Puckurt Big Bang sign ups are now OPEN to both Artists and Authors! Please head over and take a look around, ask questions at the Mod Post if you have any (once you read our FAQ, of course!) and get ready for amazing things, Puckurt fans! :D
And since I’ve been pretty passive the last weeks (idk, months?), maybe you’d like to follow them to.
I’m going to get this blog going again, I promise you that; I’ve just been busy with school and organizing a Big Bang, but the Big Bang will be over November 1st, and I’m now a part-time student instead of full time, so.
I’m here daily, so even though I’m not activly reblogging, you can submit posts and they’ll get posted!
The other demon glee blog can be found here.
Honestly, it just kinda happened. It started with a few people doing some crossover stories with SPN and other shows that has supernatural creatures/demons, and some graphic artists doing art to them, and then it just exploded!
(via klurlarchives)
Brittany liked secrets. Not the big ones, or the kind that hurt people, but the little white secrets, the ones that only best friends told each other under pinky promise and crossed hearts. There were things that Brittany knew about people that no one else did; she may not be passing English (or Geometry, or History), but she was attentive, and she picked up on the little details about people. She liked people.
And then there were the things she knew about Santana Lopez.
Brittany knew a lot about Santana Lopez; probably more than Santana herself did. She knew what kind of sheets she used, and the color of her panties on any given day. She knew her favorite cereal was Frosted Flakes and that her head fit like a puzzle in the crook of Brittany’s neck. All the extras that came along with Santana, she liked, like an appliance that came with a bunch of extra pieces that had nothing to contribute to the actual structure of the machine itself. Brittany knew that Santana wasn’t actually a blender though, but something else entirely, something not of this world (although a gay blender probably would be otherworldly too).
But that was just another thing to love her for, and not all that different from having a collection of teddy bears or snoring in her sleep.
“Quinn, honey-” Santana begin, still stuffing clothes and shoes into her bag, “You have a problem.”
Quinn looked over from the couch, legs crossed and eyes black. She scoffed when Santana violently zipped her bag and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the table. Quinn sipped her champagne delicately, the blood of her last victim still on her tongue. She licked her lips.
“I have a problem?” Quinn asked sarcastically, blinking her dark eyes away to feign mortality before they left for school. ”I’m not the one drinking at six am. By the way, I’m hungry. Can we find a snack before school?”
“The drinking isn’t what I’m talking about,” Santana sneered, “If you keep ‘snacking’ people are gonna notice, Q. Cool your jets, you’re flying into a storm.”
I don’t want to be like this.
