#but i could not find what dye to use for the boots

[neriyon]

Glamtober - Day 10: Pirate or Cowboy

/showleft PirateAU Naho! Or maybe more of a "what if she never left her parent's ship and stayed to become a pirate?". I think she's happier where she currently is (travelling Eorzea), but her dad and the ship's crew sure miss their little songbird.

Gryphonskin Bandana

Holy Rainbow Shirt of Scouting (Lilac Purple)

Miqo'te Gloves (Ash Grey)

Lucian Prince's Bottoms (Ash Grey)

Expeditioner's Thighboots (Lilac Purple)

Steel Daggers

Dodo Earring

[misseviehyde]

BOTTLE IT

Mike loved his girlfriend Ashton so much, but she really did have a confidence problem. It was the sixth time she had tried to pass her driving test and failed.

"Oh dear," whimpered Ashton as she reversed over a bicycle and crushed it... the examiner shaking his head as he ticked fail yet again.

The stupid thing was, Ashton was a great driver. When relaxed she was brilliant... but as soon as she was put under any pressure her confidence crumbled and she bottled it.

Michael comforted Ashton as she cried on his shoulder. "I can't do anything right," she wept.

It wasn't just the driving test. Ashton was a real wallflower and would lose her nerve as soon as any pressure was applied. Michael wished he could find a way to boost her fragile confidence.

But how?

***

"Here, give your girlfriend this blonde hair dye and I promise her confidence will swell," smirked Michael's bitchy step-sister Gina. "Everyone knows blonde girls are more confident. Convince her to go blonde and I promise she'll never go back."

Michael didn't entirely trust his step-sister, but the bottle of confidence boosting blonde hair dye did seem like a thoughtful idea. Perhaps the psychological effect alone would make Ashton more bold and confident.

Michael knew that Ashton would be against using this dye, so he swapped it out for her usual hair colour and waited. He was sure she would forgive him once she saw the results.

***

Ashton hummed to herself as she lathered her hair with her usual dark brown hair dye and waited for it to take effect. It smelt and felt different this time, and as she rubbed it in she felt a strange erotic tingle throb through her body.

Ashton's eyes widened as she watched her hair sparkle and glow. A vivid blonde streak suddenly flashed through her hair, then another and another.

She moaned, her scalp tingling and throbbing deliciously as the dye was absorbed in. This was no ordinary dye, it was magical and she gasped as her hair lengthened and grew, turning blonder and silkier as it transformed.

Ashton groaned as her skin tanned and her flat boobed chest swelled and expanded. Her lips curled into a cruel bitchy smirk as her lashes lengthened and sharp pink nails shot from her fingers.

"Fuckkk yessssss," she hissed as a surge of power and confidence throbbed through her body. She laughed, tossing back her hair and giggling as her flabby body toned up. Stretching her toned body, Ashton grinned as she grew taller and more curvaceous. Her tits were now large and firm, her ass perfect. Her body posture changed to become confident and bossy.

"This is soooo much fucking better," she purred. "That fucking loser Ashton is dead... I am Ash now."

***

Ash grinned as she straddled her new boyfriends bike and looked over at the weeping loser on the road.

She'd kicked Michael over with with one of her booted heels, knocking him out of her way when the pathetic wimp had tried to stop her getting on the bike with Marlon.

"How many times do I have to tell you loser? I'm Marlon's girl now."

Ash's pussy was already wet and she could feel her superior new boyfriends big cock was rock hard through his jeans. He loved seeing his new woman crush losers.

Ash was so horny for her badboy lover. She wished she could fuck him right here and show the world what a stud he was. In fact she was tempted - it wasn't like she lacked the confidence anymore.

Since dying her hair Ash had quit her dead-end job and started working as a dancer in a bar. That was where she had met the biker gang and instantly been accepted as their newest recruit. She even had a tattoo on her lower back, the gangs emblem. She was a biker bitch for life now.

"Ashton, please. My step sister tricked me. That dye has turned you into an evil biker bitch. You have to listen."

Ignoring Michael, Ash kissed Marlon, her tongue in his mouth. Then spinning round she giggled as he groped her tits with one hand and used his other to grab the handle bars.

Ash had passed her driving test weeks ago, easily getting a perfect performance... especially when she sucked off the examiner. She loved driving, but her real passion was for motorbikes.

Ash couldn't wait to buy her own and join the gang for real, but for now she would ride with Marlon... in every sense.

Laughing wildly, she turned her eyes to the road as Marlon gunned the bike and they set off into the future. Her pathetic cuck of a boyfriend was left weeping, wishing his innocent and kind girlfriend would return.

But Ashton was dead. Ash had taken her place and this bad bitch was here to stay.

Blondes really do have more fun.

[amomentsescape]

Bro, I love your writing so much and it’s so cool to see some new Gotham stuff pop up on my feed s🥹❤️❤️🥹❤️🥹 if it’s alright, could I please have some fluffy and slightly suggestive headcanons of some Gotham boys, including but not limited to the J squad, with a punk or alt s/o? If you don’t want to do anything suggestive, tho, I totally understand

Please and thank you in advance if you decide to do this ❤️

J Squad + Oswald, Victor, & Bruce with Punk! Reader

Includes: Jerome, Jonathan, Jervis, Oswald, Victor, Bruce

A/N: I hope you enjoy! I wasn't able to make every character suggestive, but I tried my best to make the HC's fit your request!

Jerome Valeska

He loves your aesthetic

Has asked you time and time again to help him get dressed before a heist

Thinks your outfits would not only look badass while murdering people, but they would also help you blend in at night

"Practical and sexy, doll"

Loves when you place your tall, leather combat boot on his leg, asking him sweetly to help you lace it up

He likes to trace his fingers along your leg at this, sometimes going a little too high which earns him a swift smack to the hand

He just lets out a chuckle at this

"I'll get you back later..."

If you're out and about and he notices people looking at you, he immediately helps you embrace it

Will twirl you around in the middle of the street and place a big kiss to your lips

Whispers in your ear how gorgeous and sexy you are whenever he gets the chance

If he's out on a heist and he sees something he thinks you'll like, he'll take it

Even if it steers him off his current mission a bit

Starts having you paint his nails religiously as "good luck"

But in reality, he just likes how his pretty fingertips look wrapped around your neck

Jonathan Crane

This sweet boy is in awe of you

Your edgy looks, your interests, everything

He's never been introduced into this genre before, but you've opened a whole new world for him

Absolutely falls in love with the music you listen to

He just connects to it so well

He also adores being a dress up doll for you

Want to try out a new makeup look on him? Go for it.

You want to see what he'd look like in an edgier outfit? He's ready.

You want to dye his hair a crazy, experimental color? Let's do it!

Seeing him dressed similar to you empowers him in a way

He's used to being hidden in the background, so you pulling him away from that insecurity is like a completely different life to him

Gets extra touchy when you have chokers on

Will softly give you little kisses just above and below the accessory

He's ashamed of it, but he lets his eyes wander for just a little too long when you get all dressed up

He tries to hide it but will turn into a huge blushing and stuttering mess if you catch him in the act

Jervis Tetch

He's definitely intrigued by you

He's used to his world being full of chaotic color and fantasy

But you have this certain edge and uniqueness about you that he hasn't come across before

They say opposites attract for a reason

He feels like you balance him out

You actually help him feel his emotions and openly discuss the things floating around in his head

But of course, being opposites still come with a few disagreements

He finds your taste in music and makeup a little... much

His taste is a little softer and more elegant, but he's not one to judge what you enjoy

He's just tried listening to a couple of your favorite songs and found them scary

He's also not very knowledgeable in this particular genre

So if you bring up something, he'll simply look at you like you've grown a third head

But besides that, he's overall supportive on whatever you want to wear or do

Loves when you both get dressed up together for a night out

It gives him a deep sense of thrill when people look at you both while out

You two may have opposite styles, but your aesthetics are similar in the fact that they don't "fit in" with the public eye

And Jervis honestly loves that

Oswald Cobblepot

You caught Oswald's eye almost immediately when he first encountered you

Something about the way you held yourself drew him in

And when he got to know you?

He was so interested

He wanted to learn more about your clothing choices, the music and art styles you liked, what made you interested in the aesthetic, etc.

He might not share the same exact passion for the things you do, but he will always be very respectful on supporting your interests

He also just finds your look to be super attractive

He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself becoming a little more submissive around you

He's used to throwing out orders and making decisions in his normal day-to-day life

But coming home to you immediately allows him let go of those reigns

You just tell him what to do, and he'll do it

You've accidentally gotten him to whimper a couple times just by complimenting him or giving him words of praise

When you kiss him, you can feel his whole body fall into you

He literally turns into Jello

But he's still an emotional man too, so give him lots of love and attention, and he'll be fully content

Victor Zsasz

Well, obviously he adores how you look

I mean, he wouldn't consider his own look to be punk, but he's aware that he's taken inspiration from the genre in the past

Honestly thinks you two make a badass duo

Even the Zsaszettes admire you whenever you're around

He also likes how easy it is to spot you in a crowd

Not that he stalks you while he's out "working" or anything

He loves your normal outfits of course, but if you wear anything that shows a little skin?

Oh boy, does that dark gleam shine in his eye

He just about sinks his teeth into you (literally)

Victor is known to keep his cool no matter what, but you are able to tell when he really likes a particular outfit that day

A hand on your lower back, a lingering glance, and a teasing smile are all signs

But he also will not hesitate to pinch your butt at the most random times too, public or not

Makes you hold his weapons sometimes because he thinks they make you look even edgier

He also has a thing for any piercings you have too

He's not sure what it is, but he's fascinated with how the cool metal sinks into your skin

He'll play with them too if you let him

He's careful not to hurt you

Unless that's what you want, of course...

Bruce Wayne

He honestly doesn't really think anything of it or notice it much

Which isn't a bad thing by any means

Bruce doesn't judge based on looks, so however you decide to present yourself is just who you are in his eyes

But he also cares a lot about your interests

He'll happily sit beside you and listen to your music, shop with you for new clothes, and come with you for your latest piercing or tattoo

You name it, he's there

If it means a lot to you, then it means a lot to him

But he does think it's pretty cool to have such a badass partner

Has helped you dye your hair a handful of times

He kind of gets a slight thrill from knowing that he's the only one that gets to see all sides to you

People may see you one way when you're out in public, but he also gets to see you when you're at home sleeping in his bed or cuddled up on his couch watching some crazy show he's never heard of

He just likes knowing that he gets all of you

He finds it pretty romantic

Really likes any leather pieces you own

You may have persuaded him to buy a couple jackets based on ones that you already had in your closet

But he especially loves the leather on you

Becomes a bit touchier when you have it on, tracing his hands along the material

He thinks it looks great on you and will definitely let his gaze linger a little longer than usual

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 5

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Gossip, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, singular use of a petname.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Masterlist Previous Next

x x x

After Douglass had made a big fuss, words of the letters had spread across Thorpe Abbotts like wild fire. Everyone was pointing their fingers at possible culprits, bringing the once quiet situation to absolute chaos. It had been weeks since a letter had arrived, the writer forced into hiding from the attention. The men had gone to Africa, their numbers dwindling on the journey, a few notable losses were Curt and Dickie. Replacements had arrived- you held such a hatred for that word.

You craved your own peace more and more as the days passed by. You had found a spot in the empty field passed the runways that was void of people, Lemmons crew left you alone.

“What are you doing out here?” Blakely’s boots crunced the weeds as he approached, his shadow blocking the sun from your eyes as they fluttered open.

“It’s usually quiet out here,” Your tone was teasing, “No questions, accusations or chatter. Just the birds, the breeze and occasionally the hum of a few planes. What are you doing out here?”

“You’ve got mail.”

You sat upright, brushing blades of grass from where they stuck to your dress. “New duty, Blakely?”

“You know you can call me Everett, I’d like to think we are friends of some sort.” He huffed as he handed over the mail. Three envelopes: one from home, one with a return adress of New York City and finally a new letter that was missing a return adress.

“Did Douglass send you out here? Since he is ever so concerned that he couldn’t help himself but to corner me in front of atleast half the company.”

“Carrier said they hadn’t seen you all day, entrusted me with your mail but you really ought to talk to Dougie, he feels terrible for bringing you attention like that.”

“I believe Lieutenant Dye’s celebration is underway, I thought you would be there?” You changed the subject, avoiding Blakely’s words just as you had been avoiding the man they were about.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you later on, save me a dance?”

You sent him a nod of agreement, waiting for him to be out of sight before turning your attention to the letters he had delivered.

You read the letter from home first, it was filled with the ususal wishes for your wellbeing and updates on events or gossip that you had missed. You did not recognize the loopy femine cursive on the envelope adressed from New York and it felt very thin between your fingertips. You open the flap, revealing only a single photograph inside. A man and woman in a busy street, he was handsome in his dress greens and she donned a plain yet elegant wedding gown… but it was not just a photograph of two strangers. Your fingertips gently ran over the mans face, absorbing his features as this was the first time you had set eyes on him since he had left you broken hearted on his porch not quite a year ago. There was a date written on the back of the picture, August 20 1943.

Despite the deep ache in your chest from the photograph, a spark of excitment filled you as you opened the third envelope. There had been a drought of letters from your Secret Admirer since the secret flooded the base, you had missed reading his words more than you had liked to admit.

“I did not intend to draw such attention and for that I must apologize. I have come to the conclusion if any of the men were to find out that these clandestine correspondence were written by me, I would be heckled for my aberrant ways. I am not perceived as a romantic, many see me to be brash and arrogent but since I met you I have been reformed. I feel a fool to be so cowardess with my affections while the possibility of death looms so heavily but I fear my mind over heart mentality will not crumble.”

Your mind spun, it was someone unexpected but who? With each letter you felt more more drawn to his words and your eagerness to discover the identity of the writer grew.

You clutched the recent letter and the photograph to your chest as you lay in the field, unbothered by the setting sun.

Hours had passed, the field had been swallowed by darkness but your body felt too heavy to move under the weight of the papers on your chest. The quiet yet rough trampling of the tall grass behind you alerted you to a new presence.

“If Blakely told you I was out here then he can find himself another dance partner.” You spoke loudly, nearly startling the man as he had not seen your silhoutte on the ground in the darkness, despite actively searching for you.

“That is a shame.”

The voice was unexpected, you honestly had expected it to be Douglass or DeMarco, maybe even Blakely with the intention of dragging you to the party but surely not Major Egan.

“Major, I thought you would be at Dye’s celebration?” Your eyes found his through the darkness as he now towered over you.

“I could say the same for you. Blakely mentioned you were out here earlier but when you failed to show at the party some of the men got worried. I volunteered to come check on you, I don’t think it’s safe to be out here in the dark like this.”

“I would hate to damper the celebration.”

“It got dampered anyway, sweetheart,” He moved to lay on the ground next to you, unbothered by any stains the grass may leave on his uniform, “By the men we have lost and the men we will lose.”

It was quiet for awhile, both enjoying the silent company of another person, unaware of the battling thoughts happening in the others brain. Your worries felt silly compared to his, he had lost friends and men under his command, you briefly wondered if he had volenteered to find you to escape the ghosts of them at the party.

It was silent for a moment before the Major spoke again, “The stars sure are pretty out here.”

Your eyes searched around the clouds, only a few bright stars visable in the dark of the night. “When they peek out of the clouds anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

The genuine concern in his question had taken you off guard. You took a second to debate how much you were willing to share with the Major as every aspect of your life had been previously aired, but remembered divulging a little to him before Dougie had brought attention. You handed the Major the photo you had recieved, glancing over as he angled it under the moonlight to see it clearly. “Before the war, it was all him, he was the one I would marry and bare my soul to. Suddenly everything changed, he had enlisted and just a week before our wedding I discovered that he was being unfaithful. I was foolishly willing to forgive him but he chose her, now they are married and I am here; my lonely soul wondering what is next for me, if my soulmate is out there somewhere or perhaps I am just unlucky and he won’t make it through this war so I shall forever be alone.”

You swallowed harshly, washing the thickness from your throat as your eyes burned looking up at the stars.

“What of your writer?” Egan returned the picture, his eyes scanning your face as the grass fanned your cheeks in the soft night breeze.

“How am I supposed to call someone mine if I don’t even know their name?” You sighed, heavily as if to lesson the weight, “I wish I could tell him that he makes the ache in my heart bearable.”

x x x

@jointherebellion215 @orchiidflwer

[tuckedawaytulip]

Ive been really curious as to how Spidey gets his suits. Because they clearly get damaged frequently, but he's also poor and probably cant afford to get a full body suit like his remade every single time. So my brainstorming about this, and a spideypool idea from that at the bottom, is below the read more.

At this point the best idea I have is its made from his webs, but dyed and processed in a way that prevents it from dissolving, or maybe he produces a different variety of webbing that doesnt dissolve.

He is shown to be able to produce larger sheets of webbing like a parachute, so what if he just obtained one of those like walmart mannequins the same size as him, modified it probably to better suit his form, wraps it in webbing, then dyes it like fabric.

Maybe using some sort of stencil he makes to make it easier to apply the black web design? Maybe thats on there to make patching holes easier? That way he can patch specific squares of the suit instead of large sections

The mannequin would probably make it easier to apply whatever the black webs sections are made of.

He could do multiple layers of webbing to insulate it during winter, or do the webs atop a sweater and long johns. He probably uses thrift stores for a lot of supplies that he cant make or something.

Plus most mannequins separate at the same spots his suit separates at, save for how his sleeves dont usually come off. I tried to find images of mannequins, and the ones I saw look to come apart at the neck, shoulders, hips, ankles, and wrist. His suit usually is a mask, the top shirt section, pants, gloves, and boots. Separating the mannequin into parts would probably make it easier to work with too. He could take the arms off to make dying the blue/black sections easier too.

If he uses a mannequin to make his suit, then itd be funny if the first time Deadpool stops by his apartment he just sees this ominous figure standing there in the corner, but its just some really stained old mannequin he found at a yard sale or something.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

A Kindness

CW: Runaway whumpee, referenced hunger/malnourishment

Timeline: After Jameson escaped from Robert but before he found a safehouse

For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 3: A Long Cold Night

-

It’s fucking freezing out here. Jameson thought California wasn’t supposed to get cold like this, but just his goddamn luck, it definitely does. 

He’s curled up against the heavy concrete beneath the overpass, using it to block the worst of the wind. There are a scattering of tents around him, others who have figured out some slim form of shelter. There’s a couple fires going, too, but Jameson doesn’t want anything to do with the people circled around them, sharing stories and in-jokes. They’ve been out here for long enough to know each other. To trust each other, more or less.

Like everywhere else he goes, Jameson doesn’t fit.

He sure as fuck doesn't trust.

When he finds other runaway pets, they think he’s frightening. The twisted scar near his mouth catches the firelight too well. He's too brash, too angry, someone who might be violent.

When he tries to stick around non-pets, they read him like a book and treat him like shit on the bottom of their shoes. Or try to sneak up on him when he sleeps and get a hand down his pants, assuming that he won’t fight back, because everyone knows Box Boys will lie back and take it, right?

Well, Jameson isn’t like other pets.

He isn't just any Box Boy.

Nanda taught him how to survive, no matter what it cost. Nanda taught him-

Goddamn fucking dead Nanda.

If he wasn't so fucking dead none of this would be happening.

Jameson closes his eyes against a hot rush of tears he refuses to allow out, not now. Not when he knows he's being watched, considered for whether he might have a few dollars that could be stolen or if he could be held down and made to accept their touch. He won't be.

The ones who try learn that real fast not to try again, once they have busted lips and black eyes and, in one case, a set of balls so bruised and twisted that the asshole who tried to make Jameson kneel for him is definitely sterile now.

Cold nights make his legs ache, the final loving legacy of the braces he’d worn for too long that never let him stand all the way up. Two goddamn assholes had put those on him, and he'll never be free of the pain. Jameson ignores it, grinds his teeth until his jaw hurts worse than his legs ever could. He can ignore it just fine until the weather gets cold.

Mostly.

There’s a scraping off to his left, footsteps crunching on gravel and shards of broken glass. Jameson’s knife is in his hand as easily as he breathes and he’s already got it brandished when he turns, putting a sneer on his face, leaning into the ugliness of the scar that twists one side of his mouth more than the other. “Listen, motherfucker, try to stick your dick anywhere near me and I’ll fucking cut it off-... shit.”

His voice dies as he takes her in.

She’s small, almost dainty looking. He reads her for what she is in a heartbeat, the grace in every movement carefully trained until it was no longer a conscious choice, the soft skin that had spent a long time moisturized and cared for at odds with the hackjob and clumsy box-dye red she’d done to her hair to try and make herself less recognizable. She’s drowning in a man’s overcoat at least four sizes too big and so long it’s dragging the ground, heavy boots that she has to be wearing at least three pairs of socks to fit into. She’s wearing leather driving gloves too big for her hands. 

Her eyes are wide and frightened.

But she's not frightened of him.

She reads him right back, and they recognize each other before a single real word is said. She manages a slight, trembling smile. Jameson feels the snarl fade off his own face. They might have trained together, not that he remembers much of training.

“... can I sit with you tonight?” She asks, voice low, glancing nervously over her shoulder and then back to him. “Please? You’re, you were one too, right?”

Jameson’s jaw works.

He should tell her to fuck off, this is his spot, leave him alone. That he’s not nice, he’s no one anyone can trust. He’s been owned three times and twice they made him live on his hands and knees, once he starved, once he watched people die over and over again until he sees their faces every time he sleeps. 

He didn't deserve to be the one who lived after it all, but he's the one who would do anything not to die, so here they are. Here they fucking are.

Instead of rejecting her need for even one small kindness, he replies instead, "Yeah, whatever. Go ahead. Don't try to talk to me about it, though."

He closes the knife, letting it slide back into his pocket as she makes her way to him, dropping down to sit beside him, curling her knees to her chest and pulling a hood up over her head. Jameson feels… settled, at the gentle unassuming touch, her weight barely noticeable when she leans slowly until her head rests on his shoulder. She smells kind of gross, but he probably does, too. Who knows when either of them last showered?

“Sorry,” She whispers as she slides her gloved hand into his, twining their fingers together. 

“Uh-... what-... what the fuck are you doing-”

“There’s a guy who won’t stop following me around.” She keeps her voice low, turning and lifting her chin so she’s almost kissing Jameson’s cheek right over his scar as she speaks. “I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you-... just pretend to be, for a while? We’re good at pretending we’re in relationships, you can do it, right? I knew when I saw you that you’d been like me.”

Jameson fights the twist of pain.

Pretending we’re in relationships.

That’s as close as he’s ever going to get, and even that was ripped away from him. Jameson never even got to tell him-

He shuts that thought down.

He doesn’t think about Nanda anymore. He doesn’t think about anyone unless it’s to hate them - that’s easier. 

All he does is nod, giving a smile - fake but to anyone else it looks warmly genuine. He can make any expression an owner wants on command, still - the scars and bald patches where hair used to be, rubbed away by the muzzle day after day, make it a little scarier. But it never looks like a lie. 

“I got you,” He murmurs back, and kisses her forehead like they’ve known each other for forever. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a man lurking, skulking around, one eye on the girl all the time, watching Jameson slide an arm around her waist with barely concealed jealousy. Jameson shoots him a serene smile, pulling the girl tightly against him. 

It’s going to be a long, cold night, and he’s not going to sleep at all.

The girl dozes off almost immediately, finally feeling safe enough to sleep, and that… that helps. A little bit. 

It's a kindness.

-

@finder-of-rings  @endless-whump  @arlin-always-writing  @newandfiguringitout  @doveotions  @pretty-face-breaker  @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow  @boxboysandotherwhump  @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes  @yet-another-heathen @whumptywhumpdump  @whumpiary  @orchidscript  @outofangband  @eatyourdamnpears  @hackles-up  @grizzlie70  @mylifeisonthebookshelf  @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[selkies-world]

Sign the petition to demand the creation of a new international law requiring fast-fashion garments to come with a statement of the human cost and environmental harm caused by their creation.

We all know fast fashion is bad for the planet - slave labor, environmental waste, air and water pollution, and unsustainable practices are just a few of the ways they impact our planet, our health and our lives. To date, the fast fashion industry is the 2nd largest consumer of water and is single-handedly responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions (that's more than all international flights and maritime shipping across a year combined). Even the simple act of washing these clothes releases 500,000 tons of microfibers into the ocean each year - that's equal to 50,000 plastic bottles. Fast-fashion is the 3rd leading cause of the climate crises we face, yet is rarely addressed.

Knowing these stats is one thing, and understanding them is important. Being aware of them is somewhat informative. But as long as we keep turning a blind eye to the issue, the stats are only going to get worse, and nothing will change for the better. Ignoring the issue or brushing it under the rug won't help anything. So what if we could see the real-world damage done by each of the garments we buy?

In the same way that cigarette packets have shown the harm their products do to our bodies ("SMOKING KILLS", lung cancer visualizations, etc.), what if fast fashion manufacturers & retailers had to show the harm their products do to our planet?

[Image ID: A type-writer font has been used on a brown craft paper background. The text reads: "32 animals lost their habitat to the field where my crops were planted - 2 of those animals are already endangered species. 2,700 litres of water were used in my production. I was made in a sweatshop enslaving men and women aged 16 - 45, and children aged 6 - 14. I contain 0.22kg of carbon dioxide dye." End ID.]

This is a mock-up of a label / statement for a single T-shirt, with researched statistics and educated estimates for the information I couldn't find a calculated answer for.

Now imagine labels / statements like this for every single piece of clothing: how many toxic chemicals are in those new jeans? How many litres of water did that shirt take to make? How many animals were skinned to make those cute fur-trimmed boots? How many children made that jumper? How many people were forcibly removed from their homes, so production companies could plant crops to grow the materials used in clothes manufacturing? How many families were evicted for no reason other than corporate greed? How many trees were cut down? How many animals were displaced or killed?

Would you really want to buy those items of clothing if the answers to those questions were staring you in the face?

If this information was stated in clear, accessible ways on both the website and the ticket on the actual garment, this would dramatically reduce the number of people buying fast fashion items. It would also reduce the profits being made by fast fashion companies, and could lead to many of them being forced to choose between changing and becoming sustainable, eco-froendly and ethical brands, or shutting down due to being boycotted.

Who would really want to knowingly buy things that are made by slaves, or which cost a family their home, or which contributed to deforestation? Who would continue to buy fast fashion items knowing this is the damage caused by them, when sustainable alternatives are an option?

Whether it's second-hand fashion at affordable prices, or investing more money in sustainable products which were made with high ethical standards and which cost more money due to the fact their price accounts for the time it took a person to make that item... we can say for certain that sustainable shopping is going to become much more popular if people know how important that change is. Sustainable items last much longer than fast-fashion items, which by design are created to self-destruct, as they are made to be worn a few times and then discarded in order to be replaced by the next trend's items - and as trends speed up, these items become weaker and weaker. This then leads to people spending more money in order to keep up with the newest trends, and to keep replacing clothes they throw out after a few washes.

In contrast, buying sustainable items which are designed to last years means people won't have to spend money on new clothes every few weeks, which means they'll ultimately save money in the long term and actually be able to afford those pricier items which will last much, much longer.

Now, despite the amount of harm the fast-fashion industry causes to people and the environment, the last thing we should be doing is getting angry at those who continue to buy them. Being the target of anger doesn't make large populations change their behaviour - even a cursory look through history books will tell us that much. Neither does being the target of resentment or blame.

But guilt? Shame? Those are two of the most powerful emotions to magnify when you want change to happen in waves.

And frankly, if people feel ashamed of buying something, or if buying something makes them feel guilty... they're going to stop buying it.

Those aren't the only emotions that should be felt, though. Because only feeling guilt and shame leads to feeling hopeless, scared, anxious and depressed. And we don't want that. No matter how bad things get... we don't want that.

The only other emotions to provoke are hope and pride.

If there's no hope for the future, how can anyone be expected to imagine a better one?

You wouldn't think it, what with all the climate crises and disasters we experience around the world and the total lack of commitment made by billionaires, multimillion-dollar companies and corporations and politicians.

But it's true. Scientists in Scotland have discovered bacteria which eat plastic and speed up the decomposition of it. ‘Ecocide’ is now punishable by law. Some countries within the EU are already close to meeting their 2030 goals years ahead of schedule! Thanks to scientists and small, individual changes made on a massive scale by ordinary people who are making small adjustments to our everyday choices, we can and are healing most of the ozone layer before 2050. That is something we should all feel incredibly proud of.

So imagine how much we could speed that process up if more people made those changes. Imagine how much sooner we could heal our planet if billions of people made those changes, rather than millions. Imagine how much sooner we could be seeing the effects of a healthier planet if fast fashion companies were forced to choose between going green and transparent, or closing altogether due to a lack of interest from consumers. Imagine the changes we could create if corporations made massive changes in a short amount of time, in order to save their own profits.

Imagine more labels like this, sitting alongside each other on every single piece of fast fashion clothing. A statement like this beneath every item of clothing on fast fashion websites, which transparently states the harm done.

If every single fast-fashion company and store had to display this on their clothing, on their racks, on their websites, and if there were legal punishments for those who tried to evade or lie... fashion would turn a lot greener very quickly. We'd start seeing more and more labels with "I'm made from 6 plastic bottles! I used to be a newspaper! I had 0 pesticides used on me in my production! I only contain natural dye made from berries, beans and sustainably grown flowers. I was made from apple skins and corn! The people who made me get to go home to their families every night, have days off and the adults made £150.35 each in 1 week! The animal who made the wool for me is free-range and well-cared for! I came from a small family farm, and was created with a closed-loop water system!”

That'd be a much better civilisation to shop in, don't you agree?

That is hope for the future.

That is motivation, which can fuel ordinary people to do extraordinary things and create changes they thought were impossible.

If you want to be a part of creating this change, sign the Change.org petition which demands the the creation and implementation of an international law which will require all fast-fashion products to be displayed with a statement which states the harm done to people and the planet by that garment being made & shipped.

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 28. Deleterious

Characters: V'anille Tia, Koana, Wuk Lamat, Gulool Ja, U'rahn Nuhn Expansion: Dawntrail Rating: M Summary: V'anille has become feverish and Koana seeks to find out why. Notes: @just-a-geeky-therapist Gave me the plot!

“Koana…,” V’anille breathed out, face flushed and damp from sweat. He sat up, pulling on the arm nearest his bed, nuzzling his face into it before trying to pull him down into his blankets.

“Uh Uh! Wrong guy! Wrong guy” U’rahn panicked, tail thrashing as he tried to resist the other’s pull without hurting him. “Koana, are you any closer to figuring out what is wrong! He’s uh, he’s getting kind of clingy here!”

“Anille is dying! Brother fix him,” Lamtay’i cried out, pawing at the end of the bed as she watched V’anille grow faint and fall back into his pillows again.

“Uncle Anille is going to die!?” Gulool Ja cried out.

“Anille isn’t going to die. Panicking does not help,” Koana breathed out in annoyance as he went through his husband's things, flipping through clothes and treasures gathered from his recent adventure. “I just don’t understand what could have happened to him. He has been living here with us for long enough that an allergy should have shown itself by now,” he huffed. “What was he doing?”

“Rahn and I were posing very heroically with Guloool Ja for a portrait. You know, to celebrate. And then he got all wobbly you see. Then fell over panting. And then we called you here,” Lamaty’i said in short bursts between snuffs. 

Koana sighed then went to the paints, examining them closely before looking over to V’anille’s desk where he made his dyes. He furrowed his brow, looking up at a myriad of hanging flowers left to dry out. “Lamaty’i, did you let V’anille gather flowers unattended?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Lamaty'i asked.

Koana reached up and plucked a dried orchid. “This type of cattleya orchid has a certain effect on Hhestaro. V'anille wouldn't know to be weary of such things Lamaty'i. You should have kept an eye on him.”

“I don't know there was either! Is he going to be okay? Did I kill him!?” Lamaty'i cried.

Koana pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He will be fine with my care.”

“Please let me help! I can gather things for an antidote. Or or,” Lamaty'i offered in a panic. 

“Well, it is something only I can help with,” Koana said, coughing, blush creeping across his face. 

Lamaty'i, U'rahn, and Gulool Ja stared at Koana for a moment before U'rahn perked up and went, “Oooh! Uh. Let's get you back to Solution 9 little guy.”

Gulool Ja blinked then found himself being pulled out of the room by U’rahn. “But I want to make sure Uncle Anille is going to be okay!”

“Uncle Koana is going to take care of him. C’mon Lamatyi. Let’s take the train,” U’rahn suggested.

Lamaty’i frowned then got a nod from her brother that it was okay to leave. “Alright. But as soon as Anille is better let me know!”

“I will Lamaty’i. Go see our nephew home,” Koana said, following his sister to the door and locking it. Turning back to Anille, he loosened his ascot then took a seat at V’anille’s side, brushing his cheek with his palm.

“Koana…I’m so hot. My body feels like it’s on fire,” V’anille panted, pawing at his shirt as he rubbed his face into the other’s palm.

“I know,” Koana said, pulling away to take off his boots before shrugging off his jacket. “The cattleya orchid goes by another name for Hhestaro: Stork Orchids. They’re harmless unless you inhale a large amount of its pollen. When you crafted your dye, you crushed the flowers and thus stirred up enough to get you in this state.”

“I don’t understand,” V’anille said, eyes flitting to Koana’s stomach then up his body as he pulled off shirt.

Koana turned, lowering himself beside V’anille before pulling him forward for a kiss, feeling the other shudder and writhe in the embrace. “You’re experiencing a sort of heat.”

V’anille flushed then nuzzled his head under the other’s chin, pressing against Koana firmly. He swallowed, feeling the other start to rise against him. “I think I…I think I understand. And the cure…is?”

Koana smirked, then leaned in to kiss V’anille again. “Rest and sleep until the effects fade. While I admit this is rather stimulating to have you insatiable, I’d prefer you in an unaltered state. Or have at least knowingly made yourself this way.”

V’anille whined then wrapped his arms around Koana, quietly burning for him until he fell asleep well nuzzled up in his husband’s arms.

[liulfr-j]

FFXIV Cosplay - Rei Ayanami

Saw the NGE McDonalds stuff today and put this together spontaneously. I knew the plug suit lookalike gear was there for melee for years and pretty much knew people were using it for ZSS and NGE cosplay already pretty much exclusively, but wasn't aware the legs don't quite actually dye white? Pearl White gives a brighter white than Pure White, presumably because of whatever material swapping behavior involved in making things shiny, as a weird quirk. I bought Scouting gear because that's what I play but it all seems to dye the same even though the different sets have a different sheen on their default dyes. Have seen a lot of people go dragoon for a big red spear but found it a serendipitous coincidence that the Ruby Weapon Daggers seem to share the distinctive forked design of Longinus from NGE. Also considered some more plain knives but level 8 bronze knives are the blackest military looking knives I could find. AFAIK the most fitting weapon is exclusive to a MCH PVP action (meanwhile we have 7 sword jobs now :/)

Shoes are the type-51 scouting for female from Copied Factory which I happened to have handy, which are conveniently also available in Maiming and Striking varieties like the Late Allagan pieces. I wasn't aware that the female character nier pieces were segmented so weirdly between the foot and leg pieces until I fantasia'd this patch but I got some neat short boots out of it so I'll take it.

Non-melee uniform set included because it's better to have backup outfits than to have to aesthetician every time I wanna switch jobs, but I'm not 100% happy enough with it to take a good gpose set. Might be better options whenever dual-channel dyes expand to more items but most of the current options are disappointing. Riviera Doublet's second channel in particular seems like it only dyes something the first channel should've already effected, but at least gave me something to work with here.

[itsgonnagetinspiringsoon]

ok so i know i've literally never posted abt sanders sides before on this blog (i haven't been keeping up for a few years) but i've been tumbling down a waterslide lined with my old hyperfixations for the last few hours and ended up creating D&D au character designs for the core four sides using heroforge. images and descriptions under the cut if you're interested ❤ bonus points if you can guess what classes they are (this is EXTREMELY self-indulgent so pls forgive the ranting abt them, they're very important to me ok)

First up we have Roman! my beloved. one of my first questions when starting his design was how can i make him look as cunty as possible? the answer: heeled boots and winged eyeliner (It's a little tricky to see but he's got gold metallic eyeliner). I ADORE Roman's colour pallet so i kept it as close to accurate as i could, making white the base colour and accentuating it with the gold armor and the dramatic red shoulder cape as my stand-in for his sash. he's wielding a katana OF COURSE how could he not be. he's slaying ⚔ 🐉 and slaying 💅💋

moving on:

Patton. my baby, my honey, my ragtime gal. i decided to make his hair a little longer than roman's bc i thought it made him look softer and more approachable. it was UNBELIEVABLY hard to find something that sort of replaced his cardigan without looking too chunky but i did like this kind of loose tattered mantle, so i went with that. kept the sky blue shirt and gray cardigan/shawl, but gave him more greyish blue pants so they didn't blend into the shirt too much. glasses are round instead of square bc again i thought they made him look friendlier than the square ones. freckles bc i personally think freckles are very cute and patton is very cute so he got freckles. no shoes he's travelling the realms like the gods intended. the dad vibes are strong i want him to give me a hug 🥺

next up:

logan is quite possibly my favourite side so i really wanted to get his design right. the MOST important thing was giving him his iconic necktie, which ended up being pretty much the same color as his canon design. i couldn't give the tie specifically a pattern, so i made his vest stripy like his tie is in the show and i think it looks really good. his glasses are the more classic nerd ones which is perfect for him and i gave him black eyeliner bc i thought it made him look more serious. i added the coat for more of a d&d look (it doesn't make sense to traverse planes wearing a vest and tie) i think it gives him an extra bit of style that i love.

and last but not least:

the Anxious BoiTM himself (i've only had him for five minutes seven years but if anything happened to him etc etc). virgil's was one of the easiest designs aesthetically and hardest mechanically (you'll never guess what class he is guys i took some BIG swings). I knew i wanted him in black and purple (obviously) and i knew i wanted to give him the iconic purple hair dye and eyeshadow. i almost said screw the genre and put him in a zippered hoodie but i do think that a cloak and cowl would suit him very well (good for hiding in) and i found a combo that looked equally cosy and spooky. a bow is good for attacking long range and keeping out of danger (appropriate for anxiety, i thought) and the mask looks intimidating but actually helps him with sensory overload (with the cowl and mask on he's basically in a mini sensory deprivation bubble). an eyebrow ring bc he's edgy idk why honestly i thought it looked cool.

So that's basically it! As i said before if you can guess their respective classes i'll give you a cookie (🍪). since i can't draw, heroforge is usually my go-to for character creation and i have to recommend it (i think i talk abt this site a lot but 🤷‍♀️) it's so helpful for non-artist types like myself.

I hope you enjoyed! please leave comments if you liked they feed me (if you didn't like it, please just move on and don't let me know, i'm doing this for fun and i don't want any negativity please ❤) @thatsthat24 hope you like 🥰

[goblin-writer]

Sometimes all you need is Magic

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain sluiced through the grand streets and whispered down alleys. The night sky lit starkly by the near constant rolling flashes of lighting. Even the wind could, at times, be roused to run past a window, howling or cackling madly. Flinging about all manner of muck.

Leaves were plastered against windows. Mud adorned the fresh painted walls. And a great many people crowded indoors.

After all, indoors keeps you safe from the predations of the weather. A good roof, closed windows, and well plugged walls all speak to a well-kept household. And many well kept households made a neighbourhood. And these neighbourhoods, when sufficiently, convinced would form a town.

Or even, when the fancy struck, a city.

But every city had a neighbourhood that was less well regarded. Not due to any fault of the people living there. In fact you could often find people that would give you their last left boot if you needed it. Just the left, mind you. The right was, after all, the foot you should keep dry for your so-called helth.

No, the great wizard Mildew thought, these neighbourhoods were often predisposed to being just leeward of the tanneries and dye makers. Just below a sewage outlet. The place the hoipolloi preferred to forget about.

But the rent was cheap, he thought as he emptied the third bucket of the night out the window. Four stories down into a street that was doing its best river impression.

Sure, his roof leaked, and the window didn’t shut properly, but the people here helped replace his books after the book worms got in. They did wreak havoc on the hardcovers. And they had helped when the paint peeled off his wall after his last foray into alchemy.

A sheet of rain drenched the wizard as the storm seemed to think badly of his attempt to pail the water from his study.

“Amon, come quick.” Mildew called and heard a crash from the other room. He shook his head. Amon, his assistant, had a bad habit of pulling down the curtains when called to assist.

He shut and latched the window, daring it to open again.

“Dark and stormy. Just as I get everything packed away from last time.” He turned to the doorway and saw a bundle of cloth making its way toward him, “Careful, Amon.” He unfurled the remains of a blue curtain from a tabby cat, and nuzzled it, “We can’t have you catching a cold. I need you to fetch my flint.”

Amon looked up at Mildew and blinked before turning about and ceremoniously hopping onto the last chair unoccupied by books, curling up and closing his eyes.

Mildew shook his head. He had read that wizards were meant to have cat familiars. They would help with spells and sending messages but every time he asked something of Amon he would get that same blink and no assistance. At least he stopped cleaning himself upon any request. Why did wizards bother with familiars?

He wondered the same as he ventured into the other room. Peeling wallpaper and boxes piled three high. Rifling through first one, then another. With some flint he could cast a protective ward. It would keep at least some rain out.

By box five he despaired in ever finding his flint. And he was enticed to surrender his search as the window crashed open in the other room. With a start he dashed back in, towel in hand, and spread it below the window.

“Where did I leave that flint?” He wondered aloud. Only to be answered once by the crack of lightning and once by the bored meow of Amon. He could imagine what the cat was saying.

Don’t worry Mildew, I know where it is. Just go to the kitchen and bring me a tuna mayonnaise sandwich. Then I’ll give it to you.

“We don’t have tuna, Amon.” He sighed and looked at the cat, “And the flint will help both of us.”

Amon yawned and stood, hopping off the chair, tail high, and sauntered into the bedroom. As Mildew watched he spotted flint and steel next to a candle, dripping its wax into ever higher towers on the back of a pile of leather-bound books.

He closed and latched the window, grabbed the flint and started casting a spell. In his mind he could extend the magical cover to the entire ceiling of the room. And, much as he had been taught he chanted and visualised the space above the roof. A thin protective field diverting rain into the street below and not onto his floor, nor into his nearly full bucket.

As he spoke the last word he heard a loud crash as smoke wreathed him for just a moment. Next a cold wind surrounded him.

His eyes adjusted to the light.

Above him?

The barrier had worked.

Above him the rain splattered down onto an invisible forcefield.

He looked down.

It was a dark and stormy night; Amon was curled up in a mostly empty moving box.

And the great wizard Mildew was stuck on his roof.

---

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial for this wonderful prompt. I had wanted to go a decidedly gruesome way originally but couldn't get this out of my head.

[starynightcreator]

It’s Not All Bad

Chapters: 1-8

Characters included: Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harington

Word Count:4,861

No use of Y/N

18+! May be triggering to some!

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Kissing, Shy/Anxious Reader, Sweet/Protective Eddie, Jealousy, Cursing, Alcohol use, Yelling, Heartbreak, Betrayal, & Friends To Lovers.

Summary: After a betrayal from your best friend and boyfriend, you find comfort in the arms of eddie.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. This is my first story and I'm a little nervous.

!Must give credit when re-sharing/sharing. Don’t take credit please and thank you!

This last month has been so strange. Your almost-year-long boyfriend, Steve, and long time best friend, Nancy had been acting so differently towards you. You thought you had done something wrong. It started to get to you, and of course Eddie picked up on your sad attitude today as you barely acknowledged him in any way. That wasn’t like you. You always smiled, laughed, talked, and etc with him even when you looked/felt like death. It was confirmed when you didn’t answer him by his little nickname he gave you and always called you (Star. But he has yet to say why he chose it). “STAR!” You can hear it but it’s almost like it didn’t feel real. You were just too sad to fully process your surroundings or care that you honestly didn’t even know how you got to school or if you’d stay for the full day. “STAR!” You hear it again but this time closer but again you don’t do anything but just sit there and stare at your shoes (black boots with white tie dye laces). Next thing you know you feel hands on your shoulders but they don’t scare you as you know it’s Eddie due to his cold rings. “Star..” You hear more softly now but this time you are actually listening. But instead of speaking you just lean back and look up. It’s very clear you had been crying and that you were sad. Eddie thought "Where the hell was Steve and why were you sad…”"Star, do you wanna talk about what's wrong?” You looked back down. “We don-”“We can but could you sit down you giant. I’ma need a neck brace if I gotta keep looking up.”“You are so dramatic but sure I guess I could sit.”“So what’s going on?”“Steve and Nancy have been acting so differently towards me all month and I guess all my feelings about it just came out today…I mean like what did I do wrong? Do they hate me or something?” Just as Eddie was going to speak they both walked up. *Steve Rudely Addresses Eddie “Eddie I see you didn’t hesitate to sit next to MY Girlfriend while I wasn’t here.”“Babe Eddie and I are friends and he, unlike you, could see I was upset.” “You’re upset?” *Nancy gives Steve a dirty look “I think a toddler could tell she was sad Steve are you that blind?” There was silence for a moment before you threw your hands in the air with anger “Ugh I can’t do this today.”(You then storm out pushing past Steve). As you storm out Eddie just looks at Steve and Nancy with such anger. He may not be the brightest but he sure isn't stupid either. He can see what is going on and nothing angers him more than someone hurting his Star. *Eddie then speaks to them angrily “Some boyfriend you are and you're supposed to be her best friend. You think you two are slick. I know what’s going on and you two are awful!” Eddie wanted to say more, do more. But helping you right now was more important. “ Star, wait up!” As Eddie runs to catch up Steve yells out to Eddie. “STOP CALLING HER THAT!!!” (Steve tried calling you Star once before and you put a stop to that so quickly. Even you were shocked at your defense. But hey he never tried to say it again. But he constantly tries to get Eddie to stop. Basically following the whole if I can’t you can’t crud). “We should say something Steve…” “Yeah Nancy like what? Hey babe me and Nancy have been seeing each other behind your back for the past month.”“Well wouldn’t it be better for us to tell her. Then someone else or her to walk in seeing us kiss.”“ It will be fine Nancy now, let's go.” Eddie couldn't find you anywhere in the school. He even checked all your little secret places you liked to go to get away during free periods or lunch. But nothing, you were…gone. so as a last ditch effort he thought outside of the box and went to his van where he then heard music quietly playing. You didn’t wanna deal with anyone. Eddie though was the only exception. So you remembered he told you the one door on the van was always unlocked, “but only for Star” his words of course. Next thing you knew you heard a knock that scared the daylights out of you and of course you didn’t wanna answer but before you made a full decision you heard. “Star it’s me, may I come in?”

[breakfastteatime]

Today's minific is for @mistressorinoco who requested 'Chores are Everyone's Business'

Greez arrives at the engine room door with a bucket and a mop. “I don’t care if you lived in a hovel full of rust, mold and damp on Bracca – you live on my ship now, so you live by my rules, and Benduday is chores day.” He looks around the deck, no doubt noting the new scuff marks and boot imprints. “Yeah, you can start off in here. Then I want the hallway, the galley, and the lounge squeaky clean.”

Cal stares at him from the workbench where he’d been double-checking his repair job on BD’s leg. “I did live in a hovel full of rust, mold and damp. I still kept it clean.”

“Great! No excuses then!” Greez leaves the mop and the bucket by the door. “Oh, and don’t you go getting any ideas about using your space wizard powers to clean. I don’t want you blowing anything up back here.”

BD says exactly what he thinks about that. He also tells Greez about Cal’s plans to take a nap, but he is not understood in the slightest. Greez jabs a pair of fingers at him. “I can still flush you down the refresher, droid!”

Cal gets between the pair very, very quickly. “It’s fine,” he says, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll clean up.”

“Alright, good.”

Greez heads out. Cal offers BD a shrug, finishes his checks, and then gets to work mopping. It’s strangely soothing, watching the dirt wash away. There some distant lesson in his mind about moving meditations. Master Tapal could turn anything into a lesson when he wanted to… which was always. When Cal reaches the galley, he finds Cere unpacking the dishwasher. She stares at him, chuckling at his bemusement.

“Chores are everyone’s business,” she explains, placing a stack of plates in a cupboard.

Cal looks beyond her, but Greez is nowhere to be seen. BD is not impressed.

“He’s in the refresher,” Cere explains. “Greez is very particular about it, and I suggest you don’t question it.”

“He doesn’t let you clean it?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Cal continues swabbing. “Is it a Greez thing or a Lateron thing?”

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.” Cere finishes in the galley and pulls a duster out of the storage locker. “I’m going to clean off the holotable and the cockpit readouts.”

“You’re allowed to clean the cockpit?”

“Oh, only the screens.”

Cal scrubs at a particularly stubborn splash of juice under the galley table he knows he left there during breakfast. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Do not, under any circumstances, move Greez’s cleaning supplies, and whatever you do, don’t sit on the couch immediately after he’s cleaned off the potolli weave. You’ll never get the stain remover off your clothes.”

Cal looks at his well-worn uniform. “Would you even notice?”

“Definitely,” Cere says. “It dyes every fabric it touches a bright white. Think about the parts of your body that would touch the cushions.”

“Oh.” Cal can feel his skin flushing.

BD giggles.

Cal continues scrubbing the deck. “Cleaning was never this complicated on Bracca.”

[zydratearchives]

Hi! Here to beg you for a Chromaggia costume piece list or reproduction advice TwT

Of course!! The costume itself was handmade but I'll do my best to help break it all down for you!

Blind Mag 'Chromaggia' Costume Breakdown (+ Alternatives)

Headpiece

Mag's headpiece is actually a spiked + studded choker (most likely the same as she wears around her neck) that had the ends cut off and holes punched in the end, where elastic was strung through to attach hairpins.

But really, you can just use a silver-spiked headband if you don't care for screen accuracy.

Choker

Again, a silver-spike and studded choker. Not sure of the original of this, but it's not hard to find similar ones. It's even easier to find a simple studded choker - don't worry, noone will notice! ;)

Costume

The feathers were purchased from John Bead, specifically 8"-10" naturally bronze feathers with a red dye. However, these don't seem to be on the website anymore, and I think you need a wholesale account to use it.

You can get similar ones by looking for red and black coque feathers, there's plenty of other places that sell them (real and faux).

Again, not sure of the exact make, but her corset is a simple black leather waist trainer. Quite easy to find similar ones!

I'd recommend attaching the feathers to a strapless black bodysuit and wearing the corset over top.

Attached at the back, she has a black mesh train which can be easily sewn in along with the feathers.

If you're more into buying the costume pre-made, ACGcosplay has a fantastic one!

She also wears black tights with this costume, look to be about 50-60 denier to me.

Boots

The boots are a pair of Alexander McQueens that belonged to Sarah Brightman. The exact pair is unknown, but they're matte black leather thigh-high boots with a spiked heel.

Similar ones can easily be found and the spike added if you'd like that extra bit of accuracy.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more help with this one on specific pieces (hence why this is just a 'costume breakdown' rather than a 'masterlist'), but I hope I could at least help make the process a little easier. I added photos of example pieces so you can Google reverse image search if necessary to try and find what you're looking for.

Good luck with your Blind Mag cosplay! If you're comfortable, feel free to submit it when you're done so I can share it!!

[strrymko]

Jack Horner headcanons I can’t get out of my head

Honestly I have been obsessed with Jack’s character since I saw Puss in Boots: The Last Wish for the second time. I really want to know more about his upbringing / experiences he had before becoming the head of his pie company. 

Also, I know that Jack relies heavily on his bakers/hireons to do most of the grunt work for him but in several instances he has shown brute strength, precision, flexibility, and wit to get what he wants without them. These are just a few ideas I have had in my head based on his abilities shown throughout the movie.

- Growing up, I assume Jack had lessons in archery / javelin throwing based on his skills with the crossbow and how he threw a spear at Puss and Kitty during the factory escape scene. The dude took time to focus on where he was going to hit before throwing. I really admired the attention to detail the animators / artists had when it came to Jack’s strength and skill.

- I think because Jack was so humiliated by fairytale characters for being a nursery rhyme, he asked his parents to put him in certain sports / self defense classes as back up to stay on top. If he’s denouncing “Little Jack” then he needs to keep up with the appearance of Big Jack. (He may be round in the middle but look at the size of his hands and broad shoulders? He definitely works on his muscles. haha)

- I know some people theorize Jack used magic to make himself appear taller, but I really think puberty hit him hard when he hit his teens, possibly even earlier than usual. It isn’t confirmed the two people standing next to Jack in his flashback are his parents, but I assume Jack is around 8 - 12 here and he appears taller than average for kids his age. 

- Going back to Jack’s upper body strength, I think it’s interesting how the designers for Jack kept his lower body disproportionate to his upper body. His thighs are still thick but below that his legs are rather skinny. I have this head canon that Jack regularly lifts heavy boxes / equipment in the factory because he’s aware his men are nowhere near as strong as him. (Explains the thick thighs and muscular arms.. hehe)

- It has been awhile since I have seen some of the Shrek movies, but I don’t remember any characters who had vibrant colored hair that wasn’t natural. I think Jack is a natural blonde but he dyes his hair lilac to keep up with the pie theme for his business. I also believe he requires his bakers to have some purple theme in their attire aside from their uniforms. Some had purple face paint and one baker even had their hair dyed purple. (And looking back, even one of the unicorns was purple?? I can’t believe I just noticed that! lol) 

- Another headcanon that is common within the Jack Horner community is Jack’s self awareness and the belief that he’s confident despite not being society’s definition of attractive. I really like this one because the only time we really see Jack’s insecurity is when one of the serpent sisters mock his nursery rhyme, back when he was little and dorky. He is referred to as “Big Jack Horner” and keeps up that appearance by killing the people who mock him. (Hence tricking the serpent sister in grabbing the Midas Touch.)

- I found it interesting that Jack didn’t just kill the Ethical Bug after finding out he was useless to him. This makes me believe Jack just kept him around to essentially fuck with him and make him think he could be changed. The smirk Jack made when Ethical Bug recited the symbolism of the phoenix before Jack used her to burn down all the flowers in his way / The next scene where Jack catches Perrito and threatens to shoot him with a unicorn horn w/o remorse / and finally when Jack dramatically expresses his life woes (being a privileged kid with loving parents, stability, and significant inheritance growing up) and then finally getting fed up hearing ethical bug try and change his heart after he let the remainder of his men fall to their deaths. I found this aspect of Jack hilarious only because he drug out the act for so long just to prove a point. 

- Last hc I’ll add on this post for now; I know a lot of people wanted to see what the map path would look like if Jack had his hands on it before reaching the wishing star. (me included) I think this was purposefully avoided because of how fucked up Jack is, and the path to the star would be even more difficult than Puss or Kitty’s paths. The star is clearly a sentient being and knows who has pure intentions, so if Jack obtained the map early on in the dark forest I think he would have figured out who to place the map with and just follow them to the star for the easiest route possible.

(also, this is more of a Goldi hc; but I think the star felt Goldi’s pain and only messed up the path to try and make her realize she had a perfect family all along. This scene made me realize why Jack probably wasn’t meant to hold the map at all within the forest because.. well he’s the most morally fucked up out of the three groups. haha)

I have a lot more hcs for Jack but I think this is enough for now. If y’all have any hcs you should add to this post or link them to me! I really love seeing everyone analyze Jack in their own ways. He’s such a cool character and I’m keeping my fingers crossed he appears in future Puss in Boots features.. hehe

I’m not the best writer so I hope all of this made sense! tysm for reading this far :)

[acourtofthought]

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"if they're blessed" ⬆️⬇️

"they'll find their mate"

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"their equal, their match in every way"

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.

“The new Amren is even crankier than the old one,” Elain said softly.

And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

But I tried to smile, if only for Elain, who flitted about the room, personally greeting each guest and dancing with all their important sons.

He assured me that he hated the gatherings as much as I did, and that Lucien was the only one who really enjoyed himself.

Elain cut her a look. “This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.”

Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.

Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. Elain … She’d taken one look at us in the swaying grasses outside that wagon, the legs and assets on display, and turned crimson. Viviane stepped in, offering a Winter Court fashion that was far less scandalous: leather pants, but paired with a thigh-length blue surcoat, white fur trimming the collar. In the heat, it’d be miserable, but Elain was thankful enough that she didn’t complain

But Tamlin’s attention had gone to the clothes Lucien now wore. The Illyrian leathers. He might as well have been wearing Night Court black. It was an effort to keep my mouth shut, to not explain that Lucien didn’t have any other clothes with him, and that they weren’t a sign of his allegiance—

“I asked Nuala to do it in that order,” Elain said as the others gathered round. “Because you’re the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.”

“You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”

Before I could turn back, Elain threw her arms around me. I did not remember when I began to cry as I felt those slender arms hold me, tight as steel.

He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back, and I calmed my weeping,

My sisters were shrieking over their gags. But Elain’s cry—a warning. A warning to—

Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”

From SJM herself: "That reminds me! Lucien and Elain would go to London and tour through the gardens before making their way to the countryside. They are pretty much happy to be out in nature the most."

Lucien eventually stopped at a jade stream wending through a granite-flanked gully, a spot he claimed had once been rich with trout. I was in the process of constructing a rudimentary fishing pole when he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. He’d tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where I’d been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine.

Nesta hid the devastation well. The frustration. “What can I get you, Elain?” Only with Elain did she use that voice. But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.”

Lucin snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

The sun personified.