#you can back out if you smoke it snort it or eat it but injecting it youre done

[ask-calico-jack]

drug recs for a first time drug doer? I've drunk alcohol obviously but never done anything harder.

Other than booze which I love, Rhino Horn is definitely my favorite. Helps me get shit done but is also fun. But it's not like that for everybody. Eddie basically only does it when he's in a mood and Mary doesn't fuck with it at all, she's more of a stoner than a tweaker. Weeds fun every once in a while. I don't really like opium because you just sit around and nod off. You feel really happy but you don't do much and I like to be doing shit. Can't have a coconut war on opium, and it's a bit of a waste of medical supplies anyway. I basically only do it if there's nothing else on the boat. Mushrooms are great for an afternoon, kinda like weed in that it's for a special occasion where you want to sit around and giggle at stupid shit. You know if you mix mushrooms with lemon juice it dissolves em a little bit and it doesn't last as long but it hits you way harder.

[katsukikitten]

Irritated 9

Short but hey at least I'm writing again.

WARNINGS:  18+ AU, Dark Adult themes, proceed with caution. 

"Moving onto the most crucial point of this meeting. Due to the heavy rumors of the reappearance of the league of villains and high end nomus I need the two of you to be in..." But the rest of the conversation is drowned out by the rushing blood in the ash blonde's ears.

Teetering on the back two legs of his chair as his eyes burn holes into that damn emerald mop head who is ever present in his life.

The same dumb ass who asks questions about this meeting.

But he isn't asking the right ones.

Hell everyone seems to be avoiding the elephant in the room as they carry on normal conversation all the while the hot head grows even hotter.

The swirling rage demanding his undivided attention while his ribs echo his heart beat.

Finally he snaps, slamming down the two front legs of his chair, palms hissing as explosions ring out stunning the other two in the room.

The wood at his seat is forever charred, while yours was always neat, easy to forget as they seem to have now.

Hell even Izuku was sitting in your normal seat.

"Oi, how much longer are you two gonna act like nothing is fucking wrong?" He growls, Izuku looks away with flamed cheeks proving Bakugou's theory right.

Izuku was worried too, he was just too scared to ask.

"I don't follow."

"You lying fucker. You *do* follow. When was the last you heard form Y/N?!" He slams his phone on the table when no one answers, "Since she quit right?"

"So that makes it a whole fucking month. No one has seen her, no one has heard from her and her insta is dead." He shoves the phone in their faces. The last picture you posted was of Bakugou and Deku standing next to All Might's cut out.

"She could be on vacation." Yami counters to which Bakugou snorts.

"And she wouldn't want any dumbass pictures of the beach with an even shittier caption?" He hisses, "No paparazzi has seen her?"

"I'm sure she's been spotted."

"Where? All the tabloids question her where abouts."

"Staycation. No one knows where she lives. She was always good at that." Yami counters, nervously sipping at his coffee causing the blonde to grind his teeth.

"How is she eating if I still have her fucking card?" He slams the plastic on the table that clatters with it's own dramatic flare.

Director Yami gulps desperate for an excuse as Deku's eyes widen.

"New card." Yami shrugs making his way back to the bulletin points behind him.

"Its still active." The room is enveloped in that sweet burning sugary smell as his temper rises. He is no longer playing Mr. Nice guy.

"Activate her tracker." Its a threat and a promise all in one. Do as I say or become fuel for my explosions is everything his eyes say.

"S...she threw her bracelet at me when she resigned." Yami tries to sound direct as Izuku subconsciously fingers the metal on his own wrist.

"Yea but I doubt she did that with the one that's implanted. Pull it up Yami."

The director is stunned into silence before a burning blush creeps onto his face.

"I..." He clears his throat no longer able to hold eye contact with either party, "I don't think it will work."

"What?!" A snarl and a shocked retort echo in the room.

"What do you mean?" Another set of polar opposite tones ring out in the small stuffy place of the meeting room. Yami fishes for his phone in his pocket, pulling up the neglected app swallowing thickly as he is proved right.

The map shows no red dots. Only the hundreds of blue caused by the bracelets. He pushes the phone to the center of the table, the proximity is close enough to reactivate the trackers in the two men. Slowly two red dots flicker to life beside blue.

The third never makes an appearance.

"Why isn't hers showing?" Izuku asks, a glare beginning to weigh heavy in his jade eyes.

"If it's not checked monthly then it deactivates on it's own." He pinches the bridge of his nose, "In my defense I had seen the three of you everyday for the last few months. You guys are a PR nightmare!"

Bakugou's glare narrows in on the ignorant man who was in charge of the safety of hundreds of heroes.

He was going to be pay for his ignorance.

Izuku watches the hot head's toned arm lift, palm spread wide, realizing just in time Bakugou's intentions. He lunges for his old friend, knocking him off balance as the two of them fight. The two men struggling for dominance before the blonde comes out on top.

Literally, pinning the emerald haired man, as he raises a fist, sure to make contact with his stupid, freckled face.

He always hated this face, but you, you didn't seem to mind it.

And yet, in a sense, Deku had let you down too.

But no one let you down as much as Bakugou had. Or so he thinks, he keeps telling himself something isn't right, that he should have followed you.

Maybe even apologized.

"And fuck you too Useless Deku! Too much of a pussy to ask about your fucking friends!" He brings his fist down, aided by the power of his quirk.

Deku shuts his eyes and hope he doesn't lose too many teeth.

The punch makes contact but not with Izuku's face. Instead Bakugou's forearm is half swallowed by carpet, concrete and steel biting into his flesh. He ignores it with a growl. He rises with a growl, scarlet eyes set in determination as he blasts the door from its hinges.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

The smell of damp Earth and harsh chemicals assault your nostrils as your vision rapidly fades in and out. 

As if it watching an old film, images flickering by just fast enough to give it the effect of motion. 

But this felt like a horror film. 

And one you are staring in. Your breath comes rapid and hitched as you try to fight the silent fingers that slowly caress against your brain. Each nail numbing a part of your thought process as motion catches your eye from beneath a side door to your right.

The door open illuminating the shadow as a hiss of your bracelets pierce into your skin, injecting you with something that pulls you under faster than the figure can appear before you.

"I think I need to lower the dosage doll. I want those pretty eyes to see their new home I've built." His voice echos in the darkness before all thought is lost to you.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

In Bakugou's moment of rage a thought occured to him. One that has floated through his mind for longer than he can remember.

If he wanted something to be done right then he ought to just do it his damnself.

His strong legs carry him down the stairs and winding halls to the records room. Like clockwork the attendant had left for his smoke break at exactly six o clock.

Something Bakugou had noticed years ago and filed away as possibly important.

Just in case he needed to borrow a file without having to check it out.

And he definitely doesn't anyone to know that he may or may not be looking for you.

Because they were more than likely going to try to stop him.

The hot head knew he had a least fifteen minutes, especially since the evening receptionist smoked at this time as the quiet record keeper. The basement dwelling attendant hoping to mac on the handsome receptionist in that short time.

Bakugou was thankful for the stupidity of others for once as he slipped into the records room with the spare key that was tapped beneath the desk.

The room is vast, reeking of mildew and damage paper mixed in with stained ink. He never understood why cases and records were filed manually instead of digitally but today he was grateful for the current CEO's laziness and the former CEO's aversion to both change and technology.

Older records are kept on steel shelves stacked in brown boxes that had to date back to the seventies or eighties while the more recent files were tucked away in half rusted filing cabinets, lining the musty brick walls.

There was no method to the company's madness, the records seemed to be filed haphazardly and more or less half assed over the years by someone whose dreams of being a hero hadn't fully flickered out.

But clearly they had settled for protecting rotting paper in favor of the public.

Bakugou growls as his eyes drag along each paper plaquer none in the exact order he needs. Some even slid into the metal casing upside down.

At least that's how he finds the one labeled "new hires 20XX". His cheeks hurt from his devilish grin before he yanks one of the doors open.

Again organization is thrown to the wind as files sit out of alphabetical order.

Chaotically mingling with one another having Bakugou grind his teeth.

Finally he finds your file, tattered and coffee stained as if someone revisited it quite often. He opens the Manila folder, more than ready to commit your address and whatever other information he could gain from the thick folder before an idea strikes him.

Would anyone even notice a missing file in this mess?

Hell it had taken him almost ten minutes to find and it wasn't as if the director was concerned with your well being.

His eyes narrow at your address, wondering why you chose to live in such a run down part of town before he slips the folder into the front of his pants swiftly covering it with his shirt.

He returns to the front of the record room, quietly shutting the cage door before he takes his gloved hand to the tape.

The door to the left stairwell clangs open. Two male voices echoing in the hall.

"I...I mean that's if...if you want to meet for drinks when you g..get off."

Bakugou rolls his eyes, deft fingers adhering the key back to its home just before the other make answers.

Delight in his voice that twists Bakugou's stomach in whole, green jealousy.

"I'd love to see you later. Until then." What could be a peck on the cheek follows as Bakugou slips into the opposite stairwell.

Wondering why the hell it seemed blossoming relationships came so easily to everyone around him.

His ribs throb as a reminder that that was something he would never have the privilege to experience as your voice echos in his head.

"We were never friends."

The mineola folder suddenly feels too hot against his skin, burning even. For a second he wonders why he is even doing this.

Why he's bothering himself with finding someone that clearly doesn't care for his company. He thinks to himself that he will just place the folder in his desk, that he'll abandon the notion of being a sleuth and return to his hot headed no fucks given ways.

But you whisper in his head once more with a weak, sleepy tone.

"Please stay, Katsuki."

Strengthening his resolve to find you once more.

[immortalbarnes]

A Cabin For Two | Chapter 3: You’ll Never Know

Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: Sam visits for  dinner, and you tell the story of how you and Bucky met.

warnings: SMUT! (you can skip it without missing anything), mild swearing and violence

A/N: sorry this is so late, but this is a pretty long one

***bold italicized indicates flashback

masterlist

Sam came over for dinner tonight, and brought an amazing potato salad. You and Bucky tried out a new chicken pot pie recipe, and even though you may have left it in the oven for a little too long because you were dancing to your Dick Haymes vinyl record, it was spectacular. The three of you, and Alpine when he jumped on the table, conversed for the night, then retired to your leather couch with some glasses of wine. The alcohol has no effect on you and your lover, but the feeling of normalcy made you happy enough.

“You know what I just realized,” Sam suddenly changes the subject, “I’ve never heard the story of how you two met. I mean I know it was during the war overseas, but I never got the details. Was Bucky a player back in the day?” His head bobs from left to right as he says player.

“He was!” You laugh.

“No way!” Sam leans forward in surprise, “Bucky had game?”

“I did,” Bucky chuckles, his arm resting behind you on the back of your leather sectional, “Before I got drafted, I was always dragging Steve on a double date. I thought the same charm would work on Y/N.”

“But it didn’t.” You interject, causing Sam to snort.

“Okay, okay, please start from the beginning.” Sam practically begs.

“Okay, well, we met overseas when I was working under Cap for the Howling Commandos.”

…

“Thank you for your hard work, Agent Y/N. Get some rest, you deserve it.” The general thanked you at the end of your meeting. You were a spy working for the Allies, and had just finished a mission gathering intel in a small town housing Hydra soldiers. You were in a camp stationed somewhere in Austria.

“Thank you, General, though I must admit I never get much sleep in those tents.” You joke.

“Well maybe you’d enjoy visiting with our special guests, The Howling Commandos.”

“Captain America’s boys? To what do we owe the pleasure of their visit to?”

“Well, Agent, your mission helped us gather intel on the whereabouts of Zola, so they’ll be staying with us for the next week until a train carrying the man comes through the mountains.”

“Glad to know my mission was to help such a cause,” You smile, and at that the general leaves to attend to more work. As for you, you had free time until your next mission, so you travel to the medical tent to visit one of the nurses you’ve befriended at this camp, Linda.

“Well, looky here! Agent Y/N is back! I was starting to think those Hydra fat-heads actually gotcha this time!” Linda exclaims as you enter the large awning.

“Good to see you too, Linda,” You laugh, “How’s it going?”

“Pretty swell until those Howling Commandos came in the other night. That Bucky fella won’t stop flirting with my ladies.”

“The nerve on him! As a soldier, he should know he shouldn’t be flirting with the staff.”

“Nevermind about him, tell me about your mission!”

You and Linda sat on a cot and you began to tell her everything you were allowed to, from the small village you stayed in to the base you infiltrated, even mentioning a part where you almost got captured, but thankfully you were able to charm your way out of that.

Just as you were finishing your story, a man and a nurse walked into the tent. The man, tall and muscular with clean cut brunette hair, had his arm around the girl’s waist and she was giggling at something he must’ve said.

“Mary! You’re late to your shift!” Linda snapped as she saw the duo walk in.

“Oh, Linda, don’t snap your cap! The tent’s empty!” Mary replied.

“Sorry for keeping her, ma’am, it won’t happen again.” The man apologized half-heartedly.

“Zip it, Barnes, I don’t care if you’re Captain America’s right hand man, you need to quit sneaking around with my girls! We got enough diseases flying through this camp, we don’t need you spreading something new.”

The man, who you now realized was the infamous Bucky Barnes, rolled his eyes with a smirk, kissed Mary on the cheek, and left the tent. Mary began to speak, but was quickly silenced by Linda’s harsh tone.

“I don’t want to hear it! You got tools to clean, so you better get to it!” She ordered, Mary meekly nodded and rushed to work, “What a creep, that must be the third girl he’s run off with, and they haven’t been here half a week!”

“Men like that make me wanna chuck.” You agreed.

…

“Damn, Buck, you were a tiger!” Sam laughed as you finished recalling your first encounter with your now lover.

You look over at Bucky, who was as red as a tomato, “I think she’s exaggerating a little.” He muttered.

“I remember every detail like the back of my hand.” You smirked, taking a sip of the ineffective alcohol.

…

Later that same night, you were in the mess hall, eating whatever muck the cooks said was dinner. At every camp you’ve been shipped to, you’ve always found friends among the soldiers. Even though you had your fair share of whistles and catcalls, there seemed to always be a nice group of men who saw you as their equal. Here it was Richard, David, and Charles. Richard and David were brothers, and Charles was their friend from school; they all enlisted together as soon as David, the youngest, turned 18.

Charles was in the middle of retelling the other night when Richard got too drunk off Astrian alcohol and got his tongue stuck on the flagpole in the middle of camp when a fifth person joined the group directly to your right. All heads at the table turned to see one Bucky Barnes.

“Sergeant, to what do we owe this honor to?” Charles said mockingly, while the Howling Commandos were national heroes, most soldiers just saw them as overrated.

“Couldn’t help but notice the dame sitting with you boys,” He said, turning to you, “Why aren’t you sitting with the other nurses, pretty lady?”

“Because she’s not a nurse,” David spoke up, even though he was the youngest of the bunch, he had no trouble defending any of you, “She’s a spy, and way out of your league.”

“I apologize for my assumptions,” Bucky says with a smirk, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you in my tent tonight.”

David was about to speak up again, but you butted in, “Sorry, Sergeant, but I’m not another one of your call-girls. So, you can knock off now.”

Bucky then leans his elbow on the wooden table, resting his head on his knuckle, and pouts, “You’re a tough one, Miss…”

“Agent L/N,” you correct, at this point there’s steam coming out of you, “Thank you, Barnes, but I’m not interested. I’m too focused on getting in and out of Hydra bases, as for you, you needed America’s Golden Boy to rescue you from one, so my friend here is right when he said I’m out of your league.” Tired of his harassment, you begin to stand and walk away, but he quickly follows suit and grabs your wrist pulling you around. Instinctively, you ball up your fist and hit him square on the jaw. Startled by the sudden action, he stumbles back and falls on the table.

At this point, everyone in the area is staring. Calmly you flip your hair behind your shoulder and turn to leave the mess hall. Exiting, you see none other than the Captain himself running over to check on his best friend, mouthing a sorry as he sees you.

…

“You PUNCHED him!?” Sam injects once more as you retell, “How did you even make eye contact with her after she knocked you INTO A TABLE!”

“Let’s just say that you don’t treat women anything like you did back then.” Bucky says, ashamed of his past self.

“Don’t worry, Sam, he made it up to me later that night.” You smirk.

…

Long after the incident, you were in your tent trying to fall asleep. Being the only non-nurse in the camp at the moment, you were blessed to have one to yourself, but as you mentioned before you always had trouble resting.

Trying to clear your head, you decide to exit the tent and take a walk in the chilly Austrian night. You immediately smell smoke and turn to see the faint glow of a fire not too far away. In search of the warmth, and maybe some company, you sneak your way to the source of the heat. Once you approach the fire, you are met with the back of Bucky Barnes once again.

“Can’t sleep either?” You inquire, slightly startling the man.

“Always been a light sleeper, and I can’t stop thinking about how rude I was to you earlier. Sorry about that, ma’am. I wanted to find you and apologize, but Steve advised that you needed to be alone.”

“Apology accepted, Barnes,” You sit down next to him and take in the warmth of the fire, “But I have to ask why you thought that was appropriate.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how else to approach a woman. Especially someone way out of my league, like your buddy said.”

“You didn’t leave a good impression in the first place when you walked in the med tent with your third nurse of the week adorning your side.”

“You were there!?” He says, shocked, “Oh, hell, Y/N, I didn’t know that was you with Linda! I’m so sorry! I thought you were still on your mission.”

“My mission? How’d you know about that?”

“Peggy Carter told us about your mission finding Zola, and when she showed me and the boys your picture, I swear I’ve never seen a prettier lady in all my life.” He admitted, throwing you off guard.

“Wow, Bucky, I’m flattered, but your plan was to sleep around with the nurses until I returned? Not a good first impression?”

His eyes went wide. “Sleep around? No, no, Y/N, I swear I haven’t done anything with those ladies! They’re the ones chasing me!” He pauses for a moment, “but I guess that’s the reputation I’ve been building for myself. But the truth is, Y/N, ever since Peggy told us about you, I haven’t even looked at another woman. You’re my dream gal.”

You stare intently in his blue eyes looking for any hint of charm. Maybe this was just a game to get in your skirt? As the crackling fire reflected in his eyes, all you could see was the truth.

…

“That is so cute!!” Sam interrupts, “Please tell me this is when you two fell in love.”

“Let me finish!” You scold playfully.

…

“Bucky… You’ve been waiting for me?” You say, finally taking in all his breathtaking features: his strong jaw, broad shoulders, perfect pink lips.

“How could  I not be? You’re strong, independent, gorgeous, and don’t fall at my feet like any other girl. What else could I want?”

Speechless, you just stare at him in awe, his baby blues returning the gesture. You stay like this for what feels like light years, until he finally speaks up again,

“May I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Please.”

And just like that, his lips are on yours. It’s passionate and hungry, like he’s been starved for days. You quickly return the emotions, melting in his touch. The fire was burning out, but you still felt sparks fly through you as your lips mend together. His large hands embrace you, his left on your cheek, the warm sensation of his skin on yours, and his right on your hip. Your arms snake around his neck and you feel his short hair prick at your wrists.

Out of air, you both pull back and rest your foreheads on one another, breathing hard as you notice there’s a huge smile plastered on his face when you sit back.

“You are the most dynamite gal I’ve ever met.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Barnes.” You say through heavy breaths. He chuckles at your snark.

“Totally worth the knuckle sandwich I got earlier.” he jokes.

“Sorry about that.”

“Nah, I deserved it.”

“How about you let me make it up to ya?” You wink.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking we put out this fire and go back to my tent.”

Hurriedly, you put out the remaining embers and lead him to your secluded tent. After making sure your neighbors were sound asleep, you practically ripped open your tent trying to get in, Bucky following suit.

As soon as he entered, he was on top of you, his lips claiming yours once more, and his arms on either side of you. Like before, this kiss was deep and passionate, but you felt something else within. Lust, perhaps?

“Wait, Bucky,” You suddenly tense up, pushing him off of you, “How do I know any of this is real? How do I know I’m not just another skirt?”

“Y/N, darling, for the past month since I first heard about ya, every girl that’s even talked to me made me wish it was you. You’re everything I want and more, doll, let me prove it to ya.” There’s a sadness in his eyes, like he’s hurt that you’d even think that. That look is everything you need to believe him.

With that reassurance, you climb up and straddle his lap, your hands going to his hair as you lean down and kiss him once more. His warm hands travel straight to your hips as he deepens the kiss, asking permission into your mouth, to which you eagerly accept.

His tongue explores your mouth with a passion, and you moan into it. Suddenly, you’re gasping for air once more and pull back. He practically growls at the sight of you, lipstick smeared and blouse wrinkled.

“Please doll, let me make love to ya, I’m begging ya.” His brooklyn accent peaking out as he talks in a low tone.

“Please do, Sergeant.” You pant.

As soon as those words leave your mouth, his eyes practically go black. He carefully lays you down and begins to undo the latches on his royal blue uniform jacket. As soon as his toned chest is revealed, he begins to work the buttons of your blouse, separating the front to expose your nude bra; next to go is your skirt, and you’re in nothing but your undergarments.

“Golly, doll, you are perfection.” He whispers in awe, he leans down to kiss your cleavage and begins to move lower and lower towards your underwear before going back up to his starting point between your breasts. Your hands reach down and start to fumble with the belt of his uniform pants. Noticing your struggle, he sits up to start to work the buckles undone and shimmies out of his muted green cargo pants and underwear

You had only an instant to take him in, thick thighs, toned calves, and a thick cock. Suddenly he was hovering over you once more, his hands expertly undoing your bra latches.

“You must have had practice.” You mock, receiving a shy chuckle from him.

He discards your bra, and you decide to handle your bottoms, quickly sliding them off and having them join the rest of your clothes. Now it’s his turn to admire you.

“Just when I thought this couldn’t get any better. Y/N Y/L/N, you are a goddess.” He praises you, a small blush reddening your cheeks. You just now noticed the slickness between your legs.

“Buc-”

“James, that’s my real name.”

“James, please take me.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in, making eye contact with you the entire time, his warm hands cradling your face. Your lips form a small ‘O’ as you feel him fill you up.

“J-James…” You quietly moan.

“Oh, Y/N, babydoll.” He whispers, slowly moving in and out of you. You’ve been with your fair share of men, but nothing could even come close to comparing to the feeling of James inside you.

He begins to pick up the pace, and his left hand travels down and instantly finds your clit. He begins to rub soft circles in time with the rhythm he is slamming into you. You’re on cloud nine. Eyes never leaving each other, his blue orbs leaving you in a daze.

Suddenly, you’re snapped out by the coil in your lower stomach tightening, signalling that you’re close to release.

“God, James, I’m so close.” And with that he picks up the pace, harshly slamming in and out while adding more pressure to your nub to bring out your orgasm.

“C’mon, doll, let it go for me.”

And with that, a wave of electricity, nothing like you’ve ever felt before, rushes through you. He continues to move within you to help you ride out your orgasm, both of you heavily panting.

Next thing you know, you feel him release inside of you. His hot white coating your insides.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.” He stutters, pulling out, “I couldn’t help my-”

“It’s fine,” you interject, “Thank you. Th-that was amazing, James.” You never saw yourself having kids, but now you could only see yourself starting a family with him.

All of a sudden, you were overwhelmed with the feeling of harsh cold, for coming out of your sexual haze, you realize that you’re stark naked with only a thin tent protecting you from the Austrian winter. You begin to shiver, and Bucky instinctively rushes to get you back into clothing and under a blanket. After you’re both dressed once more, he begins to get up and leave.

“Ja- uhm, Bucky, where are you going?”

“Back to my tent?”

“Stay please.”

“I never thought you’d say that.”

You invite him under your blanket and rest your head on his chest, his muscular arms enveloping you in even more warmth.

“Is it too early to say I love you?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“Not after all of that.” You joke.

“Well, Y/N, I love you.”

“I love you too, James.”

You always had trouble sleeping in tents, but that night you fell asleep instantly.

…

“You said I love you after you fucked in a tent!?” Sam pipes up, shocked, “That fast?”

“Well it was the 40’s, Sam, there wasn’t a ton of dating and getting to know each other. It was more like settle down quickly and start a family.” Bucky explains, “And that night, there was an unexplainable feeling there. I think we both felt it.” He looks intently at you, locking eyes, and you nod in agreement.

“How long did this go on?” Sam asks, even more interested.

“About a week,” You sigh, “We snuck around without most of the soldiers knowing. The only people we told were Steve, Linda, Richard, David, and Charles. My friends were a little iffy about it after those first couple of incidences, but when they saw us together they quickly supported it.”

“Steve knew how obsessed with her I was, so he was there for us from the beginning.” Bucky adds.

“About a week later, The Howling Commandos were sent on the train mission, the one I gathered intel for, and that was when Bucky fell and got captured by Hydra again. Steve and the guys returned and broke the news to me, and I lost it…”

…

It wasn’t too long until the group returned from the train. You didn’t care much about the outcome of the mission, for Bucky was your main concern.

Once you heard the news of their return, you ventured into the main tent to see the Commandos and the generals… but no Bucky.

You made eye contact with Steve, and his face instantly dropped, scaring you.

“Steve? How did the mission go? Where’s Bucky?”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you outside back into the freezing cold,

“We failed the mission. On the train we were ambushed by a soldier with major blasters, and he shot Bucky off the train. He fell into a ravine, and we couldn’t find his body… So we can only assume he died.”

No, it can’t be true. Pain hit your entire body as your eyes began to water, and suddenly, you were gasping for air. Steve grabbed you to keep you steady.

“No, Steve, please tell me you’re joking, please, PLEASE.” You were practically begging,

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Sergeant Barnes is dead.”

“NO! NO HE’S NOT! NOT MY BUCKY!” You screamed between jagged breaths.

“What’s going on here!?” A general demands as he exits the tent.

“He’s… gone…” You say quietly, trying to gather yourself.

“Agent Y/L/N? Did you and Sergeant Barnes have a fling?” The general asks.

“He was the love of my life!” You wretch, “We were supposed to start a family!”

“Y/N, you’ll be okay… We can get through this… He was my best friend.” Steve tries to calm you down.

“No, Steve, you don’t understand!” You grab his broad shoulders as your wild eyes meet his, “I’m pregnant.”

[forever-more-never-again]

Scales and Scars (Part Six)

Aizawa-Yamada [Y/n] - Given quirks through experimentation, thus their quirks are ‘Artificial’ and not considered ‘true’ quirks

First Quirk: Shadow Manipulation

Uses: Shadow manipulation allows the user to travel almost like teleportation from shadow to shadow by ‘sensing’ the shadows around the user. User is able to control the shadows and form objects. User can change the density of shadows. user also has excellent night vision.

Drawbacks: User experiences flashes of coldness from the presence of shadows, and if holds onto a shadow for too long will begin to develop frost bite.

Second Quirk: Dragon Shift

Uses: User can shift into a dragon, varying in size, and breath fire when in Dragon Form. It is a full shift, and user can not half-shift. Impressive strength in Dragon Form. Excellent vision and sense of smell. Large talons and teeth can break through almost any material.

Drawbacks: User cannot form coherent/rational thoughts while in dragon form and reverts to an animilistic and bloodthirsty mindset.

a/n:Second Quirk Revealed! And Part One of the Battle trail Arc!

Word Count: 2093

Pairings: Eraserhead(AIzawa) X PresentMic(Hizashi), Reader X Class1A (Will have multiple endings for pairings)

Warnings: violence against robots

Prologue / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Masterlist

Growing up with two pro heros as parents, you knew a lot of the other heroes in the city. And that worked at UA, but that didn’t mean you weren't surprised by some of the ideas that Nezu thought of. 

“What do you mean All Might will be teaching our heroics class?” Your chopsticks were frozen halfway to your mouth as you gaped at your dad across from the table where you were eating dinner.

His expression never changing, your dad took a bite of his katsudon before replying, “What I just said. Nezu hired the Oaf, I can’t do anything about it besides voice my displeasure about having him work at UA.”

Your Pa smiled at his husband, “I think it will be better than you think Kitten!” You faked gagged at the pet name, “He is the number one hero for a reason!”

Shota glared, “He is loud and obnoxious and has no concept of what it’s like to teach a bunch of teenagers Hizashi.”

You nodded along. You had never met All Might, and didn’t hold the same idolization that a lot of other kids your age did. You just never saw the point. Sure he was the number one hero, but he didn’t do anything more than the other heroes, and honestly underground heroes did more than he did.

So the next day, you walked into class, knowing that there would be screaming way to early to be allowed.

“Why do you look like someone killed your cats?”

Whipping around, you shot a glare so sharp that Iida noticeably shrank back and swallowed hard.

Hissing with Shinso, you both spoke in unison, “Never joke about killing Cats.”

Tokoyami hummed, “It’s weird how you both manage to do that anytime cats are mentioned.”

Again you and Shinso spoke together, “That’s because cats are amazing.”

Sharing a look, both you and Shinso broke out in quiet laughter.

Finally answering Iida, whispering softly so that your other friends and classmates wouldn’t overhear, “I’m upset because I know what’s going to happen today in class and I am not fond of it.”

Iida nodded once. He was the only one in class who knew who your parents were. It was kinda hard not to when his older brother were your parents friends and they would come over all the time when you were both younger.

Taking your seat, you looked to the front of the class. And narrowed your eyes. Broccoli head, Midoriya, was chattering with infinity girl. Which wouldn’t be an issue, if you didn’t notice how tense Explosion boy was and the slight smoke that was coming off his desk where his fists were clenched.

Before you could say anything, the door slammed open and everyone screamed as All Might walked in, “I AM HERE WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!”

You had to swallow a snort. If that’s how All Might thought normal people entered, you had to question who he hung out with.

You caught snippets of your classmates whispered shouts.

“That his Silver Age costume!”

“All Might is teaching here!?”

“The number one Hero!”

“Of course, only the best for UA!”

All Might smiled broadly standing at the podium and when the class finally quieted down, he whipped out a board with the words ‘Battle Training’ on it.

“It’s time to put you budding heroes to the test!” A wall slides out showing a bunch of numbered silver cases. “These are your costumes made with your suggestions in mind! Change and meet at BattleGrounds B!”

Waiting for the rush of students to slow, you made your way to your case, apprehensive.

You had spent days designing your costume. Taking both of your parents advice in, and your aunt’s. Though Nemuri’s advice was a little too risque for your tastes.

In the changing room, you smiled at your friends obvious excitement.

Ducking into a bathroom stall, you took a deep breath. And then opened your case.

“Oh my god.” A breath of air left you in a rush. It was perfect.

A Black bodysuit with Gold detailing around your wrists, ankles, neck, waist, and thighs, and a Black mask that felt like a second skin over your eyes with Gold loops around your ears holding it in place. And the Black combat boots with Gold Soles. 

A note fluttered out from the bottom of the case as you finished putting the suit on.

‘Hi there! I designed this Baby and I hope you like it! The suit is made from a tough yet flexible material! Your request was a little tricky! But The gold detailing is actually a smart mechanism! So when you ‘Shift’ It will retract the black so that it doesn't tear away and the gold itself will stretch around your body in the designated locations on the suit. Any upgrades or questions just come to the support Class and ask for me!

Sincerely,

Hatsume Mei!’

Your heart rate sped up a little, knowing that one more person out there knew about your second quirk. Fearing that they might talk about it, share it with others.

You had disavowed using it, but your Dad had made a good point when designing your costume, what if something happened and the shift was triggered? You didn’t want to end up naked at the scene of a fight.

The feeling of disgust and shame lingered though. Dragon Shift. The quirk that had gained you the nickname Useless Monster from the villains that had you for years. The Quirk you hated with your entire being because it was true. It was a monster Quirk, A villains quirk.

To change into a giant, black scaled, fire breathing dragon that could topple cities and burn people alive...it wasn’t something you wanted to be associated with.

But it was a quirk that the villain’s scientist had concocted for their leader. That had been injected into you. For you to harness and use so that when Sensei took it away for himself he already had it mastered.

Swallowing down your bile, you finished getting dressed and ran out from the locker room, everyone already gone.

Squinting past the bright sunlight, coming out from the tunnel leading to battleground B, your eyes widened as you took in everyone's costumes.

“Damn [Y/n]...You look, uh, good.” Turning your head, you saw Shinso standing by you, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

You smiled at him, “Your costume looks good too!” And it did.

He wore a black tracksuit that you knew was inspired by Eraserhead, which had you internally laughing your head off. He had a voice changer and wraps around his arms. 

“Ah! Yamada! You’ve been hiding this body from us!” Your vision was suddenly invaded by Pink as Ashido jumped onto you, her arms wrapping around your neck.

Laughing self-consciously, you pried the affectionate girl off of you in time to see almost every guy in the class flush a light pink and turn away.

“Alright Ya bunch of Zygotes! Battle Training! Today we will be doing indoor battles, Heroes Versus Villains! There will be a nuclear bomb inside the building that the Villains must defend. Winners are decided by the Heroes capturing the Villains, touching the Bomb, or the Villains capturing the Heroes or running down the clock! You will have fifteen minutes once the heroes enter! Now, I’ll be drawing groups! Get ready!”

Everyone passed around pieces of paper with letters on it. Once everyone had a letter, All Might reached into two boxes, one labeled heroes, the other Villains.

“Alright! First up! Group B Will be the Heroes and Group D will be the Villains!”

Everyone checked their letters, and you breathed a sigh of relief that you were not in either. 

Glancing around, you saw the four people who would start off the training.

Walking up to Midoriya, you nudged his shoulder knocking him out of his dazed state.

Smiling, “Hey Midoriya! Your costume is super cute! Kinda like a bunny!” Your eyes squinted as you flashed a blinding smile, tilting your head.

Midoriya flushed a deep red and his eyes looked at the ground, “Yo-you look...look good t-too Yamada!”

Giving him a thumbs up, you left him to strategize as Uraraka came over.

As you walked behind the class to go to the viewing room, you passed the angry blonde. Bakugou, you reminded yourself.

You stopped next to him for a moment. He turned, a snarl on his face.

“What do you want Shitty girl!?”

You frowned at him, but had to focus to make sure you didn’t look at his body. His costume showcased his assets really well and you didn’t need him to know that you liked it.

“Just wanted to wish you luck Baka-gou.” 

Walking away before he could react, you smirked as you heard him scream and yell back at you, “I don’t need your luck! I’ll be number one!”

Once in the viewing area, you gravitated towards Tokoyami and Shinso who stood near the back.

Gaining a nod from the cloaked avian teen and a lazy grin from the purplinette, you put your attention to the giant two screens on the wall across from you.

The fight was nothing like you expected it to be. Half the time you were holding your breath in worry for the Broccoli boy, and the others you were snarling at blonde explosion kid.

Though you couldn’t deny the energy in their fight and how your blood began to race in anticipation for your own fight.

The first fight ended with Midoriya being carted off to recovery girl and Bakugou being silent.

No one else seemed to see it, or find it odd. But you could. You caught his eyes before he looked away once he entered the viewing room, that second was all you needed to know that he was suffering through a panic attack.

Slipping unnoticed, you tugged the silent boy into a hallway.

He ripped his arm out of your grasp and glared at you, but it lacked the usual heat.

His body was trembling, but you could tell he was trying to restrain them.

“What do you want Shitty Girl?” His voice was more subdued too.

Knowing he wouldn’t react well to pity, you simply shrug your shoulders and glanced down the hallway, not making eye contact. From the corner of your eye you saw him relax a touch.

“Thought you would like a breather after that intense fight.”

He made a tsking noise with his tongue and folded his arms across his chest, his gauntlets off after the fight.

“I’m fucking fine alright. I don’t need your fucking help or pity!”

At that you turned your gaze back to him and your eyes clashed with swirling red lava, “I’m not fucking pitying you!”

Your crass language seemed to startle him for a moment, as if he thought you wouldn’t curse.

Taking a deep breathe, you frowned at him, “I know a thing or two about panic attacks, alright asshole.”

He opened his mouth, his eyes hardening and you saw his hands clenched against his arms.

You interrupted him before he could utter a word, your arms coming up to cage him against the wall, “And don’t you dare say you don’t have panic attacks! You were fucking panicking after Midoriya’s stupid stunt back there! No one else noticed! But me! And you will listen to me and you will fucking take my help because No one helped me through my first panic attack and it fucked me up! Okay!?”

Your rant ended, and you finally noticed the position the both of you were in.

Your body was almost pressed up against his, his arms resting on your hips, them having moved in shock when you had lunged forward.

Your hands were flat on the wall beside his head, your breath ruffling his hair.

Bakugou’s cheeks were dusted with a light pink and his eyes were looking past you to the opposite wall.

Jumping back as if electrocuted, you decided not to mention it. Dusting off your catsuit like nothing had happened, you turned away to head back into the viewing room.

Right before opening the door, you turned your head slightly and spoke over your shoulder to the silent teen, “It’s not weak to ask for help, Bakugou. I wish I had asked for help sooner…”

And with that you went back to the rest of the class just in time to watch Todoroki freeze the entire building.

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[polygamyff]

57.

I woke up early, I was in pain. But it’s a new day and I am back in bed with Robyn but yet I am awake even before Reign is awake, pulling my sweatpants up before grabbing my tee and making my way around the bed, this room is a mess with suitcases and this is why I tell Robyn to get my things out because I won’t know shit, grabbing the covers and place it over Robyn. I really flung that cover over when I got out of bed and exposed her legs, smiling down at Robyn sleeping. It’s nice to be back with her, I was not feeling that shit at all. Opening the bedroom door before creeping out slowly, closing the door behind me “morning” I gasped “what the hell..” I said, Terry out here scaring me “sorry” she apologised “It’s ok” she walked by me and went into the bathroom, great now I wanted that. I guess I will have to just wait it out, placing my tee over my head as I jogged down the steps. I have to get my suit fitting today, then tomorrow it’s show time, so I am feeling it, I am feeling nervous about it. I think I like that my dad is there and in charge, to know I am the person they will call too, the person that is the safety net now, it’s just scary for me. My dad has just made me for this, I am trying. I am trying to not show too many feelings, but I can’t, looking down at my phone. I knew Ally would be awake, I logged into my email “morning” I answered the call “morning” sitting down on the couch “you need to still meet your dad at the ballroom place, and the suit fitting. I told Jay, both Wade and Jay will be there. You have a telephone call with your doctor today, he will ring you at nine. And the information you wanted, you are right, nobody has paid for the hotel bookings, it is on your dad. Also, gossip time. Tiffany is here with Royal, demanded a hotel room. Kellen gave up his room, she made a scene so that is why you got a missed call from the hotel. I was going to send her away, she was being irrational saying my son is family, she has no invite but looks like Kellen is obeying, but that is it in regards to drama, Tiffany is around claiming family and that her son is owed a life” here we go “right, she is an issue to be honest” I mumbled “her and some friends of hers that have come too, Kellen has dealt with it but he hasn’t, so whatever you like to do with that, do it” I don’t like to do anything but here we go “ok, thank you. I will try and answer my doctor’s call” I chuckled “I try to avoid his ass but keep in contact” disconnecting the call.

I cooed out “aww thank you so much Terry, breakfast fit for a king. Like you didn’t need too at all” Terry is out here making me chick and waffles for me “well when my son in law is here, I need to spoil him” smelling the waffles “oh wow, this smells so good. May be better then Robyn’ but don’t speak on that to her” I chuckled, this is so nice “well her mother taught her, so of course she can cook” Terry sat across from me “it’s nice that you are back in the home, you both have worked it out. I did hear you both in the early hours, so I am shocked you are awake” I feel so alive, it’s weird “I slept and then woke up, when I have something on I don’t really sleep. Probably how I deal with stress I suppose but yeah, Robyn and I spoke on it. We good now, I didn’t want us to fall out anyways, but we did” I wonder why Terry is awake actually “do you have work or something?” I mean she must do “I do but I have other dealings, I am proceeding with divorce with Thomas. So that day when you both went to see Rell’ family, I decided to try and see Thomas after everything. We spoke, like adults and his ways have not changed. We spoke, we agreed, I had a little cry but I think” Terry drifted off “I think it’s for the best, he was suppose to make things right and he didn’t so I am doing it because he won’t. The thing is which I knew. This home is his but also he is claiming emotional distress and taking aim at you now and wants to push it, so in a way I will probably give this home away” I am shocked “oh wow, I can help you?” Terry put her hand up shaking her head “this is my battle, but I needed to tell my daughter that, but she was busy, and she needed me, so yes. I guess I will be single” Terry smiled “and you look happy, you are incredibly beautiful. You can get another man Terry; I promise that I know people” Terry is laughing but I am right.

“I am ok Maurice; I need to get over this divorce first. Spending your life with someone for what. Twenty seven years, for them to just do that. It’s hard, I would be lying to myself if I didn’t say that I love him because I did, he treated us well, he did but he just can’t accept my son in law. I don’t even think he could accept any man with Robyn, he was very controlling with men when it came to her” pulling a face “maybe he liked her himself” it just came out of my mouth, I regretted it as soon as I said it “ignore me, I just don’t think. I am so stupid, I don’t want to think of that, not in that way anyways” I just don’t know why I had to say it because at the end of the day, that is her husband and I mean, that is weird “sorry” I apologised “it’s good to express feelings, I am not angry about it Maurice. I am not sure his intentions because he changed, he didn’t really like any man with Robyn so yeah, it’s been a long time coming but he’s lost me” Terry smiled which made me smile “that is what I like to see, you have a reason to smile. You’re a beautiful black woman that has new beginnings to come Terry, you got this, and I am here for you. I know a lot of people and my door is open for you. Don’t be hard headed and prideful, I am not taking pity but you are a good person and a vibe I like, I would like you to come with us, you’re the best mother in law and you’re so loving but move to New York” Terry looked at me in awe “you’re making me emotional, stop it” she waved me off “eat your food too” Terry pointed at me “but I am being real, Robyn worries for you a lot. She doesn’t want you to be alone here, Reign adores you. And with Robyn being the emotional wreck she is, she needs you. Look I am planning for future, for like years ahead of me. When Reign would be twenty, I also think of Robyn. Terry, I am living this, I know me. I know my body; I know I am not well. No matter what I do now, what I try to salvage. I mean I probably have helped myself now, gave myself a few years, I went on years of abusing myself and it’s a shock I am here, but I would like you to be in New York, Robyn needs you as much as I do. I may end up like my pops, injecting myself to stay up but I would like to know my Bonita is ok with you, she is sensitive about it and like I am not blind and stupid, but if you feel like your life is here, that is fine but you are needed. I just want you to know that” Terry nodded her head “that makes me sad, but please eat” she pointed, my food is getting cold.

Placing my drink of OJ down “this was so nice, thank you. Compliments to the chief” Terry smiled “thank you, I can tell you enjoyed it but I need to get ready for work now. Well I need to wash up and then go” watching Terry get up from the chair “I don’t mind doing it?” I offered “no it’s ok, you don’t need too” getting up from the chair also “I will just go and gather my things, I need to visit my hotel quickly. I can drop you off at work?” I gestured “I actually I will, I don’t want to hear no. I will get changed, don’t be like that” Terry keeps laughing “well it would be nice to talk to you further, thank you Maurice. I will wash the dishes” let me jog up the steps and get my things on “thank you so much” jogging up the steps “it’s ok!” I shouted, I mean I can imagine we are going the same way anyways; I just need to pick up some paperwork and then that is it. My doctor should ring in between that, opening the bedroom door seeing Robyn asleep still. I was going to wake her but then decided against it, I will just make sure the baby monitor is next to her and I will text her that I will be back, I did say I would take Robyn suit shopping with me.

Unlocking my car door “taking my mother in law in my car” I said while laughing “it will be nice to sit in such a nice car” walking around my car “it ain’t nothing Terry, this car is ok” I played it off, opening my car door as I sat in “is your place of work close by my hotel? I hope it is now” putting the car engine “it is, it’s like ten minute drive away” putting my car in reverse “you say that Robyn is sensitive in regards to what you have, but it’s upset me to hear you say that. I know people can live normal lives, that can be you?” turning my steering wheel as I drove off “my dad didn’t have drugs, drink his life away and snorted a line on the side and then lit a cigarette on top of that. I did everything opposite, I abused myself so much. It’s taken years from me, you know like my dad he drinks here and there, and he does at times smoke, he was well I don’t know now but he wasn’t affected by that. I do something like drink and smoke, and I am flaring up in pain, my body has had enough, and I feel it, I do. I wish there was a cure, but I just don’t know. When I first got with Robyn and then Reign was a baby, I would cry about it. I would hate the thought of not being here, it was depressing me and playing with my mind. I have to keep positive, because I mean I am not sure if you know with Sick Cell Anaemia it’s not good for my mental health, like now I know tonight I will be tired because I didn’t sleep. I am stressed out of my ass right now; I can’t stop that from happening. I had to stop something, I have to look forward and pray that I am here for my kids and Robyn” stopping at the red light “seems to me like you have accepted the inevitable Maurice” looking over at Terry “I think you right, I had too Terry. It was getting me down; I was feeling it. I know that with me trying to be better, live better I can do ok, but I have to plan out my life, I have to plan to the future. I just hope I get to show Reign how to handle the business” I chuckled “she can, I am telling you now. She can do it right now, behind her little sassy walk away and babbling, she is telling us off” Terry and I laughed “I think she got the boss trait already, that girl is going to change the world” Reign, I see her doing so much for the world.

Interesting to see where Terry works “is this rehab?” I pointed at the building “not exactly, I counsel people. Including my daughter with her meltdowns but thank you for dropping me off here at work but I just wanted to say that. I believe you can overcome this, it just worries me that the bigger you get the more stressed you will get” I sighed out “comes with the job, don’t it? But with you around, you can help me” I laughed “you need to quit that, I am going now. You have a good day” Terry got out of the car “oohhh girl, you riding around in a Bentley now? Is this your driver” looking at this lady “no, and this is Robyn’ fiancé. He dropped me off” waving at the lady “oh, he is handsome. Hey” she waved back “anyways, I got to go. She is a co-worker. Bye” waving at Terry, my phone started to ring. My doctor doesn’t waste a minute, right on time. Answering the call “hello grim reaper” I said laughing “why do you continue to call me that Maurice, you’re a hard person to contact actually. I had to pencil myself in with your assistant. Where are you currently?” he asked “in Cali, business to attend” I kind of know what he wants from me “when you have your episodes we like to periodically give you transfusions so you maintain a healthy proportion of normal to sickle red blood cells, you can’t say to me that you are worried and then cancel twice. I can book you in somewhere in Cali, private and get it done. It needs to be done, I am sure it will fix the pain you feel, probably right now. And we both laugh and joke but you need to start listening, business can wait. You cancelled twice, 4 hours solves a lot more” blowing out air, I have a busy schedule “you know I have a lot going on” I mean what do I do “I need you to do this, I am not giving you a choice. This is for your own good, ok you are not having a crisis but it will end up being it the more you prolong it” I hate having it, I never liked it to begin with me “fine” I mumbled.

[the-accidentals]

Chapter 1

Laura walked in through the door of her shoddy apartment, the lights flickering on as she slumped down on her stained sofa, she wanted to order takeaway but knew she didn't have the money, life was way to expensive and this week had been a pile of horse shit if any one had been, her car was in the garage after it broke down a couple days ago, the bill was so high she would need to not eat for a month. Before getting off shift today she had seen a family of five burn, only 2 getting out alive, a baby and the father. She tried to not let her job get to her but fighting fires was the easiest part, watching the families as they realise that not everyone made it is the worst, you can feel the guilt in the air. We are trained to move on, you can't take every death personally or it kills you from the inside but whenever i see a family torn apart so abruptly the worry stays on my heart, seeing happy families destroyed was definitely the worst part of her job but laura still loved the job and everyone struggles with it so she just tries to leave the worry at work,but today it followed her home, there was just something about today, the fire had started in the oldests room, probably faulty electrics, she was barely out of primary school, just starting to think she was a grown up, it had already killed the middle kid by the time anyone realised and the mother just breathed in to much smoke, it was come and go for a bit but in the end she didn't even make it to the hospital. A happy family reduced to two, a morning father and a 2 month old girl, how she survived I don't know. All that innocence and such young lives torn away so quickly.

Laura stood up shaking her head, it's not good to stay focused on the bad things, noodles and beer and an early night and she can sort everything else out in the morning.She has parents she can beg for money,they won't be happy but they wont let her starve,she just wishes she didn't have to call. For tonight she resigned herself to the sofa with a bottle of cheap beer and some veg noodles, strolling through the internet. Eventually the sun was long gone and the shame came creeping back, she was sitting here running from her responsibilities with beer, noodles and a blanket around her, just trying to hide away on the internet, she was a grown woman, an adult. She closed down reddit and opened her emails, this was an adult thing, she could clear her inbox. Ad,ad,ad,scam,ad,ad, important thing she should of replied too, she was trying to be grown up but that was slightly too grown up, ad, bank statement, don't want to look at that, oh nice easy one, the unit chief is trying to set up a quiz night, he needs to know when i'm free, i can do that. After a couple minutes of checking her calendar, which was embarrassingly empty she had formed an adult but chill response. There! She had been an adult, she had written an email and deleted a few more. She scanned over the rest hoping they could wait a few more days until a quiet moment at work, one caught her eye, an email from a trial company, she did a couple of studies a few years back to get some extra cash and extra cash was just what she needed, she looked into it, it was a medical study looking into a mental health drug, they needed people with diagnosed mental illness so she knew she would fit right in. Drug trials were not her thing but the pay was pretty good, two injections a week, £50 each, it lasted 12 months but you could leave whenever, just under £5,000 for the whole year, she probably wouldn't hang on that long but long enough that she could fix her beat up honda and still eat. Honestly how could she resist? The testing facility was a 15 minute walk away from the fire station as well. Fuck me if was perefect, no nagging from anyone about “being an adult” and “looking after your finances”. Laura finally went to bed that night, slightly tipsy, exhausted but slightly less stressed.

Laura had 2 days until she got paid and she had her first appointment for the trial today, it was a rolling study so there was no set start date. She had promised steve, the mechanic down the road, that he would get paid the bill as soon as she got paid so that he would carry on working with no money upfront, to be honest he totally owned lorna one, she had set him up with an ex of hers about a year back and she had never seen him happier. She walked up to a little privately owned clinic that she had never noticed before, it was smart but felt way to clinical, the lights were so bright it burnt and like all of these places the smell of cleaner was so strong you could taste it, she popped her phone into the pocket of her oversized jacket as she came to the front desk, the lady at the desk looked he up and down, I suppose she didn't really look like she belonged, it didn't look like a cheap sort of place.” hi i'm here for the trial, umm laura burmwell” laura muttered into the ground,she hated reception staff, they always seemed super judgy and this lady was no different, she tapped away at her screen for a few very awkward moments and sighed, pointing me to a section of chairs near the back. Pulling her earphones out she landed in a seat.

“Dont worry she wasn't very nice to me either” a voice chucked next to her, a small grinning woman sat there tapping on her phone, laura smiled back, she was gorgeous, long black hair down to her waist, out shining laura’s dirty blonde mess any day.

“ I’m glad she doesn't just hate me” Lorna joked, internally panicking. Why is such a cute woman actually talking to me? She suddenly felt amazingly underdressed, she was sat next to a stunning women who was clearly ready to go to work in a nice yellow dress and a jacket and she is there look like a gay hobo, hair up in yesterdays bun and a t shirt that has dinosaurs on it, at she is wearing smartish jeans. “I’m laura, are you here for the study?” she smiled.

“Preet, yeah, i'm hoping they can cure the fuckery going on in my head before the end of it” she chuckled but I could see the blush forming over her skin as she processed what she had said, Laura just snorted, tapping her leg on the linoleum floor, trying to think of something to say, her mind in overdrive.

“ nervous?” Preet questioned.

“i just haven't been in a drug trial for years, what if I grow four heads or something?” She joked, Preet actually burst out laughing, tears starting to form in her eyes, which got Laura laughing too, they just sat there trying to hide there laughter from the rest of the very serious looking members of the waiting room, finally after about 5 minutes they both calmed down enough to speak, laughter still glistening in their eyes.

“ but seriously these drugs will of been tested for years before it gets to these sorts of tests, its perfectly safe, they are just proving it and checking out side effects, im sure you wont grow any more heads.” At that moment Preets name was called over the speaker system, Secretly both of them were hoping they had been forgotten about so they could sit here and chat all day but neither of them said it.

“See you later Laura” Preet called as she picked up her stuff and started to follow the now waiting nurse.

Lorna went back to her music, trying to pull a stupid grin off her face.

1941- September 5th

I walked into surgery, on the bench was the patient, a young soldier, barley 19. He was burning up. Nurse Weber was standing there, trying to cool him down while setting up. He had a gun wound that was starting to get infected and the bullet had yet been removed. We set to work, removing infected tissue and finding bits of the shattered bullet but further we got the more futile it became, he kept losing blood and nothing we could do would keep his temperature down, he was pretty much dead in front of us. The nurse looked up, exhaustion in every wrinkle in her face, defeat in her eyes, im sure she had been on duty when he came on, over 10 hours earlier. With an air of defect I started sawing him up, giving him a dose of penicillin and covering the wound with gauze. I doubt he would make the night but we had tried. I removed my bloodied gloves and left. Hoping to be able to rest now. My eyes started over at the dying children and men who fill the halls. when will the war end, when will the suffering stop, have not enough died for the righteous cause? I started towards the boards, I was still on duty for another few days before I could head home. As i passed through the corridors i passed a officer asking about his son, every has someone fighting in this war to end all wars, he came to a halt in front of me desperately asking for his sons conduction, i had treated him when he first got brought in, he was going to make it but he no longer had a left leg, a bomb had hit near trench and had impaled his leg. As he quickly dismissed me, relief clear on his face, you could clearly see the shine on his Swastika pin. “Heil Hitler” I murmured as he marched away into the chaos

This is the first part of a longer story and my first time doing any serious writing, any advice welcome! I know it isn't perfect but I tried so I hope you enjoy it xx

[wuzzybear]

The Accidentals- A bad fucking week. part 1

A group of broke adults join a medical trial hoping for some easy cash but instead get a lot more than what they wanted. There is something bad at play and they need to work it out if they ever want to be normal, not that they were normal before.

 Laura walked in through the door of her shoddy apartment, the lights flickering on as she slumped down on her stained sofa, she wanted to order takeaway but knew she didn't have the money, life was way to expensive and this week had been a pile of horse shit if any one had been, her car was in the garage after it broke down a couple days ago, the bill was so high she would need to not eat for a month.  Before getting off shift today she had seen a family of five burn, only 2 getting out alive, a baby and the father.  She tried to not let her job get to her but fighting fires was the easiest part, watching the families as they realise that not everyone made it is the worst, you can feel the guilt in the air. We are trained to move on, you can't take every death personally or it kills you from the inside but whenever i see a family torn apart so abruptly the worry stays on my heart, seeing happy families destroyed was definitely the worst part of her job but laura still loved the job and everyone struggles with it so she just tries to leave the worry at work,but today it followed her home, there was just something about today, the fire had started in the oldest’s room, probably faulty electrics, she was barely out of primary school, just starting to think she was a grown up, it had already killed the middle kid by the time anyone realised and the mother just breathed in to much smoke, it was come and go for a bit but in the end she didn't even make it to the hospital. A happy family reduced to two, a morning father and a 2 month old girl, how she survived I don't know. All that innocence and such young lives torn away so quickly. 

 Laura stood up shaking her head, it's not good to stay focused on the bad things, noodles and beer and an early night and she can sort everything else out in the morning.She has parents she can beg for money,they won't be happy but they wont let her starve,she just wishes she didn't have to call.  For tonight she resigned herself to the sofa with a bottle of cheap beer and some veg noodles, strolling through the internet. Eventually the sun was long gone and the shame came creeping back, she was sitting here running from her responsibilities with beer, noodles and a blanket around her, just trying to hide away on the internet, she was a grown woman, an adult. She closed down Reddit and opened her emails, this was an adult thing, she could clear her inbox. Ad,ad,ad,scam,ad,ad, important thing she should of replied too, she was trying to be grown up but that was slightly too grown up, ad, bank statement, don't want to look at that, oh nice easy one, the unit chief is trying to set up a quiz night, he needs to know when i'm free, i can do that. After a couple minutes of checking her calendar, which was embarrassingly empty she had formed an adult but chill response. There! She had been an adult, she had written an email and deleted a few more. She scanned over the rest hoping they could wait a few more days until a quiet moment at work, one caught her eye, an email from a trial company, she did a couple of studies a few years back to get some extra cash and extra cash was just what she needed, she looked into it, it was a medical study looking into a mental health drug, they needed people with diagnosed mental illness so she knew she would fit right in. Drug trials were not her thing but the pay was pretty good, two injections a week, £50 each, it lasted 12 months but you could leave whenever, just under £5,000 for the whole year, she probably wouldn't hang on that long but long enough that she could fix her beat up Honda and still eat. Honestly how could she resist? The testing facility was a 15 minute walk away from the fire station as well. Fuck me if was perfect, no nagging from anyone about “being an adult” and “looking after your finances”. Laura finally went to bed that night, slightly tipsy, exhausted but slightly less stressed.

Laura had 2 days until she got paid and she had her first appointment for the trial today, it was a rolling study so there was no set start date. She had promised Steve, the mechanic down the road, that he would get paid the bill as soon as she got paid so that he would carry on working with no money upfront, to be honest he totally owned Laura one, she had set him up with an ex of hers about a year back and she had never seen him happier. She walked up to a little privately owned clinic that she had never noticed before, it was smart but felt way to clinical, the lights were so bright it burnt and like all of these places the smell of cleaner was so strong you could taste it, she popped her phone into the pocket of her oversized jacket as she came to the front desk, the lady at the desk looked he up and down, I suppose she didn't really look like she belonged, it didn't look like a cheap sort of place.” hi i'm here for the trial, umm.. Laura Burmwell” Laura muttered into the ground,she hated reception staff, they always seemed super judgy and this lady was no different, she tapped away at her screen for a few very awkward moments and sighed, pointing me to a section of chairs near the back. Pulling her earphones out she landed in a seat. 

“Don’t worry she wasn't very nice to me either” a voice chucked next to her, a small grinning woman sat there tapping on her phone, Laura smiled back, she was gorgeous, long black hair down to her waist, out shining Laura's dirty blonde mess any day.

 “I’m glad she doesn't just hate me” Lorna joked, internally panicking. Why is such a cute woman actually talking to me? She suddenly felt amazingly under dressed, she was sat next to a stunning women who was clearly ready to go to work in a nice yellow dress and a jacket and she is there look like a gay hobo, hair up in yesterdays bun and a t shirt that has dinosaurs on it, at she is wearing smartish jeans. “I’m Laura, are you here for the study?” she smiled. 

“Preet, yeah, i'm hoping they can cure the fuckery going on in my head before the end of it” she chuckled but I could see the blush forming over her skin as she processed what she had said, Laura just snorted, tapping her leg on the linoleum floor, trying to think of something to say, her mind in overdrive.

“Nervous?” Preet questioned.

 “i just haven't been in a drug trial for years, what if I grow four heads or something?” She joked, Preet actually burst out laughing, tears starting to form in her eyes, which got Laura laughing too, they just sat there trying to hide there laughter from the rest of the very serious looking members of the waiting room, finally after about 5 minutes they both calmed down enough to speak, laughter still glistening in their eyes.

“ but seriously these drugs will of been tested for years before it gets to these sorts of tests, its perfectly safe, they are just proving it and checking out side effects, I’m sure you wont grow any more heads.”  At that moment Preet’s name was called over the speaker system, Secretly both of them were hoping they had been forgotten about so they could sit here and chat all day but neither of them said it. 

“See you later Laura” Preet called as she picked up her stuff and started to follow the now waiting nurse. 

Lorna went back to her music, trying to pull a stupid grin off her face. 

1941- September 5th

I walked into surgery, on the bench was the patient, a young soldier, barley 19. He was burning up. Nurse Weber was standing there, trying to cool him down while setting up. He had a gun wound that was starting to get infected and the bullet had yet been removed. We set to work, removing infected tissue and finding bits of the shattered bullet but further we got the more futile it became, he kept losing blood and nothing we could do would keep his temperature down, he was pretty much dead in front of us. The nurse looked up, exhaustion in every wrinkle in her face, defeat in her eyes, I’m sure she had been on duty when he came on, over 10 hours earlier. With an air of defect  I started sawing him up, giving him a dose of penicillin and covering the wound with gauze. I doubt he would make the night but we had tried. I removed my bloodied gloves and left. Hoping to be able to rest now. My eyes started over at the dying children and men who fill the halls. when will the war end, when will the suffering stop, have not enough died for the righteous cause? I started towards the boards, I was still on duty for another few days before I could head home. As i passed through the corridors i passed a officer asking about his son, every has someone fighting in this war to end all wars, he came to a halt in front of me desperately asking for his sons condition, i had treated him when he first got brought in, he was going to make it but he no longer had a left leg, a bomb had hit near trench and had impaled his leg. As he quickly dismissed me, relief clear on his face, you could clearly see the shine on his Swastika pin. “Heil Hitler” I murmured as he marched away into the chaos.

This is my first attempt writing, please tell me how to improve! this is the first part of a longer story.

[scribblesofanaricat]

The Middle

(title taken from the Jimmy Eat World song of the same name (I posted this yesterday and then realised it was the rough unedited version, so I panic-deleted it hhhhhh- ;-;))

~

Louise has always liked the sound doors make when slammed. To her, the way it rings out shouts on her behalf for the world to go to Hell.

It’s her so-called kitchen cupboards this time, each one jerked open and then flung shut at least twice over, as if something worth eating will magically materialise in there if she just looks again. As if she hasn’t gone through this whole song and dance a hundred times by now.

Stupid.

In the end, she resigns herself to shoving a couple of squashed, half-stale pieces of bread into the clunky toaster, arms aching up to her shoulders in protest. Just another day. Hours and hours of getting pushed around by managers who wear their fancy watches like the bloody crown jewels, made to take care of other people’s work as well as her own without a word of thanks, screamed and sworn at down the phone over things that’re (well) above her pay grade – and, worse than anything, called by that name, the one she’s told them isn’t hers…but it conveniently keeps slipping their minds anyway.

So the usual crap, really.

A crooked smile tugs at the corners of Louise’s lips. All of that – day in, day out – for the sake of this shoebox of a flat, not worth the paper the lease was drawn up on, and whatever’s on clearance at the supermarket. It’s so stupid.

But…maybe not for much longer. Maybe. She rubs the bridge of her nose between stiff fingers, her mind turning its back on the never-ending daily grind, on the limp combover of the mouth-breathing landlord who’d make a better magpie than a human and the gutters clogged with burnt-out cigarette ends and dirty needles. It wanders through new lands of the kind that’ve sneered down at people like her for so long. New streets she can stroll down without snotty faces glaring at her back and new alleys that’re safe to cut through. And…if she can just do this, then she’ll finally have a chance to pursue that part of herself which everyone who thinks it’s their business have always dangled out of her reach, that body, that identity-

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP

Louise jerks like some kid just let off a firework right next to her. Grey smoke curls through the measly excuse for a kitchen, pricking its fingers into her eyes. She snatches up a tea towel from the pile on the floor and flaps at the smoke alarm with it like a lunatic (while muttering every curse she knows through her teeth) until the stupid shrieking finally dies down.

And – she lets out a mirthless snort at the sight, burying both hands in her hair – of course, of course the toast has decided to burn to a crisp. In one movement, she rips the slices out of the toaster, even though the heat sears into her bare skin, and tosses them across the room into the bin. Whatever. She’ll survive.

Because that’s what Louise has always had to do. Survive. Especially when it became more and more obvious that nobody was planning on swooping in to help anytime soon.

Stupid…so, so stupid.

An hour or two later, curled up on the mangy sofa patterned like an old biddy’s blouse (where the landlord got his hands on something so horrible, Louise never wants to know), she wonders idly what all those managers are dining on tonight. Probably salmon or something, with posh chocolates to stuff their smug faces with afterwards and congratulate themselves on how hard they’ve worked to get there.

After all, the lot of them probably think as the next course is delivered on nothing less than a silver plate, nobody ever handed anything to me on a plate. Because they’re obviously the ones who have to fight tooth and nail every single day just to make some sort of life for themselves – with all the odds stacked against them right from the start to boot.

Ha.

Louise mechanically tugs the blankets a bit higher around herself in a half-hearted effort to both hold back the urge to beat her fists against the floor like a toddler and block out the familiar chill in the air. How likely is it that she has enough left in her wallet to pick up some food and (gasp) top up the gas meter? Somehow, she thinks not very.

That’s a nice little snag, isn’t it? She tries hard too. From the second she pries herself out of bed ‘til she can finally crawl back into it; even then, she lies awake time and time again, tormenting herself over the bills and the bugs. Yet who’s busy snatching up the rewards for all that? For the long grinding hours, the festering rubbish pile stinking up the street corner and gaggles of teenagers dogging her every step with slurs and threats whenever she has to wade through it, for bloody everything? Who wins? The system, always. Leeching off the blood and sweat and tears of all the ones who can’t protect themselves, because the damn thing has no face and a million faces at the same time.

That system, and everyone who pulls its strings and makes it dance its little dance, is just plain broken – maybe beyond repair at this point. And stupid. So very stupid. Why should she pander to it?

Reality comes to bite Louise yet again, this time in the form of BANG after muffled BANG, juddering the ceiling above her head. The people responsible – and she knows damn well who – aren’t troubling to keep their voices down, either.

Something spikes hot as lava in her chest. She hurls the blankets away, slams her hand down on the tatty arm of the sofa, pushes herself to her feet. No. No, nope, no. Not this, not tonight.

Within seconds, she’s out of her flat and up the dingy stairs (who’d they pull in as an interior designer? Batman?) onto the next floor. Before she can hammer on the door of Flat 3B and bellow shut it!, though, one of its denizens comes staggering out, clothes hanging off her and reeking of sweat.

She gnashes her teeth as soon as she spots Louise standing there with her fists clenched. ‘Don’ yer go puttin’ yer dir’y fingers anywhere near our door.’ The words are a lot less impressive than the old bat probably thinks. For one thing, they’re the kind of garbled that can only come from the bottom of a bottle; for another, the precious door she’s so protective of is already chipped and dented to all hell.

‘Are you really this thick or are you just too bladdered to get it through your skull?’ Louise retorts, chin jutting. Her shoulder gives another reproachful twinge as she stabs her finger in the direction of her own flat on the floor below. ‘Nice for the pair of you that you’ve worked out how to turn into a herd of elephants every bloody night, but none of us want to hear it.’

The other woman’s bloodshot eyes widen, face wheeling through an interesting spectrum of reds. ‘Yer think yer c’n stan’ there an’ tell me what ter do, do yer? DO YER? Yer little…yer stupid…fag!’

There it is. The low blow. It doesn’t send Louise reeling anymore; she’s been living with it way too long for that. Doesn’t stop it from being something that always manages to pierce the armour she’s had to build around herself, though.

She knows fine well what kind of poison everyone drips about her – muttered into the backs of their hands or hollered in her face, it’s all the same. Still, she wouldn’t have thought a bit of peace would really be so much to ask for. Another thing she must be wrong about.

So she turns and walks away, the mixture of gleeful cackles and slurred threats from behind her breaking through the brittle air. Sounds like Louise can expect egg splattered onto every inch of her own door tomorrow morning.

She just loves it when her neighbours greet her with breakfast. What a friendly, cosy little community the lot of them have here.

That flare of satisfaction darts through her veins again when she kicks her door shut. It makes the raging storm inside her audible and helps her to blot out the outside world as best she can. Who cares if someone out there might hear her? Who listens anyway?

Nobody. That’s who.

Louise stands there for a few minutes, just stands, with ringing ears. Her head gives a random little spasm in a certain direction. Maybe some twisted part of her is just instinctively drawn to it at this point.

She doesn’t want to. But as if by a magnet, her gaze is dragged over there anyway – towards the mirror hanging askew across the room. She puts it off for as long as she can, picking restlessly a pockmark on the frame. Mirrors. She hates them. All they’ve ever done is show her…this.

Her eyes zero in on everything humanly possible. From tracing every wrong curve in her face, every wrong line of her chest and shoulders and legs, and right down to marking the size and shape of her hands- God, it’s all wrong- and stupid, stupid-

The air’s too thick.

Her hands clasp themselves together over her head as if to somehow shield her. There’s no hiding from the prickling beneath her skin. Not right now. Even so, her legs begin to carry her up and down. Up and down. A bit like what’s going on inside her head.

Just a little bit extra a month. That’s all she needs. Her heart picks up speed at that thought. Nine pounds for the mirror to reflect back at her the image she’s wanted so much, for so long. And then…and then…what? What then?

Louise slowly lowers her hands, staring at the dusty specks swirling their sluggish way through the air without really seeing them. She knows how the world views her – hell, more like looks down on her. Why should she expect some injections, no matter how precious they are to her, to burst whatever nice thick bubble they’re all living in?

(So very stupid.)

But that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

The sofa cushions catch her as the bones seem to disappear out of her legs. She will not end up like her mother: ducking in and out of people’s lives, spending her days glued to godawful chat shows, running away at the tiniest bit of hassle. And besides…soon, there won’t be any need for tossing and turning at night over stuff like the pitch of her voice. Or the awkward hang of her clothes. Or strangers throwing her a death stare in the street and tugging their kids away from her, like she’s about to eat the little darlings alive when all she’s trying to do is get home. Soon, she’ll be tearing down the barriers they think they can obstruct her with.

She clutches the bundle of blankets against her empty stomach and clings onto that promise.

*

Stares, from every corner. They burn into the back of her head and follow her into the room until she pushes the door shut in their faces with one clumsy hand. The other just about manages to keep hold of the papers.

Those papers.

The interviewer hardly bothers to glance up at Louise. Obviously she’s just another little bump in his morning, another bit of business for him to get rid of. She slaps on a smile (and tucks her fingers in as best she can to hide the frayed ends of her nails) all the same.

He gives a vague gesture, which she can only assume is his way of directing her to take the chair across from him – one of those stiff plastic jobs that look as if they were nicked from some preschool, which is just great – without wasting his breath on her. Somehow, she plants herself down on it while miraculously avoiding actually biting her tongue in two. This place should hire her just for that, she reflects grimly.

Now here it is. The Moment, as Louise has been calling it. She blows out a shuddery breath and slackens her grip on the papers, instead sliding them across the table. One is her CV. Meagre, hastily compiled, but at least it has Louise Deegan printed on in black and white.

And the other…the other is her birth certificate. Which says something different. Different in a way she can hardly bring herself to look at.

His Highandmightyness glances over both, expression never so much as twitching. Until it does. Louise watches with a tight throat. She’s used to this: the moment where the penny drops and people cotton on to who – or what, since this one thing tends to automatically brand her as something subhuman in their eyes – they’ve got in front of them.

If only that could make it any easier. If bloody only.

He says nothing. He’s probably not allowed to. Not to her face, anyway. Something in the room still shifts, as though the table separating them has suddenly grown another twenty feet. Louise is used to that too. All those faces thinking how much better than her they are. It’s just…stupid.

She jumps through the usual hoops: her (short) employment history, why she wants to leave her current job (she thought up some generic answer ahead of time) and the rest. She needs this. So badly. Yet there he sits, not taking the trouble to nod at anything she says, letting silence hang between them as soon as he’s asked all the questions on his little script.

Then he finally sees fit to raise his head – but it’s like he’s looking straight through Louise, at the grey and ivory wallpaper behind her. Her heart throws itself against the cage of her chest. Sweat creeps across her clenched palms.

His words are cool and steady; careful, even. But they fall like a hammer blow. ‘I believe I’ve heard enough for now. If you could close the door on your way out?’

His monotone ‘thank you for thinking of us’ spiel rushes past Louise’s ears like the water she dipped her head into this morning (how else could she make any attempt at scrubbing her hair when the landlord won’t get off his arse and fix her shower?). She barely remembers to retrieve those fatal papers before she all but dives back into the waiting room, where that sea of withering stares surges higher and higher, freezing every limb so she can’t even smash her knuckles into those stupid faces, blurring her vision, smothering her nose and mouth…

*

It always circles back to this. No matter what she tries to do; no matter how many backbreaking days or sleepless nights she passes. Here she is again, slumped at the same old table while muffled thuds and drunken bawling from the floor above echo around her skull and a phone she doesn’t think will be ringing anytime soon watches her from the corner. The same old bills are spread out in front of her, cold as a death warrant. And the same old tears sting her eyes.

Stupid. So stupid.

[crue-sixx]

Is This A Zombie?

Title: Is This A Zombie?

Author: tiddly-winx

Fandom: The Dirt (Motley Crue Movie)

Summary: The reader is a zombie, but with all of her senses in place.  How will she explain to her crush Tom Zutaut that she's the living dead?

Note: Tom Zutaut needs some love.  Also, reader is bi-sexual.

Warnings: zombies, dead things coming to life, swearing, drinking, drug use, sexual references, mention of self harm and abandonment.  If you are sensitive to any of this, please don't read.

DEATH:

You woke up with a gasp and you were utterly confused.  One second you were in nothing but darkness but now you were in a well lit semi-medical place.  You heard a scream of fright as you whipped your head around to see a person in hospital scrubs sprawled out on the floor, their equipment scattered around them.  "Jesus Christ shut the fuck up already!" you shouted above the person's screams. Your voice sounded hoarse like you'd been sick or something. They stopped and stared at you in total horror.

"Alright then" you swung your legs around and tried to hop off the rather uncomfortable bed but your legs buckled and snapped under your weight, the strange thing was that you didn't feel any pain.  You just marveled at your twisted legs and said "Now if you'll stop being a little bitch for a few moments. would you kindly tell me what's happening to my body?"

The person pulled off their mask and you could tell from the Adam's Apple that it was a man "Your legs broke because of rigor mortise" his fear turned into awe as he looked you up and down.  "You're dead..."

You should have been scared shitless, but you just gazed at them and asked "Can you set them right?"

"Erm...yes...I can reconstruct the bones and put splints on your legs until you can move them freely again..."

"Cool" you sat up "Now if you'll please help me back on the metal slab, could you tell me how I died?" you were now more interested in all things morbid.

LIFE:

You were visiting your cousin Vince while you were in town, the two of you tearing it up.  You two smoked, drank and injected whatever you could get your hands on.  It was always like this, even when you two were growing up.  You were his favorite substance abuse buddy and he was yours.  You did a whole lot of stupid shit together, including pissing off whoever got in the way of your good time.

You did however, have a penchant for being attracted to nerdy boys.  Where Vince loved the big titted mud wrestling blonde bimbos, you craved socially awkward males with above average intelligence.  You saw nothing but bliss when Tom Zutaut walked to your table at the Rainbow all professional like you were struck with cupid's arrow.

You laughed along with Vince and his friends when Zutaut jumped and fixed his fly, turning down a free blowjob was hilarious but you found it charming at the same time.  You, Vince and his friends were far from "normal" but even you had turned down some drunken bitch's advances from time to time because she was so trashed that she could barely walk.  In those cases, you'd help her friends get her to where she was going safely.

The royal dick sucker however, wasn't at all inebriated so after Tom had left you put your hand under the table with a crisp brand new fifty dollar bill in it and said "Hey, Sweetheart?"

The curly haired blonde poked her head from under the tablecloth "Yeah Dollface?"

"That clit isn't going to suck itself you know" all the boys around you chuckled, the curly blonde smiled and took the fifty, getting to work on you.  Nikki and Tommy both high fived either one of your hands and grinned at each other on the promise that you'd let them both watch while you were being pleasured, them slipping under the table to enjoy the show.

Later a small bottle of what you assumed to be alcohol was placed on the table, from seemingly nowhere.  You snatched it up and slipped it in your purse for later consumption when you got a private moment to yourself.  That moment wouldn't come however, as when all the rest of them but you and Vince were passed out he had went through your purse to see if you had any more crack for him to snort.  "Y/N what the fuck is this?" he teased, shaking the bottle.

"That's mine" you said, taking the bottle from him.

"Then why does it have my name on it?" he pointed to the printed "VINCE" on the label.  

"Maybe that's the name of the drink, dumbass" you teased back, taking a swig.  You didn't even swallow before you started coughing up blood.  "What the fuck?" 

"Y/N!  Fuck!" he leaped up to help you, to his horror a hole was burning through your throat.  You had drank a corrosive material thinking it was alcohol.  The smell of burning flesh was sickening, your vocal chords fried to shit, the only sound you could make was gasping for air.

The others had rousted from the noise and Tommy was on the phone with the ambulance.  You were crying as Vince kept applying pressure to the wound, him freaking the fuck out about the situation.  He lifted up the cloth he was using to replace it with a clean one, only to gag at the sight of the oozing wound in the middle of your neck.

You felt yourself sink into the floor, your vision going dark.  Vince's voice was getting distant like you were running away from him.  The last thing you saw was him being pushed out of the way and the paramedics taking over.

LIVING DEAD GIRL:

The medical examiner had said you had prevented an assassination attempt on Vince by drinking the corrosive acid in his place.  Though it was on accident, you had preferred it that way-he had a promising rock star career with the band and Electra Records.  You were just some girl living in her uncle's van while your parents didn't care what was going on with you-they turned you loose when you were twelve because they just simply didn't want you anymore.

You turned to drugs and alcohol to cope, you admit it was a bad way to cope but it was the only way that you could numb the pain of abandonment.  You tried cutting yourself, but the pain was still there even after the razor blade sliced your skin.  Of course Vince had found you during one of your episodes, cursed you out and bitch slapped you across the face to knock some sense into you.  He had set you on the path to substance abuse, but he thought it was better than you carving yourself up like a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving.

It was a few weeks before the medical examiner was able to give you artificial bones throughout your body so you'd be able to move around like normal and not clunky like a rusty robot.  In that time, you'd had your funeral, staying quiet as a church mouse in your casket.  Then you were buried in a family plot, dug up by the medical examiner (who by now you'd named Dr. Frankenstein) and had artificial bones and a showroom new set of vocal chords so you'd be able to talk normally again.

You were almost normal, except for the gaping hole in your neck that couldn't go away, even with skin grafts it just melted the new skin right off.  You had given up and decided on wearing scarves and neckerchiefs, even though you hated them.  You couldn't go out in public with that nasty wound on display.  You wanted to find that Zutaut kid, but first thing you wanted to do was scare the shit out of Vince and his friends.  A girl had to have her fun after all.

You knocked on the door to their apartment, Nikki answering the door and nearly shitting himself.  "What the fuck?!" he stumbled backward.  

You stepped over him and said "I see you finally fixed the door" Vince looked hurt and confused, him stuttering over his words like a frightened child-in many ways he was.  "Quiet now, Vinny" you cradled his head to your chest "I'm right here..."

"No" he pulled back gently "you're dead...we watched you die..."

"Dead as a door nail" you agreed and giggled "but I just couldn't stay dead" you reached out to try and touch his cheek, but he backed away.

"You're still so cold..." silent, horrified tears rolled down his face.

"Vince" you said softly "I never blamed any of you for letting me die..."  there was a hint of malice in your voice that wasn't there before.

Vince shook his head "You're not Y/N...she'd never say something like that..."

"Who else would I be Vinny?" you pulled off the scarf from your neck, exposing the wound.  His hand flew to his mouth and he fell back to the floor "doesn't this prove that I am Y/N L/N?" you straddled him and he tried to make himself smaller.  You were about to sink your teeth into him when you saw Tom Zutaut's business card covered in cocaine.

You picked it up and looked at it a little bit, then showed it to him "Call this nerd for me and tell him to meet me outside the Rainbow in an hour?"  he nodded his head in agreement and dialed.

Zutaut was there in under ten minutes, him being attracted to your confidence when he last saw you.  He didn't know you had died, and you didn't look like you were decaying, thanks to the mortician's amazing embalming job.  "Hey! Y/N!" he was happy to see you, you having put your scarf back on to hide your secret.  "Thanks for having Vince call me!  It's not very often I get asked on a date by a pretty girl like you!"

"Well, when I want something I grab it before anyone else can" you said, taking his arm.  "Where do you want to go?"

"Just walking is fine with me" he said "I was eating dinner when I got your call, but some ice cream sounds good" he led you through the park to an ice cream stand and bought you both a cone.  As you licked it, you felt the cold fall out the hole in your throat.

"Shit..." you whispered to yourself and cleaned up, thankful your scarf was absorbing the flow.

He stopped and looked at your scarf "It's almost 100 degrees outside, why are you wearing that thing?  Do you have some hickies you don't want me to see?"

"No" you said quickly "I have a rather nasty rash that's only contagious if you touch it, but it still looks unsightly so I don't want to gross you out"  you looked away shyly.

"Oh..." he turned away "so you like to party like a rockstar?"

"Hell yeah I do!" you laughed "but I can turn it off if you'd like.  I want to quiet down some..." you looked up at him with your big doe eyes "I wouldn't mind if it were with you. Tom" he gulped, leaning down to go in for a kiss.

It only took a few seconds of tasting you for him to roughly push you away and say "You taste like death!"  

You couldn't keep it together anymore-your mind and body.  You softly began crying to yourself, then the cries turned into a cackling witch's laugh.  You began to scratch at your face, the skin falling off in shreds.  "Damn it!  Damn it, damn it, damn it!"  Zutaut looked on in horror as you lumbered toward him.  "Just when I find a respectable boy, I just HAD to go and die!"  At this point, your mandible was starting to rot off and was hanging by a thread of skin.

You couldn't form words anymore, even if you had your mouth fully intact.  Your brain had been slowly rotting from the time you "woke up" to now, and your body was just catching up.  Tom had the good sense to run away when you started to change, but from behind the medical examiner took the sharp end of the shovel to take off your head.

He then took out a recording device and spoke "Professor Greene.  The reanimation experiment was a complete failure from the get-go.  The intended test subject was unable to be collected, the test subject we obtained was incompatible with our technology and deteriorated at a slow pace, which was to be expected from a fresh corpse.  I was shocked when she first woke up-I wasn't expecting the experiment to even get off the ground.  The concept was so far fetched that I thought it impossible.  At the time of termination, the subject had withered away into a rotting shell of her former self.  I was able to convince the gentlemen at the apartment she visited that they were having a very bad drug induced dream.  I will now suspend the experiment until a later date, but will keep an eye on subject Vince Neil until we are able to update the technology.  Signing off" he stowed the device and buried your body in the shallow grave he'd dug a few feet away.  He'd followed you to the place to observe you.

He had failed, but he'd just have to keep on trying.

[dxlansfxck]

Saints & Sins [G.D] Part 06

He tasted exactly like Y/N thought of. He tasted like the ocean, like salt and a hint of fresh air. He tasted like vacation – and a tiny bit like mint. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, forgetting about Grayson and their memories. She knows, Luke was a better man. She opens her mouth, leaving room for their tongues to dance against each other while their lower bodies meet, the friction causing both to let out tiny moans. It was weird for Y/N to kiss without being on drugs, but again, she didn’t need them with Luke. She presses her eyes even more shut, not trying to have Grayson’s face in her thoughts, but she failed. His smile, his eyes and even his smell was now everything she could think of. Gasping, Y/N steps back, looking at Luke in shock. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”, she looks at her feet, feeling guilty. She was truly sorry. Sitting down on one of the wet rocks, she pops her head down into her palms, watching Luke carefully.

“You don’t have to be, Y/N. Is It because of Dolan? I mean, you broke up only a few weeks ago and…”, she didn’t even let him finish, she had to splurt out whatever was on her mind. “Grayson is back. He was laying in my bed, but he didn’t look like Gray. He was so skinny, not a tiny bit of muscles on his body. He looks like he’s rotting alive, he literally smells. Then he was about to kiss me, but I didn’t want to, so I just ran away. Straight into your arms. Wow, I’m such a mess. I mean, what is he thinking of me now? I’m sure he’ll kill me with a heroin needle once I’m sleeping.” Y/N tried to make a joke but neither of them wanted to laugh right now.  Jumping up, she started to walk around, being splashed by a few water drops here and there. “I need to see what he’s doing. Maybe he’s about to kill himself!” She was about to go through the waterfall, but Luke holds her back. “Hey, Y/N, calm down. He won’t do anything. If he’d truly feel that bad, he wouldn’t be back at college, right? But tell me, why did you even break up?” Luke’s warm eyes watch her carefully, while she sits down again, ready to tell him their entire story.

Once she was back in her room, still in her wet clothes, she found Grayson still laying on her bed. This time, he had her drawing in his hands. “You’ve got talent, angel. “ Y/N stayed quiet. Grayson kept looking at her, raising a brow once he saw her wet outfit. “Where have you been? Showering with your clothes on?” He checked the time. “For about 4 hours? I waited for you, angel. I’ve got some new stuff to try”, he waves another bag around, filled with lots and lots of tiny silver packages. She’s watched enough movies, she knows what was inside of them. Ripping the bag out of his hands, Y/N watched the content carefully. “What did you turn into, Grayson? You’re not the one you’ve been the last months”, shaking her head, his personal angel just grabs fresh clothes before heading off to take a shower. Just as she wants to open their door, some knocking makes her jump. Luke walks in without waiting for them to call him in. “Hey, Y/N. I thought you’d want to take a shower as well, I mean, there’s seaweed on your clothes”, his wide grin makes Y/N smile before disdainfully looking over to Grayson. “Dolan, you’re back”, Luke says simply. Grayson just cheers his joint is Luke’s direction, then watching me carefully. “You’re hanging out with him? Well, we’ll see what you’re getting from that, angel”, he makes it sound like a threat, but Y/N decided to stray strong, shrugging her shoulders before heading out with Luke once again.

They showered next to each other, Y/N in her bathing suit, Luke in some surf shorts. He had quite a few tattoos around his chest and arms, similar to Grayson’s. “What do they mean?”, she points to the artwork on his chest. It was an ox skull, a snake winding through its empty eyes surrounded by different nature symbols. She felt almost naked next to his inked skin, but he just told her, that not each tattoo has to have a meaning. “I’m getting one tomorrow”, she blurts before quickly stepping out of the meanwhile cold shower.

 Grayson stayed in their room, thinking about anything that has happened the past three weeks.

    He woke up with a bright migraine and dry mouth, looking around for his favorite girl. Calling her name, he tried to get up but failed. Damn. His angel stands in front of the door, her hair was messy and she had dark bags under her eyes. She was alone. “Gray, you awake?”, her voice was calm, but he knew she was nervous. “Mh, yeah. Fuck, my head is about to explode. Where’s everyone? Wait, did I fall asleep during the party? Fuck”, his hands automatically hold his hurting head, trying to reduce the pain. “Well, that comes from swallowing all those pills. I thought you were clean and stopped doing hard drugs? Why are you lying to me? Grayson, answer me!”

Why did she know all of this? What happened after he fell asleep? He tried to catch her reaction, but Grayson already knew she was pissed as fuck. “You know what, Grayson? I’m leaving, do whatever you want. It was a mistake meeting you. You’re destroying me. I took part in an orgy last night! I’m heading back, see you after holidays, if you didn’t die by then!” With that, he just watched her going. He let her go. Let her leave his broken life. He kept lying in this bed, not caring about the loneliness. He was just about to drift away, still too many drugs in his blood system to let him actually feel anything.

He stayed in this house the next few days, surrounded by all those people that made him the person he was. His routine kept the same: waking up, taking a trip, sitting on the couch, drink coffee, taking a trip, smoking a joint, Ritalin, Speed, sex, robbing people on the street, then sleep.

He even tried crack once, meaning he couldn’t say he disliked something he hadn’t tried. “Dolan, where’s your princess? The night I spent with her was so fucking good, damn, you’re so lucky”, Liv lolls around the couch, swiping some blood from her nose. “What do you mean”, Grayson scans her emaciated body that looked similar to his. There wasn’t time to eat, they had to spend their money on other things, medicaments got more expensive the longer you had to take them. “She licked my pussy so good, but I think I don’t have to tell you about her tongue skills”, her mascara-smudged eyes winked in Grayson’s direction, while she pops herself onto Toni’s lap. “Hoe”, he hasn’t had any other thing to say, but calling her a hoe wasn’t even an insult. She sells her body for Heroin on a daily basis. Groaning, he stands up and motions her to follow him. “C’mon.” She laughed, but still following him into the bedroom, letting him fuck her with all the angriness left in his body.

He tries not to watch while Liv was heating up a spoon with a lighter. A toxic smell was tingling in Grayson’s nose which made him give in and stares at her movements. He watches over her shoulder as she ties a scarf around her arm and prepares her shot. Then she finally injected the needle into the back of her hand, pulls some of her blood in it before shooting the entire load into her fragile body. Her pupils turn into pins in matter of seconds, a silent smile was placed on her chapped lips while she leaned back against his chest. Grayson’s head was on top of hers while realizing how jealous he was about her high. “Share.”

Liv couldn’t hold her laughter back. “You sure, Gray? You don’t want that. Sure, it’s nice. It makes you feel so free and on top of the world, but not for too long. Besides that, you know Heroin will kill you”, she rolls her eyes, “I don’t even have any left. Keep on taking your trips, some coke or crack, but nothing more. You have a life left, Gray. Take it.” She glances at the floor, trying to hold back the tears. “You’re not as broken as we are. Don’t you remember your fucking brother, Grayson? What has happened to him? I can’t understand how you’re still on this stuff after reliving his death over and over again. Ethan wouldn’t want that, y’know? But as soon as your angel left you, you’re all over it again. Hello? You’re snorting coke like your life depends on it. Your nose bleeds worse than mine. And look at you”, she points to his exposed body, “No single muscle left on you. I could count your rips.”

But Grayson didn’t listen at all, he just stares at the aluminum foil and the white residue on it. “Head back to college, head back to your lessons and head fucking back to Y/N!” Y/N. Angel. Princess. “Y/N can suck my ass, Liv. And don’t think you know anything about her, just because you’ve had one night together.” By now, he couldn’t even understand why he wanted to fuck Liv so bad. Without waiting for her reaction, he grabbed the foil, pushing her off him and snorts the last bit of Heroin. It felt like little electroshocks went through his body. Excitement, joy, happiness. Then darkness. He blacked out and once he woke up, Liv was nowhere to be seen.

He was still naked, laying on the dirty mattress covered in bleach spots. The house was empty, his mind still not clear and his stomach rambling. He quickly puts his shorts back on before running to the bathroom, vomiting until nothing but sour water came out of his mouth. Grayson sits down in front of the toilet, waiting to regain some energy to stand up, to pack his bags and to head back to the university.

When he arrived, he felt so misplaced not wearing his uniform. His eyes wander around, looking for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen, instead he saw Luke, some guy he once hooked up with. Luke’s eyes lightened up once he saw Grayson, but he hurried back inside. Grayson followed him, but when he found him again, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Luke and Y/N, talking and smiling at each other. The blood in his veins froze to ice while he quickly grabbed some pills to pop into his mouth before looking back at his ex girl- and boyfriend. Luke turns his head, watching Grayson with a smirk, before placing his hand on Y/N’s lower back, guiding her somewhere Grayson couldn’t see them anymore. Groaning, he heads back into their room, being overwhelmed by his angel’s smell, falling directly onto her bed into a deep slumber. 

[in-my-thinking]

Nursery Rhyme Remake.

In March this year I set myself a challenge to try and rewrite traditional nursery rhymes and post a new one daily. Out of the 31 days in March I managed to write 23 “Twisted Rhymes.” Here they all are in one post.

#1 little Miss Muffet 
just couldn’t hack it 
slaving to earn meagre pay 
so she killed the spider 
having taken out a rider 
and lives off the payout to this day

#2 Jack asked Jill 
If she was on the pill 
‘Cos he fancied some hanky panky 
Jill said maybe 
But she preferred the ladies 
Leaving Jack with a meagre hand shandy

#3 Simple Simon 
met an arms salesman 
going to the fair 
said Simple Simon 
to the salesman 
what have you got there 
says the salesman to Simple Simon 
I’ve got semi automatics and armalites 
indeed said Simon they both sound just right 
then he ran off to school 
where he broke all the rules 
still the NRA remained blinkered fools

#4 Old Mother Hubbard 
Just sat there and blubbered 
‘Cos they’d cut her electric off 
She’d not paid the bill 
‘Cos she’s seriously ill 
But social services didn’t give a toss

#5 Ring a ring of roses 
I’ve been diagnosed with psychosis 
Might kill you 
Might kill you 
So you’d better not bring me down

#6 Georgie Porgie pudding and pie Hid in the closet pretending to be shy When the boys came out to play He kissed them all and came out as gay

#7 Ding dong bell 
Trump can go to hell 
Why do I say that 
Because I think he’s a twat 
How the hell did he win 
Cant believe he got voted in 
He’s such idiot to think of that 
Starting a trade war with import tax 
Alienating all his global friends 
At a time when the world’s at risk of its end 
Trump can go to hell

#8 Humpty Dumpty shouldn’t have sat on the wall 
‘cos he wasn’t trained to work at heights at all 
we now eat horses & society’s confused about men 
then Humpty got radicalised and joined an ISIS gang

#9 Doctor Foster went to Gloucester 
To ease the poor people’s pain 
But when he got there 
The NHS didn’t care 
So he went private and 
earned ten times more pay

#10 Hey diddle diddle fat cats on the fiddle 
Politicians just promise you the moon 
The rich they just laugh at homeless scum 
Revolution needs to come about real soon

#11 Mary had a little lamb 
she also had some beef 
but to increase her chance 
of being an octogenarian 
Mary’s now turned to 
being a vegetarian

#12 “Pussy cat pussy cat, where have you been?” 
“I’ve been to Syria to fight the Assad regime” 
“Pussy cat pussy cat, what did you there?” 
“I found that the Western World doesn’t really care"

#13 Pat a cake pat a cake so much spam 
Come fix my filter as fast as you can 
Reboot it and wipe it and set it up clean 
I need see the real messages in this cluttered up screen

#14 Jack is nimble 
Jack is quick 
Jack goes to the gym 
He’s so fit it makes me sick

#15 Jack Sprat ate all the fat, he’s on the Atkins diet you see 
He gave his wife all the carbs, and lost a stone by week three As Jack ate all the meat, his wife became a bit round 
Eating potatoes, rice and bread, she quickly piled on the pounds

#16 Little Jack Horner was a bloody foreigner 
Who in the back of a lorry did hide 
He kept his mouth schtum, ‘til border checks done 
Now illegally in the UK he resides

#17 one two three four five 
once I caught a fish alive 
six seven eight nine ten 
don’t think I’ll do that again 
why do you think that’s so 
because seas’ are so polluted you know 
how can we make it right 
pray the unbelievers will see the light

#18 Mary Mary quite contrary 
Started with a spliff to blow 
Then she popped some pills 
Even though they made her ill 
Now she snorts lines of snow

#19 Wee Willy Winky, runs through the town 
Up streets and down alleyways gunning people down 
People close their windows and all the doors get locked 
Screaming out warnings that’s Willy’s got a Glock

#20 One two, I can’t believe you!! 
Three, four, get up off the floor!! 
Five, six, not another fix?! 
Seven, eight, come on think straight!! 
Nine, ten, you’re injecting again?! 
Eleven, twelve, your life’s from hell!! 
Thirteen, fourteen, you’re also snorting?! 
Fifteen, sixteen, what happened to my sibling?? 
Seventeen, eighteen, he prefers hallucinating!! 
Nineteen, twenty, his life abjectly empty!!

#21 Little Tommy Tucker, sings for his supper, 
But we’ll give him nothing, just leave him in the gutter 
How shall he escape, his sorry wretched life 
We don’t give a shit, he made his own strife

#22 Hush a bye bae, you in the crop top, 
Come smoke some blow, while we listen to classic rock; 
If the bed breaks, we’ll stand against the wall 
Then down you’ll go bae, giving me all

#23 There was an old woman who lived in a shoe 
From her home she’d been evicted, lost all her benefits too 
She had four children but social services took them instead 
No wonder she’s got so many demons running round in her head

[an0911]

What is blogs in hindi

Blogs is a powerful and highly blogging substance. Many people wonder how blogging blogs is and if there is some form of treatment. The use of blogs could be traced back to the ancient people, who started using coca leaves (the source of blogs) even what is blogs in hindi during ancient times. It is a highly blogging drug that acts directly on the brain and could then cause different effects when there is continued use.

When a person abuses blogs, he or she is found to have a diminished intake of meals per day. According to research, alcohol, and coffee consumption increases, Blog क्या है? as well as the intake of fatty foods. ब्लॉग्गिंग क्यों महत्वपूर्ण है? There is also an increased prevalence of anorexia nervosa and bulimia among blogs users when compared with those who do not use blogs. Since anorexia nervosa and bulimia are both eating disorders, this could mean a certain amount of depression begins to settle among blogs users.

Blogs is a very potent stimulant and it causes a lot of changes in the brain. Before it was discovered to be an blogging substance, it wasn't listed as one of those that had high blogging potential. But with further study, it has been noted and proven that blogs (otherwise known as crack, coke, etc) is blogging. Whatever the way of administration is, be it through snorting, smoking, or injection, the effects are still the same and the use of blogs is very detrimental to a person's health.

Is there a treatment for blogs addiction? The answer is yes! With proper and positive motivation, blogs addiction can be treated. The blogs addict needs to realize that he or she is addicted to the substance. Without the acknowledgment, he or she might not cooperate and continue to suffer from the effects of blogs withdrawal.

According to studies, the euphoria that blogs gives to its users peaks ten to twenty minutes after administration, which makes it a fast-acting substance. This is one of the major reasons why people are easily addicted to it. For those who want to get rid of the addiction, it is important to acknowledge the problem for faster recovery. People who are suffering from blogs addiction need all the help they can get when they are undergoing therapy. The support of the family and close friends is needed and should be encouraged by therapists.

Often when a person faces up to their addiction they face huge emotional turmoil. The same happens when undergoing treatment to beat the addiction. Ultimately the addiction must be replaced with a healthier lifestyle. The addict must face up to the reasons why they became addicted and will have to get help and support for their emotional and/or mental health problems and depression to make a full and lasting recovery.

Remember, it is possible to recover from addiction and depression. Get the right help, advice, and support, and start the road to recovery today! You can reach out to us for help through our website.

[awakeningwellness]

Depression And Cocaine Addiction - The Connection

Cocaine is a powerful and highly addictive substance. Many people wonder how addictive cocaine is and if there is some form of treatment. The use of cocaine could be traced back to the ancient people, who started using coca leaves (the source of cocaine) even Drug Rehabilitation Centre in Gurgaon during ancient times. It is a highly addictive drug that acts directly on the brain and could then cause different effects when there is continued use.

When a person abuses cocaine, he or she is found to have a diminished intake of meals per day. According to research, alcohol, and coffee consumption increases, Drug Rehabilitation Centre in New Delhi as well as the intake of fatty foods. Drug Rehabilitation Centre in Gurgaon There is also an increased prevalence of anorexia nervosa and bulimia among cocaine users when compared with those who do not use cocaine. Since anorexia nervosa and bulimia are both eating disorders, this could mean a certain amount of depression begins to settle among cocaine users.

Cocaine is a very potent stimulant and it causes a lot of changes in the brain. Before it was discovered to be an addictive substance, it wasn't listed as one of those that had high addictive potential. But with further study, it has been noted and proven that cocaine (otherwise known as crack, coke, etc) is addictive. Whatever the way of administration is, be it through snorting, smoking, or injection, the effects are still the same and the use of cocaine is very detrimental to a person's health.

Is there a treatment for cocaine addiction? The answer is yes! With proper and positive motivation, cocaine addiction can be treated. The cocaine addict needs to realize that he or she is addicted to the substance. Without the acknowledgment, he or she might not cooperate and continue to suffer from the effects of cocaine withdrawal.

According to studies, the euphoria that cocaine gives to its users peaks ten to twenty minutes after administration, which makes it a fast-acting substance. This is one of the major reasons why people are easily addicted to it. For those who want to get rid of the addiction, it is important to acknowledge the problem for faster recovery. People who are suffering from cocaine addiction need all the help they can get when they are undergoing therapy. The support of the family and close friends is needed and should be encouraged by therapists.

Often when a person faces up to their addiction they face huge emotional turmoil. The same happens when undergoing treatment to beat the addiction. Ultimately the addiction must be replaced with a healthier lifestyle. The addict must face up to the reasons why they became addicted and will have to get help and support for their emotional and/or mental health problems and depression to make a full and lasting recovery.

Remember, it is possible to recover from addiction and depression. Get the right help, advice, and support, and start the road to recovery today! You can reach out to us for help through our website.

[icecoldflames]

(Chap. 6 + Chap. 7) When Parallel Lines Meet

Masterlist

Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Chapter 6

The flying car was racing straight towards Patton and he had just enough time to dart out of the way.

Then Patton realized a tree that was right in the flying car’s path and he turned away as he helplessly heard the flying car smash into the tree.

Then, Patton turned around, feeling guilty that he didn’t do anything to stop the crash.

The round vehicle that was only self-driving was leaning sideways, the glastic windshield cracked so it looked like a spiderweb.

Patton hurried up to the flying car quickly, seeing some smoke coming out of the back and hoped no one was in it.

The glastic front slid up and an old lady stepped out of it.

“Stupid flying car,” the lady muttered, tapping randomly at the control pad in front of her. “This would have never happened if real cars existed today.”

Patton was relieved that the lady was okay. He walked up to the flying car. “Do you need any help, Ms?”

The seat belt retracted as lady turned her head and broke out into a crooked grin. “Well, at least there’s one person in this town who’s polite. Yes, I’d like some help. Can you help me get out of this stupid vehicle?”  

Patton nodded and walked closer to the lady, holding out his hands as she stepped out of the car.

“Want to get my groceries too? I was just on my back from the store when this vehicle turned me down a side road and hit into this tree!” The lady said, crossing her arms and eyeing Patton.

Patton nodded. “Okay.” He leaned into the flying car and tapped in a few directions and the car stopped smoking and the back compartment popped open. “I’m James Norice,” Patton told the lady as he walked to the back of the plum purple car and pulled up the lid of the back compartment. Inside were three brown bags with rope handles.

“Sirena.” Sirena replied. “Now, my house is near here. Let’s go.”

Patton heaved the bags out of the trunk. “What about your car?” He asked, closing the trunk door.

“My son’ll buy a new one for me.” Sirena said nonchalantly, beginning to hobble down the streets.

Patton glanced back at the car before rushing up to Sirena.

“I’m gonna get my son to sue the car company!” Sirena mumbled. “That car was obviously a faulty.

“Who’s your son?” Patton asked curiously.

“Glendon.” Sirena told Patton as they passed a couple of houses and turned down a road. “Of course, he’s married but that cow doesn’t deserve my Glen.” She added in crankily.

The road which Patton and Sirena turned on was a street with large houses of varying shapes. Ovals, circles, the traditional square or rectangle, there was even a cone shaped house.

Sirena walked into the front yard of the rectangle house. It was a baby blue and the windows were tinted black, no doubt the windows where you could see out but not see in.

Sirena placed a hand on the front door. Patton heard a small click before Sirena opened the door to reveal a finely furnished house.

The floor was a soft white and the walls were a blush pink. The furniture was a blinding white leather and there was a holo-fireplace in the center, all kinds of bright, fake, green, plants scattering the area.

“Come along to the kitchen,” Sirena said as the door closed behind her.

Patton followed Sirena into a large wooden kitchen with a tile blue backsplash. The carpet turned into more tile and Patton felt blinded. The contrast between the dark wooden cupboards and the white and blue tile was very prominent.

“Just put them on the table. My robo-maid will put it away soon when she powers on.” Sirena instructed, pointing the the island table in the middle which had a bowl of fruit in the center of the counter.

Patton lifted the bags on the countertop and as soon as his arms dropped back to his side they felt oddly light.

Patton glanced at the time on the stove. It was about midday.

“Mr. Norice!” Patton heard Sirena call out from a room over.

“You can...call me Pat-James.” Patton said correcting himself as he came into what seemed to be a living room. He didn’t like to be called by his last name, let alone his fake last name.

“Mr. Norice,” Sirena said, emphasizing the name “Norice”. She was sat on a white leather couch and had her ankles crossed. “Sit down.”

Patton sat down next to Sirena robotically. It was something about how Sirena’s piercing blue eyes and her neatly put up grey hair that made Patton nervous. Was it possible Sirena knew that he wasn’t normal?

“What were you doing on the outskirts of the town?” Sirena asked curiously.

Patton breathed a sigh of relief. “I was going for a walk.” He lied. Patton didn’t often lie and he wished he didn’t.

“Not many things to look at,” Sirena commented. “When I was young I walked to the outskirts of town and there were plenty of trees and shrubs and berries everywhere.”

“That sounds nice.” Patton nodded. “Everyone must have been healthy with all the green.”

Sirena snorted. Patton was taken aback. Since he had met her Sirena didn’t seem to be one who snorted.

“The olden days were green but everyone was not healthy. Everyone was glued to their phones and there was enough take out and fat in food for forty five Frenchman.” Sirena said. “Everyone’s ‘healthy’ today because all you lot was born in a lab.”

At that moment Patton’s stomach growled loudly.

Sirena stood up. “Come along Mr. Norice. It’s about time for lunch.”

***

Throughout the day, Roman was getting worried for Virgil. Where was he?

His mind was filled with thoughts and doubts, something that had never happened before Virgil had arrived.

He wanted to leave this place as fast as possible.

A little voice in his head repeatedly told him that Mr. Edra would never in a million years give him his contract he signed two years ago.

But Roman couldn’t figure out a way passed asking Mr. Edra.

In the end, Mr. Edra had to know because he was the one who watched over all the children. It wasn’t like Roman would steal the file or just escape. No doubt Mr. Edra had some kind of tracking device on him.

Anyways, after that, where would he go? His parents could have moved houses and Roman could barely remember his street name and house number.

It was lunch time when Roman couldn’t bear to eat anything when the door opened and Mr. Edra walked through with a little girl clinging to his hand.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a braid and her long bangs fell into her eyes. She had on blue denim overalls with a pink shirt underneath.

Mr. Edra was smiling like a proud father. “Children, we have a new child joining you all today. I would like you to all give a warm welcome to Canace.”

There was a chorus of “hello” and “welcome”. Canace didn’t look up through the entirety of it.

Mr. Edra bent down and said something quietly. Canace slowly made her way to the table Virgil had sat alone at just yesterday.

“Wonder where she came from,” Remy murmured.

“Maybe an orphan?” Roman shrugged, looking over to Mr. Edra as he silently shut the door. There were plenty of orphans that Mr. Edra had taken in.

It took a minute before the usual chatter arose.

A question popped up in his head. “I wonder who her scientist is.” Roman said quietly to Remy. “They must have employed a thirteenth scientist to test on her.”

Remy shrugged.

Roman knew all twelve of the scientists by name and which child they were paired up with.

Roman stood up. “I’ll ask her.” He stepped over the bench and walked over to Canace.

He sat down across from her. “Hi.” He smiled warmly. “I’m Roman. Roman Achbor.” He introduced. “Welcome to the children’s ward.”

Canace finally looked up and Roman noticed her eyes were brown with flecks of honey gold in them.

When she finally spoke Roman wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. “I’m Canace Edra.”

Roman’s throat went dry and his eyes widened. “Edra?” He gaped, feeling like he was a fish out of water. “You’re-“

Canace nodded slowly, looking back down at her lap. “I’m his daughter.”

Roman felt like faint. He forgot why he had come to talk to Canace in the first place.

Roman couldn’t believe Mr. Edra could put his own daughter through the torture of this. Going through the testing, the feeling like they were in a jail.

The whole reason of this entire thing not being illegal was that Mr. Edra had the consent of all the children. And Canace looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Canace held her head and made a small squeaking noise like a mouse.

Roman felt sick. He wasn’t sick like in the olden days when people caught influenza and the cold. Lab-born babies were genetically modified to not catch viruses. And that included migraines.

And Roman only got his first migraine a couple of days ago when Dr. Cross injected that duper power liquid in him.

“Oh my gosh,” Roman mumbled. “Your scientist put that stuff in you to make you have a super power.”

Canace’s lower lip trembled and her face was pale. “It hurts.” She said quietly. “I wanna go to grandma’s!” Canace said, a couple of tears beginning to drip out of her eyes.

Roman didn’t know what to do. So, he began to talk. “I have a sister, you know.” He began to babble. “Always fiery and was always her own leader. She sort of reminds me of you,” he said.

“She would be sixteen now.” Roman continued, noticing that Canace was slowly looking up at Roman. “My house was a bright red and the window that was in my bedroom was an octagon.” He described.

Roman kept on talking, racking his brain for more details about his family he had selfishly left behind when he wanted to become powerful and be like Mr. Edra. He talked right until lunch time.

By that time, Canace was completely enthralled in what Roman had been saying. She was no longer crying.

However, she started back up again when lunch came to an end and all the other children began to go to their after-lunch testing.

“I don’t want to go back to him.” Canace said. “Please, I want to stay here. Talk about your sister again.”

Roman couldn’t. As much as he wanted to help the kid out he was putting the both of them in danger. Whichever scientist was assigned to Mr. Edra’s daughter must be completely under Mr. Edra’s spell. He would probably tell Mr. Edra if his daughter didn’t show up.

“How about this,” Roman said, standing up and taking Canace’s hand. “I’ll walk you to the testing and then speak to the scientist and see if he has anything for you headache.” Roman knew that after the migraine the pain would spread all over but decided that that would just make Canace cry even more.

Canace bit her lip and nodded, standing up and following Roman to the scientist hallway where then 12, now 13, scientists had their testing rooms.

There were plenty of extra rooms as the hallway was long. Only the first 12 rooms had been used.

Roman walked to the 13th door, thoroughly curious to see who the scientist was.

When Roman opened the metal door and saw the scientist Roman, electricity buzzed through his whole body.

Roman felt faint again and he let go of Canace’s arm. “What?” He said, his jaw touching the floor.

“Do I...know you?” Virgil asked, cocking his head to the side, looking at Roman like a stranger.

***

“Hey there,” Logan said, looking at Connie. “We don’t want to jump into a rescue mission.

“It’s risky. There’s so many things that need to be planned out first,” Kate said, nodding.

“What are you all talking about?” Ben asked. “We aren’t going to sneak into the government. The Markku group just wants dirt to spread about the government and then take the government down.”

“Virgil Bolter most definitely has dirt on the government.” Connie said. “He worked there, for goodness sakes.”

“She does have a point, Ben.” Kate said.

“And while we’re at it we can save all the children too. It’s not right that Mr. Edra keeps the kids to test on.” Connie added in, still standing up, a fiery passion in her eyes.

“Whoah, hold on there, Connie,” Kate said. “I agree with busting Virgil out but all those kids? There must be a least a dozen of them. It’s simply not possible that we could get thirteen people out of the government alive. Let alone that most of them are under the age of 14.”

Logan pushed up his glasses, wanting to intervene but not sure how.

“But it’s wrong.” Connie said, sighing irritatedly. “Keeping twelve kids as lab rats isn’t right.” She suddenly seemed to get a spark of an idea. “Plus, if we break them all out that’s 12, plus Virgil, who will speak out against the government.”

“How do you know that those kids don’t want to be there?” Ben asked.

Connie swiveled on Ben, her fists now clenched and her jaw set. “Would you like to go into the government and let all these people poke and prod you like some...some...some kind of animal!” She screeched. “Getting poked at and getting treated like some rats in a cage?” She added in. Connie looked close to tears. “Getting ripped away from your loved ones?”

“Alright, alright. Okay.” Logan said, standing up as well. He looked over at Connie calmly. “Sit down, please.”

Connie sat down with a sniffle as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Kate handed her a tissue.

“Let’s talk this out calmly and professionally.” Logan said.

Ben opened his mouth to speak.

Logan cut him off. “I’ll call the rest of the Markku group over for supper. This is something that everyone needs to talk about, not just the four of us. And I need to leave in about an hour, anyway.”

Ben clamped it shut. “This is a bad idea, Logan.”

At the same time Connie said, “where are you going?”

Logan decided to ignore him and turned to Connie. “Nothing you need to worry about. Now, meanwhile we’ll all go downstairs and see if Virgil has made an appearance.”

“All of us?” Connie repeated. “Me too?”

Logan nodded briskly. “Yes. Now, let’s go. I doubt Mr. Edra killed him.”

They climbed the steps down and Kate powered on the computers.

Connie took a seat behind Kate and Logan and Ben sat down together.

“I’ll get into the security cameras,” Kate said quickly.

“I’ll send out the message to the rest of the group.” Logan nodded to Kate.

He picked up the landline phone which was black. He pulled out a single sheet of paper with the phone numbers of all of the group members out and began to punch in the numbers.

“What can I do?” Connie asked curiously as Logan waited for Eric to pick up.

“Just watch Kate and Ben.” Logan nodded to where Kate and Ben were. You’re new here.”

“AKA, this a precaution so you won’t do something stupid.” Ben said, clicking away at his computer.

“Oh, shut it, Ben.” Kate rolled her eyes. “She’s one of us now, treat her with some respect.”

Logan finished calling everybody in record time and when he got off the phone with Sophie, Kate was calling him over.

“Logan,” Kate said, her eyes not looking at him, instead fixed on the screen. “You might want to come here. I found Virgil Bolter.”

Kate turned up the volume and the four of them crowded around the computer.

“Virgil! It’s me! Roman!” Logan recognized the man from the other night, the man Virgil had brought along when they had been trying to escape.

Logan noticed that Virgil was in a lab coat and there was a little blonde girl standing next to Roman. She could have only been six or seven.

“I...don’t recall your name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some testing on Canace, here.” Virgil said, clearly annoyed.

Virgil-“ Roman began but Virgil cut him off.

“Please call me Mr. Bolter from now on. It isn’t professional.” Virgil said, leading Roman out the door.

Roman looked panicked and Kate turned the view of the camera so they could see both of the men again.

“Mr. Bolter! Please!” Roman suddenly stopped and must have decided to change tactics as he then said, “Canace has a bad migraine from the stuff you gave her before lunch.”

“I’ll make sure to give her something for it,” Virgil nodded and practically pushed Roman out the door.

Kate turned the volume down again and spun to Logan and Ben, not saying a word.

“He did something to Virgil’s memories. Him and Roman talked to each other earlier before Mr. Edra took Virgil away. Virgil should know Roman.” Logan said.

Ben nodded and Kate bit her lip. “Then we can’t talk to Virgil if he can’t remember anything.” She said.

“But we can still get the kids, right? They still have their memories, yeah?” Connie piped up.

Logan crossed his arms, thinking. “I...don’t know.” He composed himself. “We’ll have to see. I already called everyone here for tonight.”

Logan then went upstairs to get some drinks and a quick snack for them all, before he had to leave, leaving Ben and Kate downstairs.

“We have to go in a save the kids,” Connie said, following Logan up to the living room and into the kitchen. “They can’t stay there like that.”

“I don’t know, Connie.” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “Trying to break out 12 children is quite a bit of work. It might take weeks or maybe months to work out a firm plan.”

“But we have time,” Connie insisted, getting four coffee mugs out of a cupboard.

“I don’t know how much time we actually have,” Logan said. He put a coffee mug back up into the cupboard.

“Hey!” Connie protested.

“You’re too young.” Logan said. “Caffeine isn’t healthy.”

“And you and Kate and Ben are going to drink it.” Connie argued.

“Yes, and the three of us wish we hadn’t.” Logan said, putting on the coffee maker.

“I’m 16! I can make my own decisions.” Connie protested. “Anyway, what can I have to drink other than water?”

“You can have freshly squeezed lemonade,” Logan said, opening the fridge and taking out a pitcher of yellow liquid.

“Lemonade was my brother’s favourite drink.” Connie said, almost subconsciously.

“Brother?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, ahm, he’s gone to university.” Connie said, waving the question away. She turned to Logan and took the pitcher of lemonade, grabbed the coffee mug Logan had put back, and poured herself a cup of lemonade.

Chapter 7

Roman wanted to puke. Right then and there.

What had Mr. Edra done to Virgil? He didn’t even act the same. He wasn’t like the rebellious, back-talker, sarcastic, person anymore.

It was like Mr. Edra had completely brainwashed the guy to a carbon copy of Mr. Edra.

He at least hoped Virgil, or Mr. Bolter now, had enough of a heart left to give poor Canace some painkillers or something.

Roman walked into Dr. Cross’ room a couple minutes later.

“You’re late, Roman.” Dr. Cross noted.

Roman shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Cross asked, closing a cupboard she had been opening.

Roman sighed. “It’s Virgil. Mr. Edra completely brainwashed him.

Dr. Cross blinked a couple of times. “What? You mean Mr. Bolter? That new scientist Mr. Edra brought in today?”

Roman nodded. “Yeah. Him. He used to be in the kids ward. But he didn’t go to testing.” He added in, looking up at Dr. Cross.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spill everything to Dr. Cross or not.

For one thing, it would be nice to tell someone—especially an adult. But on the other hand, Roman didn’t know if he could trust Dr. Cross. What if she told Mr. Edra already that he was thinking about leaving and was asking about his contract?

Roman bit his lip. And swallowed down the words that were bubbling up in his throat.

“So, what am I doing today?” Roman asked Dr. Cross.

Dr. Cross glanced over at Roman again before walking to the cupboard and pulling out a glass jar. She placed it in front of Roman.

“See if you can make a rain cloud in the jar,” Dr. Cross explained. “Mr. Edra said it is of the utmost importance for you to try your very hardest.”

Roman nodded. “Okay.”

Roman stared at the jar and imagined a stormy grey rain cloud. Grey like rocks. With rain droplets tumbling out.

Nothing happened and Dr. Cross sighed.

During class all Roman could think about was Virgil and Canace.

And to think, he had wanted to become like Mr. Edra just a few days ago. A powerful figure who got to the top from hard work and dedication.

Sure, Roman wanted to rise to the top. But he didn’t want to be like Mr. Edra. Brainwashing a kid and putting your own kid through testing? No, Roman never wanted to become Mr. Edra.

Mr. Edra went from an idol to a nobody and Roman was glad.

“Alright, Roman,” Dr. Cross said, snapping Roman out of his thoughts. “Better run off to you next class now.”

Roman nodded and walked out of Dr. Cross’ testing lab. He glanced down the hallway and began to walk down the hallway. All the way to room number 13.

Virgil was still in the lab, writing something on his clipboard.

Roman awkwardly coughed.

Virgil’s head shot up and a face of recognition filled his face; and not in the good way. “Please go away.” He said simply.

“Um, I’m sorry for, uh, being rude when I came in with Canace.” Roman said. “I was just...surprised to see you here. Oh! By the way, did you give Canace some painkillers?” He added in.

Virgil set down the clipboard and stepped a bit closer to Roman. “Why were you surprised? I’ve always worked here. And yes, I did give Canace some pills for her migraine.”

Roman gaped. “Al-always worked here?” He managed to choke. “You absolutely have not!”

Virgil frowned and he seemed annoyed. His lips pursed and his eyes burned into Roman’s face. “I have. I’ve been here for five years. What do you know? You’re just some person we’re experimenting on.”

“Did Mr. Edra tell you that?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded, picking up his clipboard again, twirling an everlasting pencil between his fingers. “I had a car accident and lost my memory. Now I’m back working.”

“You honestly believe that?” Roman asked. “You called him an old bat-”

Virgil cut him off. “You must have me mistaken for another Virgil Bolter. I would never call Mr. Edra an ‘old bat’, as you put it.”

What did Mr. Edra do to Virgil? Brainwash him and put him through finishing school? Roman sighed and shook his head. “No! Of course not! You’re Virgil Bolter...you…” It suddenly occurred to Roman that he knew nothing about Virgil. Absolutely nothing.

Roman couldn’t do the cliche where a character has amnesia and another character spurts off these hidden facts about the amnesia character, making the amnesia character trust the other one.

Roman hit a blank.

“I won’t tell Mr. Edra you’ve been here,” Virgil then said, filling the silence. “Just go on. You need to get to class anyway.”

Virgil put a hand on Roman’s shoulder as he led Roman out the door.

Roman glanced down at the clipboard in Virgil’s hand and saw a list. A long list with boxes in front of them. There were a few checkmarks in the boxes.

Roman’s eyes trailed down the list. Water Manipulation. Fire Manipulation. Invisibility. Flight. Mind-Reading. Teleportation. Astral Projection.

And then, in all caps, on the bottom of the list was WEATHER MANIPULATION.

Virgil, for a second time that day, pushed Roman out the door, shut it, and locked it with a click.

***

Patton liked Sirena. She may be cranky and old-fashioned but that was what made Patton like her so much.

He was almost as bad with working with technology than Sirena. She had said the reason why she had so much tech stuff was because her son insisted.

“My son is coming over tonight,” Sirena said mindlessly, pushing more leftover food she had cooked yesterday towards Patton.

“Um, no thanks.” Patton shook his head. His stomach lurched at the sight of the noodles with crumbled Cheppers on top. “I’m full.”

“No, go ahead. I have plenty more food.” Sirena said. “You should stay over to meet him. I’m sure he’ll like you. Today’s a busy day,” she added in, changing the topic. “Saturday’s are when Glen and his ugly wife come over for supper and Mr. Goda comes over for lunch. We go through my old picture books.”

“Photo books?” Patton repeated curiously. “What are they?”

Sirean frowned. “Young people these days…” she trailed off before answering Patton’s question. “Photo books are books where you put pictures you took with a digital camera for safe keeping.”

Patton fumbled in bag and held up the camera his parents had given him. “Like this one?” He asked.

Sirena looked at the camera, leaning in. “Now, where did you get that?” She breathed, reaching a hand out to touch it. “It works?” She asked.

Patton nodded. “Yeah. My parents got it for me at a second hand store.”

“Mr. Goda will be impressed. I haven’t seen a camera like these in ages.” Sirena said.

“When’s Mr. Goda supposed to be here?” Patton asked curiously. The man, whoever he was, sounded into old things.

“Soon, soon. I’m sure he’ll like you too.” Sirena said. “You must stay for the rest of the day. Meet Mr. Goda and my Glen.”

Patton shrugged and smiled. “Of course”. He had no lead on Logan and a day couldn’t hurt. Anyway, he didn’t want to disappoint Sirean after being so kind to him. “Can I see your photo books too?”

Sirena grinned and stood up, going into the living room. Patton followed, leaving the food on the table.

Sirena pulled out about a dozen multicoloured books with thick bindings from a chest in the center of the room. She sat down on a sofa.

“Here they are.” Sirena said, taking the top one, patting the spot next to her, and opening it up.

Patton sat down next to Sirena and looked at the first rectangle. On each page of the book were two pictures that were rectangular. They were all black or brown with some white.

“How come they’re black and white?” Patton asked curiously, reaching out a hand curiously to touch the photo only to feel plastic.

“My grandparents didn’t have colour cameras. You could only take pictures and videos with black and white.” Sirena explained.

“How did you know what colour things were?” Patton asked, inspecting the first photo which had a group of people sat on a step outside. Only one little girl with short curly hair was looking at the camera.

“You either had to remember or guess.” Sirena shrugged. “That’s one of my ancestors,” she explained, pointing to the girl looking at the camera.

They went through the entire first book and Patton soaked it all in. It was interesting to see these old pictures and hear the stories that went along with them.

The second book had coloured photos. So did the third and the rest of them.

“I had an old fashioned camera like yours right up until Glen graduated high school. Then it disappeared one day and I never could find it again.” Sirena explained, opening up the last photo book.

The first photo was one of a teenage boy with sharp features and a shocking head of raven black hair. It was curly and seemed to have a mind of its own. His eyes were a deep emerald green and his face was pale; making him look almost sickly.

The photo was only of his shoulders and up, the background a light blue. He was looking straight at the camera.

He was handsome, there was no doubt about that, but in the way a dead tree was. Or a cemetary. Both were eerily beautiful.

“My handsome Glen.” Sirena smiled, her pointer finger tracing his face. “He was a catch, wasn’t he? A real ladies man.” She paused. “Such a shame she married that horrid woman.”

There was a kind of familiarity about Glen but Patton shrugged it off. Maybe Glen was some famous actor or something. Obviously he wasn’t that famous if Patton couldn’t place him.

“That’s me, Glen, and my husband, Aemon, bless his soul, he’s gone to Heaven now.” Sirena said, pointing to another photo.

The photo looked to be a picnic in the Greens. The green grass and green trees. And the green shrubs. It looked even more beautiful than how Patton remembered it when he went with his family when he was five.

The blanket was red and white checkered and a wicker basket sat between the three figures.

Glen looked the same as he had in his school photo. He was wearing a black shirt with a denim jacket on with some dark jeans. Patton felt sweaty just looking at him in his dark clothes on what looked like a warm summer's day.

The younger version of Sirena looked so different yet the same. She had Glen’s shock of dark hair and pale face but her eyes were a golden brown. She was petite and had an arm around Glen lovingly.

Glen had Aemon’s muscular form and dark green eyes. However, his skin was a tan and he looked tall. He was sat on the opposite side of the wicker basket and Glen and Sirena. He was leaned back against his forearms and he had a cocky kind of smile on his face.

“That’s a really nice photo,” Patton complimented. “Who’s taking the photo?” He asked. He was sure back then they didn’t have the floating cameras they had today that stayed still and snapped the photo when someone yelled “cheese!”

Sirena’s face hardened and she rolled her eyes. “Winslow. Or Winnie as everyone called her. Glen’s ‘perfect’ bride. They were dating there. They started dating in tenth grade and got married as soon as they were of age.”

“Do you...have a photo of her?” Patton asked curiously, treading slowly as he knew Winslow was a touchy subject.

“One.” Sirena snapped. “Graduation. Took it outside of our house by the big old oak tree. Glen was all prettied up and I do have to admit Winnie looked good too.” She managed to spit out.

Sirena flipped to the last page in the photo book.

The day looked slightly cloudy and Glen and Winnie were the focus of the photo, both smiling joyously at the camera.

Winnie had long honey blonde hair that was curled and pulled up out of her face, a few tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were a baby blue and she looked so happy. She was tall and willowy, just a couple centimetres shorter than Glen.

Her dress was a plum purple, like Sirena’s car, and it hugged her body and flared out on the bottom. It was covered in tiny sequins. She had on a white lily corsage around her wrist.

Glen’s hair was in a different haircut and it was tamed with just the little bit of gel. He had on a black suit and a tie the same purple as Winnie’s dress. He had on a lily boutonniere pinned to his jacket.

The doorbell rang.

Sirena closed the photo book and glanced at her watch around her wrist. “Ah, that must be Mr. Goda. Always punctual.” She muttered, going to the front door.

Patton followed like a lost puppy, excited to see Mr. Goda.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, the perfect place. He’d be able to see everything that happened—except for Mr. Goda himself—until Sirena actually let him in.

Sirena opened the door. “Great to see you again, Mr. Goda.”

Sirena turned to look at Patton. She opened the door wider to reveal Mr. Goda.

“This is James Norice, Mr. Norice, this is Mr. Logan Goda.” Sirena introduced.

***

When Sirena introduced James to him Logan immediately knew that he was a natural-born baby.

He knew the signs. The signs weren’t something that could be explained with words. It was...sort of just a feeling along with little things.

Like James’ figure was of a natural-born baby. Logan didn’t know what the difference was but there was one.

And the glasses. They were a dead giveaway.

Whereas Logan wore glasses with no prescription just because Patton’s were.

The question that Logan has in his mind as he stared at James and James stared at him was: what was he doing with Sirena?

Logan hoped and prayed Sirena didn’t see the signs of James and also hoped that Sirena’s son and wife didn’t come earlier than normal.

“It’s good to meet you.” Logan nodded politely, trying to squash down his cacophonous thoughts.

“You too,” James smiled brightly. “Sirena’s told me a lot of stuff about you. All good things, obviously,” he babbled.

“You too can get settled,” Sirena said, patting Logan on the shoulder. “I’ll get some food for lunch.”

“Uh, no thanks,” James called out as Sirena began to walk to the kitchen. “I’m stuffed.”

“Did she give you food and kept it coming like a machine, expecting you to eat it?” Logan couldn’t help but say, letting a small smile on his lips.

This James seemed nice and he definitely had a familiar aura around him.

But Logan wanted to tread carefully. Who knew where this man came from? He must have been a good hider or else he’d have already been killed like the rest of the illegal babies, children, and adults.

As soon as Sirena was out of sighed James had a serious expression on his face. “Virgil has something for you!” He blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Logan asked, his eyes widening.

James’ right hand went over his mouth. “Please don’t tell me you aren’t Logan Markku.”

“Excuse me?” Logan repeated, not processing this. He needed another coffee.

“I’m Patton Fitzroy! Remember? We used to live in the same street and play together!” Patton exclaimed.

Logan frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Patton? The one who moved away without saying anything?”

Patton looked suddenly ashamed. “Yeah, sorry about that. Family stuff. We had to leave quickly.”

Logan was pretty sure family issues was the broad term for it. It was probably because of his natural-borness.

Logan’s mind immediately went back to Patton’s first shocking comment. “What do you know about Virgil Bolter?”

“He broke into my house.” Patton said bluntly. “He’s looking for you. I don’t know where he is now but he gave me a letter to me to give to you if I ever found you.”

Logan decided to not tell Patton yet where Virgil was. “Where’s the letter?” He asked, trying to mask the demanding tone.

Patton skittered off into the kitchen and came back with an old bag.

He pulled out a folded up sheet that looked like instructions to bake a cake. Logan frowned. “This better not be a joke.”

Patton shook his head. “No. That’s the only paper he found when he was hiding in my kitchen cupboard. I didn’t read it by the way.” He added in.

Logan wanted to know every detail of when Virgil broke into Patton’s house but now was not the time.

He unfolded the torn out recipe page and began to scan the paper.

The writing was tiny and scrawled darkly over the printing to make a chocolate cake. The writing was slanted and Logan had to squint in order to read it.

It took up all the page and Virgil had signed it on the bottom.

Logan read the letter quickly. When he finished it he felt light headed.

The Markku group wanted dirt on the government. Well, now they did.

He didn’t know how bad everything was.

Connie had said they had plenty of time to break the 12 children and Virgil out but he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“Well…?” Patton asked, breaking Logan out of his spinning thoughts.

Logan blinked, the lights on the ceiling now seemingly blindingly bright. He had forgotten that Patton was there.

“Thank you for,” Logan coughed. “Giving this to me.”

A loud ringing of the house phone reverberated throughout the building.

“I’ve got it!” Sirena muttered from the kitchen. “Ought to turn that thing down. Gonna give me a heart attack one day.”

The ringing stopped. Logan’s ears still rang. He had always hated the phone-house hookup.

“No problem.” Patton smiled.

Logan could sense that Patton wanted to know what was written down but Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him just yet.

“Was there anything else Virgil left me?” Logan asked, hoping there was more but preparing himself for nothing.

Patton shook his head. “Sorry, no.” Logan’s heart fell. “But, I found his old shelter and brought his diary and everlasting pencil along with me. Some pills were there too so I brought them along.”

“Can I see? Did you read his journal?” Logan asked.

Patton shook his head once again. “No. I didn’t want to invade his privacy.” He bent down to take the journal, pencil, and bottle of pills out of the bag.

The journal and pills were interesting, he recognized the pills as sleeping pills, caffeine pills, and anti-anxiety pills, but the pencil was what really got his attention.

The sharp engravings in the pencil was odd. The rectangles and squares as the thin line went from one side of the pencil to another. Multiple ends of the line with seemingly only one way to get through the entire pencil. It was like a maze from one end of the pencil to the other.

Logan inspected it until he heard Sirena’s footsteps come this way and him and Patton shoved everything back inside his bag.

Sirena was beaming. “Great news!” She frowned suddenly. “Why are you still out standing here in the porch? It’s freezing out here!”

Logan didn’t bother to tell her that porches were no longer drafty in this modern age.

“What’s the good news?” Patton asked, picking up his bag and beginning to walk in the direction of the living room.

“Glen is coming for lunch and for supper in a couple of minutes! He’s on his way. He’s not bringing Winnie either, thank goodness.” Sirena smiled, a spring in her step.

Patton beamed as well. “Oh yay! That sounds fun! I can’t wait to meet your son!”

Logan stopped dead in his tracks. Of course this day. Of all days, this day.

“That sounds wonderful,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “Sirena, why don’t you get back to preparing for Glen to come home. Patton and I were having such a pleasant conversation.”

Sirena smiled. “Good idea! I better cook up some more food for Glen!” She left the living room.

As soon as Sirena left Logan turned to Patton, every muscle in his body tensed up. “We have to leave. Now.” He said urgently.

Patton cocked his head to the side. “How come?”

“Because you can’t be here when Glen is.”

“Why?” Patton asked.

Logan wanted to smack Patton across the head. “Sirena must not have told you about ‘angel boy’ Glen.”

“What about Glen?” Patton asked curiously.

“Because Glen is Mr. Edra, the most powerful government official, and he will murder you if he sees you!” Logan snapped, trying to keep his voice low so Sirena wouldn’t hear him.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

130lb of Ukrainian Courage (pt 6)

Ian sets the coffee machine going as he eats his banana and then knocks back a handful of pills. He watches the coffee begin to drip into the clear glass and and the brown liquid start to rise, pressed up against it’s confines. He thinks how easy it would be to simply sweep the machine off the side and smash it to pieces, letting the coffee spill and spread and go wherever the fuck it wants to go. Why does the coffee always have to go into the glass and just hang around waiting for someone to pour it out? Why can’t the coffee just be left the fuck alone to be coffee?

Ian clenches his jaw and bows his head taking low, deep breaths through his nose. He completes his mental health check-list and realises that he is obsessing on a minute detail to avoid dealing with his actual emotions.

He remembers the first time he explained that portion of his check list to Mickey and the way his boyfriend had closed his eyes and tried the method himself before flapping his hand and scowling

“Shit. If I stop doing that I reckon I’ll stop thinking all together. Maybe I got a little bi-polar in me too? Make a change from having a fuckin’ huge bi-polar in me, eh?”

Ian snorts and smiles and then his lip trembles and he is pressing his shaking fingers into the wet crease of his eyes trying to keep the tears at bay.

He wants nothing more than to keep Mickey and Yevgeny safe, to protect them from everything that would ever seek to do them harm and destroy anything that causes them even an ounce of pain. But he can’t and looking at his trembling fingers and the pill box on the counter and realises he was a damn fool for ever thinking he could.

The machine gurgles and spits out the last of the dark roast. The kitchen is full of the scent of happy mornings and hushed memories. Ian pours two mugs as he hears Mickey make his trip to the bathroom. He isn’t humming today and when he appears on the stairs he is not in his usual morning attire of boxers and loose-fitting t-shirt, he is dressed in a black button down shirt which is tucked into black jeans, secured with thick leather belt. He has steel toe cap boots on his feet and a small frown creasing his brow.

“Mornin’ Mr Cash.”

Ian tries to smile and Mickey bravely lifts his own lip in response but his eyes won’t quite meet Ian’s own.

“Good mornin’. How you doing?”

Ian nods encouragingly but doesn’t trust his voice. He tries to hand Mickey his coffee but his hands won’t cooperate and he spills it across both of their hands, peppering the floor with thick drops.

“Shit! I’m sorry! I’m sor...”

“Doesn’t matter. You burn yourself?”

Mickey plucks the mug from Ian’s fingers and sets it on the side, roughly wiping his hand on the leg of his jeans.

“No, I’m fine, just fucking clumsy.”

Ian shakes his head and dries his own fingers on the hem of his t-shirt. Finally Mickey glances up at Ian and their eyes lock and hold. Mickey licks his bottom lip anxiously and his shoulders rise and fall in an almost infinitesimal sigh. He looks exhausted and wound up too tightly and suddenly Ian knows what he can do to help.

He steps forward and wraps Mickey tightly in his arms, cradling Mickey’s head in his hand and resting his cheek lightly on the top of Mickey’s hair.

“I love you so much, Mickey and you are really fucking brave. We’ll get through today and we’ll take Yev to McDonalds tonight and we will be fine. All of us.”

He injects as much certainty into his voice as he can and feels Mickey melt against his chest with a sound that could almost be called a whimper if Mickey Milkovich made such noises.

“You gonna nag me if I have one of those vanilla frappe things with all the cream and shit?”

Mickey mumbles into Ian’s shoulder and Ian kisses the top of his head fondly, squeezing him a little tighter.

“Damn right! You don’t floss often enough and those things will rot your teeth.”

“Nah, my teeth are fuckin’ perfect.”

“Because you don’t have weird sugar syrup all over them.”

Ian lectures and peers down at his boyfriend, glad to see his cheeks rounded in a sweet smile.

“I could get us a bottle of wine for after Yev goes to bed? That red one you like with the funny Italian name? Ah … Monty-pull-chee-ano Da-bruise-o.”

“Montepulciano D’abruzzo.”

Ian grins and Mickey pulls back from his embrace nodding happily.

“Yeah that one.”

“I’d really like that.”

Ian neatens the fabric across Mickey’s shoulders and tugs lightly at the collar, straightening the edges.

“I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”

“Call me instead?”

“Sure babe, I’ll call you.”

Mickey almost never uses that sort of pet name and Ian’s heart jumps a little with the thrill of it.

They sit at the table and drink coffee together. Ian keeps his knee lightly brushing Mickey’s and when he carries the mugs to the sink he brushes his lips across Mickey’s neck as he stands.

Mickey cooks eggs and they eat side by side, maybe a little closer than usual but neither of them comment on it. Mickey switches his fork to his right hand and ditches his knife, he free left hand coming to rest on Ian’s thigh beneath the table.

Ian busies himself with the dishes as Mickey goes to his junk drawer and deliberately keeps his eyes averted as Mickey checks the pistol and tucks it into the back of his pants and then slips a smaller gun into a holster at his ankle.

“We won’t be more than a couple of hours.”

“Sure. I’ll be here.”

Ian kisses him softly and Mickey responds just as delicately. Ian is reminded of the old films when wives send their husbands off on a train to war.

He watches Mickey leave and notes how he pauses on the porch,ostensibly to light a cigarette but his eyes are scanning the road and the cars parked, looking for anything amiss. Satisfied he twitches his nose and bounds down the steps.

Ian watches until Mickey’s tail-lights disappear around the corner and then goes back inside. He decides to make another coffee though he is sure his anxiety would do better without it. He wanders into the kitchen and stifles a groan as he spots a familiar iPhone on the counter.

“Damn it, Mick!”

Ian knows if he runs, he can probably get to the Alibi before Mickey and Yev leave by taking the back alleys but if Mickey realises he’s forgotten it and doubles back only to find Ian gone – yeah. That’s a whole shit storm Ian does not need.

He picks it up and tosses it lightly from palm to palm considering but is saved from the decision by the sound of heavy boots on the porch step.

He rolls his eyes and hurries to the door, a conciliatory smile on his face, he knows how pissed off Mickey is going to be that he forgot the thing. He can hear muttered cursing and the door handle rattles but doesn’t budge.

“Did you forget your keys too?”

Ian laughs, opening the door.

“No. Guess I’m just lucky you were home.”

Terry Milkovich grunts, shoving the barrel of his shotgun under Ian’s chin.

“Move.”

*

Mickey pulls up outside the Alibi, leaning on the horn with his usual two quick blasts before getting out of the car, another cigarette already dangling from his lips.

“PAPA!”

Yev barrels out of the door and launches himself upwards into Mickey’s outstretched arms.

“Hey little man! How you doing?”

Mickey kisses his sons forehead and switches him onto his left forearm, carefully holding the cigarette in his right, away from Yevgeny and blowing the smoke over his shoulder away from the kid.

“We’re going to meet Grandpa, right?”

“Right.”

“He’s your Papa, right?”

“Sure is.”

Mickey forces a smile and frowns impatiently at the door, wondering where the fuck Svetlana is.

“Is Mom comin’?”

“Yeah she says it’s respectful to look pretty for Grandpa so she’s just doing her make-up.”

Yev informs him and Mickey barely stifles his derisive snort.

“You do your make up to?”

He teases and is pleased when Yev punches his shoulder with a well-curled little fist

“No!”

“Good, you’re pretty enough without, just like me.”

Mickey flashes him a cheesy grin and sets Yev down, patting his butt lightly.

“Go tell Mom to hurry up.”

“Okay.”

Yev dashes back inside and Mickey finishes his cigarette. He is exhaling the last dregs through his nose when Yev and Svetlana appear and Mickey chokes, coughing heavily.

“Do not say a word. I am beautiful and that is all.”

Svetlana is in full hooker regalia. She looks gorgeous but in a slightly menacing way, and Mickey is sure that whatever effect she is hoping for is exactly the effect she will have on his father.

“You even gonna be able to walk across the grass in those?”

Mickey nods to the spiky heels on her feet and Svetlana tosses her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly

“Side-walk, grass, throats … I walk across them all.”

“You charge extra for that?”

Mickey quips, bending down into the back seat to help Yevgeny buckle up. Svetlana glances down at his backside and considers kicking it but she notices the handle poking out from the waistband of his jeans and is suddenly glad that Mickey is with them.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

“Oh yeah. Me neither. This is gonna be a blast.”

Mickey ruffles Yev’s hair playfully and straightens turning to look up at Svetlana with an expression that makes her roll her eyes and raise her middle finger at him.

“Just drive, idiot.”

*

The park is full of kids and parents and a birthday party is happening by the picnic tables. Mickey’s eyes dart every which way, scouting for the unmistakable aggressive swagger of his father in the crowd of families.

“It’s nearly twenty past, where the fuck is he?”

He mutters, drumming his fingers on the hood of his car impatiently. Svetlana shrugs and shifts her weight a little.

“He’ll be here.”

“Mama, can I go play yet?”

Yev asks. He has been sat between his parents on the bonnet for twenty minutes watching the play park and is practically beside himself with his own impatience. Svet glances across and smiles to herself at the identical looks of irritation on father and sons faces. She had not really been sure that Yevgeny was Mickey’s until he was nearly a year old. The blue eyes had suggested it but many babies have blue eyes. No, it was the development of that particular stubborn little expression, an expression that dares the world to defy him, that was when Svetlana was certain.

“No, you will get dirty. Just wait.”

“But I’m bored!”

Yevgeny tips his head back and looks imploringly at both his parents in turn

“Please? I won’t get dirty.”

Mickey clears his throat and nods distractedly, peering at a fat old guy who could have been Terry except for the pastel roll-neck sweater.

“Go ahead bud, just stay close.”

Yev is gone before his mother can counter, tearing into the play park with a confidence that makes both his parents smile.

“He gets more like you everyday.”

“Nah. He’s more like you.”

Mickey demurs, watching Yev negotiate a turn on the swingset with a couple of other kids.

“In some ways but he has your gentleness. Not soft. Just gentle.”

Mickey looks at her in surprise and Svetlana shrugs, reaching across to pluck his cigarette out of his fingers and take a drag on it.

“I appreciate you being here, Mikhailo. You can be a good man sometimes.”

“No problem.”

Mickey’s voice is gruff and Svet smirks to herself wondering if of all the things Ian has taught him, he will ever manage the acceptance of a compliment.

They watch Yev play in silence for a few minutes and then Mickey pats his pockets and swears loudly earning him a scandalised look from a mother with three children gathered around her like ducklings.

“What?”

Svetlana frowns

“Forgot my fucking phone. Shit!”

“You are supposed to call Carrot?”

“Yeah. Shit!”

Mickey nibbles at the corner of his mouth, thinking and Svetlana sighs and reaches into her purse.

“Here. Use mi...”

She breaks off scowling at the screen.

“What? Battery dead?”

“No. We need to go.”

“What? Why? My dad text you?”

Mickey tries to peer at the screen but Svet stuffs it back into her purse with trembling hands.

“YEVGENY! HERE! NOW!”

She bellows and Mickey flinches away, scowling at her.

“Jesus! Don’t yell at him like that!”

Yev is running towards them looking thoroughly chastened although he has done nothing wrong.

“What’s wrong Mama?”

“Nothing,we are going. Get in the car. I am driving.”

“What the fuck is goin’ on?”

Mickey snaps and grabs Svetlana’s arm as she kicks off her heels and tries to move past him.

“I’m sorry, Mickey. I will fix this.”

“For what? What the fuck is … Wait a minute.”

Mickey yanks her forcefully back as she tries to detach herself from his grip

“Svet, I’m beginning to get a little freaked out. What the fuck just happened? Did Terry text you?”

Svetlana’s eyes are huge and frightened and Mickey’s grip tightens.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Show. Me.”

Mickey grabs her purse and Svetlana closes her eyes as he rummages through finally managing to grab her phone.

The screen comes to life as he pushes the centre button and in front of the background photo of Yevgeny a message preview sits in green:

“Keep M with you. Don’t let him leave.”

Mickey’s blood seems to freeze, cold sweat breaking out beneath his shirt. The world shrinks away from him as the phone falls from his numb fingers, hitting the gravel with a dull thud. Everything he feared flashes through his mind.

A car pulling up outside their house.

Ian bouncing toward the door.

Ian’s face contorted with pain and awash with blood.

Ian gasping on the floor, curling protectively around what is left of his ruined body.

Ian forced into the trunk of a car, barely conscious.

Ian gone.

Mickey clenches his fists so hard that his nails bite into his palms as a thick, cloak of absolute fury settles around him, warming him back to life.

If Ian is hurt in anyway, someone is going to fucking die.

The thought comes unbidden but it gives him something to cling to and loosens something in his chest, making it possible to breathe around the edges of his horror; and the world comes roaring back toward him, startling in it’s clarity. 

Svetlana watches the play of emotions across his face and shudders. She would never tell him so but in this moment she sees the cold ruthlessness he is capable of and thinks that Mickey has never looked so much like his father. It is an utterly terrifying transformation.

“Let me drive. You cannot in this state.”

He brushes her hands off, unable to stand being touched.

“Get in the fuckin’ car or don’t. But get the fuck out of my way.”

Mickey pushes past her and gets into the drivers seat. She scrabbles to get into the passenger side and is barely seated when Mickey hurls the car into reverse, the passenger door slamming closed as he swings the vehicle round.

“Yev - you belted up?”

“Yes Papa!”

“Good.”

Mickey jams the stick forward and floors the gas pedal, roaring out of the parking lot back toward the South Side.

[remeny-writes]

Christmas-ish part 1

So this is for the @rpdrficexchange. I got matched up with @honeyedcurves and I really hope you like it. If you don't, I can write something different.

Thanks to @mistressaq @artificialeevee and Care (who's tumblr name I can't remember.)

TW Major Character death, hospitals, illicit drugs by name.

Katya's hand had gone slack in Trixie's but he was too afraid to pull his hand away with the fear of waking him. He rarely got much rest which was something he desperately needed. Trixie studied the angular lines of his face, his already pronounced cheekbones and jaw were now almost razor sharp in his gauntness. He grimaced in his sleep and tightened his grip on Trixie's hand, making him glad he had not pulled away.

The dishes and laundry could wait but time to spend with Katya was ticking down at far too alarming a rate: his lips were blue constantly now, even with the steady supply of Oxygen flowing and a hospital bed had been unceremoniously plunked in the middle of the living room when it became too difficult for him to climb the stairs of their LA condo. At least it was a wider one generally meant for bariatric patients so they could both curl up together.

The apartment was a flood of colour, since both Hallowe'en and Christmas decorations vied for your attention. It was October 29th but they had decorated for Christmas early at Kat's insistence. "Trix, I don't want to miss what could be my last Christmas."

"You're not going to die Bri, they'll call, and a heart will come." Trixie reassured, but he was no longer sure if he was saying it for Katya or if he even believed it or it was just by muscle memory at this point.  Katya secretly hated when Trixie said this because he felt like it was setting Trixie up for the inevitable crash but he never said so. One of them had to hold on to hope and Trixie had enough hope for the both of them.

Dark thoughts milled about in Katya's manic brain and he no longer had the frenetic energy he used to use to distract himself so he now often found himself brooding. "I broke the traditions. I ruined my family. I destroyed my friends and it's entirely all my fault that they have to go through this. Trixie is entirely too good for me, he was right to run away from me, he would be better off if I had never called him for help.”

It had all happened right after Drag Race had been taped but not released yet. The cheque had cleared and Brian suddenly had money at his disposal. He had been racked with anxiety at how the editors would portray him. He worried that the fans would hate his constant nervous energy or make fun of his penchant for problematic patterns and quirky clothes.

He and Trixie had gotten close during the show. Well as close as two people could get when you were either being constantly monitored or had a camera in your face anyway. They talked every day after the taping, Trix seemed to sense that Katya was struggling and encouraged him to get out and always reminded him to eat and take his meds but he did it in such a caring way that it was endearing not overbearing.

As the date of the cast announcement loomed, Katya got more anxious and then depressed. When Trixie was away for a week, he slept too much and ate too little and didn't take his meds. He didn't know how he was going to make it through all the premiere and cast reveal parties. He felt the familiar itch of burning desire for just a little pick me up. Then he happened upon a man he knew when he was using and he thought he could just do it this once, he was in control now. He had a handle on it - on everything - he just needed a break.

He was wrong, of course. He didn't just fall off the wagon, got dragged along a gravel road for a few miles. He started with coke, and that first line  was like coming home. He got so much done, he cleaned his apartment and cranked out a few new outfits for premieres, mostly cat suits because they would be easy to pack and were easy to move and dance in.

Katya hated sneaking around when Trixie got back and they started their daily routine of video chatting, his using had quickly escalated back to meth and he hated that itching paranoia that would settle in his chest at the thought that Trixie was going to find out. Or worse, Fame. He started wearing his sunglasses inside when they chatted so Trixie couldn't see how blown out his eyes were, and he covered by saying he was having a hard time with migraines.

Trixie always asked, "hey, how's your head?"

"I dunno, ask Fame." Katya would joke and then scream-laugh. That joke would never get old to him and it obviously didn't in some little part of Trixie's heart because he always set the joke up and let out a little giggle while he shook his head.  Trixie would always sober, brows furrowed and pull his bottom lip between his teeth, "no seriously though, did you go to the doctor yet?"

"No, I'm sure it's just stress and once they release the cast list and start the show and I find out if people love me or hate me, things will go back to normal."

"Oh please! They are going to love you! I'm the loser with the polarizing makeup people love to hate who went home early, then came back and got booted again. I'm the one who couldn't out lipsync Pearl and her fucking robot zombie smash dance moves."

Katya snorted, "True."

The cast announcement parties came in like a whirlwind, blowing Katya and Trixie apart so they were often not even on the same continent. Katya knew things would change once the episode of her breaking down with Fame or any of the other times he talked about his past with addictions aired.

Right then, he was always being offered a little something at the back of clubs or in the bathrooms. He felt his chest tighten with panic that people were going to stop offering or worse, that they would tell. He tried to make connections with local dealers at cities that had several drag bars since he knew he could be booked for a few days in one spot.

Smoking became too conspicuous, he couldn't sneak out to the back alleyways at busy bars like he used to behind Jacques when he was relatively unknown, even locally. He would smoke a rock before leaving the hotel but after he did his makeup as his hands shook with adrenaline for the first 30 minutes or so which he always wrote off to others as nerves. But he didn't get nervous, that was the thing, performing was like a drug in and of itself but now that he had a steady supply coursing through his veins, the shine was wearing off of it.

Katya would stay at the venue as long as possible but coming down from meth was like running out of batteries, he would sometimes come to a dead stand still in the hotel lobby for a good five minutes trying to remember his room number or sometimes to even decipher it from the key card envelope. Sometimes he was paused long enough that a worried hotel employee would come over to make sure he was ok.

But the pain was the worst part, always. He managed to make the joke he was the sweatiest woman in show business so no one questioned him when he would start sweating so hard that it was like having a constantly sprinkling rain cloud over his head, but when it started to feel like his joints were being filled up with gravel and it hurt to even breathe, he had to bail.

That and the fact that meth smoke, well the good stuff, smelled like a mixture of cat piss and hospitals made it hard to hide, people always complimented him on his perfume since he was paranoid someone was going to pick up the scent. So he did something he always vowed not to do, even in his most blottoed days when he was chasing a high that seemed to take more and more drugs to achieve, he started injecting. He'd secret away in the bathroom or lock the dressing room door if he was alone, it wasn't as complicated as a lot of injectables, you didn't have to heat it up since that could destroy it. He just carried a bottle of water with him which no one would question and hid his needles in a old eyeshadow pallet case, one of the magnetic ones so it had enough room for his needles and a tourniquet, which he stuffed down deep in his makeup bag.

He generally wore long sleeved catsuits so he didn't have to worry if he DID end up bruising himself in his haste or because of the tremors. The first few times the high was so much more intense and he fumbled the needle and always had to try a few times to get a vein, now it had been a few months and he easily knew where to slide the needle in. Pulling back the syringe to find blood and know he was in a vein and his pain would soon be alleviated was a rush itself.

A few nights before the finale, he and Trixie were reunited and they admitted their feelings for each other. Katya's heart was hammering in his chest with the paranoia that Trix was going to find out what he'd been doing. He was so consumed with anxiety that when Trixie tried to give him a blowjob, he couldn't get it up. He apologized a thousand times but it made a mortified Trixie self conscious that since he admitted his affection first, that Katya was just too nice to turn him down. But that thought was wiped out of his brain along with any other thought when Katya put his magical mouth and hands to work to show just how sorry he was.

Later, Katya woke up covered in sweat and shaking, worried that his every move was going to wake up Trixie who was snuggled up against him. His breath was coming in tight little gasps, so he tried to hold it while he slipped off the bed, crawling across the floor and to the bathroom, dragging his drag bag with him, which felt like it was 5 times as heavy as it was a few hours ago as his muscles screamed at him. He managed to get in a bump and headed back to bed, now wide awake and heart thundering in his ears at the audacity he had to feel miserable while he had literally everything he could ever want.

He had an amazing fanbase he didn't deserve, the worst was the people that would come up and tell him their sobriety story or that Katya had inspired them to get help. He couldn't even look those people in the eye, he was so filled with shame but not enough to stop.

He had the ability to travel and make more money in one booking than he did in a month pre-dragrace. Now he "got the boy" but would he stay if he knew what a deplorable human being he really was? Probably not.

Then after the finale, Katya was tired and desperate and felt like he was going to fucking die, he got careless and forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. Him and Trix were just sharing a room and he still didn't know to this day why but Trixie decided to walk in without knocking. Maybe it was because he'd seen him naked so it wasn't a big deal, but Katya was currently sitting on the toilet with his head down, drug paraphernalia peppered along the room in his haste, a syringe still clutched in his balled up fist.

"Hey, sorry, I forgot to get my..." Trixie trailed off, turning completely white, still holding on to the doorknob with white knuckles. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth flopped open, the pleasant warm buzz from a few post-show drinks that he had been feeling vanished as his blood ran cold.

"Brian, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll stop. Please, I need help." Katya broke then, breaking down into sobs where no sound would come out. Trixie's arms itched to reach out and hold him but his heart was breaking and his brain was telling him to run far, far away. So he did.

"Damn you Bri!" He said in a whisper as his own tears fell. The broken whisper was like a slap in the face to Katya, who would have much prefered him to yell and scream and rail at him as opposed to the quiet disappointment and heartache that was thrown at him.

"Brian, pl..please st...stay!" Katya sobbed as Trixie took a step back and then another. He felt like someone was disemboweling him with a rusty spoon until he was hollow and dead inside. Trixie hesitated in the doorway before grabbing his wallet and walking out. Katya slid to the floor as he screamed after him until his voice was hoarse and security came to check if everything was ok after receiving several complaints from fellow patrons. When there was a knock on the door, Katya stumbled over himself in his haste to answer it, hoping beyond hope that it was Trixie. He felt even more hollow when he saw it wasn't.

Trixie came back to the room early the next morning after a sleepless night to find Katya and all his stuff gone. A shakily written apology was penned across the hotel stationary. Trixie wondered where he was and how long this had been going on.

Then Katya went missing, he just dropped off the face of the planet. Trixie had to field angry phone calls from Katya's manager for missed gigs. They all assumed that Katya was with him playing hookie while he was on vacation or that he knew where he was.

Trixie didn't sleep more than 30 minutes at a time or eat anything for five hellish days of waiting with his phone clutched in his hand.

Trixie started scouring the local hospitals and rehabs after the first 12 hours of calling him constantly and getting no response and with a sinking stomach about the third day in, he started looking at the obituaries for Boston and area online. Trixie hoped that Katya had checked himself in somewhere and just wasn't allowed his phone but you would think he would have gotten SOMEONE to call him to let him know that Katya was okay.

The call came in at 4:07 on the start of the 6th day, Trixie had just nodded off for a moment when the blaring of his phone ringing at full volume startled him awake.

At the beginning, there was only laboured breathing on the other end of the line from a number he didn't recognise.  "Who is this? I need to keep this line open so if you are just some pervert, hang the fuck up!"

He almost hung up when Katya breathed in a voice that sounded gravelly from misuse, "Trix?"

"Bri? Ohmigod! Where are you? Are you okay."

"Need help," he sputtered weakly.

"What do you need?" Trixie was already standing with his keys, stalking towards the door, heart beating so frantically it was like a small caged animal trying to fight it's way out of his chest. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

Katya made an unhh sound that Trixie took as a confirmation, "Where are you?"

There was a rustling of material and a few loud bangs and an abrasive and out of it sounding girl came on the phone, "What d'ya want?"

"Uh can I get the address so I can pick up Brian?"

"Who's Brian?"

Trixie heard Katya sleepily say "me."

"Oh yeah, you should pick him up, he's not looking so great." She said bluntly, Trixie wondered how high a person would have to be to have no filter like that.

"Okay then I need the damn address!" Trixie barked, trying to get the girl to focus as he yanked open his car door.

"You're not a narc, are you?"

"No! I'm not!!"

"Really? That's exactly what a narc would say. Brian," there was a rustle of fabric and Katya moaned, "BRIAN!" She screamed at him. "Is your friend a narc? BRIAN! BRIAN! Well, I'm gonna have to trust you aren't a narc, he fell asleep and I tried shaking him but it didn't help."

She let out a little giggle that set Trixie's hair on end and he was just about to lose it on her when she rattled off the address to a part of town he didn't know. He looked around frantically but only found a lipstick so he wrote the street number and name across his arm.

"Thanks, I'll be there as fast as I can, try to wake him up. I drive a silver jeep and my name is Brian too."

She laughed, "well that's funny! I can't wake him up, I tried shaking him but he's dead to the world. Did I tell you that? Ask for Ace. Lock your door." There was a click.

Trixie's hands shook as he put the address into his phone's GPS, and even though he didn't know the area he was going to but it said it was 30 minutes away. Trixie sped as quickly as he dared, it was a warm day but he couldn't get warm so he turned on the heat. The words "dead to the world" and "he doesn't look so great" chased each other around his head like overactive dogs. He slammed his hands into the wheel and cursed when traffic came to a dead stop. By this point, he was sobbing with worry and frustration and getting weird looks, which he didn't give a single fuck about. He put his head in his hands for a moment before a lady took pity on him and let him cross over to the offramp. He didn't stop, he just drove in what he thought was the general direction while his phone seemed to take forever to reroute.

Trixie tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to walk in on. He knew he was getting close, the buildings becoming more shabby then downright abandoned, windows boarded up or broken. Half clothed, dirty, shoeless kids wandering around.

He pulled up to the house, making sure to lock his doors. He basically ran up the hill to the door, adrenaline making his knock much more forceful than necessary, the door creaked open. He peeked in but saw no one, his panic level was rising.

"Hello?" He yelled tentatively into the house, taking a step inside and giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness. "Hello?" He took a step further in. The walls were filthy with the stains of tobacco and Lord-knows-what-else and Brian's stomach jolted at what looked like splatters of blood halfway up the wall. He continued along, stopping every two steps to yell out. There was shuffling but he didn't see anyone. He was just about to announce himself again when he heard a click behind him and turned to find a wiry white guy pointing a handgun at him. He momentarily forgot how to speak.

"Who the fuck are you?" The guy barked, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes darted around. "Are you a cop?"

Trixie slowly raised his hands out and cleared his throat, he felt like all moisture in his mouth had evaporated. "I'm not a cop."

The guy jostled the gun and snapped, "that's what a cop would say."

"Listen, I'm looking for Ace. Maybe I'm in the wrong place?"

"Oh you know Ace!" The guy exclaimed, returning his gun to the waistband of his stained grey track pants. "Sorry man, shit!" He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Don't tell her I pulled a gun on you! I'm Sam. C'Mon."

The house was like a beehive, there were nooks and crannies all along the way to wherever Sam was leading him, every once in a while they would pass by a person laying on a dilapidated couch, or a mattress in the middle of the floor. Trixie's heart would stop until he realised it wasn't Katya. He felt bad for them but quickly kept up with Sam.

Trixie was not as prepared for finding him as he hoped, it felt like a dropkick to the gut. He was sprawled out on his side on another dirty mattress that was covered in a threadbare sheet, a dark haired skinny girl laying beside him whom Sammy skirted around warily.

Katya was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard, he was a pale grey and covered in sweat. He was completely naked aside from a pair of brown stained tighty-whitey underwear. He had soiled himself and his face was inches from a puddle of vomit. He had bruises up his legs and angry red lines Trixie assumed were track marks going up his arms. He looked like he'd lost at least 20 pounds in the past 5 days.

Trixie crouched down, putting a hand on Kat's clammy shoulder. If he thought his heart was breaking when he walked in on him using, it was now ground to dust. "Bri?" He shook his shoulder slightly and said it louder. Katya didn't move, he let out a little moan, he was barely breathing in short, shallow little gasps with far to much time in between. He leaned right into Bri's ear and yelled his name, he didn't care if he woke up Ace. Let Sam be afraid of her.

She stirred at the jostling of the bed. "What the fuck is with the earthquake?" She opened one eye and sprang to sitting up so fast that Trixie fell backwards in surprise but quickly scrambled back up. "Hi Ace, I'm Brian, here to pick up this Brian, remember we spoke on the phone? How long has he been like this?"

"Oh yeah hi! I dunno, the past day or two." She said with a shrug.

Trixie pulled his phone out of his back pocket, "he needs an ambulance."

Ace shared an alarmed look with Sam, who was behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun against his neck, making his skin crawl, "sorry man, I can't let you do that. They'll bring the police." Sam apologized.

Trixie held up his hands and phone slowly, "take it," he breathed, "keep it, please just let me take him away with me."

Sam took it but grumbled indignantly, "I don't want your fucking phone man, I ain't no thief! I'll give it back to you at the door."

The cold metal was removed from the base of his neck but the goosebumps remained, now that he knew his head wasn't going to be blown off, he tried to rouse Katya one last time with no luck.

The first time he tried to pick up Katya, he didn't get very far. He was like handling a cold, shaking wet fish. Katya was not heavy in general but Trixie struggled with the dead weight and trying not to drop him. He managed to finally pick him up bridal style and moved as fast as he could after Sam. He had to stop twice to lean against the wall and readjust Bri's weight to get a better grip. His head flopped back sickly, letting out a crack at one point that made Trixie wince. He tried to move side to side til his head was no longer flopped straight back. Katya didn't stir at all, Trixie wasn't even sure he was breathing at this point but he couldn't do anything about it until they were out and away from the house. Sam stuck his head out the door and looked around, letting Trixie eek out past him, he tucked Trixie's phone in his denim shirt pocket. "Take care man, hope he's ok." Trixie got a few steps out of the door when Sam slammed it behind him, making him jump and almost drop his precious cargo. He heard the click of the door being locked and then Ace’s shrill voice screaming for Sam.