1. Angel with a shotgun // {Jace’ and Skylar}

    jaces-and-spades:

      Jason held both his hands up in a cant-be-blamed sort of way, eyes rolling a bit as he took a deep breath. “It’s been a few days since I last got anything good, Sky.” The coppery blonde licked his lips, tasting the ash there. His lips pursed. No, cigarettes were definitely not his thing. He craved something sweeter, but both means and way. Something that didn’t require much effort, just a pin-prick here, or a quick snuff of breath there. That was how he’d liked things. None of this charring the inside of your lungs, bullshit. “Cigarette’s ‘er the cheapest option when you’ve got a bunch of Greasers hangin’ ‘round, I guess.” Jason stretched himself out a bit more, the shakes in his body transferring across his nervous system. “When there ain’t nothing else left.” A bit of irritation slipped through his tone, unusual. It bothered him. His eyebrows pulled together. He hadn’t a withdrawal in months. Jace’ hadn’t let himself run dry for months. It was very unusual. In a way, he’d wanted it. To see just how his young and damaged body would fair. It was dangerous. Jason was dangerous. So what did it matter, then?

      The silence hit the blonde first. He was used to it, even from Sky. He studied the raven haired boy for a moment, eyes searching the others body for any clues or insight. Reading. Scanning. Deciphering. Though Jason appeared to others like nothing more than a no good hood, nothing but a lost cause weighing his dead dreams and destructive ways on the rest of the world—he himself knew different. He was a man of impulse, of the mind. Sure, his mind was probably in ruins at this point because of all the shit he threw into it; but in a way, it was gold. Pure, unrefined and raw. The blonde’s dark eyes cleared. He brought himself back into the reality of now, despite his longing to linger on the ‘could have beens’. The usual. Jason pursed his lips, sighing softly as he pouted slightly. His eyes met the passenger side mirror. A fragment was missing. The entirety of the left side, leaving one-half of the raven haired boys face left for the world to see. The other boys face was still, lost, and distant. It pained the blonde to see another forced in such a state. To see Sky…No, he’d could handle any of the others. But Sky? He felt personally responsible for. Jace’ had seen the aftermath of the beatings dealt to Sky. For the other boys own good Jason had to step back. Skylar would be sent away if he didn’t, or worse. Being a Greaser, you always knew there was a ‘worse’. Nothing ended. Nothing could be paused, the world kept rolling. Even if you yourself stopped. Reprieve in the form of booze, Char’s newest shipments, and anything the ebony eyed blonde could offer to the other was what he would give.

      The other boy turned to him, a small smile there. Out of place. Jason knew. The blonde leaned back onto his arms, blinking once. “I know.” His voice was low, almost whispered. And he did know. He would always know those kind of things about Sky, and…it wasn’t weird for him. Something hit him in the chest then, an odd thought ran through him. It was a calm, one he hadn’t remembered experiencing before. His mind couldn’t quite decipher it. Couldn’t analyze it fully. Years of endless drug use and abuse did that to you. “But you’re gonna’ be okay.” He gave the other a sleepy nod as the final colors out in the horizon bid their goodbye, fading into the sickening grey he knew all too well. Like his Chucks were, minus the crimson splatter. “For the both of us.” He gave the other another one of his crooked grins, lids heavy, lashes like weights.

    Sky began digging into his pockets, looking for something that must be there. He was rarely without narcotics and he did not intend to ever give up that trend. His tongue stuck out in concentration as he reached deep into his pocket and finally produced a baggie with no more than two lines worth of cocaine and a single pill gathered at the bottom of the clear plastic. “Tha’ is thankfully abou’ ta change Jace.”  He grinned his funny crooked grin, sizing up what he wanted from the bag. He decided on the pill, already high on coke. The pill would make the skies even sharper, the colours even dizzier. He wanted to see some beauty in the word and if this was the only way he could do it, so be it. He put it on his tongue, savouring the metallic sweetness of the chemicals on his tongue. Then he tossed the bag to Jason. SHare and share alike. Especially with the dirty blonde boy. He doubted if there was anything they didn’t share. Secrets, dreams, drugs. Everything. He knew Jason better than Jace did and Sky suspected it was a two way street.

    "I’m always okay. It’s wha’ I do. I’m okay an’ I look after you hapless bastards." A short laugh escaped from his throat at the very truth of the statement. Sky did look after the others. He defended them in fights, stepped in during disagreements, kept an eye on the ones with rough home lives. He’d been known to actually talk to parents, calmly. He seemed to simply get and command respect with his very manner, a skill that was invaluable for getting the Greasers out of the frequent trouble they landed in damn near constantly. It was rewarding though. He found an odd sort of comfort in leading the gang with Jason. They suited each other in a way he hadn’t know before and he liked it. The feel of proper responsibility. The feeling of being needed. 

    "Wha’ about you? How’s Allen?" Skylar was more than familiar with the other’s brother. He crashed at their place often, bummed off their food even more often than that. He always felt welcome on their couch, almost like a member of the family. He liked Allen with his serious voice and bright eyes, although, he thought he may have been a little deluded. You cannot just leave the Greasers. It was a life long thing unless you moved. Who did he think he was fooling?

    (via )

    2 years ago  /  6 notes  /  Source: theskylaristhelimit