leather over the shoulder bag

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Lottie Tomlinson makes a rare appearance at London Fashion Week
Lottie Tomlinson - little sister to One Direction star Louis - was sure to make a splash at London Fashion Week over the weekend.

She’s kept a relatively low profile since she lost her mother at Christmas.

But Lottie Tomlinson - little sister to One Direction star Louis - was sure to make a splash at London Fashion Week over the weekend.

On Saturday she appeared at Nickelodeon’s SpongeBob Gold 18th Anniversary in collaboration with the LFW Design collective.

The pop star sibling wore a baggy cornflower blue sweater over a short silver skirt, white sports socks and black running shoes.

She piled her grey-tinted locks in one slanted bun on top of her head and decorated her eyes with a dark coat of eye-liner.

After posing with a life-sized SpongeBob, she was joined by 1D’s stylist, Lou Teasdale, who wore her similarly-shaded hair loose.

Her outfit considered of a distressed denim, with deliberate tears in it here and then, a black top, bronze pendant necklace and bright orange trousers - all finished off with white tennis shoes.

Beauty blogger Lottie had spent Friday at the slightly more glam Charlotte Simone presentation at The Vinyl Factory with Gemma Styles - the sister of Louis’ bandmate Harry.

The pair seemed to have compared notes as they each sported colourful fur scarves.

Lottie kept things silvery in a slinky light grey sweater, one shoulder showing, and shiny metallic vinyl cropped trousers.

She kept her footwear very casual with black trainers and she wore her silver/blonde tresses bunched up in two pigtails.

She decorated the look with various gold accessories, including bangle earrings and a name necklace.

Her famous brother’s bandmater’s sister kept it all black other than the blue, white and black fur scarf she wore, which co-ordinated with Lottie’s white, pink, teal and indigo wrap.

Lottie was last seen when she and her brother were spotted rallying around one another in the lead up to Christmas.

Despite having to face their first festive season without their beloved mother since her passing, Louis  also had to go through his first birthday without her too.

Born on Christmas Eve 1991, Louis turned 25 the day before Christmas and his little sister was sure to make sure she used the occasion to honour her brother in light of their recent family tragedy.

In an Instagram snap uploaded by 18-year-old Lottie, the siblings are seen huddled together and smiling, seemingly on a night out.

She captioned the photo: ‘My brother and best friend forever … Happy birthday!’

Georgia May Foote was in attendance, keeping things all black and extremely sleek-looking, sporting long flowing trousers tired at the front, with a cropped, low-cut top.

Her straight dark locks fell around her shoulders, which were covered in a black leather jacket. She also wore a black choker around her neck.

She wore a styling black hat, dark pumps and splashed crimson lipstick on her pout.

Mariah Idriss - who is the first model to wear a hijab in an H&M campaign - was in attendance.

The 23-year-old, who is of Pakistani and Moroccan heritage, posed in an eye-catching leisurewear ensemble in black, grey and orange check.

She completed the look with colourful dangling earrings, a turban and bkack boots, as well as some rustic bangles on her wrist and a leather bag over her shoulder.

Caffeine Challenge #12-- done!

You can read mine below or here (X)! This one is yet another WIP lol. Good job everyone who participated, I can’t wait to read yours!


I’m on a bus before I know it, my sister’s voice still ringing in my ears.

“Mom’s dead. They’re calling in a new Sheriff.”

It’s been years since I’ve been home, but I know what that means. There’ll be blood in our county before the month’s up and, with Sis pregnant with her second, that’s something Abbey’s can’t afford.

So I break the promise I made when I was sixteen and I come home. Mom’s not around to care though, so it’s hardly like there was much of a promise to break anyway.

Judging by Orisa’s face, she doesn’t agree.

“I told you not to come,” she says when I jump off the bus. She’s got a toddler by the hand and her belly is swollen with another child. For all that, she’s still got a whole belt of stakes slung over her shoulder.

“You’re expecting trouble,” I say, chin jerking to the wood. “I had to.” I drop my bag at my feet and squat down with a friendly smile. “Ara? Is that you? But, it can’t be, you’re so big!”

The little girl, hair the color of sunlight, ducks behind her mother’s legs, amber eyes distrustful.

“I saw you when you were a baby,” I say to the little girl. She’s got her mama’s freckles, only a shade darker than her brown skin. She’s beautiful. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me.”

“The locals certainly remember you,” Orisa tells me. “What are you thinking, Mable, coming back now?”

I exhale through my nose and stand. “I’m thinking that we’re in Sheriff-less territory and you’re the late lady’s daughter, Orisa. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“They like me here,” Orisa says, white teeth flashing. “You coming back is only going to stoke the fires, Mable. You know that.”

I keep my smile pleasant, aware of Ara’s eyes on me. “The fires are already stoked, Orisa. You should know that.”

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anonymous asked:

Helllllllloooo I have a prompt for the captive prince series, and I thought this would be cute. How about an AU where Damen runs a bakery and every morning at 5am, when he opens and preps for the shop, he comes across Laurent passing by to go into the convenience store a few blocks down. One day he was the courage to stop him. Hopefully curiosity doesn't kill the cat.

It’s the first chilly Monday after Anzac Day when the most attractive person that Damen has ever seen crosses his path at 4:55am on the dot. Damen actually walks past the door to his own bakery, has to retrace his steps, and takes three tries to fit the key in the lock, he’s so distracted by the memory of the flawless face and the shock of neat blond hair.

The next day, the man is there again. Damen manages to open the door on the second try, this time.

It becomes routine. Like clockwork. Damen walking one way down the street to open the bakery and turn on the ovens; the man walking the other way, a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder, never making more than peremptory eye contact. The street traffic is thin, at that hour, and foot traffic even thinner. There’s not much in the way of natural dawn light, as the days get shorter, though the street is well-lit, orange streetlights spilling down an artificial glow.

Damen develops a furious curiosity about who the man is. He looks young; younger than Damen, early twenties at the very most. Is he a suicidally dedicated finance intern, on his way into the CBD? A shift worker? An early-morning gym goer?  (“A vampire?” says Nikandros sarcastically, not looking up from the plait of yellow brioche taking shape under his hands.)

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Rabid

Anon prompt: “Song fic around Rabid by Nicole Dollanganger?

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: smoking, swearing, minor spoilers

A/N: I love this song so much, thank you for requesting it.

-

The first time Jughead saw her, she was sitting alone in a booth at the Chock’Lit Shoppe with a plate of pastel pink macaroons. She was a booth in front of him reading Lolita; slowly eating the macaroons and flipping the pages of her novella, seemingly in her own world.

Jughead watched her from the safety of his booth, he was careful not to stare for too long. After a few minutes of fleeting glances towards her, she peered over her book, her gaze meeting his.

Something ugly in you, you also saw in me.

She seemed intrigued by the raven-haired boy who didn’t shy away from her glance like most did.
They exchanged soft, short glances and unspoken words. He ordered her a strawberry shake, she smiled and drank it slowly.
She ordered him a cheeseburger, looking smug as he devoured the entire thing.

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4

image: four picture of a non binary person with dark hair and black rimmed glasses. they are wearing a dark shirt and a black faux leather jacket. they have a black, floral bag over one shoulder and a guitar strapped over their other shoulder. end description.

~*~punk rock enby // latinx freedom fighter~*~

bonus: when my datemate @feuillyadeux made me laugh

The DUFF

Part One 

Dean x reader 

College AU

Summary: The reader and Dean are neighbors in college. The reader learns about the knew social status called the DUFF. The reader is desperate a looks for help.  Dean helps her reinvent herself while she tutors Dean. But she didn’t expect to fall for him. 

A/N: This is my first Dean x reader so any fed back would be very helpful! Thank you!

Originally posted by black-little-demons

You could never have figured out where it all went wrong when everything in your life collapsed on itself. How could everything go so wrong in so little time?  It must have been the day when you thought it would be a fantastic idea to go to a fraternity party the night before an important exam. How could you have been so stupid? But no, it wasn’t the fact that it was a school night or the fact that you had the late shift the next night at the bar. No, it was the unbelievable idea that you thought you could go one night without embarrassing yourself, or for that matter, able to be normal for one night.

               It was one of those days where all you could do was think about getting out of class. The professor would just not stop talking! The ancient man dragged out all of his words in such a slow manner that you thought time might have stopped. It was Thursday and you needed lunch, desperately. But no, the professor just had to repeat everything you needed to prepare for tomorrow’s exam.

              You sat in the half-filled auditorium, looking at the big screen. Tapping your pen on your desk you look at the time on your computer. Two minutes left till the long awaited freedom. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your class, it was your favorite in fact and you were the top of your class, but you just couldn’t find the energy to care. It was a long and vigorous shift last night so you were already tired and irritable. Luckily you had tonight off.

              After packing up your items and slipping your leather bag over your shoulder, you walked outside, the sun blinding you for a moment.

“Y/N!” you heard your name called out from your right side. Turning towards the sound, you squinted your eyes looking for the person who called out. Sitting on the cement wall waiting for you were your two best friends, Lizzy and Jenna. The two girls were both taller than you, so naturally, when they both got up, you tilted your head slightly.

“Ready for some lunch?” Lizzy asked. Looking at your friend you took in what she decided to wear today, ripped jeans, a white lace camisole, with brown boots. Her blonde hair was curled and almost everything about her looked flawless. You had to give her credit, the girl knew fashion and one day hoped to be an aspiring fashion designer.

“Yeah I was thinking about Polly’s; does that sound good?” commented Jenna, and you glanced over at her. Her shiny black hair was put up in a ponytail and her tan was looking great. Jenna was the jock of your group, captain of your college’s soccer team and coach of a young girls’ team as a job. Today she was in jeans with Nike’s and a white t-shirt.

“Sounds perfect!” you responded. You looked down at your red and black flannel with jeans and sneakers and thought it would be good enough.

Walking into the small café, you instantly smelled the coffee and smell of dusty old wood. You each took a seat at a table next to a window. When the waiter came he said hello to the two other girls by name, he must be new, you thought because you’ve been a regular at Polly’s for two years now, how could he not know you? You each ordered a sandwich and coffee then began light chatting.

“Uh-oh, don’t look now but it’s Amy Roberts.” Jenna quickly whispered then sipping her coffee as if trying to hide her face.

Ugh, Amy Roberts, the rich snobby red head, who only attends the university because her father is a big contributor to the school. You weren’t even sure what she was studying.

She sashayed right over to your table and you immediately felt everything you just ate rise in your stomach.

“Hello ladies, I just wanted to give you these invitations for my party tonight, it’s at my fraternity house, hope to see you there.” She set the two envelopes on the table. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

“Why are you inviting us?” you asked curiously.

Amy then laughed as if you had said was a joke. “I’m not inviting you silly, I’m inviting Lizzy and Jenna. I would invite you, but I only have so many invitations, sorry maybe next time.” She faked a sad frown. That’s it, you thought, today is the day, I swear I will rip those fake eyelashes off so hard you won’t be able to see two feet in front of yourself! But as it turns out, Jenna beat you to it.

“Well, here we can fix that.” She took her invitation and tore it in half. Jenna turned to you and gave you the other half with a smile. It made you happy to know she had your back, as fearless as ever.

Amy faked a smile, “Great! Can’t wait to see you there Y/N, but wear something nice.” She had the nerve to look you up and down as if you weren’t even worthy to look at. “See you later.” And she sashayed back out of the café, to join her little group of followers.

“That girl makes me want to scream.” You sighed in frustration and the girls giggled at you.

“I just feel really bad for Dean,” Lizzy said. Right, Dean Winchester, Amy’s ex-boyfriend, but then again he could be her boyfriend. They were the type of couple that would be on and off again constantly, like strobe lights. He was the quarterback for your school’s football team, the school neanderthal, your childhood neighbor, and unfortunately, your current neighbor.  You both lived in a three-story building, your apartments on the top floor, right next to each other. You could hear him partying every other night while you were up late trying to study.

“Well, he got himself into that mess.” You said, believing every word of it. You just didn’t go for guys like that. The ones who think they own the world because they’re strong and find that everything comes easily to them. You were into the ones who actually had the intellect and could hold a conversation without the words “nice ass” or “workout”. Someone like the guy sitting on the other side of the restaurant. The light brown hair, hazel eyed angel. His name is Gabriel, but everyone calls him Gabe. He is in your communications class and he plays guitar, but you never actually spoke to him.


“Y/N…Y/N!” you snap out of your daydreaming to turn your eyes back to your friends.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You quickly tried to cover up you’re unbearably awkward staring.

“Aww, Jenna, Y/N was making love eyes to Gabe, how cute.” Lizzy teased.

“I wasn’t making ‘love eyes’,” You retorted with air quotes, “I was just simply gazing with interest.”

“Yeah, well I heard from Chuck that Gabe was going to be there tonight at Amy’s party,” Jenna informed while poking you.

“Really?” You couldn’t help but hope.

“Uh-huh, so let’s go back to your place and pick out an outfit for you.”

“Isn’t what I’m wearing fine?” you said. You felt really comfortable and didn’t feel like changing.

“Yeah if we were going hunting!” Lizzy exaggerated.

“Fine let’s just get this done.” You rolled your eyes, not feeling like dressing up or being in a large crowd. But to be able to have the chance to talk to Gabe was too great to pass up.

 

Four hours later you three are standing on the doorstep of a large and beautiful house.

“Y/N, are you sure want to go in like that, just please take my extra shirt.” Lizzy pointed to her purse with the tight-fit strapless shirt.
“No way, this is my lucky party shirt!” you said. You were in a black skirt with a red Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black combat boots.

She just smiled and rolled her eyes as she and Jenna walked inside the house. As you walked in, you had to look out for the drunk people who almost spilled their drinks all over you. The house crowded with people everywhere, half of them you’ve never even seen before and some you were sure weren’t even students. It was loud with music booming and people cheering over drink games.

The girls lead you to the backyard next to the pool, where there was just a little bit more space. The air was hot and sticky and all you wanted was to be home with a good book and your bed. You casually looked around, hoping to catch a glance at Gabe, but no luck. When you turned back around, the girls were dancing.

“Come dance with us!” Lizzy exclaimed.

“No, no I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said, feeling awkward just standing there, but knowing you’ll look awkward if you tried to dance.

“Pleasssssse!” they pleaded.
“I think I’ll just go get something to drink.” You said, but it didn’t matter because they were already busy dancing again. You just smiled to yourself, glad that at least they were having fun.

As you walked inside you saw Kevin, one of the smarter but more popular people of your school, who was also not that bad looking either.

“Hey… what’s your name again?” he asked you, clearly buzzed.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “Y/N, Kevin we have English together.” you stated.

“Right, Y/N, have you seen Lizzy and Jenna? Did they come with you?” you could smell the beer on his breath.

“Uh, yeah. They’re right out back.”

“Thanks.” He said as he drunkenly stumbles away.

Wanting to take a load off, you walked over to the table with drinks. While pouring your drink you heard a laugh somewhere near you. You turned to your right to see that the laugh belonged to none other than Dean Winchester.

“Y/N! What the on earth are you doing here, at a frat party, on a school night!” he said with a surprised look. You saw he was wearing a tight black t-shirt with jeans.

“Shut up Winchester, you make me sound like a prudent old lady. For your information, I will go to my occasional party.” He chuckled.

“Yeah well I can sometimes hear your party right next door, I’m guessing your bedroom,” he wiggled his eyes, “you know, thin walls and all.” You gasped at him and lightly punched his shoulder.  

“Relax Y/N, I’m just kidding. So where are your girls, Jenna and Lizzy?”

“How should I know Dean, I’m not their secretary.”

“Well you, should, as you know, their DUFF,” Dean said as if it was obvious.

“As their what?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Their DUFF. Designated, Ugly, Fat, Friend.”

“What did you just say to me?” you couldn’t believe this, you were about to slap the man.

“You know, you’re the person everyone goes to when they want to be with Lizzy or Jenna. Every group of friends has them. The approachable one. The person who is less good looking than the rest of them.” He gestured his arms towards you. But you just blinked at him, not understanding and a little bit ticked off.

“Okay, for example, see that guy over there, the freshmen, he’s new to our football team. Well, Paige, the hot senior, is talking to him, to gain info about me. Probably to see if I’m single.” He pointed to where the pair were standing on the white staircase.

You looked over to see a tall gangly looking boy who was clearly nervous around the good looking girl who was sort of paying attention to him. You saw her whisper something to him, then they both glanced at Dean. Paige gave him a kiss on the cheek and then turned on her heels to leave him. As she walked past you two she gave a little flirtatious wave to Dean. You saw he gave her a charming smile and wink and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

He turned back to you and said, “See what I mean.” Taking this in, you looked around to find more and more of these situations going on.

“Okay Y/N, about how many times a day do people ask you about Jenna or Lizzy?”

You thought for a moment, “A fair amount, but so what I’m their- “he cut you off.

“Now how many people ask you about you?” You couldn’t answer, and that really hurt. Hearing all of this made you sick. So many thoughts were flying through your head and you couldn’t take it. The crowd, the noise, the heat, and new information was just all too much.

“See Y/N, this was a good talk.” And this douchebag was too much, “I feel like-” But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because you through your beer all over him. Too angry to think you stormed out of the house, almost pushing someone over in the process. Lizzy drove you and there was no way you were going to go back in there. You had no cash on you so you couldn’t get a taxi. Sighing, you picked up your feet and began walking home.

You replayed the last ten minutes in your head, getting angrier just thinking about it. But you couldn’t help to reflect on your past relationship with your two friends. Yeah sure, they were taller, a little bit more fit, and beautiful, while you were smaller and more petite, but you weren’t fat or ugly by no means. The nerve of some people! But then you remembered how when the waiter said hello to Jenna and Lizzy, Amy gave invitations to only them, and Kevin asked where they were. And that was only today!

You just looked up at the open night sky and screamed an angry cry. People were assholes and you weren’t going to let it get to you.

 

And you didn’t, until the next day. When you woke up it was your first thought and it pissed you off.
“Ah, fuck it.” You said, giving up on how looked. You rolled out of bed and kept on your gray t-shirt and green and gray plaid pajama pants. Your hair was in a messy bun you noticed but just shrugged your shoulders. You applied deodorant, brushed your teeth, slipped on your sneakers, grabbed your bag, and headed for your day of classes.  

When you got to your psychology class you were used to the uncomfortable feeling of eyes on you. You had been through three classes of this and library full of students. You took your seat towards the back of the auditorium.

“Hey Duffy, need help studying? And nice PJ’s.” Oh great, it was Dean, just the idiot you didn’t want to see.

“No. Go away.”

“Ouch, why so grumpy, you shouldn’t be mad at me, I should be mad at you, you ruined my favorite shirt.” You gave him a death glare.

“Dean,” you started turning towards his desk next to yours, “you called me fat and ugly. Of course, I’m mad at you!”

“What… no, I didn’t. I called you the DUFF.”

“Yeah well excuse me that it stands for designated ugly fat friend!”

“Yes, but the DUFF doesn’t actually have to be fat or ugly. Tony Romo is a Dallas Cowboy, doesn’t mean he has to ride a horse.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You said, annoyed to the point of punching him.

“That’s not the point, the point is I would never call you, or anyone for that matter fat or ugly. It’s just the word and it stuck.”

“Oh my god, get out of here before I murder you.” You replied fed up. He got up and walked away but then came back a second later.

“You’re not really going to murder me are you?” he asked. You replied with what you felt was a murderous stare. “Okay, you really are.” Then he walked away for good.

When you walked out of the of your seminar, you overheard Dean talking to your professor.

“Mr. Winchester I’m sorry but you can’t keep playing with these grades. Another F is not acceptable. You will be suspended from the football team.” Dean looked crushed and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Please Professor, is there anything I can do?” he asked with desperation in his voice.

“Once you bring your grade up to a B, you can play at games, until then only one practice a week.”

Before either of them could notice you, you quickly walked out of the classroom. While walking on the sidewalk an idea popped into your head and it involved the one and only Dean Winchester. Seems as you can’t get rid of him yet.

 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You looked up from your book you were reading in the library. You saw Lizzy and Jenna walking towards you. It was the first time you had seen both of them, as you were trying to avoid both them. It just didn’t feel right being with them.

“I’m fine.” You said a little too sharply. “How was the party?”

“Oh, it was great! Someone jumped off the roof and into the pool and then the cops showed up! Where were you, when did you leave?” Jenna spoke quickly.

“I- uh wasn’t feeling well. So I just walked home, I didn’t want to make you guys leave.” You said, avoiding their eyes.  

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay?” Lizzy continued to push, worry coming across her face.

“I said I was fine!” you snapped surprising the girls and even yourself.

“Y/N what’s going on, come on, talk to us.” Jenna pleaded.

“Just let it go, my goodness!” you grabbed your books and bag and rushed out of the library. You were boiling, this whole DUFF thing was really getting to you. It wasn’t your friends’ fault; you just couldn’t help to take it out on them.

Two hours later and you couldn’t believe who you were standing next to.

“So you want me to de-DUFF you? Make you more attractable? Why me?” Dean raised his eyebrows questioning you.

“Because you were the only asshole to tell me about the whole DUFF thing. You’re an asshole, but an honest asshole. I need that. So will you teach me how to be more, uh likable.” You gave him puppy eyes. “You see I like this guy, Gabriel, and I want him to notice me.” Dean looked down at you as he caught a football. He was sweating and you could see his bright green eyes with the sun shining on them.

“And what’s in it for me?” He asked.

“I heard you were failing psychology. Dean that’s my best class! I could tutor you and give you my notes. With my help, you’ll get a B in no time and you’ll be right back on the field playing football.” You gave him a grin hoping he will agree.

“You make it sound so easy. For you yeah it might be easy to teach me, you’re a genius. But I have real work to do with you.” He through the football back, his biceps flexing in the process. You punched him in the arm knowing that he was only joking.

“Not funny Winchester.”

“What, I thought it was.” He winked at you. “Fine, I’ll do it!”

“Great!” you felt a wave of relief, you really didn’t know if your plan would work.

“But,” and you felt your stomach drop. “You have to give me a hug.”

“Right now?” you asked hoping to God that he didn’t mean it.

“Oh yeah, while I’m nice a sweaty.” The blond man grinned at you. “Do for old time’s sake Y/N.”

“No way Dean!”

“Fine then you can kiss Gabriel goodbye, but oh wait, you wouldn’t kiss h-”

“Okay, I’ll hug you! Gosh, you’re so immature Winchester you know?” you ridiculed.

“Ah but you love me Y/N. Now come here!” He wrapped his arms around you.

“Ew, you smell Dean!” But he just laughed at you, and eventually you joined him.

“Just like in the backyard, remember?” he asked.

“Yeah, whatever.” You responded. You peeled yourself away from his wide frame.

“Okay so let’s wake up around nine, have breakfast and go to the mall together. It will be our first lesson.” Dean suggested.

“Sounds good. See then neighbor.” You waved to him.

“Alright awesome.” He grinned back.

This was a terrible idea you thought to yourself as you walked off of campus. But maybe Dean can get you Gabe, and who knows? It might even be kind of fun, right?

The Other (Bucky x Reader) Part 1

Summary: Being a mutant with abilities is difficult enough, without having all this soulmate business to deal with in addition. Y/N meets hers in the least expectant place, but isn’t necessarily as thrilled as he’d hoped. However, a drastic turn of events require them to go to desperate measures to preserve what little they have.

Chapter List

Masterlist


Part One

You were hit with a blinding headache and you let out a loud groan. He quickly followed suit, and your ears went fuzzy.

You grabbed your gun with your other hand as fast as you could, and pointed it at him again. He was holding his in his human arm now, pointing it at you.

You looked at him and your gaze connected. You could see in his eyes that he knew, and you exhaled slowly.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice was raw and husky.

“You’re one of them.”


Everyone’s was different. Well, actually, not quite. But we’ll get back to that. A circle, forever tattooed on the inside of the wrist. Some were big, some were small, but most were about the size of a relatively large coin.

The inside of the circle was blank. That’s the one thing everyone had in common. But the circle itself; the actual frame, that’s where the unique part came in. Everyone’s frame was different, matching only to their Other. Actually, no. That’s not entirely true. See, all humans had a black, grey, or white frame. Mutants, however had all sorts of colours decorating the Mark. Yours was fairly simple, but you didn’t mind. You were a minimalist, anyway.

Sometimes the inside of the circle would flash different colours; indicating the mood of your Other. That’s right, you were basically all tattooed with large mood-ring-equivalents on your wrist. But the mood-ring was fine compared to the Flashes. Every so often, you would get a sudden headache, where you couldn’t see anything around you. All you could see were glimpses of your Other’s sight. All that they saw, you could see. Only for a few seconds, though. The closer you were to meeting them, the more frequent the Flashes were.

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Officer Negan ( Negan x Noa)

Summary: Noa Campbell moves to a new town called Sanctuary after being hired for a new job. As fate will have it, she literally bumps into Officer Negan

Characters: Officer Negan x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2,181 words
,
Warnings: Mild language and eventual smut (just not in this part)

Author’s Note: I am taking part in another Negan fanfiction challenge created by @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. @negans I chose to write about Negan and an Original Character.

The story is a lot longer than this. This is just part one. Its one hell of a rollercoaster ride.


Officer Negan x Oc
The main reason why Noa Campbell moved to a small time like Sanctuary was work. She got a job working as a freelance journalist for the local paper. The idea of moving to Sanctuary made her nervous. Noa lived in the city for her entire life. Now she needed to adjust to the peace and quiet. The crickets chirping loud outside in the yard and the idea of everyone knowing her name. Forget about the part of being one of the few black people there. That was a given. She thought about someone burning a cross on her lawn one evening out of spite. A thought that crossed her mind as she carried the final box up the front steps of her new home.

She decided that she needed to go for a drive around the town. It was too pretty to be sitting in the house eating takeout and watching movies on her phone. Well that and the cable guy wasn’t coming until, the next weekend and it was only Sunday. Noa decided to drive downtown first. The warm night air filled up her nose as she cruised through the streets. This was life at the moment and she was okay with that.

Noa parked her car downtown at the corner of Main Street and Marigold. She climbed out slinging her black leather bag over her shoulder and shutting the door. She saw some kids walking on the side walk. They giggle as they pass her, but she’s not the source of their humor. No, one of them was eating an ice cream cone piled high with as many flavors as it could hold. Unfortunately, this kid is a bit of a klutz. That explains why his white shirt has a dark stain on it. One the kids calls his chocolate boy and they all start cracking up. Noa misses the rest of the conversation, but smiles.
She remembered laughing at her baby brother Sam for being a klutz. He somehow managed to always drop something or another on his clothing. The main reason why Noa left her house was for a coffee fix. The Sanctuary has a crap load of stores and establishments, but not one Starbucks. How is that possible? Isn’t that supposed to be a prerequisite for all cities and towns? See this is how she knows that she’s been living in the city for far too long. Back home all that she had to do was turn a corner and she could get a Frap. Noa sighs thinking how out of all the things that she will miss that will be on the top of the list.

Thank god that the town has a decent looking coffee shop with the name Toni’s on its sign. Noa believes that it’s named after author Toni Morrison. The owner who is a young white dude in his early thirties with purple hair reveals that this is the truth. One short hello turns into a conversation about a book called The Bluest Eye. Dwight (aka the purple haired dude) started talking about his favorite character Claudia. She’s a little black girl with strong feelings of distain towards a doll that her mother brought her. Claudia doesnt want to be anyone other than herself. She’s okay with having brown eyes. There’s no need for her to change herself. Like Dwight says, those blue eyes are all that poor Pecola lives for to make herself feel beautiful. The book is all about the self-hatred that many young black girls feel. This need to fit into boxes that they don’t need to fit in. They are fine the way that they are.

The drink that Noa ordered is a vanilla latte. She’s about to take it to go, but decides to drink it in house. When she walked over to the counter to wait for the drink, there’s a small crowd of patrons gathered. Everyone was in the middle of separate conversations. Two men bickered over curtains. One thinks that blue is a beautiful color while the other likes green. One woman carried a small dog with a pink bow on her head. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she looks perfect. This is not to say that Noa doesn’t look nice nor does she envy her. No, this woman appears to be some sort of model. Later on, Noa learns that she owns a place called Jessie’s pleasure closet. A store six shops down with pink letters on the sign.

There’s a man and woman holding hands and pecking each other on the lips every so often. What she wants is to tell both of them to get a room. Each group drifts away leaving her alone waiting. Some other people pop up, but Noa pays more attention to her phone than them. An alert about a few emails seems to distract her. One of which reminds her that the cable company is coming. The door opens when her back is turns. She hears the jingle of a bell.

Someone says, “Dwighty boy, I can’t for the life of me understand why the fuck you dye your hair all those colors.” “There’s nothing wrong with a little color in your life.” “You know I know that,” the voice says with a laugh. Noa sees him in of the corner of her eye and looked over. It’s a tall dark and handsome man with a bright smile dressed in a police uniform. She feels her skin prickle with goosebumps. Look away, Noa. Look away,” she tells herself. You did nothing wrong. He will get his coffee and go. One breath in and the other pushed out slowly as she continued checking her phone. “One vanilla latte,” says the female barista Sherry. A petite brunette with big blue eyes and a sweet smile. “Thanks,” Noa replies taking her drink from the counter.

She tucks her phone into her pocket then turns around. Somehow, someway Noa manages to collide with the person behind her. During the collision, her drink fell out of her hands and landed on the floor. “Shit,” she replies noticing that the liquid spilled all over this person’s shoes. Noa looks up about to open her mouth to apologize when she makes eye contact. Fear rushing through her as she stands face to face with the cop. Of all the people to bump into and she bumps into him. Her voice wavers as she says, “I’m so sorry. It was my fault.” He smiles looking down at her with those hazel eyes. ‘It was an honest mistake, darling. This is what I get for not watching where I was going.” Noa closes her mouth then bend down to pick up the cup.

“Listen,” she says, “if there is any way that I can…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “It happens to me a lot. Allow me to buy you another drink for scaring the shit out of you.” Noa wants to say no, but allows him to because he insists.


She listens to as him speak not paying attention to his words. She only understood that this man was “shooting the shit” so to speak with Dwight. Sherry hands Noa her drink with raised eyebrows and a look that says good luck. Noa’ eyebrows raise as she takes it. “Thank you,” she says turning to the tall policeman whose name that she hasn’t caught yet. “I’m sorry for bumping into you.” She pivots then starts to walk away from him. Her feet move a lot faster than she anticipated. So, fast that she made it to the door and before she could catch her breath.

What the fuck was that? Why did he do that? Noa didn’t wait for his answer as she went to her car. She never checked over her shoulder as she crossed in front of the grill then got inside. Her heart beating fast and harder than usual. She started up the engine taking a deep breath then releasing it. Breathe. It’s okay. It’s okay. A slight knock on the driver’s side window made her damn near jump out of her skin. It was the officer smiling that smile of his. He motioned for her to roll the window down. She does it taking a slow breath trying to calm herself down. That breathing exercise that always worked wasn’t doing so well at the moment.

“You move mighty fast darlin’,” he says with that slight southern twang in her voice. “Not that I minded the view.”
He laughs a bit then says, “But, I was a bit hurt that you left before I caught your name.” Noa paused then said, “Noa…..” She cleared her throat. “My name is Noa. “That’s a beautiful name,” he replies. “I’m Negan by the way.”

“Do I scare you, Noa,” he asks motioning to the way she’s holding on to the steering wheel for dear life. “Yes,” she admits with a waver in her voice.

“Really? I wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Her eyes go straight to his gun. He leans into the window then look down at it as well. “The safety is on so, you don’t have to worry about that,” he replies. Noa look him in his eyes then says, “I’m not a big fan of cops.”

Immediately, she regrets saying it. His face shifts to a solemn look as the smile fades. “Listen,” he says, “darling’ you are not on my radar other than to give you my number. I want to at least show you that I am not a monster. You may change your mind a bit.” “Okay,” Noa says sitting back in her chair. He reaches into his pocket then pulls out a card. It’s stained with a little coffee. He hands it to her with a smile on his face. “Now I need to get your number….” Noa handed him her phone out of curiosity not trusting herself with a pen. She did so more out of curiosity more than fear. How did all this happen? A teensy loss of control more than anything else. He had her unlock the phone before he accepted it from her. One fact that she remembered later on.

The officer handed it back to her and said, “Is it alright if I call you this week?” She nods then says okay. Now he doesn’t call her until, around Wednesday which is fine for Noa. She needed a couple days to calm down. Not that the sight of his name didn’t give her a slight heart palpitation. But, she decided that she needed to research this man. The town was pretty small. Everyone knew everyone so, it was the word already that the new girl was talking to Officer Negan. Also, that she spilt coffee on him. He offered to buy her a new drink then ran off. See this is why she missed the city. Nobody gave a damn about what anyone else was doing unless, it was something illegal. Noa almost dropped her phone picking it up. Her hands are clammy. What the hell is wrong with me, she asks herself then hits the answer button. “Hello,” she answers.

“Noa, this is Officer Negan. Do you remember me?”

“Yes, I spilled coffee on you.”

“I hope you aren’t still worried about that,” he laughs. “It’s been two days.”

“ I’m not usually clumsy,” she reveals.

“I startled you,” he says, “so, that’s my fault. That’s also, why I am calling you.” Noa held the phone closest to her lap. She put him on speaker not only for her own sanity, but also because of how his voice carried. “I wanted to know if you were busy on Saturday afternoon,” he asked. Noa licked her lips then replied that she was free. “Good,” he says, “I want to take you somewhere. If that’s alright with you.” “Its fine,” she says looking down at the phone.

“What time?” “How about one o’clock,” he asks. “Okay,” she says, “I’ll meet you there.” “I was thinking more of me picking you up.” “No, she says, “I would rather drive.” “Fair enough,” he says, “I’ll see you then.” They say good bye to one another and then the call ends. Noa stared down at the phone with a furrow in her brow. How the hell am I going to survive sitting somewhere with Negan without having a panic attack of some sort? She shakes her head then places her hand on her forehead. A feeling of dread washes over her. Noa can cancel. He won’t mind if she does. If he does then she can explain that spending time with anyone in law enforcement is not what she had in mind. By spending time, she means dating. There’s no way in hell that she can date this dude. He looks much older than her. Plus, right now sst wants to focus on herself and not be in a relationship. And then she decides to meet this guy.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10914888
On Location Pt. 1- Change of Pace

Characters: Reader, Single!Jensen Ackles

Pairings: Eventual Reader x Jensen

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1530

Summary: Reader is a teacher and decides to go up to the school over Spring Break to grade finals. Little does she know, Supernatural is filming at the High School. She spots Jensen Ackles in the hall, and so it goes. 

Things to know: This one may be too specific, but I had a dream, and I had to write it. It is going to be a series, but if you guys don’t want more, I may just leave it where it ended.

I do not own the images.


You pulled into the parking lot of the north wing. You sighed in relief as you noticed that none of your colleagues were stupid enough to come to the school on Saturday, but you were the idiot that had assigned an essay for the final. Now you had the duty of grading 150 essays by the end of Spring Break. As you sat at home earlier that morning, you kept hearing a voice in the back of your mind, “Those essays aren’t going to grade themselves Ms. Y/L/N.”

It was about the one hundredth time that you had that thought when you decided you better head up to the school and start sifting through those papers. It was a daunting task that was sure to put a damper on your weekend.

As you got out of your car, you remembered a school wide email that was sent out last minute yesterday about avoiding a certain part of the building this weekend. This thought made you second guess your decision to walk into the building, so you closed the driver’s side door and leaned against your car pulling your phone from your back pocket. You opened up your email and scrolled through.

There it was.

Happy Friday Teachers!

Just a reminder that the main office, fine arts, and south side of the building will be closed this weekend. There will be a group filming in the building, so take your work home with you. Sorry this is coming at the worst time, but you don’t need to be working on the weekend anyway. ;)

You laughed at the thought that your principal thought people would actually take work home as you closed your email and stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

You opened the back door to retrieve your large brown leather teacher bag. You swung it over your shoulder and headed toward the door, rifling through your bag to find your school keys. As you approached the door, your hands grazed the cool metal in your bag. You snagged the keys, quickly waving the key faub over the keypad to get in the door.

The door clicked, and you opened it. You headed down the hall toward your room. Once there, you decided you didn’t want to flood the room with light, so you walked to your desk and turned on the desk lamp that was sitting there. Mood lighting. Perfect, you laughed to yourself.

You connected your phone to your Bluetooth speakers and opened your classic rock playlist. You were going to need something loud to get through these essays. As if an answer to your thoughts, Kansas’ album scrolled into view and you selected it, Carry On My Wayward Son blasting through the speaker.

You settled down and pulled out the first group of papers. You looked at the stack of essays to your left and sighed audibly, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. You were going to be here a while. You may not even be up for two stepping later tonight with the girls if this were to take half as long as you expected.

An hour later, you were ready for a break. You picked up your phone and strolled out of your room and headed for the main office, the email you read earlier having slipped your mind

You rounded the corner and began walking the long stretch of hall lined with windows between the cafeteria and the offices.

You noticed a tall, well built man leaning against the wall, his arms holding him up against the window ledge, looking out the windows. You didn’t recognize him, but there was something about the way that blue t-shirt made his arms look that made you want to reach out and touch them. That ass, damn. Just as your mind was wondering, and you were staring at a complete stranger’s ass without shame, you heard a commotion coming from the Fine Arts Center and you remembered the email.

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The Curve: April

April

Clarke woke to the sound of her phone, vibrating angrily against the wood of the bedside table.  Disoriented and half-asleep, she gazed at the tiny alarm clock next to her, wondering who would have the audacity to call at 3am.  She grabbed the phone, staring at the unfamiliar number and fearing the worst as she swiped the screen.

“Hello?”

There was a dedicated pause, followed by the sound of low, soft chucking.  A moment later Lexa’s voice filled her ear.

“Her unmistakable skill is coupled with a relentless work ethic, and while such remarkable talent could easily make the young phenom cocksure, she possesses an equally remarkable sense of humility.”

The corner of Clarke’s lip pressed agains the cool glass of the phone as she smiled, embarrassed to hear her own words read back to her.

“You read the article, I see.”

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Idk what it is about jal80 and her ability to vaguely reference a headcanon or an AU idea that makes me be all –

– but that’s my fandom lyfe and I’ve accepted it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~HERE WE GO Y'ALL*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dawnlight and the drift of the fog across the ground makes Jon feel like he is trespasser into some mystical realm. Well, this is the realm of the dead, he reminds himself, and readjusts his grip on the leather thong wrapped ‘round his palm. The bag over his shoulder isn’t even to the close to the heaviest burden he’s ever carried, but he can’t ignore its weight as the frosted grass crumples under his boots. He’d overheard Morgan tell Sansa over their kidney pie that, yes, the ground had started to thaw as the last of the Winter snows had melted and started to run towards the White Knife, but it was not yet warm enough to till.

Jon doesn’t need to till for crops though—he has but a single hole to dig.

 

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anonymous asked:

Can you please write Highschool Egobang with Arin as the cool kid and Danny as the shy kid :)

(Ohhh this is a role reversal compared to what I normally see- hell yeah!!)

High school is not as the movies set it up to be. Dan walks into the building and feels like he’s been punked, 21 Jump Street circa 2012 style. He’d come with his leather jacket and over-the-shoulder messenger bag, black, expecting to be admired for his roughness, his black eyeliner, and his meticulously applied apathy– instead he’s in his first period class alone in the back, and up front there is a colorful swarm surrounding the real figurehead of high school coolness: Arin Hanson. 
Dan isn’t mad at Arin, isn’t jealous, just a little bit surprised. He’s not what Dan would’ve penned under ‘cool’ or ‘popular’ back in middle school. He’s got his hair back in this casual ponytail, with several more hair-bands lined up on his wrists, and he’s dressed so casually. Well, perhaps honestly is the word. He’s not trying to fool anybody about the kind of guy he is. A rumpled Sailor Moon shirt, pastel pink, and some worn-out blue jeans mark his daily attire. He can’t tell now from the back, but walking in Dan might’ve caught a hint of mascara or lipgloss on him as well. He’s kind of… beautiful, Dan has to admit. He’s unapologetically whatever he is, and people seem to love him for it. 
And Dan feels like a schmuck for trying to be anything less than himself, suddenly. Maybe if he’d ditched all the black and wore than Zelda shirt Avi had gotten him last Sunday, when they were back to school shopping, he could be up there laughing and cracking jokes with Arin. Maybe he wouldn’t feel this sticky sap of shame and loneliness creeping up over him. 
‘I could always try tomorrow,’ Dan thinks, laying his head down on his desk. ‘But am I being a poser if I stop posing to be myself? If people see me go from this to nerdy tomorrow, they’ll have to think that I’m trying to be some hipster, trying to copy others so I’ll fit in–’
“Hey!” 
Dan looks up. Blinks at what he sees. 
Arin is twisted around in his chair with his arm slung over the back, grinning at him easily. Shy and taken aback, Dan’s cheeks flare, and the kid seems to notice– his grin grows ever wider. 
“Uh… yeah?” 
“You’re new, right? Just transferred here?” 
“Y-Yeah.” 
“You wanna come up here and introduce yourself? C’mon, what’s your name?” 
“Oh… yeah… sure.” So he struggles out of the stupid desk, his long legs trying to trap him to the jail of a seat, and slumps up towards the others. “So… I’m Dan.” 
“Good to meetcha, Dan!” Arin says cheerily, and holds out a hand to him. Dan takes it and his grip is intense; he shakes them up and down firmly, then lets go and fist bumps Dan’s open palm. The crowd around him laughs, and he prays it’s not at him. “Good to meet you, too.” 
“I like your jacket.” 
Dan reddens. “Hah, yeah, well… I moved here from New Jersey, and it’s colder there, so I wasn’t expecting it to be so warm today–” 
“Dude. It’s cool, you don’t have to explain it to me.” 
He smiles at his shoes and nods, feeling like an ansty peasant scrambling to please a benevolent king. The king is already calm and kind, and the harder he tries the more it shows what a lemming he is. 
God, this is embarrassing. 
“Hey,” 
Suddenly his hand is enveloped in warmth– Arin’s bigger one, wrapping it around his skinny fingers and resting his thumb on the palm. He could rub soothing circles onto the skin, if he were so inclined. 
Dan’s head shoots up to look at him like a deer in headlights, the whole of him bristling and burgundy. He feels like he’s being given a gift, some kind of royal courtesy from the king. 
“Y-yeah?” 
Arin smiles up at him warmly, that easy grin showing teeth, now, white and shining. He raises his eyebrow in a silent question –you okay?– but there is a kind of mischief in his eyes that betrays his enjoyment. That he’s enjoying Dan’s skittishness. 
“You wanna sit with me at lunch today? I’ll wait outside your fourth period class and take you from there. The school’s big, so you might have trouble finding the cafeteria, and you look like the type to get lost, anyway.” 
Dan might as well have just heard “you” “me” “lunch” and “today.” 
“Is that cool with you?” 
“Yeah man,” Arin answers, nodding. “If it’s cool with you.” 
Like a small wind, the tiniest gust, Dan agrees in a whisper: “So cool.” 

Expedition

The following takes place right before HTTYD2 in Hiccup’s universe.

@bluesoulfire

Expedition
Almost done. Hiccup just had to get the last few things from his room - his own version of the Book of Dragons, his notebook, and a spare foot - and he would be on his way. Toothless and Puffel, the most docile Gronkle you could imagine, were waiting for him just outside.
  Hic pulled the leather straps tight, swung the final bag over his shoulder, and went for the door…
  … right as Stoick and Gobber came in. He nearly ran into the heavy wood face-first.
  “AH, son! Good you’re here, I need your help. There are some dragons in the pens that are acting up and we have no idea why, could you have a look? But first we need to discuss the feast for Mjalnak’s wedding, that is only a fortnight away. We need to check stocks and see what beer we serve, because we need to save some of the good stuff for Mabon. Nothing but the best ale will do for that. So I thought we could go down to-”
  Higher and higher, the responsibilities were piled on top of Hiccup. And if there was something that made him uncomfortable, it was chiefly-responsibilities. Taming dragons and spreading the art of befriending them? That was Hiccup’s department. Weddings and feasts and stock-keeping? Nope, definitely not. That was still very much his father’s thing.
  “That sounds good, dad, but ehm… I ehm… I have to go now!” He deftly slipped bast the two burly figures, heading straight for Toothless. “I’m going on an expedition to find Toothless a mate, won’t be back for two weeks so ask Astrid and the gang for dragon trouble and don’t worry I’ll be fine okay bye see you!”
  Before Stoick could reply, he was off, Puffel following meekly. The heavy, bearded man was left speechless.
  “He takes after you, don’t he?” Gobber quipped.

@veshkashaw said: Kashleth as neighbors. apartment/offices/business, any kind of building really

Sandwiched between a second-hand bookstore and a perpetually-for-sale clinic, the coffee shop isn’t exactly the hottest piece of real estate, but it’s homey. Plant boxes brimming with brightly colored flowers fill the wide front windows, and the half dozen mismatched tables and chairs crammed into the narrow room feel more cozy than crowded. The counter stretches the length of the room and has a display case filled with a selection of pastries from the bakery three blocks over, and the shop’s menu is scrawled out in flowing script on a handmade chalkboard above the bar.

And, of course, there’s the espresso machine, a hulking and outdated thing by industry standards that Percy lovingly improved in a fit of passion.

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Impasto | Chapter One

Author’s Note: @your-miss-right I thank blame you entirely for this inspiration, as well as this post that started it all. Professor Namjoon, everyone. Not sure how many parts yet. Tagging @jinhyong, @park-jimeme who wish to be so.

Genre: Fluff 

→ two

im·pas·to

imˈpastō,-ˈpästō/

noun

  1. the process or technique of laying on paint or pigment thickly so that it stands out from a surface, to convey high emotion.
  2. a technique of painting unabashedly proud to be textured, existing to show off brush and palette knife marks

Black coffee in one hand and a new leather bag slung over his shoulder, Namjoon’s patent shoes clicked upon the cement pavement as he walked; the blissful autumn morning sun shined upon his skin, basking him in a wonderful warmth. For all intents and purposes, today was beautiful, and nothing could possibly go wrong.

But the nerves that were going haywire inside his brain said otherwise.

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LAX-NRT

Rating: T (there is much drinking)
Length: ~4,800 words
Prompt from algernonblue: Mikasa is on a 14 hr airplane flight from USA to Japan. In first class there is only one other person there (Levi) who happens to be seated only a seat away from her. They stubbornly refuse to be the one who gets up to relocate. Happy Writing!

Thank you all for participating in Rivamika Jam, whether it was writing, just sending a prompt, filling in for someone who had to drop out, or just reading and liking/reblogging the RMJ works. All and all, I think it’s gone pretty well for a first try, and a special thanks to everyone who’s sent messages of encouragement and anticipation. I hope you enjoy all the works that people have done!

00:00 - Half a Xanax, Double Espresso

Mikasa waits at the gate at LAX for two hours, idly sipping from a canned double shot of espresso with milk, before the airline even lets first class board. Her hands shake when she hands her boarding pass over to the attendant to be scanned. She tells herself it’s the caffeine making her jittery, but it could be the fact that this is her first time on an airplane and that on the other side at Narita will be a group of complete strangers waiting excitedly just for her.

When she sits down at her seat, she digs through her battered green canvas backpack for the orange pill bottle that holds the remaining three and a half Xanax that Grisha prescribed her. (“Not too many, Mikasa,” he told her as he handed her the little plastic vial. “This stuff is very addictive.”) She fishes out the half pill with one hooked finger and swallows it with one last tepid mouthful of canned coffee.

Her head is down, trying to locate her bottle of water and her Japanese flash cards when her seatmate arrives. When she looks up she sees a torso - a very nice one, if she is being honest - clad in a simple black suit and a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. He wears an expensive-looking leather messenger bag over one shoulder. The man is small and thin, but the little of him there is looks solid, heavy. He finishes stowing his bag in the overhead compartment, then slams the door closed and sinks down into his seat, placing the messenger bag on his lap. He wears oversized reflective aviator sunglasses marked with a small but noticeable mirrored G logo, and he is scowling.

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Anon prompted: Kids!Klaine (5 years or 6) with Blaine having a cute crush on Kurt <3

(i hope this isn’t too far from what you wanted dear anon ;u; also there’s a small portion of angst but not too much)

At the sound of the school bell ringing Blaine makes sure he’s the last to pack up, hoping the other kids have already run off or hopped onto the School bus before he’s stepping a foot outside. As long as he’s in the classroom, he feels safe.

He carefully puts his pencil case and exercise book away, says goodbye to his teacher, who shoots him a warm and understanding smile and slings his schoolbag over his shoulder.

It’s a brown leather bag, one just like his father is taking to work every day, and Blaine couldn’t be more proud.

Even though the other boys have made it very clear that they don’t like it.

They don’t like it because it doesn’t have starships or robots or dinosaurs on it.

As he’s walking down the now lonely hall, his hand placed protectively over his beloved bag, he notices footsteps behind him.

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Christmas Morning

anonymous asked:

Spencer x reader where they spend christmas together and with his son? Just fluff, opening presents and such :)


I’d fallen in love with a man who loved fiercely, who cared more deeply than anyone I’d ever known, and who had a baby boy, who was only fifteen months old at the time. Carter is three now, and Spencer is still as loving as he ever was. He’d adopted Carter after the baby’s parents were murdered. Spencer just hadn’t been able to handle the idea of him going into the system. He was an unlikely father, but a great one. And, lucky for me, he’d fallen in love with me, too.

“Cwismas!” Carter’s voice awakened me early that morning, racing into our room, his small, bare feet tapping the floor quickly, one right after the other. I felt Spencer stir beside me, both of us awake as Carter bounced on his feel at the end of our bed, still too little to climb up on his own. He saw me sit up and ran to my side of the bed, reaching for me to pick him up. I did, and he wiggled out of my arms and onto the mattress between Spencer and I.

“Cwismas!” he squealed again, and I laughed.

“Yes, Carter, it’s Christmas,” I said.

“Daddy! Cwismas!” Carter said, tugging on Spencer’s hand. Spencer smiled at him.

“I know, buddy,” he said. “It’s Christmas.” Carter smiled brightly, his dark curls a mess, his hazel eyes bright with excitement.

“Presents?” he asked hopefully, looking up at us expectantly. Spencer and I both laughed, neither of us the least bit sleepy anymore.

“Yep,” I said, beginning to draw back the covers to get out of bed. “There are presents for all of us in the living room.” Carter cheered as Spencer reached out, his hand on my shoulder keeping me from moving. He leaned in and kissed me, gently and lovingly.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he mumbled against me. I smiled slightly.

“Merry Christmas, Spence.”

Our tiny, intimate moment was broke as Carter, who’d managed to wiggle his way off of the bed, tugged on my hand. Spencer and I smiled at one another and followed Carter, who was eagerly leading us out to the living room. We got to the kitchen first, where Carter raced to the table and peered over the edge at the plate and cup we left out for Santa last night. The chocolate chip cookies were gone, save for a few crumbs, and the milk glass was empty. Carter looked back at us in delight and wonder.

“Santa was here!” he said.

“He sure was,” I replied. “Want to go see what he left for you?”

“Yes!” Carter squealed, racing off the the living room with Spencer and I right behind him. We both smiled at his sheer joy. He was finally old enough to really enjoy Christmas, and Spencer and I were loving every second of it. We watched as he stopped in the middle of the room, surrounded by presents, turning in a circle to take it all in. I caught Spencer out of the corner of my eye, reaching for a remote to what I knew to be a remote-control truck. Carter was too distracted by the giant teddy bear that I knew had come from Garcia to notice what his dad was doing. I smiled as Spencer pressed the lever forward, and the truck came rolling from the corner of the room, toward Carter. He turned, surprised by the noise, and we watched as his face lit up at the sight. The truck rolled to a stop in front of Carter, a shiny red bow on top of it. I glanced at Spencer, who was smiling tenderly at the sight of his little boy. The little boy who had become more ours than his. I leaned into his side as Carter tore into the first gift, which I knew contained a leather bag much like the one Spencer carried, but kid-friendly. Carter had told me a million times that he wanted to be like Daddy, and when I saw the bag, I couldn’t resist the temptation. Spencer wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.

“Which one do you think is going to be his favorite?” Spencer asked me. I smiled slightly to myself.

“I’m thinking maybe the one that he’s going to get in about seven and a half months,” I replied. Spencer smiled at me and kissed my head.

“That one’s going to be my favorite, too,” he replied. “He’s going to make an incredible big brother.”

“We’re going to make an incredible little family.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he said, as we watched Carter sling the leather bag over his shoulder and offer us a bright, happy smile.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

anonymous prompted: daddy!kink, age difference, professor!kurt, and dirty talk please and thank you

It’s two days into the new school year before Kurt Hummel notices him in his afternoon class.

It was two seconds into the new school year before Blaine Anderson noticed him in his afternoon class.

“Good morning everyone, I’m Professor Hummel, and this is an introductory level course to show choir.” He continues talking, going into the syllabus and explaining the final project, but Blaine’s already turned out.

He’s just staring at him, perched on the side of his desk at the bottom of the hall. In a snap second, Blaine’s become the stereotypical college student with the crush on their prof.

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