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romanfisherbrooks‌:

“That’s the best part about jokes, you can tell them over and over, my guy!” Settling down beside Matt, Roman was quick to order his first drink of the night while his buddy thought over their options. “Twenty one, huh?” The drink was quick to come, and Roman was quicker to tip their bartender an extra amount to keep the drinks coming their way. “You know what? I’m feeling lucky. Let’s choose a dealer, because I know for a fact…” He moved in closer, voice dropping a bit. “…Marcelo over there, keen eye and too fucking good at his job.”

"I’ve never been a fan of jokes,” He admitted. Roman was lucky that he was cool or else Matt would’ve been done with his shit a long time ago. Matt ordered an old fashioned when the bartender came back before agreeing with Roman. “We countin’ today? I can try out some signals and shit so we can make some actual money. And avoid fuckin’ Marcelo.”

#{ romanfisherbrooks }#{ conversation }

penelcpegauthier‌:

Matthew had always been a fighter, but it was worse when he wasn’t sober, which seemed to be the default mood lately. It happened without her even realizing what was going on, but unlike her boyfriend was saying, she couldn’t help but wonder if something hadn’t provoke the other. Although bar fights were common,. there was usually something that started them. Putting her hand on his arm to try and calm him, she smiled softly. “Or we could go home and not bother with other people tonight.”

There wasn’t much that could calm him down. Penelope of all people, could. She was his impulse control, his common sense that he didn’t have. He was angry, and it would be hard to just let it go, but he’d do it in exchange for something else. “Oh yeah? And what could we do there?”

#{ penelcpegauthier }#{ conversation }

@penelcpegauthier

Getting thrown out of bars wasn’t new to him. He had a tendency to get heated, especially when his blood was full of alcohol and drugs. There was no use in fighting with security as they pretty much picked him up and threw him out. However, he was still extremely angry and that meant punching the garbage can that was conveninitely placed outside. “Fuckin’ bullshit, Pen. It’s all fucking bullshit. I wasn’t even looking at that guy! And he came and tried to punch the lights outta me and I’m in trouble? C’mon, lets find some place else.”

#{ penelcpegauthier }#{ conversation }

romanfisherbrooks‌:

“Hey there, my guy. Lookin’ like the opposite of grey, I see!” This was how a standard Roman greeting went; pats on the back, that glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and a smirk that looked like it was holding more secrets than accompanying a greeting. “So, what are lookin’ at tonight? Cards, roulette…a good old game of poker, perhaps? I’m feeling king size.” @matthcwgray

"Dude, the number of times I’ve heard that joke,” He said, shaking his head. Matt tried to give him a chuckle, he liked Roman. He was one of the only people he could stand. “I’m thinking a nice old game of 21. I wanna win some money quickly, and we all know poker ain’t it. You down?”

#{ romanfisherbrooks }#{ conversation }

dailybrantdaugherty

#{ visage }

beauxhaywood-deactivated2019112

#{ visage }

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two up, down.