#and instead we snapped both tow hooks on the front of the truck

[hellenhighwater]

the only--the ONLY!--thing I had on my to do list for today was work on any of the commissioned paintings that I need to get done. That was it!

So instead I've sculpted a bunch of clay leaves to make into a mobile, gave a kitten a bath, rearranged the sunroom and repotted a few plants, watered my tomatoes, got some eggs from the doves, read a book, did some laundry, made a book press, made a video about making a book press, bought a detail sander and halloween candy, taught Vice to do a double high five, accidentally melted my gardening gloves, went to the animal shelter, and forgot to eat for the entire day.

So I'm pleased to announce that all executives are functioning at 0% capacity, as per normal.

[babbushka]

Last Straw (7/12)

Newly married to your high school sweetheart Kylo Ren, the two of you move into Skywalker Ranch, a farm recently passed down after the death of Kylo’s grandfather. The place is charming, and the people seem friendly…but are they?

Content Warnings:  Violence, gore, blood mentions, mentions of cannibalism

                                                     ----------------

No, you decide ultimately, you have such a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, that you can’t allow them inside your home, inside your farm. You wonder if they jumped your fence, or if they broke the lock, because you were sure Kylo had locked the gate behind you when you returned from the store, you were sure of it.

They’re standing there, expectantly, eerily still. Their eyes are wide and cold, dead like sharks. Except for William’s, who’s are too bright, too sad. You can’t look at him for too long, otherwise your stomach will twist, twist and churn with sadness. His hair is lank and greasy, and it looks like he has some kind of stains on his clothing that you aren’t really sure what they are.

“I’m really very sorry, but I don’t feel right having you sleep in our barn as if you’re animals.” You say, trying to pass it off like you’re being caring, and not that you’re so anxious that you could throw up. “I’m going to call the operator and have them send over a tow truck, I’m sure someone must be awake and working somewhere.”

“What, call right now?” Armitage asks, and his voice is so clipped and sharp that you almost feel the razors of his teeth against your ears.

Kylo hears it too, and he takes a protective step towards the boy. Armitage is dressed a little more put-together than his twin, his hair kept cropped close and short, his clothes buttoned up all the way, everything, the collar, the cuffs. He looks meticulous, where his brother looks unkempt. In fact, both he and Brendol look far more taken care of than William, and you cannot help but feel like something awful is going to happen to this boy, that something awful already has.

“Why is that a problem?” Kylo doesn’t notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you have to grab his shoulder to prevent him from stalking further anymore.

You didn’t know if he would be able to get off the hook a second time.

“No, there’s – there’s no problem, it’s just that – ” William stammers out, eyes too wide and clear, hands fidgeting in the hem of his shirt.

“Just what?” Kylo challenges, but you squeeze his shoulder, an attempt to get him to stop, to just back down for two minutes.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just going to call the tow.” You announce loudly, before leaving Kylo’s side.

The phone is on the wall of the main hallway, an old-fashioned corded thing that if the circumstances were better, you might walk all around the living room with. But the circumstances being what they were, you waste no time punching in 9-1-1, holding your breath for the phone to ring.

“Sweetwater County P.D., what’s your emergency?” A woman picks up, and you let out a sigh of relief, lungs burning from having holding it in for so so so long.

“A strange man and his sons have shown up at our house, asking to sleep on our property. They claim their car is broken down, and I believe them, but I don’t want them here. Is there anyway someone could come down here? I’m frightened.” You rush, your eyes starting to well with panic.

“Ma’am what is your exact location?” The woman on the other line asks, and you’re quick to answer.

“The farmhouse at Skywalker Ranch, off i-Four.” You tell her, and you can hear her calling out officers to send. You and the police have a nasty track record, what with the whole thing with Kylo, but you’re grateful for literally anyone showing up, at this point.

“Does this family have ginger hair by any chance?” The operator asks, and your blood runs cold.

“Yes.” You whisper, clutching the phone in your now trembling hands. “Yes, all three of them.”

“You have to listen to me. Stay where you are, we have dispatched units on the way. These men are armed and dangerous – do not allow them into your home. I repeat they are armed and dangerous.” The woman says and you want to cry, want to scream, want to warn Kylo – but you know that’s stupid, so you just grit your teeth and suppress every urge in your body to punch something.

You don’t know if they’re listening, if they’re watching, from the front door. Your back is to them, so you don’t know. You don’t want to give anything away.

“Fuck, fuck! What do I do? What do we do?” You whisper frantically into the phone.

“Stay on the line with me ma’am, is there anyone else in the home?” She asks, and you nod, even though she can’t see.

“Yes, my husband, oh my god he’s out there talking with them right now!” You start to hyperventilate, just from the sheer absurdity, the sheer terror.

Armed and dangerous.

Armed and dangerous.

They looked like the sick kind of dangerous, the twisted kind.

“Please remain calm, he’ll be alright as long as he can stall, the police are on their way.” The woman assures you, but you spare a glance to the door, and see them growing more and more heated.

“How long? How long do we have to keep them occupied?” You demand, hands fully shaking now, terrified, holding your breath again.

“Five minutes tops, we know exactly where you are. You did the right thing to call us.” The woman says and you chew your lip, chew it, worry it enough that you can taste copper in your mouth.

“I can’t – I can’t stay on the line, it’s going to get suspicious, they’ll know something is wrong.” You explain.

“Ma’am it’s not wise for you to hang up until the police arrive.” The woman says quickly, and you frown, weren’t they supposed to remain calm themselves? Why does she sound like she’s got an edge to her voice?

“I know, I know but my husband is – if he’s there alone he’ll kill them, oh my god he’ll kill them if they try anything.” You realize, knowing exactly where the weapons he kept in the house are, knowing exactly where the axe, the rifle, the revolver were.

And you knew he knew exactly how to use them.

“Are you calling on a cellphone?” The operator asks.

“No, on a landline. I have one but the signal is shit out here, we don’t have a tower anywhere.” You explain, and you can hear her shuffling some things around, clicking on her keyboard.

“Call the station on your cell phone right now, and keep it in your pocket, then hang up this phone and get your husband away from those people you do not want to fuck with them.” She says, voice hard.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You don’t bother to ask any more questions, you fish out your cell phone from the pocket of your robe and with shaking fingers, tap in 9-1-1. When the ringing stops and someone has picked up, you ask, “Are you there?”

“I’m here, now go, keep the phone on. The police will be there any minute.” The woman says, and you do as you’re told.

When you re-join Kylo and Hux at the front door, it seems to be in the nick of time. Kylo’s hands are balled into fists, and his stance is planted, as if he’s ready to attack. Someone a long time ago had once called him a guard dog, an attack dog. They hadn’t been wrong.

Something screams in the distance, some animal, some poor creature with a high pitched gnashing and whine, a mangled, deranged scream.

“What is that?” You ask, but Kylo doesn’t reply, he doesn’t dare look away from Hux. “Where’s Brendol and William?”

The screaming stops.

“Is someone coming?” Brendol asks, emerging from the depths of night, stepping into the light on the porch, seemingly as if summoned. He looks ruffled, and you want to be sick.

“Great news, the operator was able to direct me to a tow company, they’re on their way with some spares.” You lie. It’s not a good lie, not a good lie at all, but how can it be when the gnashing and thrashing starts up again? Like some tortured thing just beyond in the shadows where you can’t see.

“We don’t know how we could ever repay you for your kindness.” Brendol says, although he’s tense, too tense. He doesn’t mean it.

“Oh please don’t worry, it’s no trouble at all, anything to help.” You say. You don’t mean it either.

“May we come inside your lovely home? At least until the tow arrives.” Brendol asks, teeth sharp when he smiles, gums too red, teeth pink. Why were they pink?

“No, I’m sorry, I’m afraid our house is under extreme renovations right now. It wouldn’t be safe, especially not for your boys. I wouldn’t want them getting hurt.” You say, because Kylo is apparently incapable of speech, too angry, doing everything in his power to restrain himself.

“You know it’s really very rude of you, to deny us like this.” Brendol explodes, face red, spit flying from when his temper snaps. “It’s just the barn!”

That is enough for Kylo, that is the last straw. He lunges and tackles the man to the ground, wrestles with him until he has Brendol flat on his back, and begins to pummel the shit out of his face with those hardened calloused knuckles of his.

“Do not!” He begins to scream, to spit at Brendol, “Shout at my fucking wife! Do you understand me?”

“Kylo, it’s alright.” You panic, you shout, you yell, you plead, “Kylo, please.”

Armed and dangerous.

Just then, the sirens and lights come into full effect.

A helicopter hovers over the farm, and you rip Kylo off of this man who bleeds old blood, tarnished blood, blood from his nose and face and you don’t know where else, that soaks and seeps into the wood of the porch.

“Sweetwater Police! Hands where I can see them!” There are all of a sudden too many lights in your face, too many.

“You called the fucking cops?!” Armitage shouts at you, incredulously.

“Hands where I can see them!” The cops say again, and there’s – fuck there’s ten of them, ten officers to wrangle a man and two teenagers.

But Brendol has no desire to comply, and instead of making things easy, he takes advantage of you being so far away from Kylo, and he races towards you, the bright glint of a silver knife shining, blinding you.

He has you pinned against the door, has a blade pressed to your throat, the sharp teeth of the knife slicing your skin, drawing blood, blood that Brendol leans in to lap up with his tongue, barbed like a cat’s.

“Get off of me!” You jerk your knee up, hard in the balls, again and again while his knife cuts deeper and deeper. The pain is completely eclipsed by your panic, completely consumed by terror.

“Papa get off it’s not worth it!” You hear a sobbing voice, a screaming voice, coming from just over there, just outside the ring of the porch-light. With the helicopter’s huge flood-light, now you can see, can see how poor William’s face is carved up, how his cheek is torn open, a gaping hole where you can see into his mouth even as his lips are closed. “Papa please – !”

“Kylo!” You beg, beg for your husband, and he is aided by the police is getting this man off of you.

They drag him away, wrestle him into handcuffs, and you throw yourself into Kylo’s arms.

“Come here, come here.” Kylo says, soothing, shaking, two seconds away from committing a murder himself. He turns to the cops and spits on the floor, “Get these sick fucks off our property.” He says, regarding the men.

“Oh you don’t know just how sick they are.” One of the cops says, in a way that has your eyes falling to William.

He’s been dragged up off the ground, blood gushing from his face.

“Papa please I don’t want to go to jail.” William sobs, snot and spit dripping from his nose and lips, “(Y/N), please, don’t let them take me, don’t let them – ”

You freeze.

“How do you know my name?” You ask, voice low.

“Huh?” He asks, hiccups, eyes so sad, so blue.

“How do you know my name?!” You want to crawl into Kylo’s skin, into his robe, want to be wrapped up and never let go, because how how how did he know your name?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” William doesn’t answer, doesn’t answer that, and you don’t know if that’s worse, worse than knowing.

“Don’t you say a fucking word, boy.” Brendol snarls from where they’re trying to shove him into a straight jacket, into the backseat of the cop car.

There’s so much, so many lights, sirens, cars, cops.

“We were going to kill you,” William wails, “Eat your heart. I told them not to, I told them I didn’t want to but they made me, they made me.” He cries and cries, and your stomach lurches.

“I’m going to kill you!” Brendol lunges suddenly, nearly toppling over the cops who are reaching for guns, reaching for something, you don’t know.

“Sedate him!” One of them shouts, and you realize it’s not a gun at all, but a needle, one that gets stuck right in the meat of Brendol’s thigh.

In only a few moments, the night goes from chaos to calm, with the beast knocked out.

You are still clinging to Kylo, who is clinging to you. His jaw is set, and his eyes are hard, but he is safe, and you are safe.

They load the boys into the back of a car. Armitage is silent the entire time. William can’t stop crying and shaking.

A paramedic comes over, attends to the wound on your neck, cleans it. Kylo refuses to let you out of his arms, but you are able to turn in his embrace to face the woman who tapes up gauze bandages against your throat.

“What happens now?” You ask her, not wanting to talk to the cops, “What’s going to happen to them?”

You really mean William, you’re not sure if she should be tending to you, when the kid is missing half a cheek, just a few feet away.  

“They’re all going to go away for a long time.” The paramedic says, voice soft. “SWPD’s been trying to catch these psychopaths for months, they’ve pulled this stunt three times so far and have been successful every time.” She says, and you find you don’t feel so sorry for them anymore.

A cop comes over as the cars are driven away, as the sirens grow more and more distant.

“We’re going to keep watch here all night, in case anything else happens, but for now, go inside. Get some sleep if you can.” He says, and you almost want to laugh at that, at the notion of a good night’s sleep, after what just happened, what you just saw. “We’re going to need you to fill out paperwork in the morning.”

You feel better knowing that they’ll be there all night, feel better knowing they’re locked away and being taken even farther.

Kylo wraps his arms tight around you once more, hugs your back against his chest, as you watch the helicopter follow the cop cars.

“Fuck, and I thought I was the scariest thing living here.” Kylo says finally, low in your ear.

“Could you imagine what might have happened? If we invited them to stay?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

As the wheat fields sway back and forth, back and forth in the wind, as the sirens now disappear, as the sounds of night replace the screaming, the squelching, the gnashing, he sighs.

“No.” Kylo says, “I honestly, really can’t.”

But you can find out.

Go back to the beginning and make new choices, see where the night will take you.

Will you survive? Or suffer a fate more gruesome than you could possibly imagine?

[118eddie]

Wingmen || BUDDIE

Buck stretched out his arms in front of him, craning his neck from side to side as he stretched his body out. He hadn't been somebody's wingman in quite some time and wanted to mentally prepare himself. And at least this time he was pretty sure he wouldn't end up taking the person his friend was trying to flirt with... that didn't end well, for all parties involved. Besides, Buck wasn't Buck 1.0 anymore, so even if he wasn't going with Josh to a gay bar, he'd still be pretty sure of that. No, Buck had moved on from all of that, from the parties and the meaningless sex and the rule breaking. He had Abby to thank for it, really, she had showed him that he could be domestic and committed. Even if she'd turned around and broken his heart, he supposed he still owed her plenty. 

He debated driving his car, to make sure he could remain the sober voice of reason for Josh, but decided against it, taking an Uber instead... just because he wasn't looking to hook up, didn't mean he couldn't drink. And really, he had no qualms about enjoying himself, gay bar or not. He had bartened in South America for a year after leaving (~running away from~) home, and had plenty of fun there, dancing with people. Men, women, didn't matter, it was only dancing and drinking and he wasn't a nun. He felt bad for saying no to Eddie, he loved spending time with him and Chris more than any two people in the whole world (even Maddie, not that he'd admit that to her), but he also wanted to help Josh. The guy was suffering and who was Buck to say no to some help? When the Uber pulled outside of the club, he got out and spotted Josh outside of the club, and gave him a wide grin, jogging over to him. "Hey, man... ready to get some hot ass?" Josh gave him a look, "don't do that." Then he paused, "but, fine. Yes."

Some time later, he sat at the bar, watching as Josh looked disappointed after talking to somebody and feeling much more sober than he should. "This sucks," Josh said, coming back to Buck with an empty glass, flagging the bartender down for another. Buck laughed, "hey man, you have to kiss a few frogs before you find a prince, right?" He said, Josh making a face at the words. Josh ordered two shots but before he could grab them, Buck was quickly taking the two shots that had just been placed down and throwing them both back, right after one another and ignoring Josh's protests. The bartender was quick to replace them, throwing a wink in Buck's direction as he did. Buck smirked and nodded and turned back to a frowning Josh. 

"How do you do that?" Buck shrugged, ignoring the question, "if it makes you feel any better, that hot brunette at the bar there has been making eyes at you for the past," he glanced at his watch, "40 minutes. Probably should go talk to him. I already told him you're a catch." Josh turned to look and then looked back at Buck with his mouth agape. "Why didn't you tell me, you dickhead." "You needed to get some stuff out of your system first... now go get em, tiger." He winked at him and Josh rolled his eyes, quick to take the two shots before Buck could again, causing the firefighter to pout. "Rude... oh, thank you," he grinned, as the bartender slid another drink to him and Josh rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable," he muttered, but took the two shots and approached the man Buck had pointed out, who actually looked relieved to be finally speaking to the other man.

Several drinks later, Josh came back up to him, the other man in tow, "Buck... we're gonna go." Buck, whose body was buzzing with the alcohol well and truly now, looked at them both with a drunken grin, "yeah, you are... get it, Joshua." Josh laughed, "you gonna be okay?" "Yeah, yeah - I'll be fine, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Except the gay s-" "Okay, we get it! Thank you Buck, I'll text Maddie to check on you in the morning... something tells me you'll be sleeping off a massive hangover." "Pfft, I don't get hungov- oh, you're leaving okay bye!" 

He watched Josh leave with the other man, and then turned back to his empty glass with a frown. "Want another," a different bartender from before asked and Buck shook his head, starting to feel a bit woozy, "nah, man, I think I'm done. But thanks." He pulled out some cash, as a tip and then took his phone out, dialling the only person his drunk brain could think of. Eddie.

Eddie had recently just returned home, first from dropping Christopher's at Aunt Pepa's place, who insisted to have him overnight on that Friday night. His son loved spending time with his aunt so Eddie was happy to leave him there any time he could. He took that time to make some needed grocery shopping to stock their cabinet for  the upcoming week, and after he got home and put everything in its right place he took a shower, thinking he would spent the rest of the night simply watching some tv and telling himself he would do the laundry early the next morning. 

That was pretty much the case, until his phone buzzed with an incoming message. 

About ten minutes later he was starting his truck and driving to the address Buck told him he was at, and since it was already somewhat late, the streets had light traffic going on. He made it to the pub rather quick, and after he got out of the truck he looked around to see if he could make out where his friend was.

@118buck

When Eddie didn't answer the phone call, Buck had sulked. He knew he was probably busy, and he shouldn't expect his best friend to drop everything for him but he was drunk and bored and clearly not hooking up tonight given he was in a gay bar - not that he wanted to anyway. Buck 1.0 was in the past. But whoever said drunk Buck made smart decisions, regardless of being Buck 1.0 or Buck 2.0, was an idiot. Because if Eddie wasn't going to answer his call, he'd message him instead. 

Eddie. Eddieeeeeeeee. 

Josh ditchd me. 

Bastard. 

I probly shouldt have had that last shot. 

Or the one b4 

There was some other messages sent and in amongst that he'd managed to mention where he was to Eddie and when his friend told him to stay where he was and don't try to walk home like Buck had suggested, he made his way out of the bar. He was drunk, his body buzzing pleasantly, but he wasn't blackout drunk. He could still walk in a mostly straight line... mostly. 

"Eddie!" He said, his face breaking in to a wide and genuine grin when he saw the other man getting out of his truck, "why are you here? Are you my Uber?"

There was no way Eddie wouldn't hear Buck calling out to him, especially with how drunk he seemed to be; but he didn't mind. He was just glad his friend had enough witt left to call him to pick him over to go home, instead of driving or something else also dangerous. "Kind of" he said with a chuckle as he finally walked up to him. "You texted me, you idiot. You asked me to come pick you up." He patted his shoulder. "So, Josh ditched you? I'm guessing he scored after all." He chuckled. "You didn't get any numbers yourself?"

Buck's expression turned to one of understanding when Eddie said he'd texted him, and he remembered that now. Not drunk he reminded himself, those last two shots hadn't felt like anything. "I remember," he said with a nod and then shrugged. "He did. I told you, I'm a great wingman. The best." He emphasised, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaned against. "A couple," he laughed, "but I'm not going to use them Eddie, that would be silly." They made their way over to Eddie's truck, and Buck climbed into the passenger seat. "Wait," his head snapped around to the backseat, "where's Chris?"

Eddie chuckled as he grabbed hold on Buck's arm. "Well, I'm not that experienced in being a wingman, but I think that only applies if you helped him get with that guy, so did you?" He nodded and looked away. "Of course that'd be silly. Why would you anyway?" he said as he opened the door on the side of the passenger, then almost jumped back when Buck asked that in such an alarming way. "He's with Aunt Pepa this weekend."

Buck looked at Eddie with an almost childlike confusion on his face - "but earlier, you asked me if I wanted to come over and have pizza with you guys. Wait." His mouth opened in a small o shape, "I did interrupt some plans with that hot English teacher, did I? You didn't like send Chris off to Aunt Pepa's and then ... like ... invited her over? Am I crashing your date - I can't crash your date after I was just the most awesome wingman, my reputation will be ruined," he said, babbling.

Eddie shook his head, while trying to get Buck on the passenger's seat. "You didn't interrupt anything, Buck. I wouldn't have invited you over and have a date with her at the same time. Plus, she's my son's teacher, so I'm not sure that'd be a good idea anyway." He looked at him and shrugged. "Aunt Peppa just wanted to have him for the weekend, that's all." He sighed and shook his head. "Shut up and buckle up so we can go home, or you need me to do that for you?"

"Didn't you just say earlier today you wanted to date pretty hot brunette teacher? That's a pretty fast turnaround," Buck reached for the seatbelt, frowning when it got stuck and didn't let him pull it forward. He gave it a few tugs, unintentionally not letting it retract so it wouldn't give, and then pouted at Eddie, "it's stuck. Is your truck broken?"

Eddie sighed. "Stop pimping me out to Chris' teacher, Buck. I'll decide if I see her or not. Just rest asure, that wasn't happening tonight, so shut up already." He reached his hand out to get the seatbelt unstuck, for which he had to almost bend over Buck's lap. "There you go. Watch your head" he said before he closed the door and went around the truck quickly to get in himself. He started the motor and it wasn't long before they were heading back to Buck's place.

"Okay, sorry," Buck replied, with a tone of a pout to his voice. He supposed maybe dating your kid's teacher was frowned upon by some people so Eddie probably had a point. He craned his head to look out the window to see the houses and streets passing by, light up by the street lights. "Wait... this isn't the way to your place. I like your place." He leaned back in the seat and crossed his arms, "it's more homey and you and Chris are there. My place is boring."

Eddie had first considered taking Buck to his place and then staying on the couch downstairs to make sure his friend was taken care of when he woke up the next morning with a massive hangover; but as he heard the other talking about how boring his place was, another idea came to mind. "Fine. I'll take you to my place then. It's best if I'm there anyway, in case Aunt Peppa calls me or something." He took the next exit so he could head down the other way, to the neighborhood where his house was.

"Yay!" Buck replied, settling back into the seat happily. Eddie's place was so much more of a home than his. His was lovely, sure, it ticked all the boxes for what a lot of people looked for in an apartment - open, bright, clean. But for him, it was really just a place to crash after a long shift. And there had been no long shifts lately, obviously, because of his leg. Before he'd got to the 118, he didn't really know what a home could feel like. The house he'd grown up in never really felt safe or homey. But then he'd got to the 118, and he'd met the team and understood why some people liked being at home. Bobby and Athena's place, Hen and Karen's - and now the Diaz's. Plus, it helped that Eddie and Chris were two of his favourite people so if their house bested Bobby and Athena's for the number one spot well... he just wouldn't tell Bobby. Or Athena. Especially Athena. Through all his thoughts, he hadn't realised how tired he was - coming down from the high of the alcohol buzz - and before he realised it, he was sleeping while Eddie was still driving, snoring softly (though he would deny that later - as far as he was aware, he only snored when he was drunk, so it wasn't important information).

Eddie raised a brow when he heard a loud snoring sound coming from the passenger's seat, and when they stopped at a traffc light he turned to look at him and chuckled before he shook his head and continued driving when the light turned green. At the final stop sign before they made it to his house he turned his head to look at him again, this time lingering on the profile of his face that resulted from a street light just at the right spot. He didn't even realize he was staring, until the sound of a loud honk came from behind him, from other car with an urge to move on. He cleared his throat and looked both ways on the road before he moved too. "Wake up" he told the other and smacked his arm. "We're  here." He pulled over on his driveway and turned the motor off.

Buck groaned when Eddie's hand smacked his arm, not wanting to be disturbed from his sleep. But he wasn't so drunk to know that sleep would be far more comfortable if he forced himself to get out of the car and onto Eddie's couch. "Ugh, fine," he grumbled, the five minute nap already making a valiant effort at sobering him up. He managed to unbuckle the seatbelt and slide out of the car, landing on both feet. He followed Eddie inside, flopping onto the couch as soon as it was in front of him. "I'm gonna regret this tomorrow, aren't I?" He asked, looking through his lashes up at Eddie.

Eddie walked ahead of Buck toward the door, once it was obvious the other could actually walk, then he opened it and let his friend in. "Oh, yeah. But don't worry about that. I'll have the aspirin and plenty of water at hand for you to take when you wake up. And if you feel like it, then maybe I'll throw in some breakfast too, how about that?" He guided him to where the couch was and helped him out of his jacket. "I can lend you a pair of sweats if you want a change of clothes?"

"Aww..." Buck smiled at Eddie, with an expression that could only be described as starry eyed. "You're the best, Eddie. A real life super hero." He paused and then giggled, "I guess that's why you're a firefighter. Do you feel like a hero sometimes? I keep trying... maybe one day I will." He shook his head when Eddie suggested clothes and snuggled into the couch, "mmm... no, I'm too comfy, man. Can't move. I'll just -" He unbutton his jeans, pushing them down so he could shimmy out of them without barely moving from the couch, leaving him in just a pair of boxers and his shirt. Eddie and him and the rest of the team changed in front of each other all the time at the station - even if he wasn't working right now so he didn't think anything of it. "There," he said, resting his head against the cushion on the couch and shutting his eyes and fuck he was so tired all of a sudden, "I'm good."

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. "I'm no super hero, man. Just trying to be nice with a friend, that's all." He patted his shoulder. "Well, I've heard that you've done epretty heroic things. Hen keeps telling me about it, and she's been very impressed by you." He stood back while Buck took his pants off, then went to the hallway closet to get a blanket, since the one on the couch would probably be too short for someone as big as Buck. "Okay then. See you in the morning" he said as he spread the blanket on top of Buck. "Shout if you need anything, okay? Good night, Buck." He smiled at him and turned the lights out before going into his bedroom; he leaned against the door after he closed it behind it and sighed.

Buck snorted at Eddie's comment - he didn't feel like a superhero. He kept trying, trying to be better, be stronger, be faster but he was still watching from the side lines. The last thing he did as a firefighter was be crushed by a ladder truck which hardly seems heroic. The doctors were impressed with his progress, said he was showing good signs of returning to work but there was still this lingering doubt over his head - that he'll never be good enough for the 118 again and they'd slowly forget about him. They hadn't yet, sure, they were all positive he'd be returning but if he didn't? It wouldn't take long for them to forget his existence and move on without him. 

Of course Buck didn't voice any of those thoughts. He wouldn't have said them, even if he was sober and his mouth could form the words. But they still rattled around in his head, louder and louder each passing day, especially when he was home alone. "G'dnight, Eds," he said as his only reply, pulling the blanket around his chin. Eddie had clearly given him a large doona, because even with pulling it up, his feet were still covered.

END SCENE.

[today-we-will-survive]

Welcome to Camp Bangtan pt. 11

Summer Camp au!

Jungkook x Reader/Y/N

Fluff

Word Count: 2,478

Part 1 | Previous | Next | Master List

A/N: New parts every Tuesday and Friday!

When Jungkook opened his eyes, it was still pitch dark outside. He lay there confused for several seconds wondering what had woken him so suddenly when a groan cut through the silence from beneath him. Slowly, he shifted and peered at the bunk below. By the pale moonlight filtering in through the window, he could just make out a squirming shape.

“Yoongi?” he whispered, his voice rough with sleep. “Are you alright, man?”

The boy didn’t respond, only groaned louder and clutched at his stomach. The other campers began to stir as Jungkook climbed down from his bunk. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked louder now that everyone else was waking up.

Another moan cut through the air. “Oh, my stomach,” he moaned. “Ah, it hurts.”

There was a rustle right by Jungkook’s head. “What’s wrong with Yoongi?” Taehyung asked in his ear.

Jungkook kneeled down. “I don’t know,” he said and Yoongi suddenly keeled forward, letting out a cry that filled the cabin with the sounds of a dying, feral cat. “Sejin!”

The junior counselor appeared suddenly on the floor beside him. “What’s the matter Yoongi? What hurts?” he asked.

“My stomach!” Yoongi cried. “Ah, it hurts so bad!”

Namjoon shined his flashlight onto the scene, the light reflecting off the sheen of sweat covering Yoongi’s skin. His mint hair was plastered in strings to his forehead and a whimper escaped his ghost white lips as Sejin carefully pulled his shirt up to examine his stomach. Jungkook couldn’t see anything as he peered over the counselor’s shoulder. But then the guy tugged the material further exposing a bright red and white wound on the right side of his chest.

“Whoa!”

Everyone stepped away from Yoongi and Sejin and the flashlight beam shot up to the ceiling.

“Could you get that light back here, please?” Sejin asked irritated. Namjoon refocused the light and Jungkook watched, Taehyung now peering over his shoulder, his camera trained on Sejin and Yoongi as the counselor examined the wound closer. “It looks like some sort of spider bite,” he said and Yoongi groaned again. “It could be a venomous spider.” Then he turned to face the rest of them. “Jungkook, Taehyung, I need you guys to go get Sihyuk. We may need to get Yoongi to a hospital.”

“On it,” Jungkook said grabbing the enthralled Taehyung by the neck of his shirt and tugging him out the door with him.

Y/N and Rosé were hurrying down the steps of their cabin on the heels of their own junior counselor, Jisoo.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “We could hear screaming all the way from inside our cabin.”

“A spider tried to eat Yoongi!” Taehyung exclaimed and turned his camera back on. “It’s like a horror movie in the making.”

“Put that thing away, man!” Jungkook yelled hitting it hard enough to knock the thing out of his hands. Lucky for Taehyung the strap around his neck kept it from falling on the ground. “We’re going to get Sihyuk now,” Jungkook said to the girls before grabbing Taehyung by the wrist. “Come on.”

-------

The two broke out of the woods and jogged across the soccer field. “Seriously, you need to stop with the video camera,” Jungkook said between breaths.

“What? This is like the most exciting thing that has happened all week. Just think. This could be the last time anyone sees poor Yoongi alive.”

They reached the counselors’ cabin next to the Hall in no time and Jungkook rapped his knuckles against the door. “It’s just a spider bite,” he said. “Yoongi will be fine.” Then he glanced at Taehyung out of the corner of his eye. “Right?”

Taehyung shrugged and shook his head.

Jungkook used the side of his fist this time to beat on the door. “Sihyuk!” he yelled. “Sihyuk, wake up!”

The door flew open seconds later to reveal the counselor rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on, boys?” he cracked.

“It’s Yoongi,” Taehyung said quickly. “He got bit by a spider and Sejin thinks it’s bad.”

Sihyuk reached for his jacket hanging on a hook beside the door and stepped out onto the small porch, cursing under his breath. “Alright,” he said suddenly more alert. “I’ll call an ambulance and head back to your cabin. Could you two wait here for it to come and lead them down?”

“Of course,” Jungkook said but Sihyuk was already cutting through the soccer field, his cell phone up to his ear.

Neither boy said anything as they watched the head counselor disappear down the path leading to the West cabins. The reality of the situation suddenly hit Jungkook like a ton of bricks. A possibly venomous spider had been just chilling in their cabin, possibly crawling all over their things, hiding in their bags. What if it had chosen to bite the person on top of the bunk instead of underneath? Ice shot up Jungkook’s spine at the thought of him being doubled over in pain instead of poor Yoongi. He hoped the kid was going to be alright.

“So, tell everyone what happened, Kook,” Taehyung said. Jungkook turned to glare into the camera and Taehyung immediately got the hint, lowering it back down again to rest against his stomach.

The ambulance showed up just a few minutes later, red lights cutting harshly through the darkness, leeching the green from the surrounding area. Jungkook had been sitting with Taehyung on the porch of the counselor cabin but as soon as the ambulance pulled in, he hopped down and jogged over to meet them. After they fetched a stretcher from the back of the truck, the paramedics followed the boys back into the woods.

The whole scene was a bit chaotic and Jungkook just stood back and watched it unfold in front of him. The paramedics carefully lifted Yoongi onto the stretcher, his skin paler than before if that was even possible and he let out another weak groan as they wheeled him out the door. Jungkook trailed behind, finally joining the rest of his cabin mates outside. They now huddled, along with the campers from the other three cabins out in the center of the campground, everyone watching in silence as Sihyuk and the paramedics disappeared back down the trail with Yoongi in tow.

“I hope he’s going to be alright,” someone uttered and suddenly the air was filled with whispered conversations.

“Alright, everyone,” Sejin called out. “Excitement’s over. Time to go back to your cabins and go to bed.”

“Screw that!” Taehyung snapped. “Not if there’s a man-eating spider somewhere in our cabin. I don’t want my insides turning to goo like Yoongi’s.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Jungkook said, uneasiness just barely touching his voice. He turned to Sejin. “He’s fine, right?”

Now everyone turned to the junior counselor and his face turned about as red as his hair. “Yeah, maybe it would be a good idea if we stayed in the Hall tonight.”

With that, the crowd dispersed, the other campers heading back into their own cabins while the boys of the West Blue Cabin trudged back in after their counselor to collect their stuff. Everyone but Jungkook.

He stood close to Y/N, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his sweats, eyes glued to the ground as she touched his arm.

“I hope Yoongi’s okay,” Jungkook said, the sick feeling in his stomach growing worse the more he thought about how weak the boy had looked when they’d wheeled him away.

Y/N’s grip on his arm tightened and he lifted his face to look at her. Though he knew she couldn’t tell him that everything was going to turn out alright, he still felt a little better. How was she able to do that? Jungkook found himself taking a small step toward her, then a huge one back as the door to his cabin burst open behind him.

“Grabbed your stuff, Kook,” Taehyung called, holding up his pillow and sleeping bag. “I shook it out really well, you know, in case the spider had planned to claim you as its next victim.”

Y/N stood there glaring at her brother, her eyes so menacing, they froze him at the bottom of the steps.

“What?”

“Couldn’t you at least pretend to be a little sensitive to the situation?” she asked him, her arms folded across her chest. Any trace of the moment she and Jungkook had shared before was gone.

Rosé clambered out the door of her own cabin, lugging her bag, pillow and sleeping bag as well as Y/N’s behind her. The other campers in the West Blue Girls’ cabin followed behind her.

“You, go back in your cabins,” Sejin said trying to sound authoritative even as he fumbled with his own stuff.

“No way,” Rosé said. “I refuse to be eaten by a big, hairy spider.” She hefted her sleeping bag up higher prompting Taehyung to drop his armload and rush over to help her. What a gentleman, Jungkook thought, glancing at his own stuff that now lay in the dirt.

Sejin let out a sigh and threw his head back. “Do I have no authority in this place?” he muttered.

“Not after what happened two years ago, Pepper Ann,” Taehyung said as he slung Rosé’s bag over one shoulder.  Then he leaned into Jungkook. “Jaemin and his buddies strung him up by his boxers during the obstacle course. No one even knew he was missing for like an hour after that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sejin said to quiet everyone down. “the girls can come too, but you’re all sleeping on opposite sides of the room.”

“I probably won’t be doing much sleeping after all this,” Taehyung said and shuttered dramatically.

Jungkook watched as Sejin started down the path toward the Hall with the campers from both of the West Blue cabins trailing close behind. He probably wouldn’t be doing much sleeping that night either. Not with how worried he was about Yoongi.

After grabbing his stuff that Taehyung had dropped on the ground, Jungkook hurried to catch up with the others that had already disappeared down the path.

The Hall looked so different deserted and dark, making Jungkook feel even more uneasy. He quickly swallowed the feeling and helped push all of the tables against the outer walls, clearing a big space in the middle for everyone to lay out their stuff.

“Not the most comfortable floor I’ve ever slept on,” Taehyung uttered once everyone had settled down into their sleeping bags.

“Would you rather be back in your cabin with the spider?” Y/N asked from somewhere too far away from Jungkook.

“Nooooo thank you.”

“Stop talking, Taehyung, and go to sleep,” Sejin muttered sleepily from where he lay near the front entrance.

No one spoke after that, uneasiness clinging to the air like a heavy fog. Jungkook especially could feel it as he stared at the ceiling. Sleep tugged at the backs of his eyes but every time he closed them, images flashed through the darkness of Yoongi’s pale face contorted in pain and that angry, red bite on his chest.

With all the excitement, he hadn’t even had time to think about getting caught on the other side of the lake earlier that day. A new sensation washed over him when he thought about the fact that Taehyung was planning on continuing the search during the hike. Jungkook wasn’t the kind of boy to go looking for trouble. He’d already betrayed his parents’ trust completely once. And the fact that they finally let him stay so many nights away from home made him feel even worse. Sure, most teenagers might think his parents were strict and maybe they were but they had good reason to be.

As Jungkook continued sinking into his guilt, his thoughts began to blur, watering down until his mind could no longer string enough information together to form a complete one. At last, sleep pulled him under, his parents’ disappointed faces, Taehyung’s ashamed eyes and Yoongi’s cries of pain haunting his dreams.

---

Gray light filtered in through all the windows as the campers from the West Blue Cabins began to stir. Jungkook let out a groan, blindly reaching a hand up to clutch his stiff neck. From right next to his ear, Taehyung snored loudly causing him to crack open an eyelid. A string of drool fell from the boy’s mouth and landed on the linoleum tile.

With a disgusted scoff, Jungkook slowly—painfully—sat up and scanned the room. Sejin stood by the front doors talking quietly with Sihyuk and Jiyoung. Each of them had a serious expression on their faces. Immediately, Jungkook thought of Yoongi. What happened to him? Was he alright? Jungkook got up quickly, shoving Taehyung hard to wake him up. With a snort, the boy opened his eyes then scrambled to his own feet to stumble after Jungkook.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked when he reached the counselors. “Is Yoongi okay?”

“Yoongi is doing just fine,” Jiyoung said reassuringly. “He got bit by a black widow.”

“A black widow?” Taehyung cracked and Jungkook turned to see a thoughtful look on his face.

“Is he coming back to camp?”

“Later today if he’s feeling up to it,” Jiyoung said. “Over the phone, it sounded like he was eager to return, so one of us will go and get him after lunch.”

“The fumigators finished up about an hour ago so you guys should be able to return to your cabin by tonight,” Sihyuk said.

All of this information made Jungkook let out a deep sigh of relief, his head falling back as he felt the heaviness of last night lift from his shoulders. Yoongi was alright. Everything was going to be okay.

He and Taehyung made their way over to the far corner where the girls sat on their sleeping bags to share the good news.

“That’s a relief,” Y/N said with an exasperated sigh. “I’m glad to hear Yoongi is coming back. I’d hate to miss his and Namjoon’s annual rap performance at the Open Mic night on Sunday.”

Rosé let out a loud shutter, her shoulders shaking. “Ugh, I hate spiders,” she groaned.

“Then the last place you should be is summer camp,” Y/N replied with a knowing smile.

“I didn’t figure there would be black widows here.” Rosé pulled her sleeping bag tightly around herself.

“There aren’t.”

The three turned to find Taehyung staring inquisitively down at the ground. He’d been quiet ever since Jiyoung had broken the news to them. He looked up to meet their eyes. “At least not in this region.” The other three looked at him surprised. “I did a report on them in third grade,” he said with a shrug.

Now, Jungkook mirrored his confused expression. “Then what was one doing in our cabin?”

[jamesbuckfastbarnes]

Sober pt.1

Chibs Telford/OC (Anastazja Kozik)

WARNING: this story does contain a shit ton of substance abuse, so you have been warned in advance. Also, I’ve never been through heroin addiction so if you feel as though anything I’ve wrote is incorrect then please feel free to message me so I know where I’ve gone wrong. - red-w00dy xoxo

Slapping at the inside of my left elbow, I scanned my pale skin in search of a vein but failed miserably. I removed the homemade tourniquet from my arm and threw it to the floor in frustration, beginning to pace back and forth in my kitchen with a needle full of heroin in my hand as I debated how I could get my fix. There was no way a vein was going to show up in either arm anytime soon, I had been trying for the past hour and a half without any success. With a heavy sigh, I sat on one of the kitchen chairs, lifted my leg and removed the sock from my right foot, pulling my big toe to the side to separate it from the others and a smile formed on my face when I caught sight of it. A perfectly healthy vein. I grabbed my beloved needle and pressed the tip into my skin, pushing down to inject the heroin into my system. By the time I had emptied the needle into my body, euphoria took over me like a spirit possessing my body, feeling as though my entire body was burning in a pleasurable way. I slumped to the cold floor after ten minutes or so, the needle discarded next to me as I gazed up at the cupboards above me and succumbed to the numb feeling that took over.

 I hadn't always been an addict. In fact, if you had told me six years ago that I'd be injecting myself with heroin in my kitchen aged twenty five then I'd have probably laughed at you and called you an idiot. It all started when my brother, Herman, and I had gotten hooked on meth when I was twenty and he was twenty four. It had taken him over three years to kick the habit and, as much as I tried, I never managed to stop. Instead I went chasing after a better high, something to make me forget completely, which is when I discovered heroin. I had fallen in love with the rush and the numbness that followed after the second or third time I tried it, resulting in me spending the last two years wasting all my money and stealing from people to carry on the everlasting high. I'd done several stints in rehab but it never lasted long. I would spend two weeks being sober before craving the euphoric feeling I could only get from inside a needle.

 “Ana, wake up. Come on, Anastazja, I need you to wake up for me now,” my brother’s voice broke through the drug induced haze I was in, my eyes opening and taking a few minutes to focus on the multiple faces that stared down at me. “Come on, let's get you up and onto the sofa. Can't be comfortable lying on this cold kitchen floor, can it?”

 “I love you, Hemmy, you know that? Why don't you get high with me like the old days, it feels so good, you know? Like I'm floating on a cloud and everything's just a lovely dream,” I slurred, barely feeling him lift me up and carry me over to the sofa where he lay me down. I allowed my head to rest against the arm of the two seater, staring up at the ceiling with a soft smile.

 “Christ, bro, she's really out of it this time, huh? Are we gonna just leave her here like this or are we taking her back to the clubhouse?” a raspy voice I knew belonged to Kozik’s best friend, Happy Lowman, asked quietly, my head turning to see both of them standing there next to me. I reached out to grab Happy’s hand and squeezed, receiving a ghost of a smile in response.

 “No, not yet, we'll wait for her to sober up a little first. I ain't taking her anywhere in this state, she could end up freaking out and going under if we move her too soon,” Herman sighed, his words barely audible due to the heroin dulling my senses. He stepped forward and gently raised my head, resting it in his lap once he'd sat down and began to run his fingers through my tangled blonde hair. It felt nice, calming even.

 “Why don't you just check her into rehab or something?” Someone I didn't know suggested, my entire body going tense at the thought of going cold turkey again. Herman and Happy noticed my stiffness immediately, Herman beginning to whisper soothing words in fluent Polish into my ear whilst Happy shook his head at their friend, his face looking like a blurred mess due to the drug-induced haze I was in.

 “Not right now, Tig. Why don't you boys go back to Charming? Kozik and I will be back later when Ana’s sobered up a bit. We'll be back before the party tonight,” Happy mumbled to the man named Tig, glancing down at me with a worried frown before turning back to his group of friends that were standing by the kitchen door. They all shrugged and headed out of my apartment, ignoring me waving goodbye to them all from my place in Herman’s lap.

 Four hours later I found myself in the tow truck between Herman and Happy, several blankets wrapped around me due to how cold I felt and my head resting against Herman’s shoulder, my eyes half open. My stomach was cramping and the pain was unimaginable, signalling that the withdrawal symptoms were starting to kick in. Along with the shivering and the cramps, I was feeling incredibly nauseous and my head was pounding like someone was smashing a hammer repeatedly into the back of my skull. I huddled closer to my older brother in an attempt to soak up some of his warmth, his arm immediately slipping round my shoulders to pull me close to his side. It must have taken an hour or so to get from my apartment to the clubhouse in Charming, although due to the fact I was still relatively high, it felt like we'd been driving forever. We pulled into the lot for Teller-Morrow Automotives just as it started to get dark, Herman and Happy wrapping their arms around me to basically carry me into the clubhouse because I was still struggling with the use of my legs. They sat me down on one of the sofa's by the wall once we were inside, Happy covering me with two more blankets he received from a short man with mechanical hands whilst Herman went in search of a man called Chibs. The sweats were starting to kick in by the time my brother returned, followed by a tall man with scars on his face, and Happy had wrapped his arms around me in an attempt to make me feel warm, the shakes starting to get progressively worse as time went on. Herman introduced his friend as ‘Chibs’ and dropped down on the sofa next to me, Chibs crouching down in front of me and passing Happy a bottle of Gatorade and two Tylenol pills to help with my cramps. Herman shook me slightly to snap me out of where I was staring at the pool table in front of me, causing me to blink a few times to focus properly before flashing him a weak smile.

 “Alright, lass, I'm Chibs,” Chibs said kindly in a thick Scottish accent, balancing himself on the tips of his toes as he bent down in front of me and looked up at me with his dark brown eyes. “We're going tae help ye get through this. I just need ye tae drink some of this fer yer sugar levels and take these pills, they'll help with yer cramps and the headache ye've no doubt got.”

 “I'm fine, I don't know why you brought me here,” I rolled my eyes when his attention directed to the track marks covering my arms, turning away from the Scot to face my older brother. “Herman, is there any way can you lend me some money for a cab home? I haven't got any cash on me right now but I can give it back to you once I'm able to get to the bank.”

 “We both know I can't do that, Ana. You're here to sort yourself out. That means no money, no drugs, nothing for the next few weeks until you've completely detoxed. You're staying with us and you'll have someone watching you at all times,” Herman told me, his blue eyes swimming with determination and a hint of sadness.

 “This is fucking bullshit!” I screamed at him, standing up on shaky legs and whipping round to glare down at my older brother. He stared back at me like he was expecting this to happen, expecting me to flip out at what he was trying to do. “I'm a grown fucking woman, I don't need help. If I needed help then I'd go to rehab. I'm fine, why can't you just accept that?”

 “We care about you, Ana, we wouldn't be doing this otherwise. Take the painkillers, drink your gatorade and we'll talk again when you've calmed down a bit. But for now, we're going to lock you in Chibs’ room because this place is gonna be full of people in about ten minutes,” Happy sighed, holding the Tylenol and Gatorade out to me, watching like a hawk until I choked down the pills with the sugary drink.

 “Now I've done what you asked. It was nice to see you all but I'm off home, I ain't staying in this shithole anymore,” I hissed, grabbing my blankets off the sofa and starting to make my way towards the front door to the left of me. I'd moved about five steps when Happy’s arms slipped around my waist, lifting me off my feet as he carried me down a hallway with the other two. “Get the fuck off me! This is kidnapping, you know? I'll call the cops!”

 “How are supposed to call the cops when you sell every phone you get for smack?” My brother smirked as Chibs pushed open the bedroom door, leaving Happy to drop me down on the bed and leave the room before I could escape. The click of the door told me they had locked it from the outside, causing me to start pounding on the wood and screaming to let me out.

 “Please! I promise to get clean if you just let me out, I'll go crazy in here!” I begged, hammering my fists against the door for several minutes until eventually I gave up, sliding down the door and resting my head against it with a heavy sigh. I heard the others talking about me in the hallway, Herman’s voice louder than everyone else's which didn't surprise me in the slightest. He'd always been a loudmouth for as long as I could remember.

 “You can't trust her,” Herman’s voice drifted through the crack under the door, my heart breaking slightly at his words. I wasn't that bad, it's not like I'd kill to get a fix or anything. “She'll lie, cheat and steal to get junk, she's an addict after all. Just keep your wallets close, don't leave her alone and lock your doors if you're not in there. And please, for the love of God, don't give her any money. She needs to get clean or she's going to end up dead.”

 "We've spent more money bailing her out of jail than the club has spent on bond funds overall. Even prison didn't sober her up for long, that's why we need to do this now or she's going to end up back inside. Or worse. This is our only shot to sort her out, we can't fuck it up, not again,” Happy added, referring to my six month stint in Stockton last year after I'd been arrested for stealing.

 Their voices faded, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps, which told me that they were leaving the hallway to join the party that they were throwing in the main part of the clubhouse. The withdrawal symptoms were getting worse and I couldn’t help but think that I would never wish how I felt on anyone, not even my worst enemy. All I knew was that I needed a fix. Just one more hit to help me get past the nausea, to stop my skin from crawling and help me stop shaking like I had just seen a ghost. I focused on nothing but getting a fix into my system for the next few hours. My head felt like it was going to explode if I didn’t take anything soon, and I just wanted one measly needle’s worth to help me get over the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. Around four in the morning, I could hear nothing but the occasional moan from the room next door to Chibs’ and someone snoring which sounded as though it was pretty far away, most likely in the main room of the clubhouse. I took a long swig of my gatorade before pulling myself into a standing position, glancing around the room for something I could use to break the lock and escape the place I was being held captive in. I was becoming desperate, and quite frankly, I’d do anything to experience that blissfull feeling just one more time.

 My gaze fell on a lamp on the bedside table, my feet carrying me over to it on their own accord and next thing I knew, the bedroom door was swinging open like I had unlocked it with a key. I tiptoed down the hallway as quietly as possible, stepping into the room to see everyone had passed out in various spots around the room. One of the prospects, Filthy Phil, was unconscious with his wallet poking out the top of his jeans, and I couldn’t help myself. I needed the money to get to my dealer, Charlie, and I doubt Phil would miss the money, I only needed around fifty dollars after all. I crouched down and slowly wrapped my fingers around the leather, beginning to tug it when a small cough broke me out of my actions. I quickly stood up and span my heel to see Chibs standing there, a disapproving look on his weathered face and two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. I dropped the wallet to the floor as he stepped closer towards me, passing me a mug with the Scottish flag printed against a white background and sighing heavily. I raised it to my lips and took a sip, frowning a little at the bitter taste but relishing in the taste of it all the same. It had been so long since I was able to taste anything properly because of the heroin, and coffee had been one of my favourite things before I’d fallen victim to the addictive drug.

 “I’m nae going tae tell anyone aboot what ye’ve just tried tae dae, but dinnae ye think ye’ve hit rock bottom at this point, lass?” Chibs sighed, swigging from his own cup and leaning against the doorframe which I assumed led to the kitchen. “Yer stealing from yer brother’s friends and ye’ve just broken the lock on me door, just so ye can some skag in ye. By all means dae what the fuck ye like, but what I cannae understand is that I thought ye loved yer brother?”

 “I do love Herman, more than anything else in the world. You wouldn’t get it, Chibs. I just need one more hit then I’ll quit for good. I know Herman would understand that, he was exactly the same when he was taking crystal,” I croaked, hanging my head in shame and picking at the broken skin around my fingernails in attempt to avoid his disappointed expression.

 “If that’s what ye have tae tell yerself tae justify stealing from a lad tha’ has absolutely nothing, then by all means go ahead, but what happens when ye eventually overdose, eh? Ye leave yer brother behind tae clear up all yer debts and bury his little sister? Ye cannae love him tha’ much if yer willing tae hurt him like tha’, love. Now ye can take tha’ money and go, or ye can come back tae me room and sort yerself oot once and fer all. I’ll be waiting in there if ye decide tae stop poisoning yerself and keep digging yer own grave. Night lass,” he shrugged, walking away down the hallway and leaving me standing there, feeling like the worst person in the world.

 I must have stood in the middle of the untidy clubhouse for well over half an hour, debating what to do. If I took the money and left, I’d be able to forget that everything in my life was utter shit and probably destroy my relationship with my older brother once and for all. If I stayed then I could live life to the fullest and finally sort myself out before I ended up killing myself. Before I knew it, I was standing outside of Chibs’ room and gently knocking on the door, waiting several seconds until he opened it and invited me in with a sympathetic smile. I perched at the edge of the bed once I was inside, my hands gripping the mug tightly in a feeble attempt to direct the pain away from my head. Chibs obviously noticed that I was in pain because he disappeared into the bathroom for a minute before returning with two Tylenol tablets in his hand and retrieved a fresh bottle of Gatorade from his mini fridge. I continued to stare at the large Scottish flag on the wall as I washed down the pills with the Gatorade, barely acknowledging that Chibs had sat down on the bed next to me. We stayed in silence for ten minutes, only breaking it when Chibs lit up two cigarettes and offered me one. I flashed him a grateful smile and took a long drag on it, subconsciously thinking that although the nicotine hit was good, some heroin would feel a million times better at that current moment.

 “I’m a little surprised that ye came back if I’m honest with ye, lass. I dinnae mean any offence by tha’, it’s just Kozik and Hap told us just how bad ye got whenever ye tried tae give up skag in the past,” Chibs said suddenly, his comment taking me aback slightly. Was I really so bad that my brother had felt I’d do something drastic to get a fix? Then again, I had just broken the lock on Chibs’ door and tried to rob his friend so he wasn’t wrong.

 “Have you ever done it?” Chibs shook his head, his eyes trained on me as I turned to face him and take a long swig of coffee to warm myself up. “Take the best orgasm you've ever had in your life, right? Multiply it by a thousand and it still comes nowhere close to how heroin makes you feel. Just one hit and all your worries disappear. You know nothing, not even your own name, all you know in that moment is pure ecstasy. Why the hell would I ever want to stay sober when I can feel like that for twenty bucks a hit?”

 “What aboot yer brother though? Surely ye realise just how much yer hurting him by doing this shit? And Hap, he’s just as cut up as Kozik is from seeing the state ye were in earlier. I ken I’ve only known ye less than twelve hours so I have no right tae guilt trip ye like this, but if ye really loved Kozik then ye’d sort yerself oot,” Chibs breathed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and hugging me gently when he saw the tears beginning to form in my eyes. “Ah, lass, I didnae mean tae upset ye. I’m just trying tae tell ye that ye can dae better than waste yer life and yer money on this shite.”

 “I know I can,” I sniffled, swiping my tears away furiously from where they had began to run down my cheeks and peered up at the Scot. “I was going to be a doctor, you know? I was at medical school, training for my degree, when Mom got killed. Herman couldn’t cope with it all, started drinking more than usual and started smoking crystal. I couldn’t help but think, when I saw him high, that it must be nice to have something to make you forget, so I tried it. Then he got clean. I tried, I really did, but I loved how it made me feel. Eventually it didn’t give me the rush it used to so I went chasing after something better, that’s how I ended up taking junk for the first time. It was amazing, all my worries just faded away as soon as the needle pierced my skin and I didn’t want that to stop. I still don’t if I’m honest.”

 “I understand it makes ye feel grand, hen, but ye dinnae see how it’s slowly killing ye. I’ve seen men twice the size of ye overdose on tha’ shite, so imagine what it could dae tae a wee thing like ye if ye take too much of it. Now is a better time than any tae sort yerself oot before ye end up killing yerself. Why dinnae ye sleep on it, and then we’ll talk aboot it more later when we’re both feelin’ a little better, because I’m fuckin’ knackered if I’m honest with ye, hen,” he yawned, stretching his arms out and chuckling a little when he saw me yawning into my coffee.

 “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” I laughed, frowning slightly when I realised that I didn’t have any clothes or toiletries with me. “I don’t suppose you have a spare toothbrush and a shirt or something I could wear? I wasn’t exactly in the best state to pack a bag earlier on, and I highly doubt Herman or Happy thought to bring any of my stuff with them. Their hearts are in the right place but they’re not pulling a full wagon if you know what I mean.”

 “Aye, I ken exactly what ye mean, love,” he chuckled, pushing himself off the bed and moving towards the dresser where he pulled out a large, bright green shirt from the top drawer. I held it out in front of me when he passed it to me, wondering who on earth the Celtics were. “My home football team back in Scotland, best team if the world if ye ask me. There’s a spare toothbrush in the cup in the bathroom, just dinnae use the green one ‘cause tha’s mine.”

 I nodded before heading into the bathroom with the t-shirt draped over my arm, closing the door behind me once I stepped inside and scanned the en-suite to see a dark blue toothbrush where Chibs said it would be. After preparing myself for bed, I exited the room to find Chibs already fast asleep on top of the duvet with his shoes off and his jeans unbuttoned. A small chuckle escaped my lips as I climbed into the bed next to him, burying myself under the sheets and praying for sleep to take over soon so I wouldn’t have to keep on enduring the withdrawal symptoms. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of coming off heroin was insomnia, causing me to lie in the room and listen to Chibs’ soft snores as I proceeded to lose myself in my thoughts. I must have lay there for an hour, familiarising myself with Chibs’ snoring so I would know if he woke up before I hauled myself out of bed and threw my clothes back on, flashing a small smile at the sleeping Scot before tiptoeing out of the room and closing the door behind me. I felt like I was on autopilot as I took Phil’s wallet off the floor, along with a burner phone, and left the clubhouse where I rang Charlie to come pick me up from down the street.

 Charlie arrived after twenty minutes or so, laughing to himself when I climbed inside his old beat-up Cadillac and relaxed into the leather seat, thankful that I hadn’t been caught by my brother or one of his friends. He handed me his belt and a needle that had already been prepped, continuing to drive down the main street of Charming as I wrapped the belt around my arm and waited for a vein to appear in the torch light of Charlie’s mobile. Relief filled me when I saw a faint blue line appear under my pale skin, discarding the cap on the end of the needle before inserting it into my skin and pressing down on the pusher, flooding my vein with the sweet, sweet drug. Once again, the euphoric feeling washed over me like a wave and I slumped down in my seat, allowing my eyes to flutter shut and a moan to escape my lips as I dropped the needle to the floor of the car. Little did I know, back at the clubhouse, my brother was screaming at Chibs for being so dumb as to believe the whole ‘wanting to change’ act I had pulled on him and Happy was calling up all the dealers he knew in Oakland to see if they’d heard from me. But all I cared about in that moment was the heroin swimming through my system, somehow managing to make me feel somewhat human again. Herman would find me again in a few days, he always did, and then I’d be in for a royal telling off but I didn’t care, I was happy and that was all that mattered to me.

[yankeecountess]

Broken down car

Sybil shivered as she glanced out her driver’s window, the raindrops pelting the glass at a rapid pace.  The clouds overhead made the night sky seem even darker, but she confessed she preferred it to the sudden blasts of lightning that would illuminate the heavens, casting eerie shadows on the surroundings around her.  Suddenly every ghost story that she and her sisters had whispered to each other during their childhoods, came rushing back, and Sybil found herself sinking further into the depths of her jacket, as if that would protect her from some axe-wielding psychopath.

She looked down at her phone and groaned; “NO SIGNAL”.  Of course there wasn’t.  Yes, it seemed she had apparently driven herself onto the set of some horror movie.  Oh please, let her be the “last girl standing”, although with her luck, she was most likely “victim #1″.

A sharp tap on the glass of her window caused her to both jump and yelp in surprise.  The doors were locked, weren’t they!?  She looked up at the drenched figure who was standing just outside her car door and was making a motion for her to lower her window.  Sybil swallowed, hesitated for a brief moment, then did just that.

“Hello!” a man’s voice greeted from the depths of his own hooded jacket.  She couldn’t see his face, but he sounded friendly.  Although that could also be said about Norman Bates.

“I noticed your emergency lights,” the voice continued.  “Is it your car?  Do you need some help?”

Sybil swallowed and wondered briefly if she should tell the hooded stranger that she had already called someone and they were on their way to fetch her.  But that was a lie, and the stranger might know that it was impossible to get a signal out here anyway.  And quite frankly, she didn’t want to be left out here longer than necessary. 

“I think it’s just out of petrol...” Sybil finally answered.  “I thought I had enough to make it to my destination, but I suppose...” her voice trailed off due to embarrassment.  The irony was she had passed not one, but two petrol stations at least 20 kilometers back.  Oh God, maybe she deserved to be victim #1?

The stranger simply nodded his head without commenting on her situation.  Instead, he announced that he would be “right back”, before turning and walking away from her car.  Where was he going?  What was he--OH!

Sybil gasped as she saw several very bright lights coming around her car...only to realize they belonged to a tow truck!  “Branson Brothers Motorside Services”

The tow truck backed up until it was right in front her car, then the stranger hopped out and went straight to work, hooking her car up to his truck.  He came back to her window, but she had it rolled down before he could tap on the glass.

“Alright, I can wheel you back to our station, get your car filled, do any other checks if you’d like--no charge,” he added and while she couldn’t see his face, Sybil imagined him winking.  “And then you’ll be on your way!”

Sybil felt herself blushing as she nodded her head to his words.  “Thank you,” she murmured.

There was a bit of an awkward pause, and then the stranger mumbled, “Um...sorry, but...you’ll need to ride in the truck with me.  It’s just for legal purposes; we can’t leave people in their vehicles while we tow them--”

“Oh, oh right, of course,” Sybil groaned at herself.  She clutched her jacket close to her body, cursing herself for not wearing one that had a hood, and with a deep breath, quickly scrambled out of the car and rushed to the truck, the raindrops pelting her head like icy pellets, running down the collar of her jacket and no doubt soaking her clothes beneath.

She gasped when she got inside and managed to shut the door behind her.  Oh God, she had only been out in that storm for less than a minute, and she felt soaked through!  Her hair was blasted to her face, her--

The stranger hopped back into the driver’s side and shut his own door, gasping and groaning himself, before pushing back the hood at last and offering Sybil a glimpse of her rescuer.

Oh my...

Sybil had never really gaped at anyone before, but she was gaping now.  He was younger than she thought, late 20′s/early 30′s by the look of him.  He was quite handsome--dark blonde hair that looked brown due to the rain; a strong jawbone, a fine nose (she had never really paid much attention to mens noses before, but his was very nice in profile!) and while he was wearing a bulky jacket, she had a feeling that the bulk wasn’t entirely caused by the fabric, but quite possibly by the muscular body beneath.

“Oh, here...” he turned then to offer her a towel to dry her face with, but his voice faded and he stared back at her, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

Sybil swallowed as she gazed back at the most astonishing pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. 

With somewhat trembling fingers, she accepted his offer of the towel and used it to dab at her face, blushing even more as she imagined how she must look right now.  Not that he seemed to care...because when he looked her, she felt nothing but the deepest warmth coursing through her body.

“Sorry,” the man mumbled, seeming to realize he was staring.  “I’m Tom...” he introduced, holding his hand out to her.

Sybil blushed but smiled back and accepted his hand.  “Sybil,” she replied, more warmth filling her body at the feel of his hand in hers.

“Sybil...” he repeated, and a new shiver raced through her veins at the way her name sounded in his rich, Irish brogue.  “You’re English...” he added after a moment, a comment which actually had her giggling and him blushing.  “Oh God, sorry, that sounded--”

“I am, yes,” she answered, saving him from his embarrassment. 

His own face was blushing, but he was also smiling back at her.  “Holiday?” he asked.

Sybil shook her head.  “Job interview,” she explained. 

The man’s eyebrows rose.  “Out here?”  He groaned and closed his eyes.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

Sybil simply grinned.  “Actually, I had the interview already, in Kilkenny,” she explained.  “I was on my way to a friend’s; we went to uni together and she offered me a place to stay.”

Tom nodded his head, then seemed to realize they were just sitting there, and mumbled another apology, before starting his truck.  “Right, well we’d better get you going so you can meet with your friend.”

Sybil smiled, although she was surprised to realize that she was going to miss this man, whom she barely knew.  As soon as they got back onto the main road, Sybil discovered that her mobile had a signal once again.  She had several missed calls, all from her friend, and she quickly returned them, explaining what had happened and that she would be there soon.

“I’m coming to get you myself,” her friend declared.

“That’s not necessary--”

But her friend had already hung up.  Sybil sighed and glanced once more at the handsome Irishman next to her. 

“So...” he murmured after a pause.  “How do you think it went?  The job interview?”

Sybil blushed but smiled and bashfully glanced down at her hands, folded on her lap.  “I think it went well,” she truthfully answered.  “I was able to answer all their questions, and they seemed impressed by answers, as well as my knowledge and experience.”  Not that for a second she thought she had the job in the bag, but at the same time, she had left feeling fairly confident and proud with herself.

“And...if you don’t mind my asking, what was it an interview for?”

She didn’t mind, actually.  She felt very comfortable with this man.  “Nursing,” she answered. 

He glanced at her quickly.  “You’re a nurse?”

Sybil smiled and nodded.  “For five years now.”

He seemed impressed, but not at all in a patronizing manner.  “My cousin is a nurse,” he added, and then blushed deeply at his words.  “Sorry, just...I’m in awe of anyone who does what she does.  It’s not easy, I imagine...”

“No,” Sybil confirmed.  “It isn’t...but I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life.”

He smiled at that and nodded his head in admiration, causing another delicious shiver to course through her.

They reached the petrol station, and just behind it was a garage: Branson Brothers Motorside Services.  She had passed this place earlier; oh she was glad to have been brought back.  “Are you one of the...?”

“Branson brothers?” he answered with a teasing grin.  “Aye, I am.  Kieran, my older brother, he runs the garage.  But no doubt he’s out on assignment too--nights like this, we tend to get a lot of calls.”

“Of course,” Sybil murmured, blushing.  “Well, I don’t want to keep you--”

“I don’t mind,” he answered, and they both held their breath at his words, a sudden wave of heat seeming to flow between them in that moment.

“Sybil!?”

Sybil’s head snapped back at the sound of her name.  She turned and met the eyes of her friend.  Wait--how had she made it her so quickly?  And how did she know where--?

“Colleen?”

Sybil looked over at Tom.  He knew her?

“What are you doing--?”

“Well, when Sybil rung and told me she was in a tow truck, I knew it had to be yours!” Colleen answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  She turned her attention back to Sybil.  “Lucky for you, my cousin found you and not some axe-wielding psychopath.”

Cousin.

Sybil looked up at Tom and noticed he was putting the pieces together himself.  Her friend from uni was in fact...his cousin?

“You’re not going to charge her, are you?” Colleen asked.

Sybil’s face grew hot at the question.  “No, I insist on paying--”

“It’s alright,” Tom assured, his smile kind and bashful. 

“But I want to,” she insisted, and without realizing it, had taken a very purposeful step towards him.  And then she was blurting, “I’ll stay here with the car while Tom looks at it--”

“And I’ll drop her by your place when I’m done,” he finished.

They were both blushing (furiously) but they also couldn’t help but smile and gaze back at one another.

Colleen glanced back and forth between the two, before sighing and shrugging her shoulders.  “Fine, have it your way...” she glanced over at Tom and muttered, “but not too late, alright?”  They didn’t have a chance to respond, as Colleen drifted away, laughing in her wake.

[nishisoyabean]

sugar (gimme some)

this is dedicated to @taes-taes , for the rare pair fic exchange! i hope you like it! prompt: Sugar Daddy!AU. Person A is trying to get themselves through college, but their family has always been poor and minimum-wage jobs only pay so much. On an errand run for one of their jobs, Person A gets into a car accident with Person B. Instead of making Person A pay for the damages, Person B decides to let them pay off their debt by keeping them company and essentially acting as Person B's significant other. ~ "Iwa-chan, did you take my BB cream?!" Oikawa leans out of the bathroom door, voice echoing through their tiny apartment. "No Shittykawa, it's in your drawer in the back. Where it always is." Hajime calls from the couch, not even looking up from his phone. Frowning, he shoves his hand all the way into the back of the drawer. "Was I right?" "Shut up." - "Sugawara, will you be okay by yourself if I clock out a bit early? The traffic is bad today and I don't want to be late for work." Oikawa prompted as he finished sweeping the mostly empty cafe. "Yeah of course! Just be careful okay? Try to eat something before your next shift. You are thinning out." He flashes a cancer-curing smile, elbowing Oikawa softly in the ribcage. "I'll buy a sandwich at the corner store next to the bar. Happy?" Oikawa sasses, tugging on his worn out peacoat and backpack. He rubs tiredly at his eyes, the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. "And get some sleep, your makeup can't hide everything!" Suga calls to him as he walks into the bitter cold February, fumbling in his bag for his keys. Tossing bag and shedding his peacoat into the passenger seat, he starts up the car. (and the heat!) After switching gears, he starts to back out. Oikawa hears a screech of metal, and is lurched forward, slamming his head hard into the overhead mirror. "Mother fucker!" He yelps, instinctively nursing his throbbing head. After a minute, he opens the car door with his free hand and pulls himself from the piece of junk he calls a car. Another car door slams, and the click of heeled shoes move towards him. Oikawa looks over, a tall figure faced away from him looking at his car. The man clicks his tongue in annoyance, and whirls around to face him. "You should have looked where you were going when you pulled out. Are you okay?" He grumbles, face almost as hard as stone. "Uh- yeah. Sorry, I think I hit my head. I wasn't wearing my seat belt." "I hit your taillight and license plate, so you should probably call your insurance company." The man pulls out his phone, typing quickly with one hand. Oikawa gets a good look at him for the first time, looking him up and down. The taller of the two is dressed in business formal, and from the type of car he drives Oikawa guesses he must be some big CEO. "Wait, what about your car? Did you have any damage?" A slow panic rises in his chest as he snaps back to the real world. He won't have enough to pay for the damages on his car, and the other car. "My hood is scratched, the front bumper has come off, and my light is cracked." He speaks blandly, as is if he was ordering a coffee. "I-I don't have insurance.. How much do you think the repairs will be?" Oikawa gnaws at his lip, hands fidgeting at his sides. "For yours I would say $300 and for mine, probably $700." His breath hitches in his throat. $1000?! That's a whole two month's rent and gas money! Iwa-chan is gonna end me.. The stranger raises an eyebrow at his frozen state, then returns to his car. "Wait, where are you going?" Oikawa anxiously tugs at his hair, watching the man reach into his car, then walk back over. "Here is my card. I'll have both of our cars towed. We can discuss money arrangements over dinner tonight." Oikawa takes the card, reading it over. Ushijima Wakatoshi. "Is seven alright? At the Sky Lounge?" Ushijima says, as if they were going to the local ramen shop around the corner. "The Sky Lounge?! Uh, I don't think I own a suit.." Oikawa squeaks, overwhelmed by the expensive suggestion. Slaving his way through college and to support his family left little money for himself. "It's fine. I'll rent a private table. You should grab your things from your car, since it's being towed." Oikawa whips around to see his car being hooked up to a tow truck, unbeknown to him. "Excuse me! Could you wait a minute, so I can pull my stuff out of my car?" The driver gives him the go ahead, so he pulls his bag and peacoat out of the front seat. "That's all you have?" Ushijima asks, which makes Oikawa go scarlet in the cheeks. "Uh, yeah. Most of my money goes to my college fees, rent, or family." After putting on his jacket, he pulls out his phone to check the time. "Sorry Mr. Wakatoshi, sir! I have to run or I'll be late for work! I'll see you at eight!" He bows, then dashes down the sidewalk out of sight. Ushijima lets out a deep breath, a pink tint flushing his cheeks. He pulls his Blackberry from his pocket, shooting a text to his secretary. Ushijima: Book me a private dinner @ the Sky Lounge. Reservation for two at eight. Tendou: Sir yes sir! He re-pockets his cellphone, and walks over to greet the tow trucker. - "Tooruuuuuuu~! Give me another drinkkkk~!” Kuroo Tetsurou, one of his classmates, slurs from his seat. His glass of whisky reduced to melting ice cubes. Drying some shot glasses fresh from the dishwasher, Oikawa laughs at his friend, who is moping over a fight with roommate. "Nope, you need to go back to your apartment and apologize to Kenma." A low guttural whine comes from Kuroo, his head buried into his arms. The air conditioning blows his bedhead hair softly, almost without notice. "I didn't know there was only one fruit pop left! I wasn't paying attentionnnnn!" He sobs into his arms, catching the looks of a few customers. "Alright, I'm calling Bo. You are bothering the customers." Oikawa flicks Kuroo in the head, an annoyed sigh parting from his lips. "Don't need to do that, I'm already here!" A loud hoot comes from the front door, belonging to the one and only Bokuto Koutarou. "Thank my lucky stars you showed up. I need him off my hands, I have somewhere to be tonight." Oikawa winks, refilling a customer's drink. "Ohohoho? You got a date?" Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows, slinging an arm around their moping friend. "I crashed my car into some wealthy guy's Mercedes Benz, and he wants to talk about the repairs over dinner at some fancy smancy bar. So kinda?" He shrugs, wiping the bar down. The clock ticks slowly, and Oikawa's anxiety rises with each passing minute. "Well good luck! We are gonna go buy some fruit pops for Kenma!" Bokuto waves, dragging Kuroo off. "Byeee Tooru!!” Kuroo calls, hiccuping loudly. - "Iwa-chan, do you like the white button up, or the black one?" Holding up two shirts, Oikawa turns to his best friend, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. "You've asked me this like, twenty times. Just wear the black one with your boots, you know the girly ones." Iwazumi puts his earbud back in his ear, trying to watch the newest Godzilla movie for the third time. Realizing he doesn't have much time, Oikawa sticks with that option. After refreshing his makeup, and adding a bit of glitter, he heads outside. A small crowd is formed at the exit of their apartment complex, which is odd for their part of town. "Momma look! It's a limo!" A little boy on the second floor squeals excitedly, face pressed against the cool glass. Oikawa slips between the crowd, making his way out the front exit. The anxiety starts to get worse. "Oikawa Tooru?" A messy red haired man calls him from over by the limo, which is what Oikawa hoped to avoid. "Uh yeah?" Making his way over to the limo, the audience in the lobby starts chittering louder. "Mr. Wakatoshi sent me to come pick you up, since your car is in the shop." The redhead smiles, his name tag that flashes 'Satori Tendou' brightly at him moves loosely as he talks. He opens the door, ushering Oikawa in. Sliding to the far corner, he is met with an empty car, the back being longer and wider than his own bathroom. "The ride is about 10 minutes. Relax and have a drink, if you like!" Tendou smiles again through the open privacy window, then turns to bicker with the chauffeur. "Shut up Tendou, you are gonna scare him. I'm Tsutomu Goshiki, but you can just call me Goshiki." A man younger than Tendou introduces himself, pushing said man out of the privacy windows view. "Stupid bowl cut.." The window shuts, but Oikawa can still hear them bicker. The ride is short, and a bit of a blur. The anxiety starts to gnaw at his insides, making him shift uncomfortably. The car stops, and the door he came in quickly opens. A large, familiar hand sticks it's way in to help him out. Taking it, he is pulled onto the concrete. "I'm glad you made it." Ushijima smiles at him, bringing the hand he is holding to his lips. "Y-Yeah, me too?" Oikawa blushes, his chocolate eyes locked with Ushijima's olive eyes. Lowering Oikawa's hand, but not letting go, Ushijima guides him to their private table at the lounge. After they get their drinks ordered, they get straight to business. “So… I know I don’t have any money to pay you back with-” “You don’t need to worry about that. I actually brought you here to propose an offer.” Ushijima cuts him off, leaving him a bit speechless. “After explaining your financial problems to me, I realized that you might be the one I’m looking for. I I need someone to be my significant other for the public, so they can get off my back. I’ll pay you weekly, just name your price.” Oikawa looks up from his drink, worry written across his face. Would he be safe? Would his family be safe? Is the money worth it? Could he do this? His answer? “I’ll do it.” - They eventually settled on 500 a week, (though Ushijima tried to start with a minimum of 1000) and their meetings were all public for the time being. Business dinners, promotion speeches for the tech company he worked for, the list went on. When he and Ushijima discussed their deal, he said their deal for the public eye. So why was he on the elder’s comfy but expensive couch, a small corgi sound asleep in his lap? Oikawa asked himself the same thing often, but would usually get distracted from answering the question by work or thinking about Ushijima. Over a small matter of a few months, the CEO had him wound tightly around his finger. Iwa-chan scolded him at first for taking the job, but as his mood changed and things got better, Iwazumi came to realize things even before he did. “Cut the crap Oinkawa and just ask him to be your boyfriend. We both know this isn’t pretend anymore.” He didn’t want to admit it, but he did have a teeny crush on the other. The tink of two mugs on the nearby table pulled Oikawa out of his thoughts. Ushijima smiled at the small pup passed out in his lap, taking a very close seat next to him. “I made the tea you like, the ginger one.” He says softly, careful not to wake the dog. After Iwazumi made his comment, Oikawa started to notice small gestures that weren’t just friendly. Glancing up the Ushijima, he chuckles to himself when noticing a small drop of toothpaste on the corner of his lip. He had come to learn that even a stoic man as himself, the man had his (adorable) flaws. This included being a bit ditzy. “Hold still..” Oikawa reaches out, hand curling delicately around the base of his jaw. His thumb brushes against the bridge between his lip and his nose. He doesn’t even notice Ushijima leaning forward until he can feel the warm breathe on his cheek. Glancing up to his eyes, and back down to his lips, Ushijima leans a bit more forward, connecting their lips. Hooking an arm behind his neck, they kiss for what seems like awhile, but probably isn’t. Oikawa would have loved to make up for lost time, but Sammy had other ideas. The now wide awake corgi springs from his lap, and in between their lips. “Sammy! Gross!” Oikawa squeals loudly, worming his way backwards, and falling off the couch. Ushijima scrambles to help him up, but ends up finding a way to sneak another kiss before the dog intrudes again. Oikawa just laughs, thinking he could get use to this.

[fandom-in-reverse]

Young Heroes | Doc Ock/Avengers AU

CHAPTER THREE Tony walked into the lab with a tablet in his hand. He scrolled through some blueprints of things he wanted to spruce things up. He stopped in front of one of the computer's, swiping on his tablet for a few more seconds before he turned to the computer screen. Tony tapped the computer, turning and changing through blueprints, changing minor details of some. He glanced around the room, found a chair, and pulled it in front of the computer. He went from one electronic to the other, getting lost in thought. Tony has now been working at S.H.I.E.L.D for a couple years now, and those years have flown. Everything was a blur, yet he remembered everything that happened. It was weird feeling; wasn't everything weird? Everything that has happened and everything will happen in the future was strange. Tony knew nothing was going to get easier, but a little bit of pressure couldn't hurt anything, right? Hell, Tony thought, they have a genius on deck -who wouldn't want that? That should take a bit of the weight off S.H.I.E.L.D's shoulders for when it comes to technology. They have are getting one-up's on everything, and, after a while, all their equipment should be the most advanced until Tony could think of ways to upgrade those. It was a continuous cycle of bettering everything. Pressure turns carbon into diamonds after all. There was a soft knock on the door, and a "May I come in?" Tony scrunched his eyebrows and turned on his heel. No one asked to come in -they just strolled in with no second thoughts. "Jarvis -hand!" Tony stuck out his right hand and one part of his Iron Man suit shot itself onto it. He aimed the palm of his hand at the man standing at the door. The man at the door raised his hands in the air in defense. "What the hell are you doing here?" Tony asked, laying down his tablet as he stood up. "What-" "Unlike your name, you were supposed to have drowned. Answer the damn question." "Stark." Director Fury comes to beside the man. As the man lowered his hands, Tony refused to lower his. Fury crosses his arms behind him. "In case you didn't know, you recently started working here too." "Started working here too? Don't tell me he's working here too." The beam on the robotic hand started to glow brighter as Tony asked. "I'll give you all the details, Stark when we have Captain Rogers here with us in a few hours as well. For right now-" "Right now, he needs to get put in the barracks. Or do we just let anyone join S.H.I.E.L.D at this point?" Tony stopped Fury mid-sentence. "The last time I checked, bad guys were the ones you guys fought against. Now, you just hire them at the spur of the moment." "Dr. Octavius has been through reform and rehab, and has been helping us in his spare time-" "He tried to blow up half of New York!" "I'm right here, ya know?" Otto raised a finger, attracting the attention of the two men. "Oh, no, I see you." Tony waves his hand at him. Otto let out a small sigh as he continued. "I would be lying if I, uh, didn't agree with the both of you, but in all regards, I don't expect for you to... trust me completely yet." He shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his dark sweatshirt. His collection of sweatshirts has grown steadily over the last few years, mainly for the fact that they could, if not fully, conceal the mechanical arms on his back. Fury looked back to Tony. "Now, Stark, if you'd please." His voice grew louder at the last word to emphasize the order. Tony knew what he was talking about, and though he resented the idea of letting the elephant in the room roam free, he commanded Jarvis to connect the arm of the suit back with the rest. He rolled his eyes as soon as Fury turned his back. Otto stood there awkwardly at the door frame before he took a step in. "Just so you know," Tony started, taking his tablet back into his hand and sitting back down in the seat. "There's, like, hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D agents on board." He could feel his grip on his tablet tighten a bit. "You try anything someone will catch it." "Don't worry," Otto nodded. "I promise I won't." He added, raising his hands in defense. Tony didn't trust Octavius, to say the least -after seven years, the man tried to blow up half of New York City for Christ's sake! Tony remembered the day that happened, most if not all of his electronics were on the fritz due to the magnetic field. It took him weeks to get things straightened out. And to make matters even worse -if there was even such a thing as fate- the man was supposed to be dead at the bottom of the bay. Pressure was also a bad thing: too much and it could kill. ========== Grandpa Torbert traveled to the school student parking lot, following the tow truck. The mechanic hooked up the 95' red Chevy car I had, and when asked by my grandparent, checked what was wrong with it and why it wouldn't start. "They took the oil cap off and disconnected the battery. Other than that, the car's perfect, sir." The mechanic commented. "I could hook the battery up; you'll need a new cap, though." "She could've taken care of that herself if she would've checked under the hood!" Grandpa stated, throwing his hands in the air. With a couple snaps of the wires, the mechanic hopped off the back of his truck to get into the driver's seat. He opened the door, then asked Grandpa: "You following me?" "Yeah." Grandpa waved at the mechanic. He got into Grandma's car, a silver 90's Mercedes, to follow the tow truck from the school to the house. The two came back to the house and Grandpa told Grandma and I what we needed. I took it upon myself to search for the requested part online. I had to go to the Chevy site; upon further searching, the part was coming from California. It was my only option. The part would be at the house sometime in two weeks, though I doubted it very greatly. I scratched my head as I looked at the checkout screen. Two weeks... I could walk to school, sure, and honestly, that looked better. I didn't care about the weather then because I would have endured that instead of going on the bus or risking taking Grandma's car. I sauntered down to the living room, carrying my laptop in my arms. I see Grandpa sitting in one armchair, feet up and hands behind his head to the right of entering the living room, and Grandma sitting in another on the other side of him. There was a couch to the left with a television set placed in front of it all. Right now, Law and Order was on. I sat on one end of the couch as the show played on. I exited off the car site and started to go through other websites lazily. "If you want to change the channel, Lily-" Grandma started, but Grandpa stopped her. "They're getting to the good part!" He pointed at the screen and put on a sleepy smile, a sure sign that he was bound to go to sleep. Grandma took the remote from the arm of Grandpa's chair, giving it a nimble toss. I threw my hands over my laptop screen, catching the remote with a little fumble. The two of us share a giggle at this acrobatic exchange. When I'm around my grandparents on days like this, I forget my worries for a while. Everything seems fine like the storm has lifted, if you want to use that metaphor. They don't want to hurt me nor do they want to see me break down just to laugh at me like a sideshow oddity. High school students were liked that -Mean Girls comes to mind. Those girls that liked to torture me (I wouldn't exactly use the word torture; if you were harassed for an extended amount of time, it would certainly feel like it) and one of the things that got a run for their money was seeing the bruises up and down my arms. I learned quickly to wear sweatshirts and long-sleeve shirts, even in the dead of heat. Anything to keep my dignity. I turn the guide on and scroll; I see Downtown Abbey is on. I liked it for the first few episodes, but it was something about it that had detoured me from it. As I scroll down some more, one show -Being Human- caught my attention. I clicked on it considering its description. The main synopsis of the show is this: a vampire, a werewolf, and a ghost are living together, and try to act normal... With respects to the show, this is actually is quite hilarious. I lay the remote on the arm of the couch and position myself on the couch with my legs on the cushions and laptop, well, in my lap. I lay my head on the back cushion, cocking my glasses my the slightest of fractions but paying no mind. I listen to the television as I scrounge the internet for whatever reason. Just scrolling and feeling the keys tap beneath my fingers is relaxing enough for me. After a few minutes, I hear my grandfather start to snore lightly. My grandmother tapped my shoulder gingerly and pointed to him, rolling her eyes in the process. I restrain as much laughter as I can as she goes to the study. The study was used for Grandma and her paintings. She would go there in some of her spare time, and add to the forest landscape she had dreamed of: a line of trees that circle around a lake, with a setting sun overhead. It was her hobby because cooking that is. Several of her paintings hung throughout the house: small canvas paintings of the city, some a bit larger of pictures about the the family -there's one picture hanging beside the bed in her and Grandpa's room of my father as a child.