s a good thing we’re getting such a good deal on this loft seeing as we’re rebuying every piece of furniture we own.”

“Not every piece.”

“Most of them.”

“It’s a good investment. As far as I’m concerned, the furniture we have is full to the brim with bad juju.” Kurt hurried through the double doors as a throng of other students walked out - a group of theater majors so enthralled in a debate over whether Williams, Shaw, or O’Neill were the best playwright of their time, they didn’t see Kurt until they ran into him. “The dresser’s way too small, the couch cushions are flat as pancakes, and the legs of the bed are shot from moving it in and out of the kitchen all summer long.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason our bed’s legs are shot?”

“That’s the one I’m going with while I’m out in public.”

“And I’m guessing an exorcism is out of the question?”

“I’m not too sure the Catholic Church would be eager to help us. Besides, you honestly think that would be cheaper than a trip to IKEA?”

“Hmmm … probably not.”

Kurt sighed, sliding his messenger bag, then his coat, off his shoulders and shaking out the rain. “I’m sorry. Is this too much? I think I kind of jumped into this without consulting you first.”

“No, no! Not at all! I’m not complaining, I swear! I’m just bustin’ your chops. I think it’s adorable. And it’ll probably be cheaper in the long run to buy brand new stuff than to cart our old junk to the new place.”

“Exactly,” Kurt concurred even though that particular argument hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Plus, I fully support any opportunity you find to spread your designing wings. Speaking of, you’re letting me foot the bill for this shopping spree, right?”

“Absolutely not! 50/50. That’s the arrangement.”

“If that’s how you want it, darling. But you know …” Blaine’s voice slid lower and Kurt grinned, knowing that something suggestive was about to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth “… I could pay the bill, and you could work off your half in trade.” He growled, and even though Kurt rolled his eyes, certain parts of his body rose to the occasion.

“You wish,” Kurt said, willing away the erection that sprang up like a Pavlovian dog at Blaine’s growl, which, at any other time, would be followed by his boyfriend on his hands and knees. That was difficult to accomplish from across town. “Come on, let me go! I have to get to my first class. I’m already late enough to not show up!” Damn Jeff and Nick for not coming home last night, Kurt thought as he carefully folded his soaked coat inside out and draped it over his arm. Since their normal five a.m. shenanigans didn’t wake Kurt up, and his alarm never does, he was late getting ready, late for the train, and now, he’s just plain late for the day.

Honestly, that was on him for linking his circadian rhythm to his friends’ sex schedule.

But late for his first class meant his day was shot, so he might as well go home and keep packing, right?

Sounded reasonable to him.

“Alright, alright, alright! Get to class! Do all the things! I’ll see you later this afternoon, and then maybe we could do a little house warming celebrating of our own.” Blaine growled again, and Kurt re-positioned his sopping wet coat over the front of his jeans so as to not to make a scene.

“You order a pizza and I’ll grab a sleeping bag from the apartment on my way over.”

“It’s a date. Bye, darling.”

“Bye.” Kurt hung up the call. He shivered when the doors behind him opened, ushering in a breeze that spiraled through his damp clothes and straight to his bones. He started down the hall, trying to remember whether or not he’d left a change of clothing in his locker in the costume closet. If not, he could always borrow something. What plays were going on right now? Much Ado About Nothing? Waiting for Godot? Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? There had to be a pair of jeans and a semi-fashionable button-down shirt in there that would fit him. Or he could throw caution to the wind and dress up in a brocade vest, a long coat, and pantaloons. With the risky outfits he wore during high school, period dress was something he hadn’t tried. NYADA seemed like the perfect place to explore those vistas in fashion. Maybe he could start a trend. He was interning at Vogue. He needed to do more to stretch boundaries, be bold, start a movement.

Get dry. Because the longer he waited, the tighter his jeans became. They were tight enough as it was. Squishing his junk was not the fashion statement he needed to start today.

A familiar voice stopped him before he could convince himself to go to his second lecture dressed like Benedick … or Beatrice.

Not just stopped but skidded to a halt, nearly rolling his right ankle in the process.

“Hello, gorgeous. I think you forgot your bag.”

“Sebastian?” Kurt spun around. And as implausible as it seemed, Sebastian Smythe was standing behind him, Kurt’s messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He looked dryer than Kurt, so he couldn’t have just gotten there. But why was he there at all? “Oh my God!” Kurt opened his arms and hugged him without giving it a second thought. “We haven’t seen you in forever! I thought you were overseas! What are you doing in New York?”

Sebastian returned the hug single-armed. ““Haven’t you heard? I go here now.”

Kurt stepped out of Sebastian’s embrace so quickly, he almost succeeded in twisting that ankle. “Wait? What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He brought his left arm forward, showing Kurt a stack of books he held clutched in his hand. The top one Kurt recognized right away as Intro to Theater. That happened to be the class he was missing this very moment. The second was A History of Shakespearean Dress Making, the elective Kurt had fourth today, and the third … The Beginner’s Guide to Mime? Kurt didn’t understand. Wasn’t Sebastian attending Oxford or something? Why would he be in New York taking theater, mime, and dress making? It didn’t make sense. “Wha---what, are you … did you really … how in the hell did you …?” Kurt went silent, mouth open as a dozen questions clogged up his throat like rush hour traffic.

He flashed back to his own audition for NYADA – the grueling hour spent in the April Rhodes Auditorium singing his prepared musical theater piece and sight reading another. He had to juggle set design, costume, and choreography all at a professional level to prove that he had what it took to go to this school. Jeff, who auditioned in dance, had to prepare two separate solos – one classical ballet and one hip-hop. At an additional placement interview, Kurt had to prepare another musical theater piece as well as deliver a monologue, and Jeff had to come up with three more dance routines – jazz, interpretive, and contemporary.

Kurt knew that Sebastian had music in his arsenal. He was co-captain of The Warblers at Dalton, but that was show choir. They sang top 40 hits and pulled off some synchronized swaying – nothing to the level of a NYADA audition. Kurt attended the last Warbler concert of their senior year with Blaine. Sebastian had a solo. Kurt remembered thinking he had a decent voice – better than decent, actually.

But that was about it.

Afterwards, at a mixed crew going-away party, Sebastian drank three beers and smoked a joint – something Kurt would never think of doing as a performer. His body was his instrument. He wouldn’t do anything that might put it out of tune.

Going to a school like NYADA wasn’t only about talent. It was about passion and sacrifice. Sebastian never said a word about wanting to join the arts professionally. Was he keeping it a secret – maybe from his dad? Maybe his life was like George the janitor’s and he was waiting for his moment to break free.

Could he have actually made it into NYADA?

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold up!” Sebastian juggled the books in his hand to grab his phone and snap a pic. The flash went off in Kurt’s face, but he didn’t even blink. Sebastian looked at the image on his screen and chortled. “Oh yeah! That's a keeper!”

“I still don’t … I don’t … how did you …?”

“I don’t go here, ya psycho!” Sebastian snorted, setting the books down on a nearby chair. “I came here to see you! The tuition here’s highway robbery, and the audition requirements are insane! You really have to commit yourself to a life of suffering and poverty to want to go here, no offense.”

“None taken, you useless walnut. Then where did you get those?” Kurt pointed at the books.

“I borrowed them from the library. I thought it would give me provenance, help me look the part.”

“A-ha. So you came here looking for me, and when you couldn’t find me, you went to the library and grabbed those books to pretend you go here on the off chance I’d walk through the door and you could pull this elaborate prank on me?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Kurt chuckled. “Yup. I guess it did. You’re one lucky bastard.”

“That, and I ran into Jeff about half an hour ago. He said you’d probably be along soon.”

“He should know. He’s the reason I’m late, the jerk. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in New York?”

“Yeah …” Sebastian glanced down at his feet, worrying the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker “… well, after a few laps around the world, I got bored and decided it was time to settle down for a while. So I thought I’d come back to the states, go to school and finish my degree.”

“What degree?” Kurt asked, deciding he could afford to miss one Intro to Theater class to catch up with an old friend. Besides, this information was bordering on gossip, and Kurt wasn’t one to kick gossip out of bed.

“Originally, I was going to go into law. Become a states’ attorney like my dad. But it seemed empty to me. So I gave it some thought and asked myself – when was the last time I really enjoyed myself? The last time I was really happy? Aside from driving, the answer to that was music. And since I didn’t see myself becoming the next Dale Earnhardt, Jr. …”

“Mmm … probably not …” Kurt teased.

“… I applied to the music therapy program at NYU.”

Kurt’s nose scrunched. “The same program Blaine’s in?”

“Yup.” Sebastian’s eyes sheepishly found his sneaker again. “I’ll admit, I got the idea from his Facebook posts. It looks like something he really enjoys. Something that adds value to his life. That’s something I need more of – value.” He pinched his lower lip between his teeth. “That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it? I mean, I know we all have a past and everything but …”

“But we’ve gotten over it,” Kurt said. “I swear. Color me a little bit shocked, but that’s all. How big of an asshole would I have to be if I said ‘I know you finally found your purpose in life, but you need to give it up and leave’?”

“Pretty big,” Sebastian agreed.

“That doesn’t mean it’s open season on my man or anything.”

“Dammit!” Sebastian snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “I’m heading his way now, and I was hoping for a little bathroom bj action.”

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Nice.”

“I’m kidding! Kidding! Please, don’t hate me … or murder me in my sleep.”

“Hmph! I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian nodded, the last dregs of laughter fading in his throat. “All joking aside, I wanted to connect with you first. I wanted you to hear from me instead of Blaine that I was here.” Sebastian looked Kurt up and down, but not in the way he used to. Not in a way that made Kurt’s skin crawl. This was a different Sebastian Smythe. A new Sebastian Smythe. Kurt hoped this one stuck around for a while. “You look good.” 

“Thanks,” Kurt said, grateful that Sebastian overlooked the drowned rat aesthetic he was still sporting. “So do you.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. You look happier. More ...” The first word that jumped to Kurt’s mind was mature, but he thought that would make him sound conceited “… put together.”

“It helps when you leave drama behind you and get your shit straightened out. Maybe now I can focus on the important things.”

“If you need anything, let us know,” Kurt said, offering Sebastian one last hug.

“I will.” Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt’s torso and gave him a squeeze. He slipped Kurt’s bag over his shoulder, adjusting the curled strap for longer than necessary. “I have to go. Time to head over to NYU and bug your boyfriend.”

“He’ll be at lunch in about an hour. You can catch him at Kimmel Marketplace. Oh, and if you see Nick, do me a favor and punch him in the shoulder for me. I have to hunt down Jeff and do the same.”

“Of course, but why?”

“Oh, they know what they’ve done.”

***

“So, you’re moving, huh?” Green eyes narrowed to judgmental slits, waiting for Blaine to answer.

“Uh … yeah,” Blaine replied, fishing through his bag for his notebook. He was supposed to have three, but he could only find two. He smirked, wondering if Kurt had grabbed it by accident, seeing how distracted he was when he ran out to catch his train this morning.

Blaine felt slightly guilty for that one. Kurt blamed Jeff and Nick’s absence for his lateness.

But Blaine had been doing the distracting.

“And whose idea was that?”

“My boyfriend wanted to move and I thought it was a good idea, so … yeah.” Blaine grunted, pulling out each item one by one and stacking it neatly on the cafeteria table. “That’s pretty much how that went down.”

“I see.” Paul brushed a lock of blond hair out of his face and sipped his coffee, perturbed by this recent development. The apartment Blaine lived in (though Paul had never been there) was only a few subway stops away from NYU. Everything Blaine could ever need was here on campus. Everything. So he didn’t need to move. But apparently that wasn’t Blaine’s decision to make. His boyfriend did.  “Where to?”

“A loft out in Bushwick.”

“Bushwick?” Paul’s whole face crumpled in disgust. “Where the hell is Bushwick? It sounds like a slum.”

“It’s in Brooklyn. It’s actually a pretty nice neighborhood.”

“But what about all that travel? It’s still Brooklyn.”

“It’s not that big a deal. Besides, it’s worth it. You should see the place. It’s enormous!”

Paul smiled, the piercings in his dimples mirroring the glint in his eyes. “Is that an invitation?”

“Sure. I guess. I mean, I should step up and host study night now that I have the space. I’m sure Kurt won’t mind. I can probably connive him into making some snacks. He’s an amazing cook.”

“I’ll bet,” Paul said dryly. “You know, the course load only gets harder from here on out, so I hear. You really should consider living closer to campus.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been looking at the classifieds lately, but places near campus cost an arm and a leg. I’d like to keep mine for now. I’m not even in grad school yet,” Blaine said, chuckling at his own joke.

“Maybe you could find someone to bunk with during the week,” Paul suggested, sliding closer while Blaine had his back turned, head deep inside his bag, “and go to your loft on the weekends. I know a couple of guys who do that.” He snapped his fingers as if he just came up with a genius idea. “I have a fold-out couch. You can bunk with me whenever you’re working late, or you’re too tired to ride the subway … or you don’t want to go home.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d miss my boyfriend too much.” Blaine yanked out a handful of letters from Kurt and piled them on top of his text books. Paul watched, his lip curling once he noticed the flowery handwriting. “I can handle the extra commute. I’m a big boy.”

Paul grinned, looking Blaine over behind the safety of Blaine’s back, stopping when his eyes reached his ass. “I’m sure you are.”

“Anderson! Hey, Anderson!”

Blaine grinned to his eyebrows before he looked up. He’d recognize that voice, booming his name, anywhere. He’d heard rumors. He didn’t know if they’d be true.

Apparently, they were.

Walking through the cafeteria crowd came Sebastian Smythe, sauntering toward him, reminiscent of the first day they met in the commons at Dalton.

God! That simultaneously seemed like yesterday and ten years ago. Where had the time gone?

“Are you kidding me? Where in the hell did you come from?” Blaine leapt out of his seat and into Sebastian’s arms. “Last I heard, you were in London? Madrid?”

“Paris,” Sebastian said, lifting Blaine up a foot off the ground just because he could. “I just came from NYADA. Had a little fun scaring the shit out of your man. He said you might be here. Speaking of …” Sebastian’s smile dropped like a lead balloon when he caught sight of the guy  with the bottle blond mop and garish crayon red tips glaring daggers at him, as if he and Blaine had been enjoying an intimate lunch and Sebastian was intruding “… who the hell is this?”

“This is Paul Johnson,” Blaine said. “He’s my lab partner this semester.”

Sebastian didn’t offer him a hand. Paul didn’t offer one either.

“Yes,” Paul said, “but we’ve known one another since freshman year, so …” He left it open-ended, as if there were a whole history of him and Blaine understood within the invisible brackets bookmarking that unfinished statement. It was pretentious, and as a once pretentious person himself, it rubbed Sebastian the wrong way.

Blaine, however, didn’t seem to notice.

“Paul Johnson?” Sebastian huffed. “That sounds like a stripper name. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Stripping is a noble profession.”

Paul’s jaw locked tight. Blaine clapped Sebastian on the shoulder.

“Play nice,” he said. “So, what’s up? Did you get your books and shit? Do you know what classes you’re taking?”

“Haven’t got my books yet, dad,” Sebastian teased, “but I have my course list.” He handed Blaine his phone with his schedule listed on the screen. “According to this, I’ve got to get myself one of those …” He gestured dismissively at Paul.

“Too bad you weren’t here a few weeks ago. We could have been partners.”

From the corner of his eye, Sebastian saw Paul grimace.

“Wouldn’t that have been a hoot? Then I could have kept you out of trouble. Now I’ve gotta stalk your ass.” Another glare from Paul, but this time Sebastian matched it and held it, not blinking until Paul backed down … which he did, returning to the task of sulking inside his coffee cup. “Hey, do you happen to know where Nick is?”

“Uh, I think he’s at his internship already. Brown, Smith, Simon, and Kent on 5th Avenue. Why do you ask?”

“I’m supposed to punch him. Per Kurt’s request.” Sebastian pounded his left palm with his right fist and side-eyed Paul. “I could punch you instead. Something tells me Kurt would approve.”

“Ha … ha …” Blaine stepped between Sebastian and Paul and gave his old friend another hug. “It’s good to see you again, man, but unfortunately, we’ve got to get back to work.”

“Yes,” Paul said, his smug smile replacing the perma-glare on his face, “we’ve got to get back to work.”

“And I’ve got to swing by admissions,” Sebastian said, ignoring Paul, “but we’ll get together soon, right?”

“Absolutely! Did Kurt tell you about the new loft?”

“Nah. We only had time for a small make-out sesh. We didn’t get that far.”

Blaine raised an unamused brow. “You’re full of the jokes today, aren’t you?”

“He’s full of something,” Paul grumbled.

“Just excited to be back. And tryin’ to keep you on your toes. I’m harmless ... mostly.” Sebastian bumped the table with his thigh. Paul’s coffee cup tipped, sending him scrambling to catch it before it could fall off the edge.

“Right,” Blaine said, mildly confused. “I’ll shoot you the deets and you can come by for dinner. Otherwise, we’ll see you around campus?”

Sebastian threw a look over his shoulder, and since Paul had been boring holes in his back the whole time, willing him to move the hell on, he was in prime position to catch it. “I’m looking forward to it.”