#promascot

[distantsuns-archive]

@promascot​​

               ❝ Hey--- got this tune that’s been knockin’ about inside my head for weeks now and driving me fuckin’ mad, could you give it a listen and tell me if it’s shite? ❞

[trageadies]

    𝙰 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝚃 𝚈𝙰𝚆𝙽 𝚂𝙻𝙸𝙿𝚂 ,   as the gym owner walks towards the entrance.  bleary sky blue eyes noting the male waiting and he feels a small tinge of guilt wondering how long the other had been waiting.     “    sorry i’m late.   my adorable newborn decided that i didn’t need any sleep.    ”         there is a softness showing that despite his lack of sleep.   he didn’t regret it.     (  …   or his little one  )        “    so you wanting to put a session in today.   or book it for something else.    ”      

[ starter  call ]   :  not  accepting .   |    @promascot​​  :  for  spencer.

[distantsuns-archive]

@promascot​​ sent: “tell me all the things you would change.” for maybe v2 Spence for a lil treat

               ❝ Mate, where do I begin? Maybe--- well, you know my marriage has been on the rocks for a long time, and I wish things were like they used to be, but I don’t know how to start. ❞ He sighed, as he downed the rest of his scotch. ❝ I try to act like it doesn’t bother me, but it fuckin’ eats me inside every day. ❞

[trageadies]

" ☾  . "   ( 78 )

 “     𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳   ,     of the road.   we’ve all been there before .    ”

[ meme ]   :  still  accepting .   |    @promascot​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  :  spencer .

[nightstalk]

&.        .      .      .        ☾     continued from here.     /     @promascot​​

intervention was not always warranted, but when the surf nazi’s were involved, david couldn’t help but stick his nose where it didn’t belong.    that’s not to say there wasn’t a payoff for such action, eyes shifting over the other until he focuses on hands that grip so tightly the knuckles have turned white.    “   anything you like.   ”     the answer is paired with the softest of smiles.     “  what are you in the mood for ?    .   .   .   you hungry ?   ”

[rebelw1thacause]

@promascot​: “don’t do that. don’t shut me out.” 

“I ain’t trying to shut you out!” Jasmine insisted.  “There’s just shit in my life going on that I don’t want to talk about.”

While Jasmine always lent an ear to others, she had trouble airing her own grievances.  Maybe it was hypocritical, but she needed other people’s problems to distract from her own.

[rebelw1thacause]

@promascot​: “you’ve been crying. i can tell.” 

Jasmine rubbed her eyes, turning to face Spencer.

“Is it that obvious, sug?” she asked in her smooth southern accent.

Jasmine had recently moved, her mind on on her father’s last words to her.  Those manipulated words that only pretended to love her but told her that she was destined to fail.  Jasmine faked a smile, hoping to dissuade Spencer.

“It’s nothing, just some family issues,” she tried to reassure him.

[revvnant]

@promascot​ / school’s out for summer

Come on, Afton, live a little! Can’t you ditch just once? They’ll find someone to cover your shift! They won’t even notice you were gone! He can’t, dude. His Dad runs the place like a fuckin’ prison warden. See you when you get outta the clink, Mike!

       Whatever. It was whatever. He hadn’t wanted to go out anyways. Why would he want to spend summer with those assholes when he could be inside, surrounded by screaming children and entitled parents, serving shitty reheated pizza and doling out grease-covered tokens and prizes that weren’t worth what it had cost to earn them? That’s called profit, Michael. No, it was called being an idiot and wasting your money -- but he supposed they survived on that, didn’t they? And everybody had a vice. There was no difference between gambling and going to an arcade, save for what you got out of it; and sure, you could win big at a casino, but it was boring as Hell and slow to boot. At least arcades were fun, and you didn’t have to factor plastic aliens that went on your fingers into your taxes.

       That was an idea. Maybe he’d cover his fingers in aliens, and when parents asked him to ring them up, he’d just be like, Nope, can’t do it, I’m infected, and wave his hands in their faces. Kids would probably get a kick out of it. He would have, at their age. He was just squatting to dig around under the counter when he heard footsteps approaching, and he jerked up so fast he smashed the top of his head into the wooden divider. “Damn it! I mean-- welcome to Freddy’s-- how can I help you...”