worn blue

modern myth figures
  • fairies: pale pink bubblegum, diamond-studded tiaras, selfies always on point, screeching along to the radio, twirling around in a new dress, cheesecake, pastel orange sunrises, sunflowers, oversized sunglasses, sparkly lip gloss.
  • sirens: singing in the shower, classical music, seashell necklaces, waking up late, reading on the porch, lazy summer afternoons, sandy fingers, too much eyeliner, worn flip flops, dark blue, walking around barefoot, warm bubble baths.
  • nymphs: collecting violet wildflowers, stardusted nights, wineglasses, laughter like bells, planting seeds in a garden, long shadows, running faster than the wind, moonlight glinting off silver necklaces, fireflies, plum-colored lipstick, weaving flower crowns.

Someone once asked me, if Judy’s uniform is a form of discrimination, just because she’s a small bunny, she needed more protection.

Well, no.

Chief Bogo seems to give a lot of leeway on his officers’ clothing.

In this single frame, we see:

  • ZPD “Blue” Uniform worn by many
  • ZPD Short-Sleeve Uniform worn by Bogo himself
  • ZPD Tees worn by the wolves
  • ZPD Armored / Field Uniform worn by Judy and Rhinowitz

Yes, Judy’s & Rhinowitz’s uniforms are very similar, even down to the Neoprene underclothing with knee protectors.

And, later on, Nick introduced yet another uniform variation: “Blue” Uniform with rolled-up sleeve:

These mammals in the bullpen, they are ZPD’s Finest, handpicked by Chief Bogo himself (except Judy, in the beginning). Bogo’s Pack.

They’ve earned themselves the privilege of dressing any which way with ZPD Uniform.

Hi my name is Neil Josten and I have short dark hair (that’s how I got away with identity fraud) and brown eyes like regular people and a lot of people tell me I look like my father (AN: if u know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Kevin Day but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a mob kid but my dad’s friends are out to get me. I have pale white skin. I’m also an exy player, and I go to a university called Palmetto State in South Carolina where I’m in the first year (I’m eighteen but pretending to be nineteen). I’m undercover (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly second hand clothes. I love the thrift store and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a worn blue tshirt with baggy jeans, socks and old sneakers. I had on brown hair dye, brown contacts, and an air of discontent. I was walking outside the court. Riko Moriyama stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him.

Thank goodness its friday! No more school for the weekend for this cute school girl.

School Uniform Dress Code:
White short-sleeved oxford shirt. 
(Shirt MUST be tucked in and the top button must be buttoned at ALL TIMES), 
Appropriate Tie in school colors,
Black non-pleated skirt
(Skirt must be 2 inches above the knee when kneeling or standing), 
Black belt must be worn with skirt, 
Navy blue blazer with school sigil,
Black ballet flats shoes
(If socks are to be worn, they must be no show type socks)

Sometimes Rain Falls

A BTS Fanfiction

Type: AU/Alternative Universe

Summary: Sometimes a normal life is a good one to lead; its nice…its easy…
But sometimes, normal isn’t the way that things were meant to be. And when you’re chosen as a possible candidate for one of the kingdom’s 7 princes, life isn’t as nice and easy as you always presumed it to be…especially when you catch the eye of more than one of them…

A/N: Shit starts to go down… (also, sorry for the late upload, shits going down everywhere today it seems.)



Part 5

He’d had you practicing the dances for that evening for a good two hours before you ask him if you could finish, your feet feeling worn black and blue as you take a seat. Although, it wasn’t like you hadn’t had breaks throughout him helping you learn the dance, especially after your moment earlier, that had meant each time you’d paused to ask him a question he’d look at you in the same overly affectionate way he had before the two of you had broken apart from your kiss, and your words would become stuck in your throat before you’d begin practicing again.

‘I suppose I should let you begin to get ready.’ He muses as he makes his way back over to you, a knowing smile on his face that had been present for the entirety of your dance lesson, and which at that moment was smothered in the slightest hint of lust.

‘Will you meet me at the party?’ you ask, looking up at him from your seat as he comes to a stop in front of you, and watching him as he picks your hand up from your lap to steady it intently with a smile.

‘Is that what you want?’ he asks quietly, glancing up at you and holding your gaze as he waits for your answer that ends up coming out breathlessly.


‘Then of course I will….although you didn’t really have a choice anyway. I intend to spend all evening with you.’ He says smirking as he pulls you to your feet, and you end up pulled tightly into his body as his arms circle your waist, his tempting grin filling up your vision.

‘Why do I feel like you’re more dangerous than you make out to be?’ you ask playfully, catching the flash of knowing darkness that flickers across his expression before he smiles at you, bringing his lips as close as he can get them to yours without touching, and smiling before he answers you.

‘Because I am.’

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Imnotheremovie In appreciation of 1st 1,000 followers we’ll be giving away this blue shirt worn by Sebastian in the movie @Imnotheremovie Details to follow

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She’s so different, now that she’s out of love with you. She laughs and she smiles at things that make her deliriously happy without fearing your judgement. She converses with everyone, about things she enjoys talking about instead of observing. She forgot about the burden of dodging your mood swings and hidden insults. I think her eye colour changed. It’s so warm now, the icy blue and worn out colour has left her eyes, she’s adorned with this fierce grin that makes me nervous to ever meet her bad side.

She may have been crushed upon losing you, but look at her now. It makes me wonder how she ever survived the battle ground that was loving you. She may have a couple of scars and a stitched up heart but I’ve never met a woman so determined to live her life for herself.

—  I wonder how many days it’s been, s.e.s
Jace threw himself down next to his parabatai. “I’ve heard that if you stare at those things enough, they’ll ring.”
“He’s been texting Magnus,” said Isabelle, glancing over with a disapproving look.
“I haven’t,” Alec said automatically.
“Yes, you have,” said Jace, craning to look over Alec’s shoulder. “And calling. I can see your outgoing calls.”
“It’s his birthday,” Alec said, flipping the phone shut. He looked smaller these days, almost skinny in his worn blue pullover, holes at the elbows, his lips bitten and chapped. Clary’s heart went out to him. He’d spent the first week after Magnus had broken up with him in a sort of daze of sadness and disbelief. None of them could really believe it. She’d always thought Magnus loved Alec, really loved him; clearly Alec had thought so too. “I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t—to think that I forgot.”
“You’re pining,” said Jace.
Alec shrugged. “Look who’s talking. ‘Oh, I love her. Oh, she’s my sister. Oh why, why, why—’ ”
—  City of Heavenly Fire

“It’s fine.”

Dex is prepared to spring away, to move to another seat, to fly to the surface of the Sun. He’s awake all at once, electric with embarrassment. Nursey’s words stop him, It’s fine, soft and calm. As chill as Derek always is.

Dex has to say something. He has to show Nursey that he’s chill too, that he doesn’t care. He tries for a light-hearted tone. “Sorry, man. Did I drool on you?”

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Chptr 17 - Pathway to Violence - Prom
  • Chptr 17 - Pathway to Violence - Prom
  • Sue Klebold
  • A Mother's Reckoning

Saturday, April 17, 1999   6:00 pm

We’d spent that year begging Dylan to get a haircut, to no avail, but I convinced him to tie his hair back into a ponytail with one of my own elastics for the prom. He put his prescription glasses in his pocket and donned a pair of small-framed sunglasses. We thought he looked
very handsome.

Alison, our renter, came over and offered to take a picture of the three of us. In the picture, Dylan is clowning around, hamming it up like a professional model, Zoolander-style. The sharp lines of his formal wear stand in stark contrast to the faded flannel shirts and worn blue jeans Tom and I are wearing. He kept his sunglasses on as he posed with us; he wore dark glasses often during the last weeks of his life. I believe now he was hiding behind them.

Tom had remembered to charge the batteries on our video camera, and he filmed Dylan briefly before Robyn arrived. The conversation between them is stilted; clearly, neither of them is comfortable on camera. But we have looked back on this pre-prom video many times, and shown it to others. It is absolutely stunning how normal Dylan seems.

He and Tom talk lazily about baseball; Dylan mimes his hero, Randy Johnson, pitching in an ill-fitting tuxedo. Tom makes some comment about growing up, and Dylan remarks he’ll never have kids. Tom says he may change his mind, and Dylan says, “I know. I know. Someday I’ll look back at this and say, ‘What was I thinking?!!’ ” It is breathtakingly prophetic. When Tom persists in filming over Dylan’s protests, Dylan pinches small handfuls of snow from a nearby bush, lobbing the miniature snowballs playfully at Tom until the camera stops running. The fondness between them is palpable. It breaks my heart.

Robyn arrived in good time, looking lovely in a deep blue-purple dress. Tom taped Dylan presenting her with her corsage, and smiling down at her as she struggled to pin a rose to his lapel. I made paparazzi jokes and asked them to move so I could get a picture without parked cars in the background. Since Dylan had assured us he and Robyn were just friends, I was a little surprised—and frankly tickled—to see him put his arm around her.

In the last few frames on the tape Tom shot, the two of them smile into the camera. Then, self consciously but sweetly, they both begin to laugh.