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some nights #348

bubaliba — Sat, 18 May 2013 17:09:32 GMT

some nights #348 by bubaliba on Polyvore.com

Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck Some nights, I call it a draw Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know anymore...

In case it cools off........

style-stories — Fri, 17 May 2013 14:30:14 GMT

In case it cools off........ by style-stories on Polyvore.com

Have some ice-cream & cool out,,,, :))

style-stories — Fri, 17 May 2013 14:29:25 GMT

Have some ice-cream & cool out,,,, :)) by style-stories on Polyvore.com

Cut it out, you look way too good.. :D

style-stories — Fri, 17 May 2013 14:28:36 GMT

Cut it out, you look way too good.. :D by style-stories on Polyvore.com

I want to focus on my salad

noceurs — Fri, 17 May 2013 05:14:39 GMT

I want to focus on my salad by noceurs on Polyvore.com

My thing about Martha Stewart has escalated from mere adoration to obsession. ... All I want for my birthday next week is her book Martha's Entertaining: A Year of Celebrations and some new mixing bowls. What is wrong with me WHY CAN'T I LIVE IN HER PERFECTLY ORGANIZED AND GODDAMN DELICIOUS WORLD??????

'Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Vodou are not the same thing, you uneducated ass.'

noceurs — Thu, 16 May 2013 07:42:47 GMT

'Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Vodou are not the same thing, you uneducated ass.' by noceurs on Polyvore.com

I can't tell if this is actually a good set and I like it or if I'm still trpping ballz on the Quebecois cough syrup I took earlier? (It's also three in the morning that's problematic too) Guess who got diagnosed with late season flu? Yeah. This girl. Right here. I am going to die I swear to god I can't be living right now I must be a zombie. Side anecdote about Adrianne Ho (omg if I have to sensor her last name I will kill someone) (no I don't thank jesus): I met her in Vancouver a few months ago, I saw her on the street and thought she was gorgeous, and I kind of casually walked up and told her that she was pretty because you can do that in Vancouver and not Montreal and she laughed and said yeah I'm a model and I asked her her name and she told me and then said she loved my piercings and then I went home and googled her and floated on clouds forever the end. Don't care whether or not she's a 'real' model right now, to be quite honest. Sirene La Croix ☪ TATTOO ARTIST ☪ (20) Birthday - 4th July - Cancer Hometown; New Orleans, Louisiana Insert Bio Here (Adrianne Ho) TAKEN BY; @noceurs IN CHARACTER ▪ How long have you been tattooing (or piercing)? What's your experience? ▪ How is your relationship with the Stark sisters? ▪ What do you expect to get out of working in CAT? ▪ Where do you see yourself in five years? OUT OF CHARACTER ▪ Why do you think you should get the part? ▪ How active will you be? ▪ How inspired are you for this role? This is coming, I promise. And her name makes much more sense later on I know it's kind of special snowflake-y right now but yeah it has meaning I promise

It's all a trap for you.

the-clary-project — Wed, 15 May 2013 16:13:09 GMT

It's all a trap for you. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Honestly, I haven't been in any groups lately, but I really like Aleka. So consider this a possible audition. I honestly don't like this set that much, but oh well - I'm out of practice. ♒ ALEKA age; 18 god/goddess parent; Zeus likes; archery, metallics, ear cuffs bio; It's dangerous business being a child of Zeus, and no one knows this better than Aleka. She was raised on an island not unlike Aeaea. Zeus hid her and her mother there for nearly eight years to protect them from his wrathful wife, all the while providing them with all they needed to live comfortably. Then, without any warning, Aleka's mother disappeared one day. Gone like vapour with no sign of a struggle. Zeus had the god Hermes deliver his daughter to Circe's island where she could live, and hopefully, be safe. For nine years, Aleka begged the gods through prayer to know what happened to her poor mother. Only recently have any of them seen fit to answer. Athena appeared to her in a vision last summer, telling her that Hera has her mother locked away somewhere in the Underworld. Over and over, Aleka has begged Circe for a quest to go rescue her mother. And over and over, Circe has said no. But this summer, Aleka is going to the Underworld to get her mother back, with or without Circe's approval. model; Laura Schuller taken by;

At sunset...........

style-stories — Wed, 15 May 2013 02:46:59 GMT

At sunset........... by style-stories on Polyvore.com

#Hashtags

noceurs — Tue, 14 May 2013 17:06:17 GMT

#Hashtags by noceurs on Polyvore.com

#no #thisisnotokay #areyoukiddingme actually though I do see some benefits to hashtags like I can tag my stories for my reference #aislinth coming soon/when existing doesn't hurt so much (still sicker than someone pretty sick, going to the doctor later)

I'm actually probably dead right now so you might not want a hug after all.

noceurs — Mon, 13 May 2013 23:51:28 GMT

I'm actually probably dead right now so you might not want a hug after all. by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Another remake of an old set. I woke up this morning ridiculously ill and I've basically stayed that way. I have zero energy (this was in my drafts) and my stomach refuses to hold down anything and I'm five thousand percent sure some freakin' dwarfs have started a diamond mining operation in my head. Just kill me I don't want to be sick right now. Postscript: You have no idea how excited I am for this movie http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzJNYYkkhzc

got good grades, ain't got no soul

stars-and-moon — Sun, 12 May 2013 23:33:17 GMT

got good grades, ain't got no soul by stars-and-moon on Polyvore.com

HEY GUYS!!!!!! I haven't been on in soooo long... But I am pretty sure I'm leaving polyvore, i *might* (and that is a huuuuuuuge might) come back for the summer, but I know if i get into Pre-IB I'm going to want to cut polyvore out of my life completely, it's just too much of a distraction :( So, in conclusion, this is kind of my goodbye.

New York Summer

style-stories — Sun, 12 May 2013 15:27:17 GMT

New York Summer by style-stories on Polyvore.com

Living in the garden of evil.

the-clary-project — Thu, 09 May 2013 16:31:32 GMT

Living in the garden of evil. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

I don't think this set makes too much sense, but I like it. I'm trying to inspire myself in new and interesting ways. Contact :: contacttheclaryproject@gmail.com

Things get crazy when I stop obsessively colour scheming

noceurs — Wed, 08 May 2013 22:08:45 GMT

Things get crazy when I stop obsessively colour scheming by noceurs on Polyvore.com

deerest @lixi-bunny plz come out of hiding luv, yer pal summer

Risin' up, back on the streets.

the-clary-project — Wed, 08 May 2013 19:14:22 GMT

Risin' up, back on the streets. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Ha - ha - ha - what. I love Cass. HMU ON TUMBLR IS THAT DOUCHEY ENOUGH www.breathe--in.tumblr.com

Elvis Presley was a model citizen!

noceurs — Wed, 08 May 2013 05:20:07 GMT

Elvis Presley was a model citizen! by noceurs on Polyvore.com

If you haven't joined this roleplay yet, you really should: http://www.polyvore.com/camp_circe_cc/group.show?id=160898 There will be hijinks and surfing and goddesses and Polyvore's best roleplayers. What are you waiting for? Anyway, I started a playlist in the spirit of summer and reggae and beach parties and then I listened to @vampirkaninchen's in kind of tribute to Camp Circe and then I kind of got the idea that like Lilo and Stitch Circe has a thing for Elvis P. And then that became Chuck Berry and Jimmy Buffett and then of course the Beach Boys so if you feel moved by such a summery combination, I'd love you to listen But like don't feel forced or anything I am slowly, like, degenerating into like, you know, a valley girl http://8tracks.com/belledujour/invincible-summer

This set is hideous, but I doubt you're here for the set, ya know?

the-clary-project — Wed, 08 May 2013 02:05:17 GMT

This set is hideous, but I doubt you're here for the set, ya know? by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

http://figment.com/books/635084-Boston WHAT. WHAT. WHAT? This is not a drill. Let me know if you read. @deercat, @sophiaspastic, @modadea, @volonte, @laceandlanvin, @noceurs, @teenidle, @anahelenaliveshere, @casie, @rockets-and-rainbows, @emilie-ethereal, @istylista, @keziahh, @na0mi, @elizabeth-kate, @withacherryontop, @luxecouture, @henna-enjoys-the-little-things, @can-you-see-me Basically just tagging everyone who used to read this once upon a whatever. @withacherryontop I'm tagging you twice because HI.

Senza titolo #347

bubaliba — Tue, 07 May 2013 18:13:36 GMT

Senza titolo #347 by bubaliba on Polyvore.com

All your love is never good enough.

the-clary-project — Tue, 07 May 2013 15:25:41 GMT

All your love is never good enough. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Nothing suspicious going on here. Certainly nothing to do with my summer writing project. Or with the New, Improved Nickamoto Plot that takes place when they first meet. Nope. Not a thing to do with that.

Untitled #69

xocandy-802 — Mon, 06 May 2013 17:18:57 GMT

Untitled #69 by xocandy-802 on Polyvore.com

Sometimes the unfairness of it all really sucks, you know?

noceurs — Sun, 05 May 2013 22:47:18 GMT

Sometimes the unfairness of it all really sucks, you know? by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Just a quick set to quickly express an opinion -- As always, thank you for your recognition of my work and giving me a top set, @polyvore & @polyvore-editorial. It is always, always an honour. But being given three top sets out of my thirty-two sets, 9%, in the space of a month has made me realize something. I do not deserve these sets, Polyvore staff. I really don't. I don't use Poly for that reason, I use it to write and be with my friends and put pictures and outfits together in fun ways. I don't care about the likes. I would be lying if I said I never did, or that it's not an amazing feeling being one of the few people to break a thousand likes on one set, but now I just can't care about them. I know how important they can be and I absolutely don't judge people who care about them. It's important to be recognized for your hard work. And frankly I think there are people you never ever recognize and you NEED to, @polyvore & @polyvore-editorial. This account? It began to be used a month ago. @sophiaspastic, aside from being an amazing person I can always count on, has had her account more than four years, with sets that totally blow my mind. And she's never had a top set. Every time I get one I think it's one she deserves. I don't want top sets when there are people you completely overlook. It makes this site feel like a popularity contest, which it is, which real life is, and shouldn't a place like this be an escape? I'm not very good with words so I hope you understand, Poly staff. Please give people who truly deserve it, like @sophiaspastic, top sets instead of the same people over and over again, like me. If you read it, thank you. And thank you for making this site that I love too much to part from.

No compromises. Zero compromise.

noceurs — Sat, 04 May 2013 05:18:07 GMT

No compromises. Zero compromise. by noceurs on Polyvore.com

--Nicolas Ghesquière in 2007 I was literally going to make this set to talk about what a great week I have and then someone sent me this: http://dft.ba/-nicolasghes And now I've been sobbing to the point that my roommate is going to make me a banana split. So I'm going to talk about this instead, hold tight. As a lot of you know, I am a huge huge fan of Nicolas Ghesquière. I consider him to be my favourite designer, even more so than Miuccia Prada (although she is very, very close to him and never ever not genius). Naturally, when he departed Balenciaga last November I was gutted so goddamn hard. Ask me two, three years ago if I would spend days crying over someone I'd never met, and a fashion designer no less, I would look at you like you were crazy. But that's exactly what I did. I'm convinced Nicolas is the reincarnation of Cristobal. While Wang's show in February was passable, good even, it was so painful to watch. See, I've only cried like this over a designer one other time, when Lee McQueen committed suicide. That was obviously upsetting. But the part that makes Nicolas worse to me is that he's alive, still. His genius still exists, but it's not being used. And then reading an interview like that, knowing he could have been saved? It's just so upsetting to me. And I know how strange it is and how invested I am and that the majority of people don't even care, but god it just hurts. I love you Nicolas, come back to my runways soon ♡♡♡

"Ohmygawd are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "ROAD TRIP, BITCHEZ!!!!!!!!!!"

noceurs — Fri, 03 May 2013 17:55:34 GMT

"Ohmygawd are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "ROAD TRIP, BITCHEZ!!!!!!!!!!" by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Definitely want Tanner, I've decided. So. Montreal y u so cold? I want summer. Now. (and remind me to tell you about why I suddenly love my father). ☼ TANNER age; 17 god/goddess parent; Hermes likes; cowrie shell jewelry, Super Soakers/squirt guns in general, jellyfish bio; Tanner's a puckish girl who's never without her trusty slingshot. In honour of her father, she has a tattoo of his symbol - the caduceus - along her right upper arm. And just like her father, she happens to own a pair of winged sandals. They're mostly just a neat fashion statement, but every now and then they come in handy {like when it comes time to take on the obstacle course}. If there's mischief to be gotten into, Tanner will most likely be found in the centre of it. She's twice been in trouble with K for wrapping the staff cabin in toilet paper {wet toilet paper, no less, so that it would better stick to the walls}. It's all in good fun, she swears, but often Tanner has difficulty distinguishing between fun and just plain mean. While other girls try to get their parents' attentions with swords or tridents, Tanner tries to get hers by causing trouble. And it may actually be working. model; Tallulah Morton taken by; collection. (http://www.polyvore.com/surfs_up_brah_lets_catch/collection?id=2516388) top three (excluding tanner). χ. hero ψ. cruz ω. tyrien story. So this is way longer than I meant it to be, and way too serious, probably the most serious story I’ll ever write for Tanner, and also VERY, VERY, VERY NON-CANONICAL. Completely non canonical. Basically it’s just what came to me when I sat down to write. No sense is made. --- “Hey, Banana, I can hear your headphones, turn them down!” One of the bunk beds screeches, some random demi goddess, no one I care to know, a transplant to Cabine Cinq. She sure caught onto my pseudo nickname fast. I turn them up louder, hearing damage levels. “Oh my god someone hurt her I can’t reach!” The wood slats of my bed rattle slightly, then Nirvelli leans over from the top bunk, tapping me on the forehead with one of her long fingers. “Come on Tan, that’s not very nice. Some of us need sleep, you know.” I roll my eyes, and throw a quick glance back at the other beds, putting a finger to my lips and yanking off my headphones. The music that was thumping in my ears stops. “It’s great she was so distracted by that she didn’t notice the lizards congregating on the the ceiling over her bed.” I stage whisper. There’s a thump, and a shriek. I smirk. Nirvelli looks at me for a second then goes back to staying above me, like an Olympian, a comparison that probably hasn’t escaped her, the wood shifting again with her movement. And with my bedtime amusement completed, I close my eyes, ready to give into Morpheus and whatever darkness lies beyond my lids. I haven’t dreamed since I came here for the summer, and I’m not sure that’s something bad. Usually, I dream of monsters, unslayable things that everyone wants me to take down and protect camp from, and I can’t. And that’s weakness. Who even needs weakness? No one. No one needs or wants weakness. Especially not the most badarse demi-goddess to hit this camp’s shores in ages. But I do dream tonight, breaking my two week record. Vivid, bloody shapes drift into my consciousness, and I thrash wildly in the chains they put me in, opening my mouth to denounce them only to be swallowed up. I wake up wild eyed surrounded by darkness, my hair matted from swirling over my pillow. My sheets are soaked in sweat, and I lay still for a moment, my pulse accelerated, tremors moving through my shoulders faster than I can stop. What would Atalanta do? I call upon my favourite super cool sweetass hunter chick like I usually do in tricky situations. I’m not sure how or way Attie got into my head, but she’s there for good, telling me what to do about everything from that hottie in my chem class and which prank to go with when I have two perfect choices. Attie would leave. She would get up, and go down to the beach, and kick around some sand, punch a palm tree or two. And so that’s what I do, willing Morpheus to appear so I could take aim, or at least my dad so I can have real guidance. But freakin’ Hades, it’s cold. I’d forgotten. That’s why the pyres burn at late dinners. I’m an idiot. People say it, but I’ve never realized it before now. The lizards on the ceiling, attracted by peanut butter and a few flies stuck in the mess, were stupid. That wasn’t something even remotely clever. I shouldn’t be surprised no god wants me, not my dad, not Poseidon that one time I asked him for an amaze wave, not Lady Hera or Lord Zeus or Morpheus or Hades. No one. I dig a toe deeper in the sand and tilt my face back to look at the stars. They’re really beautiful on this island, not the sort of thing I notice back home, but here, swirls of galaxy blend into bands of diamonds easily, the universe shifting around me. Beneath my back, the sand shifts too, and I close my eyes, draping my arm across my face. “Go away Keto, I’m having a bad night. You can punish me in the morning.” The ground keeps moving. “I mean it, just leave me alone.” The floaty feeling that surges through my veins when I’m angry is in my toes now, bubbling its way up my legs, tingling, leaving me aching to attack. I don’t have a weapon, nor do I want to attack someone who could kill me very easily and explain it away in seconds. “Tanner.” The voice isn’t one I recognize, except from one of the many in my dreams. It’s deeper than Nick’s, or any of my brothers, fuller, almost musical, with a slight accent, one like Circe’s. I open my eyes and slowly bring myself to stand, my back still to the voice. “You’ve been causing trouble here, no?” I can hear the mischievous twinkle in his voice before he even says the next words. “That’s my girl.” I can’t breathe, or speak, or function. There is a god, my father, standing directly behind me. My father. The person whose blood runs in my magical veins, my wild impulses, my best ideas. Hermes. My father. I stand stock-still, with the most perfect posture of my life, trying not to flinch when he touches my shoulder. And suddenly I can speak again, but I feel the courage he injected into me bubbling under my skin. I turn quickly, hugging him without even thinking, something that reminds me that I’m half human. “Oh my gods.” He places a hand on my tangled hair tentatively, as if unsure how to deal with his mostly grown daughter squeezing him, hard. “I’m sorry I’ve never come before, Tangerine.” When I look up, I see the glint in his eyes again. Tangerine. The forbidden name. Not even my mortal family can call me that, not even the one lover I’ve had in my seventeen years of existence. I do what any daughter of his should, and pull back, slapping him on the cheek. He reacts, but it’s for my sake. “I do deserve that, probably.” “Why in the name of Tartarus are you even here?” He smiles again, my own grin, but I can see the sadness reflected in it now. “I come when my children need me.” Seven short words. “I come when they’re desperate, when they’ve lost sight of reality, beauty, the reasons to stay alive.” I finish for him. It was written in my favourite mythology book, the words of Hermes to the monster he was fighting for his sons. “I don’t need you, Dad, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. I’ve survived this long without you.” He looks at me one more time, almost Nick-like, almost concerned. His next words are ominous. “But you will.” --- I wake up in my bed, the sunlight pouring through the windows, the cabin empty. Outside there’s reggae music, the clashing of swords. Everyone’s awake. I’m alone. The nurse-naiad next to my bed looks up at me when I turn to get up. “I wouldn’t try. You have a terrible bump on the back of your head.” But I see past her musical voice and sweet words. I’m bound to my bed with leather straps. I don’t... I don’t understand. I’m scared, for the first time in my life. It’s a new emotion. Disgusting. The door creaks open and a blonde head pokes in. Nirvelli. The naiad stands, relinquishing her seat to the girl even the sirens are bewitched by. “Why, Tanner?” Her voice almost cracks, and it’s not strong like I’m used to. Mine is equally weak when I respond, my head hurting with the effort. “Why what?” She’s in tears, bowing her head, shaking it, a long time passing before she breathes, speaks again. “Why... Why did you burn down the staff cabin? With... with people inside? What have you done?”

Keeps me up all night.

the-clary-project — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:44:13 GMT

Keeps me up all night. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Aye aye aye aye so today hasn't been a very good day, but whatever; it's fine. Anyways, finished Chaptah One, so if anyone actually wants to read it, let me know and I'll post it. There's like a super- short excerpt to be found here: http://figment.com/books/632085-Uh-uh Yes, there's a butter knife in this set. Get over it.

ayeayeyaeee

the-clary-project — Thu, 02 May 2013 19:02:43 GMT

ayeayeyaeee by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

i actually suck at everything omfg http://figment.com/books/632085-Uh-uh

READ: Let's get down to business.

the-clary-project — Thu, 02 May 2013 18:31:10 GMT

READ: Let's get down to business. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Aye aye aye I wrote and then I picked a random selection from that to put on Figment. SUP. http://figment.com/books/632085-Uh-uh

Live fast, die young.

the-clary-project — Thu, 02 May 2013 05:30:48 GMT

Live fast, die young. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

I had the idea for her much the same way that I had the idea for Nick (and Kevin, etc), so expect a collection coming soon. And other stuff. Maybe a fleshed-out background collection. And, of course, the writing. But for now, I'll just leave you to wonder what the hell's goin' on while I plot and laugh evilly.

"I'm arrogant, but not so much that I'd irresponsibly save someone just to brag about it."

noceurs — Wed, 01 May 2013 01:06:59 GMT

"I'm arrogant, but not so much that I'd irresponsibly save someone just to brag about it." by noceurs on Polyvore.com

I forget how good that anime is. And god I found my old Mel Beeby books and they are just legit awesome, like poorly written but super fun? I don't even know. You have no idea how much I've wanted to use Sasha Grey for roleplay purposes. She's like, my self confidence/intelligence goals. This set is a remake of the first set I ever made for Co, her first audition, here: http://www.polyvore.com/everybody_loves_me_intend_to/set?id=48972974&lid=1568313 ♕ + name; Cordelia Rose Chesterton-Kingsley + nickname; Coco or Co for her closest confidants, Delia for everyone else + age; 18 as of 21 May + college; Columbia University + major; Political Science (but lately pre-Law looks more and more attractive...) + likes; Diamonds, afternoon tea, Victorian etiquette, power, pastels, calorie counting, easily manipulated boys, skin care, Chanel, Comme des Garçons, Vivienne Westwood, secrets, very good liars, smoke, fire, graveyards, cathedrals, rosaries, being clean, cocaine, mysteries, marsupials, & Paris. + dislikes; Her family, politics, politicians, fat, cellulite, journalists, policemen, infringed constitutional rights, guns, unpronounceable foreign words, mirrors, idiots and bigots, bad hair days, weakness, religion, cocaine dealers, cocaine prices, murder, rehab, & chocolate milk (seriously who the hell invented that chalky sh*t?). + personality; In contrast to her personality before Paris, Co is now not even pretend vulnerable, but instead even more icy and closed off to all but a select few people, usually choosing solitude as to keep her Monster in check. She’s four months sober and it’s slowly killing her but if she’s anything, it’s determined, and she wants to put her messy Coldgrove years behind her. (reference previous personality in the first audition linked in the beginning) + appearance; + style; + family; (reference full length bios in the first audition linked in the beginning) Senator Nathan Kingsley (Gerard Butler) Co’s father appears to be a perfect American, with a beautiful wife and lovely children. His daughter is following in his footsteps and studying politics like he did, and he couldn’t be more proud. Of course, there is the small matter of her contempt for him. Why? Maybe the man is perfect, and has no secrets, or maybe he's just adept at hiding them. Co’s return from death has only magnified the elusive air in the Chesterfield-Kingsley household. Lady Elizabeth Chesterton-Grey (Doutzen Kroes) In Cordelia’s last year of school, she sought to destroy her backstabbing, conniving mother, who was even more of a politician than her father, getting pregnant to ensure his win. Co did exactly that. Her mother’s addiction was nearly as bad as her own and her staged death pushed Lady Elizabeth over the edge. Now a zombie, she follows her husband blindly, forgetting her name and twin daughters and slowly losing her mind. Avaline Marie Chesterton-Kingsley (Suri Cruise) Now four and exceedingly popular at her preschool, Ava was horrified by her sister’s death in the way a three year old can be: She moved on. CocoBear’s sudden reappearance isn’t something she’s exactly ready to forgive, not with her growing understanding, her mother’s accidental abandonments, and her twin’s attempts to be the best. Aurelia Madison Chesterton-Kingsley (Suri Cruise) Like Ava, Maddy is coming to understand the world way too quickly. See, the former trouble making twin has been discovered to be a prodigy. Math, piano, you name it, she’s good at it. It’s alienating her favourite playmate and she can barely focus on CocoBear’s return or Mommy’s comings and goings. + past/current relationships; Chantal Lisbon (@sophiaspastic) Undoubtedly Co’s best friend and current roommate, the two stayed together in Paris, shared victories and grievances, and they’re nearly inseparable. Adriana Cannelita-Traviata (Sasha Grey) Tally and Co’s roommate, a first year Columbia Law student, is undeniably whip smart and able to take any male (or female) ego down several notches. But she’s also insane. Aside from a seemingly endless stream of boys and girls coming from her room, the Miami babe dabbles in voodoo and Santeria, leaving her charms and evidence of her rituals everywhere. She likes to party, and Co fears she’ll be the one to put a stop to her sobriety, but for now the two best friends have to endure Adri, who does have her good points. Like bacon. Adri makes amazing vegan bacon from scratch with ingredients from the West Village and her knowledge of NYC is insane. If only she herself wasn’t, she’d be perfection. Fallon Antoinette Von Tussle (@henna-enjoys-the-little-things) Unlike the relationship between Tally and Co, Coldgrove could see Fallon and Cordelia Rose as friends far before they actually were. Perfectionists flock together, you know. And now that Co’s sober, her friendship with Miss Von Tussle can only grow into taking over the world together proportions. + bio; + dating status; + model; Ginta Lapina + taken by; @noceurs

Fashion Horoscope : Virgo

devious-diva — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 17:38:13 GMT

Fashion Horoscope : Virgo by devious-diva on Polyvore.com

California Fresh

Tigerz.

the-clary-project — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 22:58:22 GMT

Tigerz. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

I don't know what this is and I can't make any sets anymore.

Make it your own........

style-stories — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 02:26:38 GMT

Make it your own........ by style-stories on Polyvore.com

Today's flavour. . . . .

style-stories — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 20:20:29 GMT

Today's flavour. . . . . by style-stories on Polyvore.com

You gave her all your love.

the-clary-project — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 19:24:54 GMT

You gave her all your love. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

All I feel inspired to do in my regular layout is make Jess sets so I never make those anymore except I actually do but I never publish them. Even sets that start out as non-Jess sets, I'm like, "Hm, this quote/jacket/picture really reminds me of Jess" and then the whole thing falls apart.

Meow.

the-clary-project — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 16:37:37 GMT

Meow. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

I actually made a set and it's weird so hello. Also, can someone explain why people are randomly liking this set again http://www.polyvore.com/have_no_idea_what_im/set?id=79322646#fans because like I opened my computer this morning to way more notifications about an 8-day-old set than I'm used to and ya know that's cool but I'm confused so.

I'm falling apart in this king-sized bed

noceurs — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 00:42:10 GMT

I'm falling apart in this king-sized bed by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Roosevelt Hotel, Cocovan So this was going to be my audition for The Elite, but when I was about to copy/paste the audition form I realized two things: -I can't join anymore rps, I'm in too many -Despite this being an Ingrid (love you gurl) production, I just can't get over the fundamental issues I have with the Selection, as a book. We (well, Ducky and Ingrid mostly to you outsiders) had a productive conversation I have yet to reply to because I'm not sure how about bad books. And the Selection is one of them. It's a fluffy, vaguely original concept yeah, and an amazing roleplay I'm sure, but I just can't get over the gaping plot holes in the books and the just bad ideas. I mean, if people can't move between castes, why the hell would you have a caste for the homeless? Do you say NO YOU CAN'T TRY FOR A BETTER LIFE WE FORBID IT? Please, make logistical sense of it. I even noticed this while drunk like seven months ago (http://www.polyvore.com/sweet_jesus_im_really_drunk/set?id=57141760). So that's not cool. ...I'm a bad person and I should feel bad. Anecdote time: What I expected to happen yesterday when I made what could be considered a booty call: Gettin' Some What actually happened: Five hour Breaking Bad marathon Not sure if sad and pathetic or hilarious

Real Talk: Divergent

noceurs — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 04:05:42 GMT

Real Talk: Divergent by noceurs on Polyvore.com

So. This isn't a rant per se, because I'm not angry (unless you think this is passive aggressively directed at you, the person reading this, in which case get the fcuk over yourself), more like massively irritated. This is me trying to really talk about a subject a lot of people around here are super into, I guess. Really Talk. Real Talk. I like that. Okay, this is a Real Talk, in caps. Divergent. Surely by now you've heard of it, or read it and joined the hoards of screaming TrisxFour fans. That's not a spoiler. Is it? I don't even know. Maybe you're going to read it, in which case, have fun. I read Divergent in 2011, June or July I think. And god, I feel like such a hipster typing this, but I read it before the masses, same with the Hunger Games (... I'm not a hipster I swear). My big sister Kate had read it back in May and she ranted and raved for a month until I gave in and bought it. I read it over one or two days, maybe even a few hours, I can't remember, and then I pushed it aside. I'm pretty sure I was excited for the sequel, but who even knows now? Two years ago. Wow. My point is, I wasn't mind blown by it. I didn't find it anything special. And then last year some time, after Insurgent, it just blew up and now it's everywhere. I've seen three Divergent collections this week and that's why I'm even thinking about this. Now I'm just confused. I even went back and reread it to make sure I hadn't missed anything the first time and the revelation-ness of it or whatever, but no. And then a few days ago I was talking to a friend about books and we eventually came to Divergent. And she was just in love with it. Or so she said. Later in a text she confessed she didn't find it all that special when she read it by herself, and then after someone mentioned how good it was she liked it a lot better. Mob mentality. I think it's a nice book, certainly well written and well developed. But I just don't get it. Why do some books like Divergent and the Hunger Games get hyped instead of amazing young adult books like The Chemical Garden Trilogy and Kiki Strike? I'm not saying you're a terrible person for liking bestsellers. Far from it. As long as you're reading what you like, I am a-okay with it, not that my opinion matters. What I'm saying is I don't get the hype and I am massively tempted to just gouge my eyes out the next time I see it mentioned. That's all. Good night. **Please, if you want to comment, feel free, but be nice to me. I have opinions, you have opinions. I don't deserve hate for not agreeing with you. And it's totally sad I even have to put this, thank you anons on tumblr who taught me better.

Baby, you trip the switch and I'm sensitized.

noceurs — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 21:51:07 GMT

Baby, you trip the switch and I'm sensitized. by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Sensitized, Kylie Minogue I'm feeling bubblegum pop today I've finally fallen victim to Frida G's wiles. She just looks so innocent and perfect for this character. And seriously, I hadn't planned on joining any more roleplays, but Rae did Pretty Wicked which was honestly some sort of miracle. So meet anti Co. Co was kind of asexual, to be honest, or at least aromantic, Aislin is falls head first into love at the speed of light. Plus she doesn't do coke. In fact, she's totally feckin' pure until ~*things*~ go down. Plus I have a crush on her accent woops. Name: Aislin Niamh O'Neil Age: Seventeen Birthday: September twenty-fourth, nineteen ninety-six Hometown: St Andrews, Scotland {flake} Likes: bailey’s irish cream and strong black coffee, intricate rosaries, catholicism and the patron saint of scotland (saint andrew), purity, the colour white, being the school valedictorian, wealth, making fun of heathens, her friends, swimming in lakes and the ocean (not public pools, gross), scotland, travelling the world, chocolate ice cream, tall boys, boys in general actually, sheer stockings, diamonds, afternoon tea, victorian era etiquette, power, pastels, calorie counting, easily manipulated people, skin care, secrets, very good liars, fire, graveyards, cathedrals, tea lights, yachts, running, & the pursuit of happiness. Dislikes: fat, doubting herself, her newfound abandonment of her values, losing, her accent, her family, irish politics, stereotypes, self-proclaimed ‘sluuts’, fraternity boys, heathens, american slang, being loved for who her father is instead of who she is, dead people, bigots, vegans, & shady bars (she’ll take a nice lounge, thanks). Appearance: With her wide eyes and full lips, Aislin is the picture of innocence, which, of course, makes it all that much harder for the boys to stay away. She’s always coveted the racetrack curves of her older siblings, and cursed her own elfin frame, with practically no hips and minimal cleavage. She stands tall, however, which is the only thing that separates her from feeling like a Year Six little girl, even with all the male attention she receives. Height: 5’10” Weight: Aislin weighs in at just over one hundred twenty pounds, enough to keep her mother both happy and unconcerned. Music: Tove Lo, the weeknd, U2, Say Lou Lou, Charli XCX, Florrie Arnold, NONONO, Hugh Laurie, Lykke Li, Girls Aloud, Icona Pop, Cocovan, Röyksopp, Sigur Ros, & múm. Food: Spanish tapas, peppermints, French baguettes, oysters and strawberries (aphrodisiacs), crisps and biscuits, Smarties (the English kind), absolutely not haggis, French pastries, & tea (does that count?). Style: What can she say? Aislin likes her rich girl wear, all dotted, adorably girly Miu Miu and for darker days, Prada, with light touches of Valentino, Carolina, Jason, and Oscar. Essentially, as potential royalty, she dresses like it, preppy to a fault, the picture of a conservative, wealthy young lady you would expect to see in the Hamptons. Personality: Bio: For the first sixteen years of her life, Aislin was an obsessively pure, scarily devoted Catholic with few friends beyond Jesus and total dedication to her schoolwork, as proper as the daughter of the Duke of Hamilton and Brandon should be. After all, her family is approximately the twenty-third in line with a claim to the British Crown. Aislin grew up with the strictest of parents, which naturally explains almost the entirety her behavior. And then, around her seventeenth birthday, she changed, dumping her long skirts for the sort of minis so short they can hardly be seen. That was the least of her changes. She took up partying as a sport, and no one could understand why this perfect daughter had gone so bad. She knew, of course. It was all for attention, with her discovery of her father's multitude of affairs and her mother's pill popping, and for the only boy she had ever considered worth giving up her precious purity for. Unfortunately for her, she discovered she liked her new life style quite a bit more than her previous one, and she's landed more than her fair share of Tatler covers, usually on the arm of whatever distantly related royal member she's fallen in love with that week. See, ever since Aislin discovered boys were fascinating playthings, the girl who couldn't stand to be in a co-education school has been an addict. The Hamptons? More like love rehab. Family: Lord Cullen Angus O'Neil (Daniel Craig) Lord Cullen Angus O'Neil, but please, do call him Angus, is simultaneously the perfect father and husband and a cheating liar with a compulsive gambling habit. That's what happens when you have to wear a public face. Naturally, he suppresses the side that would lose him influence, even before his family, and so on the surface he is still the best father Aislin could imagine. Or, rather, he was. She is the lone dissenter in Castle O'Neil, after discovering his debts, and worse, the girls barely older than her parading out of his bedroom when her mother wasn't home. Aislin despises her father. But he was born to humble beginnings in a small Irish town, the illegitimate son of the Scottish Duke of Hamilton and Brandon. Anyone who knows anything about the United Kingdom is well aware that Ireland and Britain are warring tribes even to this day. Thus the lordship was completely out of the question for Angus and his single mother never told him as to protect him. Of course, he had a nose for trouble and found out with his own sneaky methods, running away to find his father at age eleven only to be rejected. He got his revenge later, when a car accident took the life of the sole legitimate heir to the lordship, his half-brother of sorts, and reluctantly, his father took him in and groomed him to succeed. He took the duchy and massive fortune while still keeping his own, utterly Irish name, at age twenty two the sole inhabitant of the castle that was now his. And then he met his future wife, Annika, and fell head over heels in love with her. Two sons and a beautiful daughter later, his life was perfect. Why give that up? Only he knows. Callum O'Neil (David Hopkins) Callum, or Cal usually, is Aislin’s oldest brother, a law student at Cambridge with high aspirations, heir to the family dukedom, and a pretty little fiance of his own. He adores his little sister, and just like she used to be, he is a model student and Catholic, unlike his brother, who identifies more with Aislin’s rebellious side. At ten years older than her, he likes to dispense useless knowledge whenever he can, usually at family gatherings. Family is utterly important to him and he loves his parents completely. If he knew what was going on while he was out in the real world, his whole life would come crashing down around his ears. And at the rate Aislin’s going, she might be the one to make sure he knows. Daniel 'Bard' O'Neil (Miles Garber) Lady Annika Brinkmann-O'Neil (Cato Van Ee) Past/Current Relationships: idk (Jakob Hybholt) idk (Johannes Linder) Best Friends: (want to be her friend? no, you don't. anyway, ask below I suppose) collection: {optional} model: Frida G taken by: @noceurs coming ok

in the bag : Vintage Chanel

devious-diva — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 20:26:49 GMT

in the bag : Vintage Chanel by devious-diva on Polyvore.com

It’s the best world’s feeling, like nothing can go wrong

noceurs — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 03:13:55 GMT

It’s the best world’s feeling, like nothing can go wrong by noceurs on Polyvore.com

Pumpin' Blood, NONONO Ultimate Pick-Me-Up Song Just a little flashback to their proposal because I needed a break from the other story I’ve been writing for Cal. Told from Seb’s point of view. --- APPROXIMATELY ONE YEAR PRIOR; Prague, Czech Republic "What about Mlynec?" In the bathroom a mere few feet away, there's a splash, and then a peal of bright laughter from my girlfriend. "Come on Seb, I was practically just there!" She calls from the water in the white marble tub she's submerged herself in. I shake my head and grin despite myself, letting her bubbly enthusiasm for living and being here spill over into me. It's been a month or so since Marrakech, and it's incredible to see how beautiful she becomes in the time she's away. The black velvet box in my pocket is the most right-feeling decision I've made. I just have to pick a goddamn restaurant. "Fine, Celeste?" There's a click and then the drain, and Cal sticks her head out from behind the door, lids half closed, sticking out her tongue, her blonde hair dripping onto the fluffy carpet. "Surprise me, it's not that hard!" She slips back behind the door and then reemerges in the giant white hotel robe, gliding over to me and spinning my desk chair to face her so she can kiss me once, ending it too quickly for me. "Not that hard? Calliope Grey, you've been everywhere!" I mock-scold, and she sticks out her lower lip in a ridiculous pout. If she wasn't using it as a weapon it would be adorable. "Okay, okay, I'll book a reservation now. Go get ready so I can keep it a surprise." Cal pecks my cheek once softly, lingering, before she disappears again and I pick up my phone, dialing the number. Finished before her, I glance around the room casually. The suite is one of the most expensive in the entirety of the hotel, with impressive floor to ceiling windows shining sunlight into bedroom with its luxurious, huge bed. Down the hall is the luscious bathroom, with orchids and a huge tub and vanity mirror. Down fifty floors, a waterfall's pool, above us, a garden on the roof. The room is too big, even for the two of us, and I know Cal's position on her wealth. Her parents are paying for this, I remember, they of the flashy, expensive tastes. I haven't met them yet, but if everything goes according to plan, I will very soon. Marrying her is possibly the only thing I could want right now. The door opens again and she sashays back in, hips swinging in a pronounced way. There’s something about her that’s different, and for a moment, I’m so distracted trying to figure it out I completely miss the tight, dark blue evening gown that skims her body, resting perfectly on her curves, studded with little twinkling stones. It’s a traffic-stopping look for her, and suddenly I feel incredibly lucky to have such an amazing, beautiful person want me. “So did you choose a place? My surprise?” I don’t answer, still staring at her. She breaks into a grin. “Seb. Focus. I know it’s hard when I’m such a total goddess, but damn, I’m starving.” I snap out of her spell. “Sorry, what?” He grin widens. “You’re such a boy!” It sounds like an insult, but she’s laughing and smiling, so I know I’m forgiven. She has to know how hot that dress is, anyway. “I made us reservations somewhere, but I’ll be keeping that a secret.” I punctuate it with a wink. She pouts for the second time this evening. Once more and I’ll have the location tortured out of me. But I offer her my arm, and she reaches to adjust my velvet bowtie before she takes it, almost as tall as me in her high heels. “No hints? Come on Seb!” She draws out every word. I shake my head. “No hints, sorry babe.” She faces ahead again as we walk to the elevator and refuses to look at me. I can feel the box in my pocket again, the ring, a plain, braided gold band that could be easily mistaken for something other than an engagement ring. The elevator dings and we walk across the busy, for this time of night at least, hotel lobby with its high ceilings and gold accents everywhere. Eyes follow my girlfriend. She’s wrapped her favourite faux mink over her shoulders, looking like a true starlet, her hair curling softly down her back as she leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Not one hint?” I laugh, and push her gently away. “Fine, fine. Water.” She frowns. “That’s not even a real hint!” I grin. “Exactly.” She crosses her arms across her chest, the movement sending a ripple down her tight gown. “You’re not nice at all.” She quiets again, likely thinking on my non-identifier as we make our way to the cab a doorman fetches for us. He stares openly, and I feel both a swell of pride and a flash of jealousy. She could leave me so easily. It’s miraculous she stays with me, a plain business man-child to her worldly, gorgeous self. She’s illuminated by the lights outside the window, little shadows exposing the parts of her she hates, the slight bump on her nose from the time she broke it cliff diving in Mexico, the little tweak in her left eyebrow where she cut it when she was a little girl. They’re beautiful strokes of a masterpiece. I compare her to a painting all the time in my head, and I completely understand why my friends think I’m a lovesick puppy. Cal leans her head over on my shoulder, and I stroke her hair gently. “How much longer? I’m really hungry.” I shrug before realizing she can’t exactly see what I’m doing. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.” She seems satisfied by this and buries her face in my chest. “I love you.” She says it so softly I can barely hear it, and I lower my voice to match hers. “I love you too, Callie.” In response, she squeezes my hand. Our cab comes to a halt suddenly, and forces us onto the cold sidewalk in front of the restaurant, all demure lighting, completely romantic according to all my research, with a patio overlooking the river. She inhales sharply. “Oh my god, I’ve tried to come here so many times.” I slip my hand around to hold the small of her back, and she breathes in again. She’s vulnerable in this moment, and for a moment I think we both forget who we are. She reaches out for my face at the door, taking it in her hands and lowering me to her, a soft, lingering kiss, something from the movies with its sweetness. I find the zipper hidden in her gown and note it for the inevitable later. It’s almost a shame we have to go inside and eat the endless aphrodisiacs, designed to make the restaurant the destination for proposals like mine. We take patio seats, below our feet the water ebbing and flowing in perfect time. The first course slips by, then the palate cleanser, the champagne, the second course, and we’re left with the final choice, dessert. I can see not better time to do this, and I get up from my seat, stepping back a few paces. Cal watches, interested, and I start to kneel. I’m lowering toward the ground when I hear my girlfriend’s voice, and the trill of a whistle. “Shiit!” I bring myself back up to a real stand. Her phone is ringing. Her goddamn phone is ringing. She turns away as she answers, seeming to forget me already as she rises from her seat, exclaiming over and over. “What?” and “That’s insane.” with the occasional expletive. When she hangs up, I know it’s over. “Seb, oh my god, you won’t believe this... They’re revolting. In Egypt. And Tunisia, and Libya, and Yemen, oh my god. Analysts are calling it the the Arab Spring. I have to be there, immediately.” I’ve been stunned into silence. “Seb?” “Yes, Cal, just... go. Do your thing. I’ll see you when it’s over.” Her expression flickers between heartbreak and excitement. “I’ll call you, love, I promise, more than I did from Iraq.” She kisses me one final time, and then leaves, still in her gown, eyes still following. Watching her leave physically hurts my chest. Everytime I worry she’ll be killed. I want to at least be married to her at some point, but I can’t. Not with these revolutions. It just hurts. And so I quietly pay the bill and leave. The room is empty of her things when I come back, and I book my flight back. This has been an utter disaster, but strangely, I only love her more. APPROXIMATELY THREE WEEKS LATER; Calliope is in Cairo, Egypt; Sebastien is in Los Angeles, California “Mister Chamis, your girlfriend’s on... Woah!” My secretary, moonlighting as an average office worker while she auditions in Hollywood, calls from the front room, and I grab the remote on my desk. She’s been silent for two weeks, and every time CNN comes up I’ve been watching carefully for her beautiful face. She has yet to appear, and I know the gasp in the other room can’t be good. I’m right. She’s got rebel black painted under her eyes, and there’s a sash of bullets draped across her military fatigues. She looks like a protestor, one of the dangerous ones, and I collapse into my chair to watch her talking. She sounds different, even, emphasizing the need for action as the government kills the people in Tahrir Square. The commentators finish her segment with ‘Calliope Grey, participatory journalist, and banter for a few minutes on her impressive ability to join a revolution in order to report on it better’. I shut it off. If she’s still in contact with CNN, then she’s not dead. But the numbers of the dead is terrifying, and in a moment of desperation, I pull up Skype. She’s there. My heart soars as I click the call button. She comes on my screen, looking like she did in the video, but I recognize a media tent behind her as she ties her hair back. She grins, and I can’t help but grin back. “Hey rebel.” Her hair is in ponytail now, streaked with dirt, unwashed. “Hey handsome. Did you see my segment?” I nod. “You’re incredible.” Her face lights up with my praise. “Aw. What do you need?” I’ve been keeping the box with me everywhere I go since Prague, and I shift it between my fingers for a few moments before I decide to do it here, and now. “Cal, we got interrupted in Prague.” She starts to reply but I cut her off, bringing the black box into her view. She breathes in. “I was going to do this in a much more, ah, romantic place, but now I really can’t wait. Calliope Devon Grey, will you marry me?” A tear slips from one eye, then the other as she covers her mouth, nodding emphatically. “Is that a real question? Oh my god, yes!”

I have no idea what I'm doing.

the-clary-project — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 15:57:26 GMT

I have no idea what I'm doing. by the-clary-project on Polyvore.com

Layout @katrinaballerina yo.