still not as cool as that one in the city

Help?

So I’m looking at two different (long) stories I could write at the moment and I’m having trouble deciding which one to start with. (Or if I should try to do both of them at the same time.)

The first one is a Coffee Shop/Private Investigator AU called “Keep Holding On” where Alex is a PI working out of Kara’s coffee shop investigating a string of disappearances surrounding aliens in National City and she ends up working with Maggie (who’s still NCPD) to try to track them down. This one has a cool SuperCorp sub plot and features MonWinn as well. Also has a couple OC’s (Maggie’s partner at work and an alien employee of Kara’s who both have pretty big roles.)

The second on is a three book Hogwarts/Soulmate AU with the series title being “My Life, My Love, My Choice” (Which are the names of the three parts.) This one has Lex and Lillian Luthor as a recently outed pair of dark lords, leaving Lena living with the Danvers during the summer before there fifth year.
Maggie’s an American witch who just moved to England, unknowingly helping set into motion an ancient prophecy that could destroy the wizarding world for good. This story has a lot more SuperCorp than the first one (which is saying something) partly because the Lex/Lillian storyline is SUPER important. (And partly because SuperCorp is adorable.)

2

Ruby: We’re actually going to a red carpet movie premier in Empire City on Christmas!

Sapphire: We were extended an invitation because of my music career and Ruby’s fame in prize fighting.

Ruby: Sapphy’s album is still topping the charts! And Garnet here is our plus one for the show~

Lardo low-key starts designing goalie masks for NHL players.

It starts kinda accidentally with Snowy. The SMH crew goes to visit Jack in Providence one weekend. They take in a game and then hang out afterwards with some of the Falconers.

At some point, Chowder is excitedly telling Jack about his new mask that Lardo designed for him and how sawesome it is (even if it still only has one shark) and Snowy overhears. Snowy needs a new mask and has been looking for something different (there’s only so much you can do with a Falcon and a small city like Providence). He convinces Lardo to sketch something for him really quick and she comes up with something really cool and unique. Snowy sends it off to his usual guy and starts wearing the new mask as soon as it’s ready.

People start noticing his new look and ask him about it. The style is a bit different but really amazing and unlike what he used to wear. He only says a friend designed it for him because he knows Lardo doesn’t really want to design goalie masks for lots of people. She is still in school and needs to focus on that. She only did his as a one time thing while they were talking that time.

Lardo ends up randomly designing a couple more for Snowy that are just as cool and a few other goalies eventually find out who designed the masks and get Lardo to do one or two for them.

It’s never a full fledged career for her, just another facet of her art and something she grows to enjoy doing for various NHL goalies when the mood strikes her. But very few people ever know it’s Lardo who designs the masks.

As regards to class, astrology for long was considered royal science or art; kings of Babylon and Assyria, the emperors of Rome, popes in the Middle Ages, and the great ducal families in Renaissance Italy. No upper class family would allow any one of its members to be cremated until the astrologers examined his natal chart and fixed a day for cremation according to planets or signs. In China, where astrologers ranked very highly, the great Venetian traveler Marco Polo found them still very powerful in the 13th century. He recounts that in the great city of Kanbalu there were about 5000 astrologers provided for by the emperor.
—  Louis McNeice
A loaded gun

In response to @clintbartonsdog‘s post “Lena finds out Kara is Supergirl when they are out walking downtown and someone tries to shoot Lena and Kara dives in front of her and the bullet just…bounces into the gutter.”

Sorry in advance, this got a bit angsty/smutty.

Kara and Lena hadn’t been together long. Sure, it’d been over two months, and the two had had more dates and movie nights than either cared to count, but Kara hadn’t even introduced Lena to her mother yet, let alone divulged her secret.

It was one of those famous National City evenings - pleasantly cool, the sun just barely still visible behind the city’s iconic skyline - when the two were out for yet another stroll in the park, a part of what had become the couple’s weekly routine. The park itself was mostly empty, allowing them a few much-needed moments of quiet after days packed full of irritating businessmen and Snapper’s harsh remarks.

A comfortable silence had fallen between them while they walked, their hands linked and swinging slightly with each stride. Lena looked over at Kara and smiled to herself. The past two months had been some of the best of her life; for what felt like (and may have been) the first time, she had someone who cared about her selflessly, someone with whom she could afford to take moments like this to just… be.

It took a moment for Kara to notice that Lena’s eyes were no longer on their surroundings. She turned beaming to her girlfriend, watched her smile grow to take up residence in the almost-nonexistent lines beside her beautiful green eyes, a smile that Kara had learned was reserved for her. She heard her Lena’s heart flutter in her chest before it settled back down.

“Kara, I hope you know how special you are to me,” she said, her eyes growing misty at the corners. “You’re so passionate, and smart, and by god you have such a beautiful heart and I just-”

“Shh…” Kara held up a hand, a look of concentration and concern on her face as she looked away from Lena.

“I’m sorry,” Lena started, “did I overstep or-”

Kara shook her head, still pensive, before her head whipped around to their other side, looking worried. Lena turned to see where it was the blonde was looking when suddenly the glint of metal shone from behind a group of bushes, and it all clicked into place.

It all happened so quickly. As the gun cocked, Lena pushed Kara behind her, a terrified “Kara, I’m sorry,” on her lips as the shot rang out, and then -

Clink

She didn’t remember Kara stepping in front of her, nor did she register the gunman disappearing as soon as he had appeared. All she noticed was the fact that she wasn’t, well, dead and the harmless tinkling of the bullet as it rolled across the sidewalk and into a nearby gutter.

Her first thought was Kara, and she immediately rushed around to her front to see…nothing. Lena’s hands traced Kara’s torso looking for something, anything, but there was no blood, no bullet hole, not a trace of what probably would’ve cost anyone else their life. She did, however, feel the dulled ridges of embroidery beneath Kara’s button-down, the friction of fabric on fabric, the outline of a symbol over Kara’s chest.

Lena’s hands fell to Kara’s arms as she pulled back to look at the reporter’s face, now bright red and panicky for a completely different reason than before.

“Kara,” Lena said, one eyebrow tweaking upward at the corner, “take me home.”

Ten minutes later, they step out of the elevator and into Lena’s penthouse apartment, the cold tile clicking with each fall of Lena’s heels. They make their way to the kitchen, to the marble island on which Lena sets down her bag as Kara stands beside her, nervously wringing her hands together and tugging on the sleeves of her cardigan.

“Lena, I-I c-can explain…” she starts, but is soon cut off by Lena’s hands on her hips, pinning her with her back to the island as she leaned in, lips just brushing Kara’s ear.

“You know, we would’ve gotten here a lot faster if you’d flown.”

Kara shudders and stammers before Lena’s red-painted lips are on hers, hungry and demanding and desperate while her hands push the cardigan from Kara’s shoulders and deftly unbuttons the blonde’s baby blue button-down. She growls against her girlfriend as her fingers find sturdy blue material beneath.

Clothes - suits included - are torn from their bodies and thrown about haphazardly as they make their way to Lena’s bedroom, collapsing on the bed in a tangle of limbs and lips and teeth and shaky breaths. Lena situates herself on top of Kara and kisses and licks and bites at every inch of skin she can find because she’s alive and Kara is Supergirl and Kara is gasping and moaning because of her fingers, because of her tongue, and by god she swears she knows what flying feels like.

And when Kara emerges from the bedroom the next morning to find a messy-haired, post-sex-glowing Lena in the kitchen wearing her suit like an oversized t-shirt she just about melts because nothing has ever felt this right.

They don’t talk about it until later, huddled on the couch under a crimson-red blanket while watching some ridiculous cooking competition on Food Network; when they do, it’s an apology and a thank-you and they’re crying because they realize that they were both ready and willing to quite literally die for one another when the time came.

Lena keeps one hand on Kara’s chest, over where the bullet would’ve pierced her skin, because “I was so afraid that I had lost you.”

And when Kara pulls Lena to her chest and presses a kiss into raven hair with a whispered “don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” they both know that she means it.

Know You // Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: Spencer Reid coming out as bisexual to his best friend, Y/N.

Requested by: the lovely @aboynamedgube

A/N: No romance in this one, just good ol’ friendship.


A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you. - Elbert Hubbard


It was Saturday morning and the day had started off well. The weather was pleasant, the sun shining enough to provide a comforting warmth and the breeze cool to keep everyone from overheating. You’d grabbed coffee with Spencer at your preferred coffee shop before dragging him across the city in search of a dress to wear to a family member’s wedding that weekend. You’d already stopped by many shops and were unable to find something that pleased you, but Spencer was being a good friend about it. He simply smiled and gave honest opinions for the most part, telling you when something looked off or wasn’t particularly his favorite.

“How do I look Spence?” you asked as you walked out of the boutique’s dressing room in a fairly simple blush dress. It flowed in a soft way, draped expertly to accentuate every curve of your body. You came to a stop in front of the mirror and twirled around, examining how it fit on you.

“Spence?” you asked again as you realized you had gotten no response from your best friend. You turned your attention towards him, noting that he was seated on the small sofa you had left him at but his head was turned elsewhere. You followed his gaze and finally landed on the cute male cashier who was currently ringing up a few customers.

Spencer had been staring at the young man the entire time you had been attempting to zip up your dress in the fitting room. The man was handsome with light brown curls and green eyes that seemed to light up the room. It was quickly made obvious that he was the favored employee by the way customers flocked to him when he was on the floor, asking for help in their own clothing decisions.

"Spencer,” you called out again, this time successfully grabbing his attention. His head whipped towards you as a small blush spread throughout his cheeks at being caught staring.

"You look great,” he quickly said with a smile.

"You said that about the last three dresses,” you replied through narrowed eyes. He sighed and nodded, knowing well that you were right. "Spence, if there’s something on your mind we can talk about it.”

Spencer remained quiet for a moment as he looked at you. There you stood, his beautiful best friend who not once ever judged him for any of his quirks. Who was always by his side. You were someone he loved dearly, and there was no one who he trusted more.

"Okay,” he sighed softly as he motioned for you to take a seat beside him. You sat down and watched as he took deep breaths as he collected his thoughts. You could tell he was nervous by the way his eyes were glued to the floor, his eyebrows knit together as he struggled to piece together words.

"Spencer, this is me. You can tell me anything,” you assured as your hand reached out to hold his. A small smile broke across his face at the simple yet immense gesture. His body relaxed.

"I know that,” he replied with a grin. His hand tightened around yours as he gulped nervously. “I’m…I’m bisexual, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise before a broad smile flashed across your features. This wasn’t exactly out of the blue. You had always had your suspicions with his subtle stares at attractive men, but could never bring yourself to ask. You always figured he would tell you whenever the time was right.

"When did you know?” you asked, unable to mask the excitement in your voice. Spencer smiled at your reaction. He wondered why he had even been nervous in the first place when he knew that you would never take it in a negative manner. Instead you were bouncing in your seat wanting to know everything.

"Morgan. When I first joined the BAU I had a slight crush on him,” he admitted sheepishly. “That eventually turned into a more brotherly love, but I realized the attraction to other men still remained.”

It was true. He’d held a crush on his friend since his first days as a BAU agent. He was sure Morgan knew although he’d never mentioned it- a fact Spencer was now grateful for.

"That’s great,” you replied as you threw your arms around him in a warm embrace. “This is so great and I’m so happy you told me. I love you so much, okay?”

Spencer relaxed as his own arms wrapped around you tightly, feeling weight lifted off of his shoulders at finally voicing aloud something he had kept hidden.

"I love you too,” he replied sincerely. He’d always adored you, and having you be so accepting only made him love you even more. He buried his face into your hair, the smell of your shampoo ever so comforting, and smiled.

YES GOOD GREG.

NOW PLEASE BUY A FUCKING HOUSE.

SO YOU CAN LIVE.

In the car salesman industry, “used” is just a codeword to get to the really good cars.

Also this one looks pretty old, I doubt they still make them new.

Uh….

Am I the only one that sees that face as Garnet without hair?

Considering we get fashion about ten years after it’s cool that era Greg is describing happened while I was a teenager.

Oh boy was that not a good time.

“What a time to be alive.”

Wow, fucking savage Connie.

8

Fenway Park, A.K.A. Diamond City. Not surprisingly, no one was there to let Piper in. Maybe if the survivor had been around, we’d have been able to trick Danny into letting us in … sadly, no dice :(

// Really, now that Zaun and Piltover are one city , I pity the country that tries to invade them.

With the exception of maybe Shurima that has literal demi-gods walking around , every other city would get their ass handed to them.

Even If we ignore the fact that they have guns and artillery when others are still fighting with sticks, the combination of Champions that would probably band together to protect their stuff is DEVASTATING.

Darius is very cool and all, but if she is up against Camille and Warwick he is fucked.

And really, all they have to do is convience Jinx that shooting the other army is fun to already outgun everyone.

“BUT THEY HAVE MAGIC AND STUFF”

Yeah, Lux , Leblanc and Swain might be tough shit, but if everyone else gets fucked sideways because they tried to fight a literal Cyborg with a laser beam with bows and arrows, it doesn’t matter , they will lose

bangs pots together - college verse, college verse, college verse!!

tbh, tendou will enjoy college life to its fullest. plans to study in tokyo, though, tokyo wasn’t his only option. he considered kyoto as well as tohoku university ( cause so he could stay close to his mom and grandparents, bless his grandparents, he loves his cute grandma ) but studying in tokyo, a big city, experiencing the busy life there, maybe making sufficient contacts for his later job life plus being able to spend more time with kuguri were the convincing pros for choosing this city.

will totally take hitokage with him, start smoking ( primarily as stress relief, quickly shifts into a habit, and it makes him look cool, doesn’t it ). tokyo party life beware of this social bouncing ball, he wants to enjoy all the fun tokyo can offer him. still a manga nerd, akihabara will become one of his most favorite spots in tokyo. he might cut his hair into a side undercut. a typical college student yet tho he will put effort into his studies. he doesn’t wanna fuck up his career, yknow. yet he can’t get rid of his lax trait. learns how to cook better, or he just masters the art of creating new dishes out of the rice and leftovers. just as eccentric as ever. help him though, he’s probably surrounded by cute girls, he’ll develop crushes again. he hoped he could tame his heart. tokyo city hoe confirmed.

7

Pintura & Co.

Elsewhere:Facebook Page - Pintura & Co.
Instagram Account - @pintura.co
Twitter - @pinturaCo


Hello guys! Just want to share my Galaxy themed design & some portraits, these bags were released last December 2016 in The Craft Central, Greenbelt 5, Makati City. It’s a one design per bag only; everything is carefully hand-painted.

We’re currently inactive on posting pictures on our social media accounts because we are busy planning some new cool stuff for you guys. Anyway, we still reply asap on fb chat or ig direct messages so don’t hesitate to inquire or order. Thank you!!!!

right now i’m thinking about how vegeta like blew up a whole city only to reform years later, but still live on earth the whole time, and earth can’t like bring him to jail or anything because there’s like only one person strong enough to kick his ass and he’s the goofus who wears orange gis 24/7 and says “oh, yeah, he’s cool now, don’t sweat it”. vegeta walks into a 7-11 and buys beef jerky and sprite and the guy behind the counter just focusing on how the entire planet was afraid of him like 10 years ago. weirdass alien with laserblasts trying to kill ‘em all buying shitty beef jerky in his shitty 7-11. nothing earth can do about it

The only thing I did today was half an hour of yoga. It’s crazy how quickly my flexibility is improving though.

If I’m honest I did nothing today because I had a bit to drink last night so I’ve been really tired but the gig was AMAZING and now I need someone to come with me to the actual Guns N Roses concert in February. Like, I’m still so hyped from it and the main singer nailed Axl Rose and Paradise City sure knows how to ignite the masses.

It was also really cool to see one of my oldest friends be the lead singer and guitarist during Metallica’s Black Album and do such a good job that a a bunch of people came up to him after the show to congratulate him.

All right, taking a chance with the tags here.

I’m looking through the tag and mostly seeing folks talking about the Dorothy and Lucas and the witches… but does anyone here care about Jack? Any Jack fans? He was my favorite character from the books and he’s one of the only reasons I’m watching this (alongside Tip and Mombi, who are both looking really cool so far).

I’m hoping Jack will still be the sweet cinnamon roll he was in the books (even if he’s not of the pumpkin-spice variety in this version, eheheh okay that was a bad joke), but I’m not sure I trust a mainstream show to keep him that way…

also I am not the only one who absolutely does not want romance between Tip and Jack, right? …RIGHT??? o____@

Everyone is freaking out about Mario Odyssey and being like “AH Mario is in a real world environment, Sonic ‘06 joke!” But did they miss the multiple other areas with cartoony designs and enemies? Yes, there is one real world inspired environment, but even then it doesn’t look like it’s trying to be photorealistic New York, it’s still incredibly vibrant. Even the people have a minor splash of stylized simplification. I get it, it’s funny to see Mario run around a city block, but it’s all anyone is talking about, I’m way more interested in the cool jungle, or the desert, or the polygonal fruit land, or the Day of the Dead land.

Confessions

Pairing: Peter Parker/Reader

Word Count: 1,780 


Synopsis: You’re enjoying your quiet Friday night when your best friend Peter Parker knocks on your window. You later find out that he’s Spider-Man. 

Warnings: Mild language and mentions of injuries.


Author’s Note: Hello! I’ve never posted any sort of fanfiction before, so I apologize in advance for how bad this is. I just figured it would be cool to contribute to some of the awesome Peter Parker imagines I’ve been reading lately. This is nothing compared to anything that I’ve read, but I still thought it would be a fun thing to try regardless! Hopefully somebody out there finds this and enjoys it :) 



It was a rainy Friday night in New York City, and you were insanely happy about it. Rainy nights were your favorite thing in the entire world, and the fact that it was the weekend made it one hundred percent more enjoyable. You sat at your bedroom window and stared out at the wet pavement, the city lights blurring as the rain streaked the glass. You pulled your sleeves down to cover your hands and pulled your blanket tighter, perfectly content and comfortable. You sat there for a while staring at the city scene until you yawned loudly, realizing all at once how tired you were. You got up and closed your blinds, making your way to your bed. You pulled the covers over your body and closed your eyes when you heard a knock. You sat up quickly, suddenly wide awake. Where was that coming from? You looked around with wide eyes until you heard the knock again and realized that it was coming from your window. Who would be at your window in the middle of the night? And furthermore, how? Your family’s apartment was on the fifth story. You tiptoed over to the window and carefully peeked through the blinds. At first you couldn’t make out who it was, but you could definitely see that it was the silhouette of a person. You jumped back and let out a yelp, then covered your mouth quickly. But it was too late. Whoever it was, they knew you were in there.


“Who- who’s there?” You stuttered nervously. “I’m going to call the police.”


“Don’t!” The mysterious voice shouted through the loud rain. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s Peter!”


You should have been comforted by this, but instead it made you feel even more terrified. You tugged on your clothes and ran to your mirror.


“One second!” You hissed back as you smoothed out your hair and shoved your panda slippers into the closet.


“I don’t want to be pushy, but could you hurry up? It’s a little wet out here.”


You rolled your eyes and walked back to the window, tugging the blinds open in one swift move of your arm and throwing the window open. You glared at Peter as he stared at you with the same face a puppy would give you if it was left outside in the rain.


“Then why are you outside my window at midnight in the middle of a storm? How did you even get up here?”


“Uh…” Peter stalled, looking down at the empty street below. “Fire escape?”


You squinted at him in the darkness. You both knew that the fire escape was unusable. It had been damaged long before your family had even moved into the apartment. It wasn’t the safest thing, but there were worse off apartments. You decided you would let him get away with his lying this one time since he was drenched and clearly miserable. Peter had been lying a lot to you lately, and it was starting to get on your nerves.


“Fine,” you muttered and stepped out of the way. “You can come in.”


He grinned and climbed through the small opening, sighing loudly as soon as his shoes met the floor.


“Thank you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about this, I just-”


You held up a hand to silence him.


“Save the excuses, Parker. We both know it’s going to be a lie anyways.”


You brushed past him coldly and shut the window with a loud slam. You suddenly realized how dark it was in your small room and turned on your lights. Peter squinted and covered his face as soon as your fingers touched the switch. You could see a nasty purple color hidden beneath his fingers.


“Peter! What the hell happened to you?” You gasped. You pried his hand away from his eye, revealing the giant purple bump. You held his chin between your fingers and turned his head, discovering more and more injuries the longer you studied his face. His lip was split, there was a nasty gash on his forehead, and his other eye was beginning to turn a disgusting yellow.


“Don’t freak out,” he said, pulling away from you. “I’m okay, I promise.”


“Bullshit! You look awful, Pete. Who did this to you?”


He stared at the carpet, trying to come up with another convincing lie.


“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”


He didn’t say a word. He just looked up at you with that stupidly adorable puppy dog face. You sighed heavily and threw up your hands.


“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But you do have to tell somebody. Maybe I should call May and let her know-”


Peter rushed over to you and grabbed the cell phone you had just picked up out of your hand.


“Please, please do not tell Aunt May. She can’t know, Y/N. This would kill her.”


“Well how do you think I feel? You show up every day to school, late by the way, with bruises all over your body and I’m just supposed to accept that? Like it’s normal? It’s not normal, Peter, and it’s not okay to lie to me about something like this. It’s not fair.”


Peter wilted and slumped down on your bed. He ran a hand through his hair.


“I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I want to tell you, but…” He trailed off and let his head fall into the palms of his hands. “Ow,” he muttered and jumped when he remembered that his face was wounded, gently stroking the huge bump on his cheekbone with his fingertips.


You were furious with Peter, but right now, fixing him up was the most important thing to you. Without saying a word, you marched over to your bathroom and switched on the light, rifling through your medicine cabinet for your first-aid kit and grabbed a towel so he could dry off. When you successfully received each, you plopped beside him on the bed, handed him the towel, and began the long process of patching up his wounds. The gash on his forehead was bad, but luckily not so bad that it would need stitches. He stared at you as you worked, trying to figure out what you were thinking, but you pretended not to notice and remained focused on your task. When you finished, you got up and returned the kit to your bathroom. You shut the cabinet loudly and stared at it, not sure what to do next. You were zoned out on the cabinet still when you heard Peter in the bathroom doorway.


“Y/N?” He said gently. You still couldn’t look at him.


“You need to go home, Pete,” You mumbled.


He paused and shuffled his feet.


“I…I can’t. Aunt May…”


“May needs to handle this. I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” You brushed past him and opened the window. “I don’t know how you got up here, and I don’t want to. But you can’t leave through the front door because you’ll wake my parents up, so this will have to do.”


You turned away from him to face the wall, waiting to hear him shut the window behind himself. But he didn’t. Instead, you felt something cling to the back of your sweater and spin you quickly into Peter’s arms. It happened so fast that you barely had time to react. You stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes.


“What the hell was that?” You squeaked. As if to answer your question, he shot something from a gadget attached his wrist out the open window. It looked like some kind of long, sticky string. You opened your mouth to scream out in shock, but you flew out the window before any noise could escape it. Before you knew it, you were on the rooftop across from your building. Your feet were planted safely on the surface, but you couldn’t force yourself to remove your arms from Peter’s neck. After you were finally able to catch your breath, you slowly peeled yourself from him and met his gaze. Now you knew what he had been hiding this entire time. Now all of the bruises, all of the times he showed up late to school, all of the times he ditched you, all of the lies; everything suddenly made sense. Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Your head was spinning.


“You…you’re…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words out loud. 


Peter shrugged.


“Spider-Man, yeah. No biggie.”


You nodded and backed away from him slowly. You snapped out of your trance and looked up, realizing that it was still raining pretty hard, and pointed lamely at the dark sky.


“Still raining,” You mumbled.
 

Peter nodded and took a step towards you. You took a step back. He took another step forward and you stayed put this time. He walked closer and closer until the space between you was completely gone.


“Y/N, I get it if you don’t want to see me anymore. I know seeing me battered all the time without knowing why has been hard for you, and I’m really sorry about that. Believe me, it took everything I had to keep this from you. But you understand now why I had to, right? Nobody else knows. Not even May. Especially not May…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what else to say besides I’m sorry.”


You nodded. You didn’t know what to say either. You looked up at the dreary sky again, letting the fat raindrops hit your forehead. Peter looked up, too, then back down at you. Suddenly, you were hit with an intense sense of clarity. You looked into his eyes and realized that you really didn’t care about all of the lies anymore. You didn’t care that your best friend was Spider-Man. All you cared about was Peter, standing right here in front of you on a rooftop in the middle of Queens. And suddenly, all you wanted was his lips against yours. You rushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck once more, smashing your lips against his. At first he was taken aback, but it only took about a millisecond for him to kiss you back fiercely. He moved his hands to your waist and pulled you closer to him. You put your hands on his face, completely forgetting about the massive bump that resided on his cheek.


“Ouch,” he muttered, fighting the urge to pull away.


You giggled, your nose touching his.


“Sorry, Spider-Boy.”


He grinned and kissed you again, neither of you caring that your clothes were completely soaked through from the rain.

http://beeisatthedisco.livejournal.com/892.html

Chapter two: Burn Down The Disco

At streetlamps hour on a very boring Saturday, Dallon and I decide to leave our tiny apartment.
I lock the door behind us and follow him a couple of blocks to a new bar he’s been raving about. It’s only just opened and he thinks that one day it’s going to have a guest list to get in, so we should make ourselves known there, apparently.

We walk beneath the moonlight, it’s there, very lightly, mostly hidden by the bright lights of New York City below it but I can still make out the moon if I look hard enough.

“Holy smokes, you’re gonna love it here, Brendon, I went with Spence and Gabe last night and it rocked. There were cute guys on the bar making these amazing cocktails I’ve never even heard of and every one there seemed so… cool and gosh, Brendon, we might meet some famous people, it’s gonna be the new hot spot, oh, I love New York!” He’s babbling but it’s cute, I smile up at him, so tall and enthusiastic and he’s throwing his long limbs around as he speaks.

He’s right, too, New York is so different to Utah, our hometown. Utah is so closed minded and hateful and… stubborn. New York is open, beautiful and understanding. New York has never punished him for loving men. Not yet.

The bouncer on the door nods at Dallon, recognising him from last night and it is a new club, after all. The smell of perfume, aftershave and sweat hits us before the smoke machine does as we walk in, it clouds over the both of us and all I can see is Dallon Weekes’s big stupid grin poking out the top of the smoke. I hum in approval at the choice of music as Morrisseys voice drones over the speakers.

‘Burn down the disco
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music that they constantly play
Says nothing to me about my life’

“Brendon, hermaso!” an excited voice comes as Gabriel Saporta’s long arms pull me into them, he’s stupidly tall too and my nose hits his chest in our embrace. He always throws Spanish words into english sentences, he thinks it makes him sound more interesting. I hug him back, giving him a small smile and backing back against the bar, knowing not to be too friendly with Gabe or he will try and take me home again. Or to the toilets, that’s happened before too.

“Shit…” He’s suddenly distracted, I turn around to inspect why his eyes have now turned to saucers and oh. Oh. Mine are saucers now too. The boy from work is there, right there and dang… he’s in another fancy suit but looks more relaxed, hair combed perfectly into a quiff and rolling a cigarette in his fingers, at least I think it’s a cigarette. No girl this time. That’s too bad. I’m grinning. And wait, does Gabe know him?

“Who is it?” I press, Dallon and Spencer have turned to look now too, not that he’d notice, too involved in conversation with another freakishly tall man that has pretty girl hair and sharp cheekbones.


“Who is it?! That’s Ryan Ross, the Ryan Ross… he owns most of New York! Oh! This is probably his club, look at him, he owns this place for sure. Oh, don’t look at him like that Urie, he’d chew you up and spit you out. Rumour has it he dates who he wants, when he wants and people disappear when he’s done with them…” I roll my eyes because great, another big ego in a world of egotistical maniacs. No thank you. He’s pretty too, it’s a shame.

“I’m getting a drink…” I review the cocktail menu briefly before ordering myself an old fashioned. I take out my wallet to pay before I hear a voice in my ear.

“I’ve got it, pretty, put your money away…” The voice is velvety and smooth, low but without being gravelly and I melt. I haven’t gotten laid in a while so I smile and accept it, putting my wallet in my pocket before turning around to thank the kind stranger.

“Thank you, I’m… oh.” My throat feels dry as I look up into Ryan’s eyes, so that’s what they look like. Shit. He should never wear sunglasses. It should be a crime. The bartender passes my drink to Ryan and he doesn’t have to pay for it. Maybe he does own the joint. He’s even more beautiful unclose and I’ve forgotten how to speak. God, Brendon, play it cool, he’s just another asshole who thinks he can get anyone, Gabe even said it. Don’t let him get you.

“Your name is… oh? Mine is Ryan.” Ryan grins, clearly amused as he passes me my drink and crosses his arms over. A stunned silence surrounds our friend group and I look from Gabe to Dallon to Spencer with wide eyes for help but I’m just met with shrugs and shaking heads, great, they’re all intimated too.

“No… uh. It’s Brendon.” I correct, fixing my shirt and pulling it lower because he smells good and he’s too close and my pants feel tight. Of course they find him intimidating, he has that air around him, he’s not as tall as all of my weirdly tall friends but he’s tall enough and he stands proud. He licks his lips. I’m fucked.

“I know that. Saw it on your name tag today. You work in that lingerie store for the discount?” He smirks and he’s eating me up with his eyes. I don’t know if he’s mocking me or if he’s getting off to imagining me in tiny lace panties. His look is dark and it could be either. Or both.

Suddenly the tall man I saw him with earlier walks out from the bathrooms, throwing his arms around Ryan and I hold back a disapproving glare as he kisses his beautiful, chiseled cheek. Gabe wolf whistles at him, looking him up and down and within a second Ryan is in my friends face, fists tight.


“Dont. William is mine and one more derogatory noise from your mouth around him and you’re out. You here me? Out from here and every other gay bar in the area. And you won’t be back.” He all but snarls as he pulls away, tugging Will with him as they walk to the VIP area, he turns back to give me a little grin. What a fucking mindfuck.

“Asshole…” Gabe whispers, too quiet for anyone except us to hear as he watches Ryan and William walk up the stairs to the VIP area and slip into one of the booths, a curtain covering them. Gabe’s pride is clearly knocked but he gets over it, chanting ‘shots’ and clapping to the music, soon distracted by a pretty shot boy carrying alcohol on a tray and handing them out. I take one. It burns. I use the drink Ryan got me to chase it.

* * *

3am. We’re singing and swaying and I can’t get him out of my mind. I want to dislike him with everything in me but I can’t. I’m just intrigued, I want to know more. His honey-coloured eyes burn into my brain and shit, I don’t think I’ll ever rid the memory of them.

He was wearing eyeliner, it made him look even more feminine which is really sexy combined with that arrogant, masculine persona he carries. The glow of neon is hurting my eyes in the best way when I tell my friends I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll be right back. I don’t realise that I’m being followed.

I don’t need the toilet, I’m just a sweaty dude right now and I need to dab my face, I grab some tissues and pat them over my skin, looking at myself in the mirror. Another body presses behind me and I freeze. The face that hooks over my shoulder is familiar and some large hands are holding my hips.


“Fancy seeing you here…” I gulp, eyes meeting Ryan’s gorgeous honey dripped ones in the mirror. Kill me now. I can’t take this. He’s watching his hands work over my hips and he seems to like the sight. I want him to bend me over the sink and fuck me right in front of the large mirror, right here, where anyone could walk in and catch us. I wonder if he could even get in trouble for that, by the sounds he couldn’t get in trouble for anything.

Apparently he can because he immediately lets go of my hips and backs off when he hears the door open and he gives me a look that says ‘maybe next time…’ before slipping away again. He always slips away.

I walk back out and Dallon’s grinning at me when I come over to them.


“He’s the guy, isn’t he? The one you won’t stop talking about. Golly, B, you’re like a lovesick puppy around him… don’t let him hurt you, okay? I don’t wanna have to pick up any pieces…” I cut his babbling off with a sharp tone.

“I’m not! I don’t care about Ryan fuckin’ Ross and his too good for everyone attitude. I’m not going to be another tick on his “to do” list.” I sigh, rubbing his arm as I didn’t mean to shout. I just. I’m not. I’m not easy and I can’t be bought with drinks and sexy looks.

“Sorry. Maybe we should go.” I don’t want to, the more drunk I get, the more I want to stay and gaze at Ryan but when I see him with his tongue down Williams throat and begin to imagine that it’s me… I decide that leaving probably was the better idea.

We walk. Stumble… home.

get to know me

Rules: always repost the rules; answer the 11 random questions posted for you; create 11 new ones and tag 11 people!!

Thanks for the tag @cosimasdreads​ :D

Questions:

1) A genre of music you can’t stand at all?

Screamo (no offence to anyone who likes this genre, it’s completely my opinion, I just prefer more chill music)

2) What song would you want to be your wedding song?

Ooooh I have a Spotify playlist with a list of songs lol, but my favourite ones are: Still In Love With You by Matt Johnson, Only Wanna Be With You (unplugged) by Samm Henshaw and Baby I’m Yours by Arctic Monkeys

3) If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called?

Lucas 

4) What language would you most like to learn?

Probably Mandarin since that’s the most used language. But German would also be cool to learn :) 

5) Do you prefer city lights or stars?  

STARS STARS STARS STARS STARS STARS

6) Pet peeves?

People who don’t say thank you when you hold the door open for them or are just rude in general. Stationery pet peeve - when people don’t ask to borrow your precious stationery or when it returns not the way they borrowed it (YELLOW HIGHLIGHTERS *cries*) 

7) What’s something you find attractive in a person?

There are way too many things I find attractive in people, that’s why I crush easily. I loveee when people are passionate about something, someone who is ambitious and has goals and dreams and they want to be the best person they possibly can omg I swoon. And I can be so happy for them when they achieve it or when they are so close to their dreams.

8) Last movie that made you cry?

I knowwwww Hamilton is not a movie but I can’t remember the last movie that made me cry so I’ll say Hamilton. That. Made. Me. Cri. So. Much. 

9) What are you most afraid of?

I’m most afraid of the future - I know it sounds like a generic answer. I’m afraid that I’ll live a horrible life in the future, no one knows what’s gonna happen to me. What if I don’t get a good job? What if I end up living alone and not have any friends or get married? But what I think I’m most afraid of is that my parents won’t see me be happy and successful and I won’t be able to give them the world and everything they deserve.

Gosh that question made me sink into a hole of despair and emotions, I don’t want to have an existential crisis right now. 

10) Favourite accent?

Australian accents :D

11) What is your definition of love?

Love (romantic, friendship, family, all different types of love) is a part of yourself that you know you can’t live without. Love is a connection between people, the feeling that you can trust that person with your life. Almost a desire to protect that person with all your heart, and wanting what’s best for them, their happiness, health, a good future. Love makes you human. But so does pain. 

Tagging: @cosimasdreads (it doesn’t say I can’t tag you back :P) @ohmystarsrycbar @bookboundgalaxies @studylustre @kiimbapnotes @completehamiltrash @planetums @studybuddyy @imaginativestudies @estudiyante @obsidianstudy

My questions:

1) Favourite potato food?

2) Describe your dream house. 

3) What do you think is the weirdest animal?

4) What movie can you re-watch without getting bored of it? 

5) Do you always order the same things in restaurants/ places you go to eat? If yes, what?

6) What would you regret NOT doing?

7) If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?

8) What do you want to be remembered by? 

9) If your life was turned into a movie, what would it be called and which actor would play you? 

10) What was the last thing that made you smile?

11) Would you rather stay up late and stargaze or wake up early and take a morning walk while watching the sun rise?