They had some really nice button up

Ponyboy sat at the bar with his laptop. He was never one for formal social events or, well, social events at all really but for some reason, he felt tonight was a special occasion… Okay, that was a bold faced lie, the venue just so happened to have fast internet and a weak firewall along with a lot of phones connecting themselves to that unprotected WiFi network. So, naturally, he was digging. Not for any particular reason besides his own curiosity, really, but hell, that’s what he did best, and God, these events were so fucking boring.

He had only partially dressed up for the occasion, nice black pants, shiny new belt, and a white button up, three buttons open, and, well, black beat up converse sneakers. He couldn’t be expected to completely clean up his act for one stupid night, that was just unrealistic. So there he was, sat cross-legged on the bar stool, computer on and a list of files that did not belong to him on his system’s screen. People really didn’t think much of their privacy. Even with the semi-recent iCloud leak everyone was still walking around without proper mobile protection. Steve Jobs was bound to be rolling in his grave.

He had a headphone in and was scrolling through someone’s text messages, only half reading the contents, when he felt a presence behind him and immediately tilted his screen down so whoever it was couldn’t see. Instead of turning around to face them, he looked to the bartender. “Can I get a Stella?” He ordered, always pleased with the United Kingdom’s drinking laws, before finally addressing the presence, still not turning to them as he took a sip. “You don’t have to just stand there, you know. You can order whenever you want.”

anonymous asked:

Benwash, 14?

(guys i had a fucking DAY which is why these r late)

Maybe it was the fact that Ben looked so damn nice while he was doing it. Or maybe it was that George really didn’t have too much work to do, sitting at the desk in the office of their shared home, that he didn’t mind so much when Ben purred his name from the doorway.

He was wearing slacks, a white button up, and a blazer all topped off with a loosened tie. He looked like some smarmy schoolboy fresh off his private school grounds, even as he strode forward, ignoring Georges incredulous look.

“Mr. Washington?” He pouted, lifting himself up smoothly to sit on the end of George’s desk, ankles crossed. “I was told to report to you for detention…”

One brow raised, he raked his eyes up and down the length of his boyfriend and, with it all clicking nicely, he let his voice pitch down and his eyes harden. “Mister Tallmadge, I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here. What trouble did you get into now?”

“I was caught with a boy behind the gym.”

George felt his breath still in his lungs. He takes moment, steadiest himself. “And what were you caught doing, young man?”

Ben visibly shivers, but answers, in the sweet sultry voice of his, “How about I show you, Mr Washington?”

ouroborosasunder  asked:

Mint chocolate froyo and strawberry tea?

  • mint choco froyo: 3 things im proud of

Oh boy um

I’m really proud of Aperture Café even though it isn’t finished

I’m proud of this one drawing I did of my best friend from home it’s probably the most realistic piece I’ve ever done

I had to write and compose a song for a class a year ago and it turned out really well and the demo was pretty nice and I’m still proud of it

  • strawberry tea: favourite outfit

Hmm I really like the Lolita coord I have but I never wear it so probably my skeleton tights with my striped skirt and my pink sweater over my white button up. I usually have some bows on and swear sneakers or boots with it. 

Shut Up and Dance with Me - Owen Grady x Reader

A/N: Turn on Shut Up and Dance. And turn it up loud.

Looking in the mirror, you gave your reflection a little fist bump. You’ve never had a better hair day. Perfect timing, too:

The Raptor Squad Summer Block Party was tonight.

Every few months, a division of Jurassic World hosted some sort of “work” party. But really, at that point, no one on the island felt like coworkers. Living on a tiny commercial theme park-ified island in Central America—your friend choices were pretty limited.

So you partied. And that seemed to keep everyone from getting cabin fever.

“Ready?” You answered the knock on your door. Barry and Owen had offered to swing by your bungalow and pick you up.

Owen Grady, you sighed inwardly. He looked good tonight. A nice pair of fitted jeans and a black button down with the sleeves rolled up. It proved to be challenging, but you tried to keep your relationship with him as professional as possible…but—you can’t say you resisted his flirtations.

You smiled as you saw him give your backless dress and your beat up sneakers a once over.

The party was in full swing when arrived. Owen quickly got swept up in conversation, but his hand hardly left the small of your back. You liked when his hands lingered on you. Not quite a promise, but the anticipation was enough to make you dizzy.

He whispered in your ear. “Everyone keeps asking me how smart the raptors are. I don’t want to talk about work anymore.”

“Owen, you always want to talk about the girls.” You countered.

He laughed, not denying your statement. He gave you a look as the DJ started to play one of your favorite songs. Owen took your arm, you think, you don’t know how it happened, and led you to the dance floor. “Shut up and dance with me.” He said, spinning you with your arm high above your head.

Tonight, it seemed everyone was helpless to the bass and the fading light. Coworkers would rotate through, dancing and signing, drinking and laughing. Owen, not surprisingly, was an excellent dancer. The right amount of touching, hands on hips, and always kept you laughing with some new made up move of his.

Barry had gone off to fetch a round of tequila shots, but he had been gone a while. You looked around the room for him–but Owen turned you back around so you were looking straight at him.

“You’re holding back.” He said over the music, while spinning you once again. You laughed. "Keep your eyes on me.” He said, pulling you closer.

You were holding back a bit. It felt like every pair of eyes were on the two of you. And often, they were. Owen was one of your best friends on the island. Everyone thought you were bound to get together, as if it was an eventuality.

It made you self-conscious–your actions being scrutinized and judged. But it wasn’t worth missing out on an opportunity to explore what you had with Owen. It was chemical. Physical. It was your kryptonite.

So, you let yourself become a victim of the night. And when he looked deep into your eyes, it was as if he was seeing his destiny, his future. Which was infatuating and infuriating. You felt it in your chest as he looked at you. 

You knew then. You were bound to be together. He kissed you. Right there on the dance floor. A deep kiss. One hand cupped around your face, the other on your back. You answered his kiss, throwing your arms around his neck like you had imagined doing so, so many times. 

Someone cleared their throat loudly. Barry had finally come back with those tequila shots. “What did I miss?” He laughed cheerfully, passing on a shot to you, and clapping Owen on the back.

“Cheers!” Barry toasted, and you smirked at the bashful smile Owen wore across his face as you downed the shots.

Later, the two of you had found a blanket and a campfire. You cuddled together, the blanket around both of you while you leaned into his chest, sitting between his legs. His arms wrapped around your waist. He’d kiss your temple, breathing in the scent of your hair, and gently rocking you back and forth.

“Why tonight, Owen?” You asked. You had been alone together countless of times, and he never made his move.

“I realized, this might be my last chance.” You tilted your head at his answer. He kissed you again. “You never know what tomorrow holds. The raptors could turn on us all.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled as you turned kissed him, and pulled him to his feet. “Shut up and dance with me.”

so, the elevators in my apartment building are really nice- there’s three of them, and it seems like whenever i walk into the building, one of them is already on the first floor, open and waiting to take me up. it’s really convenient- i initially assumed they had some clever scheduling algorithm where there’s always assumed to be a call from the first floor

but then yesterday i walk up to the elevators, none of which are open, and one of them opens as i walk up to it, before i even press the button. so i step in and quip out loud “the heck? since when are the elevators psychic?”

and then in response, i hear uncontrollable tinny robotic giggling from the elevator’s speaker

so, uh

i guess my apartment building has living elevators! that’s the only explanation! i’m spooked, all right!!!

First Dates

Dimitri was still in a bit of shock. He was actually going on a date with her. It hadn’t really left his mind since she had said yes. And when he left the bakery to his one worker he panicked a bit. What if the date was a failure…what if he dressed wrong? God, it was all so hard. It might be wrong, no matter what he did. After some long consideration, he went with a button up with the sleeves rolled up. He looked nice, but not like he tried too hard or anything. 

And then he went to restaurant. It was a nice place that was pretty inexpensive, but also not bad in quality or in price. So he figured so that it would be nice, a perfect place to have a first date. It was around 6:42 when he walked in the door. Not that early. Just perfect.