corporate buildings

LA freestyling locations

So over the past month I have been on way too many pot dates, but now I know the hotspots to go to for freestyling for different parts of the day.

DOWNTOWN LA- Spears steak house

got there around 7 for dinner on a thursday. They have two bars, once outside right at the entrance and one upstairs in the actual restaurant. The outside bar was boomin! Men in suits everywhere that just got off work. Spears is located next to a lot of corporate buildings in downtown la and everything is walking distance.

WEST HOLLYWOOD- Hyde

Hyde is a restaurant/ club, but people mostly go for clubbing. It is really hard to get a dinner reservation there, starts around 8 o clock. Its mostly closed for business meetings that lead into a celebration for business deals and promo dinners for promoters and the model girls they bring to the club. I went for a friends birthday a few weeks ago and the men are very social so forestalling wasn’t too intimidating. go on a friday night

WEST HOLLYWOOD- YSABEL

This is probably the easiest place to freestyle. YSABEL is a very trendy restaurant/ bar on fairfax. The crowd was 18-25 year old boogie model girls with body suits and skinny jeans & 30-50 year old men in button downs and jeans. Valet provided for foreign cars only. They have this cool lounge area outside right when you walk in and its all fire places and lounge chairs. They also have two bars and everyone is very friendly and outgoing. Basically everyone who was sitting down and having dinner was staring at everyone else at the bars getting there finesse on. Although this is a friendly environment, I do not recommend for amateur freestylers, all the girls at YSABEL are bad bitches that are pregaming before 1OAK or Hyde. Go on a thursday/friday/ saturday night.


I will update this list as I find more hotspots. Happy freestyling!

anonymous asked:

I'd really love it if one of you amazing mods wrote a shrunkyclunks one, or one where Bucky goes against the social norms of being an Alpha to please Steve more. Thanks :D

I hear your shrunkyclunks or nonconventional relationship and raise you shrunkyclunks AND nonconventional relationship. :) - Mod Jay

Bucky Barnes had always been stereotyped, he was big and bulky and alpha, and all of those brought assumptions. Other alphas assumed that he’d want to jostle and compete with them for standing and dominance, omegas and betas assumed that he’d want to be the dominant partner and either treated him accordingly or avoided him altogether. It wasn’t like Bucky couldn’t play the part, playing up his chivalry to show his dates a good time, or using his natural intimidation to get jackasses at the bar to leave other people alone.

But it felt like he was missing something, from his relationships and from his life. It made him feel unsettled or untethered the world. He went through the motions, working his engineering job at Starktech Industries and the occasional date, just vaguely depressed and detached from it all. He really had no idea what he was waiting for until all 6 ft 2 inches of it dropped into his lap.

Literally.

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3

Starrick/Jacob Modren AU

For extraordinary reasons such as needing to eat and pay bills, Jacob Frye decided to apply for a job as assistant,-not secretary, he won’t use that word. Nothing bad with it, but he likes to think that assistant has a better ring to it, even if he will be answering the phone and fetching coffee. Evie rolls her eyes. He ignores her- answering to a job vacant that opened just days ago in Abstergo, the multi-billionaire corporation with big glass buildings and posh businessmen and women. He snorts. Fucking place would pass as a modeling company any day.

What Jacob Frye didn’t expect was to find so few people applying for the job.

Turns out everyone was scared of the boss, Crawford Starrick.

Who looked like a prick with a stick up their arse that had fired four people in the last week.

Repeating to himself he needs the money, think of the money, you don’t even need to like this job god fucking dammit, Jacob manages to pass the week trial. So far so good. He had managed to do better than the others and that had to count as something, right?

His relationship with his boss, though…Well, that’s why we’re here, hmm? It started rocky but it improved as soon as he learnt to have the tea on time - any time, and coffee was a big no-no.- and keep timetables and telephone calls organized. He wouldn’t lie, flirting with that guy at Management -Roth, was it?- helped a lot to secure his position and learn all the little tips he needed to know quickly.

Which brought the attention of Crawford Starrick himself. That, and the fact that he didn’t wear a suit for work like everyone else. (Rich people, everyone. Can you believe them?)

Him seducing his boss wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t his work ethics to flirt with the man when he was doing extra hours at night via taking his reading glasses and smirking at the perplexed but curious cat like look the older man delivered him. It wasn’t his idea of sex to find himself straddling his boss’ lap after getting dumped by his (ex) boyfriend Freddy -“It’s not you, it’s me” being the worst bullshit in the history of mankind- and getting this as some sort of petty revenge.

It wasn’t his idea for it to happen again, or become an almost usual occurrence, or for it to start to mean something. But y'know, shit happens.

And that was the reason he woke up the day of his birthday, almost a year from that stupid stupid job interview to which he arrived five minutes late and almost got kicked out of, to find a barking puppy with a blue ribbon on his bed and Crawford Starrick, all wrinkled clothes and messy mustache, waving his happy exclamations off and saying he needed something to invest his energies on anyways.

It doesn’t matter. Jacob can see the pleased tilt in the corner of his lover-also-boss lips from here anyways.

Story was written by the wonderful @skeptical-free-spirit

To a person I can never let in again,

The way we met was spontaneous. I still tell people about how shaky it was at first and how it came out smoothly. You were far from the people I was used to. I was in a children’s play pen. And you were from corporate buildings and people who margin their essays. Anyway, we were 2 different people. Yet, we share some things in common that created a really strong bond. We were so close. So so close. 

The friendship I offered you was genuine. In fact, I never hated you. Even if I had a perfectly rational reason to. I never had it in me to hate you. But you always saw how I was weaker than you. How I was smaller than you. How I couldn’t lift heavy-weight problems on my shoulders and how I never tried harder than you. You took that I had no pride and that I could cry really really easily. And for that, I started hating you. 

At first, I thought that was just you. You were this strong, independent, and wonderful mind that I could someday be. But you shot me at my weak points. You always did. You took my insecurities, put them in a bag, and sprinkled them all over our conversations. You loved making me feel stupid. You loved putting me lower than my actual place. And what did I do? I offered you a genuine home. While your excuse was that you were too “frank”, too “honest”. Well, that’s not an excuse to be an asshole. 

When I grew a year older from when we met, I slowly slid you off my life. It wasn’t subtle. But it wasn’t harsh either. I knew you were weighing me down. I was finally reaching my point of happiness by myself. But I couldn’t be that way with you calling me from time to time just being a total dick to me and trying to drag me down lower than you. I’m not gonna let you do that to me again. 

You took away my awareness of my own value. I saw so many things in me that I started to dislike because of you. 

So if I see you, I’ll say hi. I’ll tell you about things from my life that you don’t know about. I’ll say things that’ll make you question if I’m still the girl you met or if you could still cut your way through my whole get up now. You can’t. I’m not soft and shy with paper-thin skin where you can slice on anymore. And honestly, I’m not proud of it. I’m not proud of the grudge I keep. But I can’t help it. You were one of the people who wrecked me. And I don’t have to obligation to be your friend again. 

fic: When The Stars Go Blue

title:when the stars go blue

genre: romance/angst/AU

rating: nc-17 

warnings: mentions of alcohol, cigarettes and swearing

word count: 4500

description: Dan’s a failing musician without a song who struggles to make rent every week, so he sits atop his flat block roof every night and stares out at the city wishing for inspiration. Phil is a dreamer who paints and works part time as a barista; he’s bright, wears lavender and is, in other words, everything Dan needs. And one night, he wanders up to the roof, too.

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So lets talk about Lúcio Dva and Junkrat

Everyone seems to talk about how D.va and Lúcio are really famous, and how Junkrat is not.

But… he is. Like… possibly even more famous than either of them? Not everyone will know the name of a popular celebrity, especially if they’re from another country, but someone who clearly threatens public safety, has been traveling the globe to basically cause acts of terror and destruction… just about everyone’s going to know the name of someone like that. Junkrat IS famous. He’s famous, and I’m sure he knows it, and before joining overwatch he probably reveled in it. Everyone knows him, after all! That’s what being popular is, right? That’s what making a mark on the world is, right? He’s been going around, blowing up omnics and corporations and government buildings— all the people that could have lent a hand to his home but didnt— and isn’t that noble? It doesn’t matter if people die, as long as they’re the scum on the bottom of his boot. He wants them to be afraid of him. He wants them to know he’s coming for them next. And it doesn’t matter which country you own, how wide your company’s powers stretch, death will treat you all the same.

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girls fighting evil: the janitor

requested by this anon

(she works the night shift for a cleaning company. they specialize in cleaning for big corporations, big office buildings that are quiet and a little eerie at night. one night, she sees a demon emerge in the building, smoking and hissing. luckily, she has plenty of weapons: mops and brooms, poisonous cleaning materials, and more. what can she say? she cleans up.)

i like to think that capitalism isn’t a thing in the new universe and those giant corporations are just. huge buildings where you can pick up free shit

crockercorp? it’s just where the majority of food is alchemised, you can go in and make whatever you want. there’s free baking lessons every day. if you’re lucky you’ll get a slice of cake baked by Jane herself

skaianet enterprises? just show up whenever you want, dirk and jake will help you build whatever the fuck kind of robot your heart desires. their best creation to date was a to-scale replica of the iron giant, which led to them renting out their huge warehouse space to anyone aspiring to make movies

sometimes jane and jake meet up to boast over their great sales records, which is essentially jane talking about the weirdest flavour combinations and jake listing off how many explosions there have been

Phantom Thief (askfaifluorite + askkurogane)

Tonight I will steal the Midnight Sapphire from its display at the Daidouji Grand Hall at exactly 11 pm sharp.

– Phantom Mage

This was what the thief’s calling card read. It had been sent anonymously to the precinct earlier that day. It was the third card that month.

The “Phantom Mage” had suddenly appeared out of nowhere two months ago, after a twenty year absence. He was a crafty thief who stole priceless jewels from galleries, museums, and even corporate buildings. His reappearance caused quite a stir with the media and general public, but even more so with the police force.

Officers were packed into the room with the glass display case that held the Midnight Sapphire, a large, deep blue gem that was connected to a necklace of black pearls. The man in charge of the tight security for the night was no where to be seen. Everyone figured he was hiding for a chance to catch the Phantom Mage off guard.

She is a living memory of everything he once was—and everything he once had.

5

Inside McLaren: Looking At How The Design Of Its Headquarters Redefines The 21st-Century Workplace

It may already be 11 years old, but the McLaren Technology Centre (MTC) in Woking in southeast England looks like it was built just yesterday. A space-age, futuristic building with snaking suspended bridges and see-through cylindrical elevator shafts, the corporate and production head office of the McLaren Group It may already be 11 years old, but the McLaren Technology Centre (MTC) in Woking in southeast England looks like it was built just yesterday. A space-age, futuristic building with snaking suspended bridges and see-through cylindrical elevator shafts, the corporate and production head office of the McLaren Group. Read more >

Just an old friend

Requested: nah man

Description:  Cal visits his old girl friend after she moved away and he let her go

Word count: 1.2k

He let out his final shaky breath, giving himself a pep talk in his own head. Then he lifted his shaky hand and knocked on the old wooden door to her loft. As he lifted his hand away, he could still see her name inked on his wrist, so perfectly. It was raining outside; giving him some noise to focus on other than his own dark thoughts. The city was dark at night. Who would’ve guessed that about “the city that never sleeps”? Sure, there were taxi cabs and tall corporate buildings with their lights still on to illuminate the city, but there weren’t any people. Especially not (y/n), since he’d gone around into the late hours of the night looking for her. When she left, she didn’t leave behind an address or even an article of clothing. Nothing, nothing at all.

She arrived at the door, hesitant to open it. It was 4 in the morning, and she had previously been warned about the types of people in New York. But, she was never one to be  a coward, so she opened it anyways. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes to become more aware. The sight in front her, scarier than any intruder or gang member knocking on her door. Because it was Calum, Calum Hood. The boyfriend she left behind when she left Sydney. So, she stood with her mouth agape, staring at the beautiful boy in front of her. She couldn’t help but see through her brown orbs, that he was different. And maybe everything seemed different to her now, but he had changed in such short time. His eyes were drooping and lifeless, not the chocolate mess she used to get lost in, his lips quivered, not forming his usual smile. What happened to him? What happened to her? What happened to them?

“C-Calum is that you?” her hoarse sleeping voice breathed out. She cleared her throat, wanting to sound not like she had just woken up from a slumber that only consisted of dreams with him by her side as they take on the world together.

“Yeah, oh god, I missed you,” he whispered. He suddenly engulfed his arms around her, just wanting to feel her body pressed to his again. His shirt was sodden with rain, and he smelt faintly of the New York air, but she didn’t care. She hugged him back. Maybe a little harder and a little longer than she should’ve.

“I missed you…. A lot,” she mumbled into his shoulder. Her hot breath on his body made him writhe under her touch. She still clung to his sopping wet white T-shirt. Fearing, if she let go, he’d disappear like he had time and time again. She’d imagined in her head their reunion a million times, but now her mind was blank.

“I love you,” he accidentally let the words slip off of his tongue. No matter how much love he felt for her, it was wrong. The words made her remember what she should’ve thought about before clinging to him like a lost puppy. She pulled away, shaking her head, and wiping her tear filled eyes.

“You aren’t supposed to say that. You aren’t even supposed to be here,” she whisper yelled harshly. Calum was taken back by her tone. What happened to the hug they shared just seconds ago? What happened to the “I miss you’s”? Why did she suddenly get angry?

Why did she leave?

Well he knew why she left, but he didn’t know why she forced him to stay away. He hadn’t a clue why school in New York while he stayed in Sydney seemed like a good idea to her. They were so in love it was sickening. Then one day, she left. With as much as a note explaining things left on their dresser.

“I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay away from you. You left without telling me anything. How was I supposed to feel?” he shouted back. Thank god the streets were desolate, or it would look like a scene from a cheesy romance movie was being role played on her porch.

“Did you read the note? I asked you to stay away. I meant it, and I still do. You need to go home,” she shook her head violently. How’d he even find her? This city is huge, and he still manages to come to her. This had happened before. This wasn’t the first time she’d run away. This wasn’t the first time he found her.

“(y/n), you know we’ve been through this before. You tell me you want me to leave you alone, but all you really need is for me to keep chasing after you. You want to ensure that I still love you. And every time you come back to me, and then the cycle repeats. When does it end with you?” he massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He made it more than obvious that he was upset and confused. But you had your motives. You didn’t need him to chase you. You wanted to get away.

“It’s different this time, Cal. I have my reasons,” she reasoned, without a lot of detail.

“Tell me! Go on, list your excuses for running away from me five freaking times since we’ve been together,” he sarcastically shouted. Anger was boiling beneath his surface. There was a matter of time before it was too much to handle. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what her crazy mind was thinking every time she ran away to a new place and started a new life.

“Stop. Please, just leave. I’m not coming back this time. I-I can’t,” she whispered under her breath. Tear drops starting to fall down onto her cheeks.

“Baby, who’s at the door?” a deep, sleepy voice asked from behind her. Did she have a boyfriend? Is that why things were “different” this time? Is he holding her back or was he the reason she left in the first place?

“It’s an… old friend. Go back to bed, I’ll be back in a moment. We were almost done here,” she said, so falsely sweet, Calum had wondered how that guy hadn’t caught on. She added a cheesy fake smile, before wishing him a good night.

Calum waited until he was out of ear-shot. “Is he the reason why things are different?” his voice cracked. The thought of her and another man, oh god. It made him sick to his stomach to think his (y/n) was with some one else. She stood there, halfway out the door, looking at the ground as tear drops rolled down her cheeks and splattered on the concrete.

“I told you to go home. You only get hurt when your around me,” she said, her words like daggers and her rage filled eyes burned through him like fire. Then she was gone. With the slam of her front door.

This time was different. He knew she wasn’t coming back. She was now, just an old friend.

3

Ang Pagbibinata ni Joven Hernando-Bernal
(alternately, The Life and Times of Jovito Hernando, Bernal Brother #3)

a fic by
@toniongbuwan/@ipakomokoroman
with @sumbungero/@chinupacoroman
images by @dettsu/@bagyong-goyong
908 words of 10k+ | G | Gen

chapter index: 1, 2


Chapter 2: “I will be the best kuya ever.”


Joven was only a few days shy of being a year old when his parents left him with Consolacion Bernal, his father’s long-time executive assistant, for one day. “We’ll be back to fetch him tonight. Nagpaalam ng umalis ‘yung yaya niya and wala pa kaming nakukuhang kapalit. It’ll just be one gala dinner, and we’ll hurry back.” Alfredo Hernando apologetically said, while his wife, Teresa, kissed the sleeping Joven’s cheek.

They never did. A delivery truck speeding at 140mph on the opposite lane lost its breaks. One of the cars that it mowed down while careening on the highway was the Mercedes Benz that bore Alfredo and Teresa.

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