WE’RE REMAKING. if we haven’t interacted and you would like to, please give this a like and I’ll hit you up on my new blog.
WE’RE REMAKING. if we haven’t interacted and you would like to, please give this a like and I’ll hit you up on my new blog.
WE’RE REMAKING. if we haven’t interacted and you would like to, please give this a like and I’ll hit you up on my new blog.
 | mockeryofreason asked: "Okay, but, consider this: i don’t care. i’m gonna do it." |
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the words that want to rise from his mouth are a deeply sarcastic that’s nice, honey. what rises instead are his eyes over the lip of the laptop, flicking between miles, the screen, miles, the screen.
“ … fuck, fine, ” he pushes the laptop aside with a huff. “ but I’m coming,
and you don’t get to bitch when I have to stitch you up after. ”
 | r4gn0r0k asked: ‘ you’re a first class cunt . ‘ //said with love |
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he laughs, louder than he probably intended— alcohol has a way of stripping away a lot of james’ frigid professionalism. he’s not quite giggly drunk, but he’s definitely loud drunk, and he had promised matt a few drinks to celebration their recent success.
“ and you, matt, are a third-rate skiddie brat, ” he glances dreamily down into
the cheap drink swirling in his glass, contemplative. ” but that’s why I like you. ”
| mockeryofreason asked: "Damn, this is a lot of rain." |
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the words come stifled through heavy blankets and james’ face buried thoroughly in miles’ chest. sundays bring with them a complete lack of obligation— not to dedsec, not to murkoff, not to work. just them. and when the sun struggles to shine pale light through the overcast sky and the faint tapping of rain against the window are what greet him in the morning, then who is james to deny mother nature telling him to stay in bed?
a tired moan slips from his lips, digging himself deeper into the cocoon of
miles and blankets. “ and a great opportunity to stay right here. ”
 | shittierhero asked: 👀 // LOOK WHO'S ACTUALLY ON HER COMPUTER HEYYOOOOO |
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they’re at a bar— him and phil, they’re drinking, and james is pressed a little too close to his side because there’s a guy a couple stools over who is giving him some seriously bad vibes. in public, like this, intimacy is strictly forbidden; he knows phil can, will, and has decked people who make comments about them, but that doesn’t mean james invites such things— and the bars make him uncomfortable. even in places like roscoe’s, james’ discomfort runs high, only soothed momentarily by a small nudge of phil’s foot under the table.
“ where is he? ”
because they’re supposed to be meeting someone. a friend of his, recently in town. you’ll love him, he’s an asshole, phil tells him. ( phil tells him he’d like a lot of his friends who are assholes— phil considers himself an asshole. phil is the light of james’ life, and james takes that assignment with a grain of salt. )
“ patience, young padawan, ” phil’s reply comes on the tail end of a smirk,
scanning the bar. “ he’s working his magic. ”
and phil points him ( discretely ) across the bar, to a man with a shock of white hair— james wonders for a moment if that’s some edgy cool dude thing or if he’s… genuinely unsure how that would happen naturally. nevermind.
and their new friend finds james’ eyes, and with a wink
mouths: watch this.
this is how james park met spencer fitzgerald: conning a drunk asshole at a dive bar.
| mockeryofreason asked: 👀!!! |
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miles finds him with dark, pin-point pupils and unkempt clothes, a disaster held together by flannel and cigarettes. of course dedsec had jumped on the massive tapes, and had looked to shelter anyone coming out of it who needed protection and wanted revenge, but miles is a whole other storm. he looks like the thing hell coughed up because it couldn’t break him down.
their meeting is tepid at best. miles is exhausted in a way that leeches down into his soul, and james’ mind is set with pity ( which he knows miles won’t appreciate ) and the slow spinning of machinations against the company that did this.
“ try to rest. you’re safe here. ”
 | exosemporium-a asked: "crispy as fuck." //u kno who |
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“ eugh. ”
his frown only grows more severe as wrench plays the footage again. the shadowy figure, and the screech like a hundred digital banshees as the feed cuts to the two women previous in frame— gone. the noise makes him flinch more than what feels to him like a pre-manufactured jump scare: except this is footage they lifted from a real camera, and the women are really gone.
“ I think the audio is going to kill us before the shuffler does. this have
the same encoding as the first one? ”