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@justabartender
We have a breach in the Research Wing. I repeat, a breach in the Research Wing.

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justmachincs :
The voice snaps him out of the daze Rupert’s been in. His head cocks slightly, giving the man a glance over. Then he turns to assess his surroundings. Shit, he’s incredibly far from home. He spins abruptly to find any semblance of where he was but nothing rings familiar; he’s rarely left the block of his apartment & now he’s so far out.
He grits his teeth & turns back. Rupert really doesn’t want to ask for help. He knows, however, that if he doesn’t he might end up wandering about for hours until he actually finds his way back. Even if his birds can manage a while without him, it still makes him anxious.
“Yeah,” Rupert says, taking steps closer until they’re several feet apart. The smoke doesn’t make his nose tingle thankfully. “I need to get to Ferndale.”
Eyes fade back into a light brown, the bartender continuing with his lazy drag of his cigarette. “You’re going the wrong way, then.” It’d taken some time to get familiar with the area, but luckily all the shit that went on didn’t leave him with a faulty memory. Quite the opposite actually, unable to get some images out of his head that don’t belong to him.
He keeps the stick between his teeth, a dangerous thing to do with one’s filter, pointing the opposite direction of where the man faces. “Ferndale’s all the way south, man. You’re like--an hour or two out if you’re walking.”
He’s assuming he’s walking; a few of his coworkers walk, something that Desmond knows he used to do constantly himself. Crowded streets of Manhattan, eating while you maneuver the intricate system of the subway. If you bothered taking it.
smokeandbanners :
“Well yeah so seeing as no one is here in keeping you company.” He flashed a bright smile at the other man. He was being friendly because he hated seeing sad people or people sad.
“So what do you do around here for fun?” He looks at Desmond,waiting for an answer.
The question has him pausing, hesitating as the word fun gets processed. He...doesn’t really know. Fun had been different before everything that happened. Going out and drinking had been fun, eating mysterious hot dogs from vendors at 2 A.M had been fun. Living his life the way he’d wanted it had been fun.
Now? Now he’s just tired all the time. “Just...sit up here. Look at the lights. Get a taco maybe, nothing too exciting.”
sooo you guys remember college castes? the best au ever? yea? well! im always a slut for the modern gang so here!
they promised deso he’d get to play when clay wins…it’s been three hours…
Daniel: I will make you sorry you were ever born.
Desmond: Well, for your information, I'm already sorry I was ever born.

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@justmachincs (Rupert)
The icy burn of menthol runs into the Desmond’s throat, nicotine coursing through his body and easing away tension in his shoulders. A pause, smoke billowing out his nose in a sigh that he’d swear wasn’t relief. He leans against the brick wall of the building, still able to hear the thunderous, pulsing music inside the club, but thankful he’s not inside it anymore.
Shit was a lot more fun when he was eighteen.
He stops mid rise of his hand to take another drag, prickles rising across his arms and the back of his neck as the sensation of being watched reaches his senses.
Eyes close only to reopen into a metallic, brilliant gold, the bartender slowly turning his head towards a figure. Not quite bathed in red, but not blue either, an in-between that keeps it almost purple. Potential, maybe.
“You lost, pal?”
So hey, it’s been another hot minute where I got drowned in adult stuff. I honestly lost track of stuff so I figure starting fresh is best
give this a like if you want something, or want to pick something back up while I try desperately to fill my queue
Des is an irresponsible bitch but his son is beautiful
The heat is all encompassing, inescapable. Crawling under his clothes and making him sweat in places you really shouldn’t sweat. But--fuck. Summers in New York were a goddamn nightmare, the concrete entrapment of the building taking in all the car exhaust, the plethora of ovens and bodies. Making Manhattan specifically, a hotbox.
“Fuckin’ 95 degrees,” He says it with open disdain, even as he wears a leather jacket, bottled water from one of the vendors already joining him in the sweating party. “Fuck summer, man. I’m lucky to be well off enough to get a place with central cooling.”
Message me with "Hey there little one" to interact with my muse back when they were a child

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smokeandbanners:
He pulls Desmond away from the edge more,giving him a hug. “Nice name~” he eventually let go of Desmond.
“You seem nice on the inside,so if like to get to know you more.” He smiles at Desmond “Sorry you look like you needed a free hug.”
He was sitting with Desmond, just talking with the bartender for awhile. He was happy just sitting here with a cute guy.
“My face that sad looking?” It’s an attempt at humor, but the unexpected interaction is leaving the bartender off kilter, off balance in the delicate game he’s mastered. Of looking unconcerned, untouched by the things around him, maybe a little anger to keep people cautious. At a distance.
It of course didn’t work with the three people he was sharing space with, that he slept on the floor with in insulated sleeping bags, listening to their respective sleeping quirks, telling them to fuck off when they teased him about his snoring.
He reminds himself to drop his shoulder, drop the tension, undo his clenched jaw and study the other with growing curiosity.
IG: tyler.sanford
Two bros running on rooftops beating up cops cuz they are gay 🏳🌈🔥🗡
ubisoft and suckerpunch whats good
Inspired by THIS post.
Desmond is not that happy Becca, I mean technically it is true, but still, did you really had to say it??

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Rebecca: Where do you guys hide your weed? Shaun and Lucy: What? Rebecca: I hid mine when I was stoned and now I can’t find it.