spxd

[spxd]

Sickly hand coming up to cover his mouth, face going white. It wasn't his balls, but it may as well have been for the sympathetic pain he had radiating from his nether regions. Holy shit, that bitch just crushed the poor sod's nuts.

He was quick to go through his pockets, finding a morphine tablet at the bottom, along with some pocket fuzz. Wiping it off on his shirt, he jogged over to the ( currently vomiting ) bodyguard, slipping the pill into his hand.

Sympathetically patting the guy on the shoulder, he turned away and headed inside the club, going straight for the girl. "Ye crushed his baws, ye madwoman!"

spxd‌.

Green eyes glanced over at the bouncer, sickly hands finding themselves shoved in the pockets of his slightly-too-short skinny jeans. He let out a soft chuckle  - scratching his forehead as he moved to gaze at the ground. He knew that bastard. He also knew that he was a_ quick shooter._ Don’t ask Spud how he knew that - he really didn’t want to remember.

      “ Graze yer hand near his nob n’ th’ wanker’ll nut himself. “ He rubbed the bottom of his nose - he didn’t like discussing the efficiency of his acquaintance’s ejaculations but anything to get this pretty lass what she wanted. “It’ll distract th’ poor sod long enough tae slip in.” He coughed. “Th’ nightclub, thattis. Nit his arse or somethin’.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly at Spud, her head kinked to the side ever so slightly. “Right, Spud, when I’m no’ fleein’ we’re gon’na have a very frank an’ honest discussion about how you know that. But right now I want to get so pisht tha’ I can’t even walk, let alone speak.” 

Kayleigh walked towards the bouncer. She had every intention of following Spuds advice, of playing it cool and flirty. But the bouncer took one look at her and shook his head – nae chance. Kayleigh grabbed the guy by the balls and twisted. The pair hadn’t even exchanged words, but after that he simply nodded. Kayleigh stood on her tiptoes and kissed the reeling man on the cheek before skipping off inside. 

[spxd]

His eyebrows shot up in mocking awe, suppressing an eye roll as he looked to the side. He knew cunts like him, former street boys who thought they were top shit because they were in the right place at the right time and got lucky. Bastards who looked down on junkies like Spud because they could barely afford rent.

Cunts who wanted to flaunt their wealth just to make people like him feel like less of a man.

Spud swallowed his annoyance, putting on a fake smile instead as he clapped the Scot on the shoulder. "Congrats, Frankie, mah man. Seems th’ eldest Low kid finally made it big." His forced smile perhaps stayed a bit too long, and he stood up, and headed towards the door. “ Hope ye enjoy yer Ferrari.”

spxd‌.

What Spud didn’t know is that several weeks from now he would find himself lost on the streets, kicked out of the house once more after the inevitable relapse. Alison would scream and shout, and Spud would stare blankly ahead — because nothin’ mattard when ye oan skag, nit yer wife, nit yer kid, nothin’. juast th’ sweet release o’ th’ needle.   

nbsp;     “ Aye, how is th’ wee kitt? Hadn’t heard from ye in years. How old is he now, anywey?” Spud’s kid had just celebrated his ninth birthday the month prior, and with the money Spud had saved from trying to go sober he had managed to buy him the train set he wanted. Just seeing the look of pure joy on his wee soldier’s face was enough to make the addict sob.

Frankie knew that all too well. It’s a mistake, to lump all addiction into one category, a skag addiction was different, it was an inward battle with your own brain, you can see what you’re doing is wrong, you know what you’re doing is hurting those around you but most of all you know what you’re doing is hurting you. You can’t eat, and when you’re off it you can’t sleep. But when you’re drinking, when you’re snorting gear, everyone else is wrong. You’re fine, you’re fantastic, you don’t need to do it, you’ve been doing it for fifteen year, but you could quit any time you wanted, but at the heart of it, people around you, people in your vacuum, they still end up hurt. 

“Dun’no. No’ seen him since Amanda fucked off wi’ the post-man.” Another lie, Amanda had been nothing but faithful, but he wasn’t about to admit the frankly embarrassing reason they divorced. “Went awa’ to America fur a wee while, me, Jacko ‘nd Kayleigh. Aye, I’m a bouncer noo on the side, messin’ aboot wi’ some heavies over there, tell ye’, the amount o’ gear I’m shiftin’, rakin’ it in. ‘Hinkin’ aboot buyin’ a Ferrari, fine for some, eh?” He wasn’t as big-time as he was making out, but he certainly wasn’t as small-time as he was before he’d left Scotland. 

[spxd]

Eyebrows shot up, a grateful smile appearing on thin lips. He wasn't one to decline a free drink. An backwards incline of his head as she spoke, worry finding itself brushed over his brows. He was worried about the girl. He knew she was perfectly capable taking care of herself ( not that Spud was capable of anything if she wasn't ) but he suspected the lass had a knack for getting herself in dangerous business.

 ‘ Life can bae heavy, lass. Life can bae heavy. ’ His head dropped, as if in depressed thought, but then not a moment later his gaze shot up and a smile appeared. As if nothing had happened.

‘ Ah got sum skag oan meh if ye'd be interested in joinin'. Straight fram Mother Superior, pure as driven snow. ’ He grinned and opened his coat to reveal the little baggie of white powder in his inside pocket. ‘ Come oan, fer old time's sake.’

spxd‌:

Thin brows lift in blatant surprise, an audible puff of air leaving his lips in disappointment. God damn it, her gear was really fuckin’ top notch too. While the Scot was usually cheap, he did fancy going into a trip every once in a while without fear of not waking up.

Lanky limbs shifted, leg awkwardly intertwining with his other as parched lips found the brim of his pint of beer.  ‘ Aye, pretty shite, ah’d say. Gawt pished ah few months back n’ knocked ah few from tha’ locale apothecary. Gawt lifted by the polis. ’  His face scrunched up as he took another sip of his beer.  ‘ Incarcerated fer ah coupla months. Burd’s went totally radge, won’t let me near the flat. Been bummin’ sum shut-eye off mah mates since. ’

A long sigh, green eyes staring into the table. He just wanted to go home. ‘ An’ how ‘bout ye, Gen? Life treatin’ ye well? ’

      Gen felt honest remorse and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.    ‘ I’m sorry t’ hear that. Next rounds on me. ’    She debated possible answers she could give him. To be honest or to lie. At this point, she wasn’t even sure herself which was either.    ‘ I’ve been better but things are looking up. I’m hopefully going home soon, just waiting on my guy to get done forging shit. ’    The ocean’s breeze and her Nanna’s cooking was long over due for her indulging. Homesick was truly an understatement. 

[spxd]

Spud looked up from his book with a confused look on his face, scratching his buzzcut head as he looked the lass up and down. An American. And she was talking a bloody mile a minute with her American accent and Spud could barely understand a damn thing. Jonesing?

❝ Drugs? Ye want drugs, lass?” An eyebrow shot up - Spud knew he looked like a heroin addict, so he wasn’t surprised she was asking. ❝ah din’t gawt shite.❞ Okay, he did, but he wasn’t about to go and give some American his precious snow. ❝ Go talk tae Mikey Forrester, on Grove. He’ll git ye some gear. 

                 ( Mikey’s gear was shit, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that. )

@spxd ♡’d

❝ Hey, ❞ She leans in, invading his personal space a little more than she probably should    ❝ You holdin’? I’m uh —  not asking for a free ride or anything, pretty sure I’ve got some cash on me, ❞  there’s a pause as she digs through various jacket and jean pockets ❝ I’m totally jonesing and I got no idea who anyone here is. ❞

[spxd]

❛ aye? s’due tae me timid demeanour an’ dorky features, innit? ❜ truth be told, spud wasn’t the most confident of men out there. from primary he was the target of ridicule, and it was only due to his friends (namely the violent begbie) that he hadn’t been beaten to a bloody pulp. he supposed adulthood would be the same if he didn’t have the names of the great simon williamson, mark renton an’ francis begbie following him around, the confident bastards.

      ❛ ah liek ta observe, likesay. how people move, how people tawlk, tha’ sorta thing. raves are pure class for that. can just watch. ❜ he shrugged, spooning some of that soft powder on his spoon before placing his lighter under it.  ❛ ah’m writing a book, ye ken? oan the people of leith, our culture n’ whatnot. mah ex thought ah was crazy, but ah’m gonna be big one day. ❜

spxd‌:

 ❛  aye. ❜ a warm smile as he looks over at the lass, watching her simply enjoy the night sky. it was intoxicating. “  ❛ ah like tae come up ‘ere when the high drops. ❜ he looked down at his watch, face twisting,  ❛ which should in about 5 or so minutes. ❜

he sprawled out onto the ground, fishing his spoon, needle, bag of heroin and arm band from his pockets. he gazed up at the sky, then over at the girl.  ❛ weel, come on then. take a seat next to yer ol’ spudster. ❜

                                       ❛  you  got  it  down  to  a  timed  science,  ❜  beth remarks with the faintest hint of admiration, and a small taste of teasing too for good measure. watching him sprawl out, the blonde takes a moment to watch her surroundings, it’s out of her element for sure, but she does enjoy it. it’s   ——   a change of pace. moving to sit next to him on the ground, she eventually lays back on the ground, one hand resting above her head as the other rests on her stomach.                                                          ❛  never  pegged  you  for  much  of  a  raver.  ❜

[spxd]

Green eyes glanced over at the bouncer, sickly hands finding themselves shoved in the pockets of his slightly-too-short skinny jeans. He let out a soft chuckle  - scratching his forehead as he moved to gaze at the ground. He knew that bastard. He also knew that he was a_ quick shooter._ Don’t ask Spud how he knew that - he really didn’t want to remember.

      “ Graze yer hand near his nob n’ th’ wanker’ll nut himself. “ He rubbed the bottom of his nose - he didn’t like discussing the efficiency of his acquaintance’s ejaculations but anything to get this pretty lass what she wanted. “It’ll distract th’ poor sod long enough tae slip in.” He coughed. “Th’ nightclub, thattis. Nit his arse or somethin’.”

spxd.

“Tae be fair, ye look fookin’ gakked, lass.” A broad grin, voice laced with giggles of his own intoxication as his scrawny hand swung to clamp down on the lass’s shoulder. “Lookit yer eens, lass. Thare is nae wey yer gettin’ in thare lookin’ liek that.”

“Fuck sake.” She didn’t flinch at the hand on her shoulder, even if she was sort of on edge. She was on edge about the general state of herself. “Hrm. Whit if I used my womenly charm to get in? Or I could just batter the bouncer – either way, I’m gettin’ pisht tonight.” 

[spxd]

What Spud didn't know is that several weeks from now he would find himself lost on the streets, kicked out of the house once more after the inevitable relapse. Alison would scream and shout, and Spud would stare blankly ahead — because nothin' mattard when ye oan skag, nit yer wife, nit yer kid, nothin'. juast th' sweet release o' th' needle.   

nbsp;     " Aye, how is th' wee kitt? Hadn't heard from ye in years. How old is he now, anywey?" Spud's kid had just celebrated his ninth birthday the month prior, and with the money Spud had saved from trying to go sober he had managed to buy him the train set he wanted. Just seeing the look of pure joy on his wee soldier's face was enough to make the addict sob.

spxd.

It had been several years since Spud had seen Frankie, and unfortunately the bastard reminded him all too much of Begbie — whom he sincerely hoped was still locked up in prison. He looked up from his history book on Leith, green eyes widening in surprise, his frame instantly appearing severely uncomfortable. He hated when people referred to him as a junkie, as if that was all he was.

“Naw, naw, man. Ah gave up th’ skag, doin’ ten steps or whatever tae try n’ git awrself’s wash. Fer the wee bairn n’ all, likesay.“

“You’re on the straight an’ narrow? Fuck me, never thought I’d see the day. Well done Spuddo, am proud o’ ye’.” He patted Spud on the back, perhaps too hard. Frankie always thought he was tougher than anyone else, and despite the amount of cocaine he snorted he always looked down on heroin addicts, because he wasn’t addicted, you can’t get addicted to cocaine he told himself. Not like skag, skag ruined lives, cocaine just made for a good night. And even though this world-view was factually incorrect, it was the way Frankie looked at things. 

Even though Frankie was nothing but a bully, he melted slightly at the mention of Spud’s kid. “Aye, I tried that shite when my wee Tommy wis’ born – even quit the drink after Amanda caught me hidin’ half bottles in Tommy’s wellies. World has a way o’ catchin’ up tae ye’ though.” He wouldn’t go as far as to say he wished Spud well, but he would pump the breaks on the general abuse he dished out. 

[spxd]

Thin brows lift in blatant surprise, an audible puff of air leaving his lips in disappointment. God damn it, her gear was really fuckin' top notch too. While the Scot was usually cheap, he did fancy going into a trip every once in a while without fear of not waking up.

Lanky limbs shifted, leg awkwardly intertwining with his other as parched lips found the brim of his pint of beer.  ‘ Aye, pretty shite, ah'd say. Gawt pished ah few months back n' knocked ah few from tha' locale apothecary. Gawt lifted by the polis. ’  His face scrunched up as he took another sip of his beer.  ‘ Incarcerated fer ah coupla months. Burd's went totally radge, won't let me near the flat. Been bummin' sum shut-eye off mah mates since. ’

A long sigh, green eyes staring into the table. He just wanted to go home. ‘ An' how 'bout ye, Gen? Life treatin' ye well? ’

      ‘ – Nah, I don’ deal anymore. ’

It was only a short span of six months that Gen helped push the drugs she trafficked. The big man pulling the strings had better plans for her, unfortunately for her, that meant getting tortured during a job abroad. It wasn’t her first trip, of course, hence her recognized face around the dive bars in town. The torture might have been over, but her body was wrecked, and the escape back to the states could be longer than she hoped. Explaining this to her family would be even harder than the last time. 

      ‘ How’ve ya been, Spud? ’

*   —————- @spxd​ ( sc )

[spxd]

"Tae be fair, ye look fookin' gakked, lass." A broad grin, voice laced with giggles of his own intoxication as his scrawny hand swung to clamp down on the lass's shoulder. "Lookit yer eens, lass. Thare is nae wey yer gettin' in thare lookin' liek that."

@spxd // liked // soundtrack.

     “Right, I’m gon’na ask ye a question an’ I need ye’ to answer me honestly, right? Right – do I look wired? ‘Cos see if I din’na get in here, I might end up chewin’ the bouncers face aff.” 

[spxd]

It had been several years since Spud had seen Frankie, and unfortunately the bastard reminded him all too much of Begbie — whom he sincerely hoped was still locked up in prison. He looked up from his history book on Leith, green eyes widening in surprise, his frame instantly appearing severely uncomfortable. He hated when people referred to him as a junkie, as if that was all he was.

“Naw, naw, man. Ah gave up th’ skag, doin’ ten steps or whatever tae try n’ git awrself’s wash. Fer the wee bairn n’ all, likesay."

@spxd // liked.

    “Hohoho, well if it isn’a Spuddo the junkie. How’s it goin’ my man? Still on the fuckin’ skag are ye?” 

[spxd]

His old combat boots slammed against pavement, face scrunched up in comical concentration as arms swung through the bitter air. Spud wasn’t naturally fast, but he had absurdly long legs and as the local kleptomaniac, he had more than enough experience running from the police.

He rounded a corner, making his way through alleys that he knew like the back of his hand. Ali would kill him if he got arrested again. “Tha’ wit ye git fer fightin’ in broad fookin’ daylight!” He called behind him, head turned so that when he made another corner, he didn’t see the very hard and very there wall.

He hit face first as he turned, and a sickening crack could be heard before blood began gushing from his nose. He doubled back, cradling his nose as he let out a startled squawk. “FOOKIN’ HELL AH BRAWK MAH FOOKIN’ NOSE.” He squealed, stumbling around bent over and attempted to pinch his nose to stop the blood, squawks continuing to be spat out. Realizing it was futile to try and stop the blood, he stumbled into the street, blood pooling down onto his vibrant dress shirt and continued to run towards the only place he could — his drug dealer, Swanney’s hideout.

spxd.

CONTINUED     //    @aspernamentum

Spud’s eyes widened slightly as they made eye contact with Jack’s ’little visitor’, and his lips curled inward, a small trail of air leaving them in an audible puff of exasperation. " Aye? Weel, that’s why ye dinnae buy a malcom wi’ a fookin’ tenner, ye dumb cheap bastard. “ 

  He looked down at the body of the poor sod, slowly walking up and poking at him with his foot. Out cold. The man had a swing to rival Franco’s, he did. He had to make sure the two violent cunts never met up.

 His gaze turned upwards, and his face scrunched up in what only could be described as annoyance. ”Weel, ye probably shuid nae hae chosen this uppity pairt o’ toun tae hae yer wee rammy. Looks lik’ we git a yapper “ 

A sickly hand pointed upwards, a young lady with a phone to her ear in a window, presumably calling the police. Spud could not afford another run in with the cops, even if he didn’t have anything to do with this. So Spud ran.

“A tenner’s the goin’ fuckin’ rate!” Jack squealed. “It’d have to be the best eccy I’ve ever fuckin’ taken to be worth twinty fuckin’ bane! Daylight fuckin’ robbery.” Jack glanced down at his handy work. He didn’t take pride in beating folk up, his brother did, his brother loved a good scrap. Jack always tried to justify it to those around him, but that didn’t mean he glorified his own violent tendencies. “It’s Edinburgh we’re in – the hale fuckin’ toon’s uppity, Spuddo.” He grumbled as he followed Spud’s hand to the window. “Dirty grassin’ cunt!” He yelped. Jack was out on bail due to a separate incident. He ran, jumped over the fence and into the neighbors garden. Jack was pretty spry when he needed to be. One thing Jack hated more than pricks piping up was grasses, he simply couldn’t fathom what the need was to involve the police, who in his mind were all horrible bastards. Seeing a man run whilst he was pitching a tent was something to behold. Jack launched another fence, this time his feet landed on tarmac. 

“Fuckin’ hell, feel like I’m back in fuckin’ P.E.” He panted, but he didn’t stop running. Feet pounded pavement as he bolted down unfamiliar roads. 

[spxd]

nightmare starters part 2

for part 1 click here!

“Will you please tell me what they’re about?! How do you expect me to help if you don’t tell me?!” “You should go and see someone about those nightmares. They’re only getting worse, aren’t they?” “Can we sleep with the lights on?” “I haven’t slept peacefully in weeks.” “I can’t tell you my nightmare this time… It’s too bad, I don’t want to have to say it out loud.” “Can I sleep in your room? I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep in my own bed.” “I’m sorry for waking you… I had a really bad nightmare.” “I can’t stop thinking about that weird dream I had weeks ago. It’s like it’s haunting me.” “You look exhausted. Bad night?” “Calm down, calm down. It was just a dream. It’s over now.” “You’re overreacting. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes. No need to get all weird about it.” “Are you still thinking about that nightmare? I’m sure it didn’t mean anything, okay? We’re not in a horror movie.” “You should go to the doctor. These nightmares are making you miss sleep and you’re always exhausted. Get help.” “How about you come and sleep in my bed? I’ll watch over you while you fall asleep, I promise.” “I think I’d feel less tired if I didn’t sleep at all anymore. These nightmares are killing me.” “I thought you didn’t get them anymore.” “I guess it was a bad idea to watch a horror movie before bed…” “When will you finally tell me what they’re about?” “Wow, you look exhausted. Did you sleep at all last night?” “Oh my god, that was horrible… that was so horrible…” “How about you sleep in my bed for the coming days? It can be like a sleepover. I’m sure you’ll feel good enough and the nightmares will stay away!” “I can’t breathe! It was real, it was!” “Have you tried writing them down? They might go away if you do…” “Have you any idea how worried I am? Please tell me what’s up with you or I can’t help! You look exhausted!” “Please leave the light on.” “Have you any idea what’s causing these nightmares?” “I don’t think you understand how exhausting it is to not have had a good night’s rest in weeks.”

[spxd]

CONTINUED     //    @aspernamentum

Spud’s eyes widened slightly as they made eye contact with Jack’s ’little visitor’, and his lips curled inward, a small trail of air leaving them in an audible puff of exasperation. " Aye? Weel, that’s why ye dinnae buy a malcom wi’ a fookin’ tenner, ye dumb cheap bastard. “ 

  He looked down at the body of the poor sod, slowly walking up and poking at him with his foot. Out cold. The man had a swing to rival Franco’s, he did. He had to make sure the two violent cunts never met up.

 His gaze turned upwards, and his face scrunched up in what only could be described as annoyance. ”Weel, ye probably shuid nae hae chosen this uppity pairt o’ toun tae hae yer wee rammy. Looks lik’ we git a yapper “ 

A sickly hand pointed upwards, a young lady with a phone to her ear in a window, presumably calling the police. Spud could not afford another run in with the cops, even if he didn’t have anything to do with this. So Spud ran.

[spxd]

 ❛  aye. ❜ a warm smile as he looks over at the lass, watching her simply enjoy the night sky. it was intoxicating. “  ❛ ah like tae come up ‘ere when the high drops. ❜ he looked down at his watch, face twisting,  ❛ which should in about 5 or so minutes. ❜

he sprawled out onto the ground, fishing his spoon, needle, bag of heroin and arm band from his pockets. he gazed up at the sky, then over at the girl.  ❛ weel, come on then. take a seat next to yer ol' spudster. ❜

spxd:

         ❛ aye… ❜ a soft murmur, unheard beneath the thumping base of the club. he looked down at her with soft eyes, it’s docility juxtaposed against the rapid beating of his heart. he felt as though he may explode.

none of his friends, save for when they were young, made him quite as giddy as beth made him. he adored his friends, he truly did, loved them all with his wee little heart — yet they were not nearly as calming as the lass was. none of them made him feel as cared for as beth did, as though his presence was truly enjoyed rather than merely tolerated.

he moved a hand to grasp beth’s, squeezing lightly. ❛ c'moan, les go git some air. ❜ pulling her behind him, he pushed his way through the crowd.

eventually, they made their way towards a ladder, ending up on the rooftop of the abandoned factory.

                                  attachment is a weird word, but it fits the situation. beth was attached to spud, and it’s not because of her own issues either. it’s not the relationship of the protagonist and the sidekick as she’s come to know it, as it’s come to shape her existence. it’s different, it’s new and truth be told it’s a little intense; spud is a little intense. the closeness caused by dancers who are too drugged out to realize what they’re doing isn’t completely unpleasant either, it, like most things when it comes to spud  -  is new.  there’s a reasonable amount of apprehension with the new and uncharted. this being both.                           oh, but spud  -  he throws her a lifeline, though it might be due to him being overstimulated. when he grasps her hand she can’t help but smile a bit and nod. the idea of getting some fresh air was perfect, honestly. she follows him like a lost puppy, because any attempt at navigating this rave by herself is gonna end up bad and she can feel it. the bite of the cold air, in comparison to the heat from the below was a welcomed change. the first thing she does is look up at the sky, and she’s taken aback. the last time she saw this many stars she was in the desert.                                                ❛ whoa, you don’t see stars like this in the city. ❜

[spxd]

a pained laugh, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as his dome lowered. he never knew how to respond to serious situations like this. death was something he tried not to think about — although the threat of HIV constantly hung over him, the impending possibility of overdose a reality, and the quiet fear that he had ripped off the wrong people and he was going to be at the wrong end of a gun shaft one day.

but he tried not to think about death.

lips curled inwards, a deep sigh.    ❝ that’s heavy, man. that’s heavy. ❞ he followed alongside him, sickly hands shoved in his trouser pockets and shoulders slightly hunched.    ❝ did th’ cat hav’ any kittens o’ his own?  ❞

spxd.

continued ! // @aspernamentum

you live long enough with people telling you everything’s your fault, you start to believe it. spud certainly did. years of being told he’s a no-good junkie, that everything he touched wilted, that he’s just an absolute fucking fuck-up - when he had heard that one of the only acquaintances he held in new york had died, he instantly blamed himself.

               jack low. a little intense for spud’s liking, but the heroin addict always appreciated company that could tell a good story. plus, of course, the man was from scotland as well - glasgow, of course, and spud was from leith, but still the initial companionship remained. jack was always a solid pal to hit up for a few lines of cocaine.

                                  ❝ aye, ah knew him. a pure guid guy, jack wis. yin o’ th’ ainlie guys wha wid gimme th’ time o’ day whin ah cam tae visit this shithole o’ a countree.❞ he looked over at jimmy, a sad smile pulling at thin lips. ❝ ah wid loue tae accompany ye. ❞

It had always eluded Jimmy, the weird bond Scottish people seemed to have when they were abroad. Arguing over football, Caledonian bars, it all seemed like good fun despite the fact Jimmy rarely had any idea what was going on. Jack was funny, funny to his core, the crap that came out his mouth always had Jimmy doubled over in stitches, and Christ did the guy like a good fight. It was a shame he was gone. 

     “Y’know, I met him at a house party. He was six pills deep talking crap. Friends ever since. Now I got’ta face his mom, his sister, his brother, knowing I might as well have put the bullets in him myself.” His voice wasn’t overly intense, it was casual, as if he’d came to terms with it. He had not came to terms with the act, rather the situation. 

     “Still, there’s a free bar. Come on, lets go.” 

[spxd]

❝ Oi, tha' ain't nae wey tae spake tae yer dear ol' uncle, now innit? ❞ the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement — truth be told, Simon and Spud hadn't gotten along all that well in the last few years. But Spud had known Dawn since she was a wee bairn — crawling all over the piss-stained floor of Swanney's hideout. Spud considered her his niece, despite Simon's protestations.

At the mention of his wife, his eyes lit up, a faint red glow appearing on his cheeks. He looked as bashful as a schoolboy, a broad smile pulling its way across his face. ❝ Aye, ah plan tae treat Ali to a romantic getaway, likesay. ❞ He rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, eyes full of adoration for his wife. ❝ Take 'er tae a swanky restaurant, see a movie at one of 'em fancy movie theatres, stay at a wee bed-n'-breakfast — just tae get away from the bairn for a wee while, likesay.  ❞

continued ! // be kind to your uncle spuddy // @reprcbates

❝ christ, yer as slow as yer faither  ❞

               not that spud had any space to talk, mind you. he wasn’t the quickest gent there ever was.

❝ ye shuid hae seen me whin ah wis yer age. jacked up oan charlies ‘n’ speaking a mile a fookin’ minute. onyways - ❞ he paused, looking at the lass with kind eyes,  ❝ ah wis wondering if ye cuid tak’ care o’ wee andy fur th’ weekend. ❞

[spxd]

hah ha ha hah i drank half a bottle of wine in thirty (30) seconds i’m not doing ok