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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ’s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something...

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you.

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile.

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?”

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan.

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around.

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ.

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad.

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged.

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ.

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said.

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod.

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window.

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said.

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple.

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town.

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

“After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom.

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said.

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom.

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway.

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded.

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said.

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing.

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said.

“You hate me?”

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up.

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said.

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again.

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said.

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood.

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some.

“Is daddy okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

#supernatural #tell me a story bingo #spn #jensen ackles #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #jensen x

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themuseandantarctica · 3 years ago

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* 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔

sentence starters based on jill mccorkle’s short story collection crash diet, from the story “first union blues”. change however necessary.

tw: drugs, cheating, like one nsfw reference

❝ i’m sitting here at work knowing full well that the mr. coffee that my cousin gave me for christmas is going full blast and there’s not a thing i can do about it. ❞

❝ it hurts like hell. ❞

❝ i don’t tell anybody this but i’ve yet to learn the C temp and how to figure it out and so i always have to wait around for the F one. ❞

❝ i barely get a coffee break and i know they aren’t going to let me drive clear across town to check on something that i might or might not have done. ❞

❝ i live by my instincts. ❞

❝ all of us have done things instinctively only to find out we didn’t remember doing it. ❞

❝ i know that any minute now that condo i rent is going to bust into flames. ❞

❝ there weren’t any animals at the fair but those are her favorite words. if she likes something she’ll call it kitty. ❞

❝ we never see him at all , mainly because he lives in california doing odd jobs. ❞

❝ if stretching out in the sun with little to no clothes on , sipping a bud , and riding the waves is what it takes to have the sea in your blood , well then , yeah boy , i’ve got it in mine , too. ❞

❝ the average american cannot sunbathe from may to september. ❞

❝ i tell people that [name] does odd jobs in california , when the truth is that i have no earthly idea what he does. ❞

❝ i think he must’ve dealt in drugs or something underhanded from the looks of the people who would appear at my door at all hours of the night and day when decent people are either at work or at home watching TV. ❞

❝ i never married [name] because i wasn’t about to saddle myself with trash. ❞

❝ catch a wave and you’re sitting on top of the world. ❞

❝ what’re you gonna do come low tide ? ❞

❝ what we had wasn’t a home , so one day i just up and left. ❞

❝ that place has got everything you might want and then some. everything. ❞

❝ i like that word - perspective - it can make something sound a lot more important than it is. ❞

❝ not that i don’t value my life , because i do , but sometimes i wish that i could spread it all out on a piece of paper and take some wite-out to it. ❞

❝ if my daddy wasn’t already dead , i’d want to kill him for not changing our name legal to something else. ❞

❝ it looks bad. ❞

❝ ‘ i’ve always paid what i owe , ’ i told him , only to be told that i have no credit. ❞

❝ i probably couldn’t have done that if [name] hadn’t been working there and hadn’t been taken with me. ❞

❝ that’s what he does all day long , that and take pills and sell pills and do sex stuff. ❞

❝ why did you take a check that wasn’t endorsed ? ❞

❝ you’re not stupid , [name]. ❞

❝ if [name] sat there at the window and saw what’s going in and out of this place , who’s bouncing and who’s scrimping , then he’d be likely to mess up occasionally , too. ❞

❝ and i’m certainly not stupid. stupid would be if i told all i know about [name]. ❞

❝ [surname] - that’s [name]’s last name and one i’m thinking i could probably live with. ❞

❝ i’m not good with money. that’s my biggest fault. ❞

❝ i’m not a dog. ❞

❝ it isn’t that i’m not into liberation. god knows , you can just look at me and know that i am. ❞

❝ it would be nice to have somebody run my business , somebody who would say , ‘ now , honey , look here. you just thought you threw out your w-2 and here it is right under this stake of christmas cards that you forgot to open. ’ ❞

❝ i’d rather not. ❞

❝ [name] goes with a man who already has a wife , so she can’t really talk much. ❞

❝ yep , TV’s on. i knew he’d be watching TV. i know that man like the back of my hand. he’s sitting up late watching the TV so he doesn’t have to get in the bed with her. ❞

❝ we have some fun times , me and [name] , and we always have , but then i have to get serious. ❞

❝ [name] , you might as well look elsewhere. ❞

❝ i don’t know what you see in [name]. ❞

❝ [name] is smart and that’s how he looks. he looks like somebody that can handle figures and money. ❞

❝ [name] is smarter than [name] was even before he killed off so many brain cells. ❞

❝ i looked up drugs and one thing led to another till pretty soon i was reading on brain cells and come to find out that once they’re dead , they’re dead. ❞

❝ you are making a big mistake if you get hooked up with him. ❞

❝ what you like about [name] is how he isn’t like [name]. now tell the truth. ❞

❝ [name] always says that , ‘ now tell the truth , ’ but she only wants your truth ; she turns a deaf ear if you discuss her truth. ❞

❝ that’s not the reason. ❞

❝ [name] is a good businessman. ❞

❝ [name] is neat as a pin. ❞

❝ [name] , as worthless as he is , is good-looking and [name] is not. ❞

❝ beauty is only skin deep and [name] goes through and through. ❞

❝ how ? name one way. ❞

❝ that’s his job. ❞

❝ what does he think about the way you spend money ? what does he think about the way you order just about everything that yield house has to offer ? ❞

❝ it’s her. she makes him do all these social things with people he can’t stand. he does it to keep her off his back just a little bit. ❞

❝ he lied. ❞

❝ he didn’t want me to be hurt by it. he’s protective of my feelings. ❞

❝ i hope you had a nice weekend , [name]. ❞

❝ think of the ways people could trick us out of money. ❞

❝ now i feel like i can’t get this car to go fast enough. ❞

❝ where have you been ? ❞

❝ i didn’t know you were coming. ❞

❝ come on in. i’m afraid i left the mr. coffee on. ❞

❝ god , just the thought of that bed breaking down and not even fazing that man makes my heart skip a beat or two. ❞

❝ thank god , there wasn’t a fire. ❞

❝ he’s gone back to his wife. ❞

❝ don’t you say ‘ i told you so ’ one time since i’m going ahead and saying it for you. ❞

❝ i didn’t know he had left her. ❞

❝ he left her that first night we stayed in apex and he told me that he loved me like he had never loved anybody. ❞

❝ he still lived there , with her , but it was me he loved. ❞

❝ he said if he could live his life over that he would be with me. ❞

❝ it’s right out there in my car if you want to see it. ❞

❝ what would you have done if i hadn’t come to lunch ? ❞

❝ i know you like a book , [name]. ❞

❝ i know tuesday is my wash night but i was wondering if i could come over tonight instead. ❞

❝ i don’t even care that i’m going to break that pattern starting tonight. ❞

❝ let’s get some wine and some cheese , not dairy counter but deli cheese. and let’s go in ivey’s and buy you some cologne and a blouse that’s in style. ❞

❝ i can’t buy a new blouse. i don’t get paid until the end of the month. ❞

❝ if it weren’t for you, [name] probably wouldn’t be speaking at all. ❞

❝ i’ve taken ill. i could barely get myself to the bathroom. ❞

❝ didn’t you take ill last week ? ❞

❝ i’d rather be told a lie than nothing at all. ❞

❝ you might have hit the nail on the head , [name]. ❞

❝ i don’t need anything. ❞

❝ i don’t believe in just going out and spending money. ❞

❝ i really can’t talk. i’m working. you should be working. ❞

❝ i know that’s probably a lie but right now i like to believe it. right now i can believe in that lie and keep it all in perspective. ❞

❝ will i be pretty ? will i be rich ? ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #sentence meme #sentence starters #prompts #rp prompts #writing prompts

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fanficshiddles · 4 years ago

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Caught in his web, Chapter 48

Chloe’s uneasiness after Loki taking her up the ass was soon gone by morning as Loki showered her in soft kisses and praise.

‘I love you so much, my darling Chloe. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?’ He purred, hugging her close and kissing her gently on the lips.

‘I love you too.’ She smiled against him.

He was very affectionate that morning. Whenever she tried to get out of bed, he would playfully pull her back down, tickling her and nibbling on her neck while growling. She loved that side of him, playful and sweet.

Eventually Loki allowed her to get up so she could go check on Bear. When she came back, Loki was just getting off the phone.

‘Who was that?’ She asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘It was Ben. Just asking what time our meeting is this afternoon.’ Loki groaned and stretched up, then rolled over onto his side and hooked an arm around her.

‘Ben’s nice. I like him and David.’ Chloe smiled and lay down, on Loki’s side.

‘Glad to hear you like my friends.’ He chuckled.

‘When use aren’t speaking about business, that is.’ She corrected.

Chloe’s phone pinged. Loki reached over and grabbed it off the bedside table and handed it to Chloe.

‘Thanks.’

‘Amanda?’ Loki asked.

‘Yep. Asking if I want to go shopping later and to grab dinner… Did you have any plans?’ She looked to Loki.

‘Nope. You go and have fun with your friend. Just don’t stay out too late though and take Ralph with you, have him keep an eye.’ Loki said firmly, sitting up he kissed the top of her head.

‘Why the paranoia? Is there something wrong?’ Chloe frowned.

‘No... I just feel that your father has been awful quiet lately. I just want you to be safe, doll.’ He said softly, smoothing his hand down her back.

‘Ok.’ She nodded.

Loki didn’t want to tell her that the main reason being was he just had a bad feeling in general, so didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Especially with Chloe involved.

When Chloe went to get dressed, she went to the bathroom first. A certain part of her was a bit on the tender side… But she tried not to think about that. Loki did make her cum while fucking her up the ass, that was all she would think about. And she knew it would likely get a bit easier and more pleasurable for her the more it happened.

Or she hoped so, anyway.

When Chloe went to meet Amanda, Loki headed into his office with Ethan and Samuel. David was already there and so was Ben.

‘Are we allowed to speak business today?’ Ben teased, grinning.

‘Shut up.’ Loki hissed, sitting down behind his desk. ‘What have we got today then?’

‘We have an issue with one of the new girls in the Camden shop. Keeps trying to escape, tried to kill herself too last night. The owner of that shop doesn’t want to keep her because she’s more hassle than she’s worth.’ Ben said.

‘Hmm. Maybe we need to sell her on. Get in touch with our German friends, see if they’re looking to buy right now. I’m sure we can rustle up some more girls to make it worth their while of organising transport to collect. Check around all the shops, check if any of them want rid. Ben, can I leave that up to you to sort? Get some ready for Tuesday.’ Loki asked.

‘Sure thing.’ Ben nodded in agreement.

‘Can we trust them to give us a fair price for the girls? What if we send them over and get pennies worth?’ David said.

‘We can trust them. I know something that could tear them down, they won’t mess us around. We will get more than a fair price. Trust me.’ Loki grinned.

‘Alright, you’re the boss.’

‘Judging by last night, I think Chloe is the boss.’ Ben grinned.

Loki rolled his eyes at them.

‘What is she up to today anyway?’ Ben asked.

‘She’s out shopping with one of her friends. They’re going for dinner too, so I don’t have to rush home.’ Loki sighed.

‘Aww, is your girl not there to cook your dinner.’ Ben pouted, mocking him.

‘You’re walking on thin ice, Barnes.’ Loki growled, pointing at him.

Chloe had fun with Amanda. As usual going to town on Loki’s card, spending wayyy more than she probably should’ve. But after last night, Chloe was of the mind frame that if he wanted to do that kind of stuff with her, then he would take a hit on his bank balance in return. Besides, she knew if he was pissed off with how much she spent that she could just suck his cock to get him to forgive her. Not that he was ever angry with how much she spent, he always encouraged it, actually.

But she and her friends always had fun trying to push that limit more and more at every shopping trip.

They went for dinner at a nice Chinese buffet restaurant.

‘Why is Ralph loitering around outside?’ Amanda asked, slurping up some noodles.

‘I dunno. Loki had him come with me and keep an eye. He goes through weird phases where he wants eyes on me, in-case of my father or fuck knows what. Ralph is nice enough though. I feel for him sometimes though, having to follow me about like a dog. Maybe I should get him some takeaway?’

Amanda shrugged. ‘It’s Loki’s money anyway.’

After finishing, Chloe did get a takeaway box and took it out for Ralph. He was very appreciative. They then headed back to the car.

On the way there, they bumped into a familiar face.

‘Hello, darling.’ Ben smiled, stopping when he saw her.

‘Ben, hi! Not seen you in ages!’ Chloe teased, making him laugh.

Chloe noticed Amanda visibly swoon when she introduced her to Ben.

‘Are you ladies finished shopping for the day?’

‘Yeah, just heading home now.’ Chloe nodded.

‘I can give you a lift home, if you’d like? Since I’m heading to meet with Loki anyway.’ He offered.

‘I thought your meeting with him was earlier?’ Chloe asked.

‘It was, but I had to re-arrange.’ Ben smiled.

‘I have Ralph here to take me home, once we drop Amanda off.’

‘Well, it will save Ralph taking Amanda home then having to drop you off, then doubling back across the city to his own home.’ He turned his attention to Ralph. ‘Would that be easier for you, mate?’

‘It’s up to Chloe. I don’t mind at all, Sir.’ Ralph said politely.

‘Alright then. If you’re sure. It does make sense.’ Chloe smiled, she looked to Amanda. ‘That alright with you?’

‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow at college.’ Amanda gave Chloe a hug before getting into the car with Ralph.

Ben offered Chloe his arm, being gentlemanly. She accepted it and went along with him happily.

Loki was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a whiskey. He was tapping the glass as he checked his watch for what felt like the millionth time.

‘Where is she?’ She muttered to himself.

It was almost nine and he had thought Chloe would’ve been home by now.

He took out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He frowned at his phone. ‘Odd.’

Then he thought maybe she had just gone to the cinema and turned it off… So he tried calling Ralph instead.

‘Hi, boss. What’s up?’ Ralph asked cheerily.

‘Is Chloe in the cinema?’ Loki asked.

‘No… She should be home, why?’ Ralph asked, sounding slightly concerned.

‘What? What time did you drop her off?’ Loki stood up quickly, accidentally knocking his whiskey glass off the arm of the sofa in the process and it spilled over the carpet.

‘I… I didn’t. Last I saw her was around half six, in the car park at the shopping centre. She went with Ben, he said he was going to take her home as he had a meeting with you.’

Loki felt his blood run cold.

‘Get. Here. Now.’

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #caught in his web

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Caught in his web, Chapter 48

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 48 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead. RATING: M

Chloe’s uneasiness after Loki taking her up the ass was soon gone by morning as Loki showered her in soft kisses and praise.

‘I love you so much, my darling Chloe. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?’ He purred, hugging her close and kissing her gently on the lips.

‘I love you too.’ She smiled against him.

Eventually Loki allowed her to get up so she could go check on Bear. When she came back, Loki was just getting off the phone.

‘Who was that?’ She asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘It was Ben. Just asking what time our meeting is this afternoon.’ Loki groaned and stretched up, then rolled over onto his side and hooked an arm around her.

‘Ben’s nice. I like him and David.’ Chloe smiled and lay down, on Loki’s side.

‘Glad to hear you like my friends.’ He chuckled.

‘When use aren’t speaking about business, that is.’ She corrected.

Chloe’s phone pinged. Loki reached over and grabbed it off the bedside table and handed it to Chloe.

‘Thanks.’

‘Amanda?’ Loki asked.

‘Yep. Asking if I want to go shopping later and to grab dinner… Did you have any plans?’ She looked to Loki.

‘Nope. You go and have fun with your friend. Just don’t stay out too late though and take Ralph with you, have him keep an eye.’ Loki said firmly, sitting up he kissed the top of her head.

‘Why the paranoia? Is there something wrong?’ Chloe frowned.

‘No… I just feel that your father has been awful quiet lately. I just want you to be safe, doll.’ He said softly, smoothing his hand down her back.

‘Ok.’ She nodded.

Loki didn’t want to tell her that the main reason being was he just had a bad feeling in general, so didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Especially with Chloe involved.

Or she hoped so, anyway.

When Chloe went to meet Amanda, Loki headed into his office with Ethan and Samuel. David was already there and so was Ben.

‘Are we allowed to speak business today?’ Ben teased, grinning.

‘Shut up.’ Loki hissed, sitting down behind his desk. ‘What have we got today then?’

‘Sure thing.’ Ben nodded in agreement.

‘Can we trust them to give us a fair price for the girls? What if we send them over and get pennies worth?’ David said.

‘We can trust them. I know something that could tear them down, they won’t mess us around. We will get more than a fair price. Trust me.’ Loki grinned.

‘Alright, you’re the boss.’

‘Judging by last night, I think Chloe is the boss.’ Ben grinned.

Loki rolled his eyes at them.

‘What is she up to today anyway?’ Ben asked.

‘She’s out shopping with one of her friends. They’re going for dinner too, so I don’t have to rush home.’ Loki sighed.

‘Aww, is your girl not there to cook your dinner.’ Ben pouted, mocking him.

‘You’re walking on thin ice, Barnes.’ Loki growled, pointing at him.

But she and her friends always had fun trying to push that limit more and more at every shopping trip.

They went for dinner at a nice Chinese buffet restaurant.

‘Why is Ralph loitering around outside?’ Amanda asked, slurping up some noodles.

Amanda shrugged. ‘It’s Loki’s money anyway.’

After finishing, Chloe did get a takeaway box and took it out for Ralph. He was very appreciative. They then headed back to the car.

On the way there, they bumped into a familiar face.

‘Hello, darling.’ Ben smiled, stopping when he saw her.

‘Ben, hi! Not seen you in ages!’ Chloe teased, making him laugh.

Chloe noticed Amanda visibly swoon when she introduced her to Ben.

‘Are you ladies finished shopping for the day?’

‘Yeah, just heading home now.’ Chloe nodded.

‘I can give you a lift home, if you’d like? Since I’m heading to meet with Loki anyway.’ He offered.

‘I thought your meeting with him was earlier?’ Chloe asked.

‘It was, but I had to re-arrange.’ Ben smiled.

‘I have Ralph here to take me home, once we drop Amanda off.’

‘It’s up to Chloe. I don’t mind at all, Sir.’ Ralph said politely.

‘Alright then. If you’re sure. It does make sense.’ Chloe smiled, she looked to Amanda. ‘That alright with you?’

‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow at college.’ Amanda gave Chloe a hug before getting into the car with Ralph.

Ben offered Chloe his arm, being gentlemanly. She accepted it and went along with him happily.

Loki was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a whiskey. He was tapping the glass as he checked his watch for what felt like the millionth time.

‘Where is she?’ She muttered to himself.

It was almost nine and he had thought Chloe would’ve been home by now.

He took out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He frowned at his phone. ‘Odd.’

Then he thought maybe she had just gone to the cinema and turned it off… So he tried calling Ralph instead.

‘Hi, boss. What’s up?’ Ralph asked cheerily.

‘Is Chloe in the cinema?’ Loki asked.

‘No… She should be home, why?’ Ralph asked, sounding slightly concerned.

‘What? What time did you drop her off?’ Loki stood up quickly, accidentally knocking his whiskey glass off the arm of the sofa in the process and it spilled over the carpet.

‘I… I didn’t. Last I saw her was around half six, in the car park at the shopping centre. She went with Ben, he said he was going to take her home as he had a meeting with you.’

Loki felt his blood run cold.

‘Get. Here. Now.’

#Loki #Others #Submitted fic #submission #Caught in his Web #chapter 48 #fanfichiddles

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years ago

Note

I was in Saint Denis and was doing the rob 5 town people challenge, when some woman started sassing me. Arthur grabbed her so her back was against his chest and put the gun to her head, saying "I wasnt gonna rob you but now I am." Could you write Arthur/reader where a few months later she ends up falling in with the camp and recognises his voice?

Woo boy, this one was fun and honestly could be the start of a multi-chapter fic! Great prompt! Also, Arthur is hilarious when he comes up with stuff like this.

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You watch as the ferry floats away from the pier. Your hand lowers as it would be impossible for your cousin to see you at this point. Part of you still wishes you could have gotten a ticket for this ferry, but at the same time, you’re glad you couldn’t. For the last few days, you’ve gotten a bad feeling about the boat. You doubted it was nothing, that you were just being silly, so you said nothing to your cousin.

As you turn and look down the street at the town of Blackwater, you begin lightly humming to yourself. It couldn’t be a more beautiful day. You’ll miss your cousin, the two of you are good friends, but she lives in Saint Denis with her parents. You live here alone, but you don’t want to leave. Blackwater is all you’ve ever known. It’s where your parents are buried and where you grew up.

You pass the barber’s shop and you get a sudden sense of dread, like there’s a heavy anticipation settling over the town. You can’t put your finger on as to why. Nothing seems wrong or out of place, plenty of people are milling about the town. It seems like a regular day.

As you walk down the street, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling, you suddenly hear shouts and screams. A police officer on his horse runs past you, heading for the lake. He yells out “Ferry’s being robbed!”

You watch in terror as people begin fleeing, cops swarming the streets and heading for the lake. Gun shots ring out. You begin backing up quickly and slam into someone hard.

“Watch it, buddy,” you say, glaring at the man. Of course it wasn’t his fault, more yours than his really, but you’ve never been known for apologizing. Without warning, the man suddenly grabs you, pins your back to his chest, and he whips out his gun, pointing it to your temple. In the chaos surrounding you, no one stops to rescue you.

“Now you listen here, miss,” he growls in your ear, his voice mixing with your heartbeats. “I wasn’t gonna rob ya, I was here to rob someone else. But now I have ya, hand over whatever ya got.”

“Please, mister, I don’t have anything,” you plead, your hands scratching at his arm wrapped around your shoulders, but seem to have no effect.

“Bullshit. You damn city folk always got somethin’. Now hand it over!”

“Okay, okay!” You reach into your pocket and pull out the fifty dollars you had. You’d intended to use the money to pay down your house for this month. You stuff the bills into his hand.

“There, that weren’t so hard. Now get outta here, and don’t mention me!” He shoves you hard and runs towards the lake, following the footsteps of the officers. You don’t get a good look at his face.

The incident of the double robbery terrifies you so much you stay out of Blackwater for the next few weeks. It’s alright anyways as the town is now swarmed by bounty hunters, officers and even Pinkertons, looking for the criminals. They wouldn’t be so bad, until the Governor declared that the town was going into complete lockdown. This meant that all businesses would be shut down until further notice and all residents must stay inside and even open their homes up to be searched in case anyone was housing fugitives.

This turns out to be devastating for you. Your home sits on the outlying border of Blackwater where you run a very small dairy farm. You’ve always managed to make a decent living as everyone buys milk, but with this lockdown, no one comes. The government has even sent in supplies to the residents, such as milk and eggs, in order to keep everyone alive for the meantime.

Blackwater, however, is not a cheap place to live anymore. Not ever since it stopped being a simple trading post, and it’s getting even more expensive now that the train station is being built. Even though businesses have stopped, bills haven’t. You still have to pay for the loan on your home as it wasn’t paid off when your parents died, and with no incoming money, your savings quickly dry up.

Things go on this way for weeks, and your situation goes from bad to worse. The criminals have not been caught yet and there’s been no word on their whereabouts either, so the Pinkertons and bounty hunters haven’t left yet. Your situation is growing dire. Just last week, someone from the bank stopped by to remind you to pay this month’s amount towards your property. You tried to explain that with the lockdown, you no longer have the money. He claimed it wasn’t the bank’s problem and they expected their payment by the end of the month otherwise you risk losing the property.

You would start selling milk again. Hell, these past few weeks all your supplies have basically been thrown away (the cows haven’t stopped milking after all). However, with the government giving out free milk and supplies, no one will pay for yours. You even try to sell the fact that the milk’s as fresh as it can be, but then the Pinkertons catch wind of your business and threaten to imprison you for it as all businesses are still shut down. They don’t care either when you explain your predicament.

The month ends and on the first day, officials from the bank come and seize your property. It doesn’t matter how much you scream and fight, claiming it’s the city government’s fault as you could have paid if you’d been allowed to run your business. They don’t care and by the end of the day, you’re left sobbing in the dirt with the few possessions you could carry. How will you be able to survive?

It’s clear that you can’t stay in Blackwater. There’s nothing left for you here except bad memories. It’s impossible to say how long this situation will last either. Instead of living on the streets, you decide to move to Valentine. Perhaps you can get a job as a waitress. You still have enough money that, even though you couldn’t pay for your house, maybe you can buy a cheaper property up there. Maybe even some cows and you can start over again. Besides, Valentine is a livestock town. You know livestock.

However, when you get to Valentine, things don’t go as you planned. Sure, you got a job as a waitress in the saloon, but it doesn’t pay very much and there are no properties for sale near the town. The few that are for sale are far away and too much for you to afford. You ask the manager of the saloon (who’s also the bartender) if you can live in one of the rooms upstairs until your situation is sorted out.

“Unless you’re working in one of those rooms, I can’t afford to let you live there.”

You know what he means by working in those rooms and you won’t stoop that low. You still have standards, after all. In the end, you have no choice but to sleep outside and work as much as possible during the days. You think things have hit an all time low.

One afternoon, you’re waiting tables. A particularly rowdy group of ranch hands comes in and gets a table. They immediately flag you down and you sigh. These types of men are the worst, but if you play your cards right, they can pay some of the highest tips. Especially if you’re quick on refilling their drinks.

Usually ranch hands don’t stay too long, but this group seems to want to stay. It’s been well over an hour and all of them have had their fair share of drinks, making them even louder and rowdier. As you approach them with more shots of whiskey, one man puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“Hey, how much for a night, missy?” he asks.

“I don’t do that,” you say flatly.

“Oh come on. Bet you’d do it for someone like me,” he says.

“Why would I?” you glare down at him.

“Because I’m the sheriff’s son, miss. I can get you anythin’ you want.”

“Become the governor’s son and maybe I’ll think about it. And maybe think about becoming more than some ranch hand,” you snap and try pulling away. He just clenches your hips harder.

“You hear how this girl talks to fellers like us?” he laughs to his friends. They guffaw and point at you. “Seriously, girl, I’ve made all the other women in this saloon swoon before.”

“Well then go back to swooning them.”

“Nah, been there, done that. I want you.”

“Let go of me! I ain’t that kinda girl! Now take your drinks and get lost. All of you!”

“Hey, you can’t talk to us like that!” one man says. “We’re patrons!”

“I can, and I’m telling you all to get out!” You march over to the bar and tell the bartender your problem. He recognizes the man who was hitting on you and says that the sheriff’s cleaning his slate for some gambling problems, so he has to let his son stay. However, he doesn’t want you getting harassed, so he has one of the other girls cover for you.

When your shift is done, you head outside to have a smoke and dreading the fact that it looks like it might rain tonight. You’re still sleeping practically on the streets, so it’ll be a bad night. As you stand and smoke, lost in thought, you don’t hear the footsteps behind you.

Someone grabs you hard from behind, pinning you to their body. The sheriff’s son’s voice hisses in your ear, wreaking of alcohol.

“Hey there, missy. Just the two of us now. How about we skip talk of pay and just get down to business, hmm?”

His hand suddenly gropes you and you kick him in the shin. He yelps in pain and you push away from him. “I told you I ain’t that kind of girl! Now get lost before I tell your daddy what you do to women.”

His face scrunches in rage and he lunges at you, knocking you onto your back. You try fighting him but he’s much stronger and he’s got the upper hand. His hands pin your arms down as he tries kissing you, so you headbutt him. One hand releases your arm to press on his bleeding nose and you take the opportunity, grabbing his cattleman revolver, pointing it at his gut, and firing.

The bang echoes against the building, and you quickly throw him off of you. He writhes for a few seconds, a gurgling coming out of his mouth. You watch in shock as he draws his last breath. You certainly hadn’t meant to kill him.

The door to the saloon slams open and the bartender steps out. He looks at the body, you standing over it with the gun still in your hand.

“I…. I…” you stammer, not knowing what to say.

“My God, Y/N! You killed him!”

“He attacked me!” you say.

“Sheriff’s gonna lose his mind about this! He’s not one to mess around with the law, but when he hears about his boy… oh, Y/N, this is bad!”

“But he attacked me! I didn’t mean to kill him!”

The bartender comes over and smacks the pistol out of your hand. “You best get out of here, Y/N. I weren’t the only one who heard that gunshot. Sheriff or one of his deputies will be here any second and if they find you like this…. You’ll be hung by the end of the week. Go on, get outta here. I’ll come up with something.”

Without hesitating, you run off. He’s right of course, now that you’ve killed a man you can’t stay here. You run as fast as you can, heading south, but it doesn’t take long for you to lose your breath. By the time you hunker down, a painful stitch in your side, you realize how bad things have gotten. As the reality of it all sets in, you begin to sob.

You killed a man. Sure, he’d been attacking you and if he’d lived, he’d surely have done something truly terrible, but the fact remains. A man is dead because of you. Not only that, but the likelihood of the sheriff discovering the truth is a guaranteed problem. His son’s friends surely must have seen him coming after you. They’d know you’re his most likely killer, and they won’t have a problem telling the sheriff. You’re in big trouble.

The weight of this all forces you down to your knees and you sob harder. What can you possibly do? Should you head on to another town? But which one? So far, you haven’t had any luck being able to afford a new home. You just can’t seem to dig yourself out of this hole.

You hear a voice. “Ma’am? Ma’am, you okay?”

You look up and see an elderly man. His clothes are rough, dirty and torn in places. He’s got a bulbous nose and a thick gray beard and a wide belly. His eyes, though dark, have a kind look to them.

“I… I killed him.” The words slip out of your mouth.

“Killed who?” he asks.

“The sheriff’s son. I… I killed him. It was an accident.”

“Oh so you’re the one they’re looking for.” Fear stabs you in the stomach. This quick and you already have a bounty on you. He straightens up and looks down the road at Valentine. “You say it was an accident?”

You nod, getting to your feet and preparing to run. He’s an old man, he won’t be able to catch you easily. “Yeah. Bastard was trying to rape me, so I shot him.”

The man blinks. “Sounds like you’re in a bad way. Heard he was the sheriff’s son. Say, I don’t do this for everyone, but why don’t you come with me? I got a place you can stay until you get things figured out.”

“You aren’t planning on raping me too, are you? No offense, but I’m not in the mood to trust many men right now.”

“Don’t be thick, come on now. I live with a big group. Sure, there’s quite a few men, but I promise ain’t one of ‘em gonna touch ya. Especially when they hear you’ve already killed the man who tried to get ya.”

Instead of feeling suspicious, you can’t help but trust this man. He leads you down the trail towards a large copse of trees. As he walks into them, he turns to you.

“Think you’ll fit right in with us, miss. Everyone I live with has got a record behind ‘em. Hell, some of ‘em have killed more people than I’m even capable of counting, but don’t tell ‘em I said that.”

“So, you run with a gang of outlaws?” you say, feeling nervous again.

“That’s how you might choose to see it, but they’re alright really. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

The old man leads you into a clearing. There you see several wagons and a few tents. Despite the hour, there’s still plenty of people milling about. A man sits at a round table with two women, a guitar in his hand and he’s singing in Spanish. Around one of the fire’s further away is a man in a plaid shirt talking to some other men. Not too far, near a tent, a woman sits next to a small boy, who’s playing in the dirt with a stick.

“Uncle!” a loud voice calls out. It seems to be directed to the man guiding you in. You look to see the owner of the voice. A tall, well groomed man with dark hair marches over to you, followed by a thin, gangling man with gray hair and a thoughtful face. “Uncle, what the hell are you doing? I said no more passengers!”

“Hey, hey, relax Dutch! Just a girl, got in a spot of trouble in town, figured she needed some help.”

“We can’t afford to feed any more mouths, you old goat!”

“What kind of trouble?” says the gray haired man. The two men look at you curiously. You realize they’re waiting for you to say something.

“I…. I killed the sheriff’s son. He was attacking me, so I shot him. It was an accident.”

Another man saunters over. He’s a broad man with curious blue eyes, a leather hat and a blue striped shirt. He smokes a cigarette, the other hand on his gun belt.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks. His voice sounds horribly familiar. You try to pin down where you recognize it from.

“Uncle brought this girl in, says she killed the sheriff’s son,” the gray haired man says.

“That so?” the blue eyed man says. “Well, we got enough trouble, Uncle. Think you better take her back there. Let the sheriff deal with her.”

It suddenly clicks where you know him from. “You! You’re the man who robbed me in Blackwater!”

The man blinks and lowers his brow, clearly confused. “What?”

“You robbed me in Blackwater! The day that ferry got robbed! You’re the reason I lost my house!”

“I didn’t make you lose your house, miss.”

“Bullshit! You pointed a gun at my head and made me hand over everything I had. That money was gonna pay for my house for the next month! I’d still be living there if it weren’t for you!”

Anger courses through you and you want to hit this man. The dark haired man, Dutch you think Uncle called him, looks at the man.

“Is this true, Arthur?”

“Well, sure I robbed a gal down in Blackwater. She was sassin’ me, so I robbed her.”

“I lost everything. Everything because of you!”

“All you had was fifty bucks, hardly anything.”

“That was my month’s payment on my house! Then the goddamn town went into lockdown and I couldn’t make money, so the bank took my house back! Way I see it, you owe me, buddy!”

You’re shaking and quite a few people in the gang have gathered, drawn to your yelling.

“Wait, explain the situation in Blackwater,” the gray haired man asks. You tell him. Dutch and the man trade almost remorseful looks. You stand there, waiting for them to tell you to get lost. Instead, Dutch turns to the man he addressed as Arthur.

“You heard her, son. We owe her. Miss Grimshaw? Please show her a place to stay. What’s your name, girl?”

You’re shocked by this turn of events, but you tell him. A middle aged woman with a stern face comes over. She gestures for you to come over to her and then she puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Come along, dear. We can get you settled. Sounds like you’ve had quite the ordeal.”

She doesn’t ask you for further details nor does she explain anything about her gang. She just shows you to a spot under a canvas where three other girls sleep. They pull out a bedroll and spread it, allowing you to lie down. When you do, you realize how exhausted you are. Despite all the things that have happened, you fall quickly to sleep.

*********************************************

The next few days are a confusing blur. Most of the members are curious, especially when they hear that you lived in Blackwater and had an unfortunate run in with Arthur, who you’re still convinced is the one who sent you on this downward spiral.

Grimshaw explains that this gang cannot carry people who don’t work (which is odd because you haven’t seen Uncle do a thing besides drink and play his banjo), so she sets you to work at a wagon run by a man named Pearson, the camp cook. As you set down to chopping vegetables, Arthur walks over, looking sheepish.

“Um, ma’am, I uh I wanted to apologize. For robbin’ you. Guess… guess I been robbin’ folk so long it just comes natural.”

“I heard Dutch sayin’ you folks only rob from the rich in order to help the poor. I was never a rich woman, Mr. Morgan.”

He lowers his head. “I know. I figured since you was in Blackwater you had money to spare. I’m sorry. I know that if I hadn’t taken your money, you’d probably still have a home. You wouldn’t be in this mess. But I got you this. I know it won’t get you your house back, but maybe it can help somehow.”

He hands you a wad of cash. After counting it, you find it’s well over sixty dollars. You look up at him. “You’re right, it won’t get me my life back, Arthur. But I appreciate the gesture.”

He swallows a bit. “Well, I just wanted to let you know, you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you want. I’m gonna vouch for ya, I at least owe you that. And if there’s anything else you need, let me know.”

You thank him and he walks away. You feel a great weight lift from your shoulders. Your crimes from the other night won’t be erased, but at least you’re not having to be alone to deal with it. You have the possibility of making friends here with this gang out outlaws. After all, you are one yourself it seems. You suddenly wonder where your life might lead now that you’ve started down this path.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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steppedoffaflight · 4 years ago

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 5

Catch up on Chapter 4 here

“No, nothing’s wrong,” You hear him exhale smoke, his breath making noise in the microphone. “We got booked to do a show for one of the big rock stations in L.A..”

You realize now he’s looking for someone to share in his good news. “That’s amazing!”

“Right, it’s awesome. But here’s the thing: they’re not selling any of the tickets to the public. It’s gonna be all contest and giveaway shit. So the team needs a headcount as soon as possible for the guest list so we set aside enough tickets. So if you and Mary and Theo were wanting to see us live, here’s your chance.”

You blink, stunned at the twist the conversation had taken. “Guest list?”

Van’s back in L.A., and you cancel all your plans to see him perform for the first time.

A/N: It’s been four weeks of posting this!! Whether you’ve been following from the beginning or are binge reading it now, thank you for making this story I’ve put so much blood, sweat, and tears into a part of your day ❤️

Word count: ~9.2k

Chapter Five May 2019

The morning after the party is the last time you see Van while he’s in L.A.. For the rest of his trip, his schedule is packed with studio time and meetings in preparation for the album launch.

You finally follow the band on Instagram, although you shy away from following the boy’s personal accounts. Their relationship with social media didn’t seem to be the strongest, and you figured one of Van’s random flings following all of them probably wouldn’t send the best message.

The night of the album release they post a black and white photo of a pile of albums and vinyls to mark the occasion. You text Van the next morning, when it’s officially out, simply: Congrats on The Balance!!

Thaaaanks, Van sends back, Buzzing over it!

Each day you watch their feed fill with new posts promoting live shows. They announce tour dates so often it makes your head spin. Peppered amongst event announcements are videos of Van singing enthusiastically into a microphone, always promoting one of the different singles. You watch them more times than you’d care to admit.

Your conversation thread with him runs dry. You try to send him something here or there, to keep things going, but Van isn’t the best at a consistent reply. You try to convince yourself he’s tired from work, or the time difference is hard to maintain, but your brain can’t help but insist he’s busy with someone else.

That’s why two weeks after release day, when your phone lights up on the kitchen counter with a phone call from Van, you practically faint.

“Hello?” You respond hesitantly. You two have never called each other. You’re convinced he’s dialed you by accident.

“Whatcha doing?” Van asks down the line, his voice breezy.

“Um, cooking dinner,” You say, still confused.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Uh, lasagna…” You peek inside the oven to make sure it’s cooking alright. “It’s in the oven right now.”

“Sounds class.”

“Yeah…” You trail off, unsure why this warranted a phone call. “What are you up to?”

“Having a cig real quick. But I got an email from our team and I wanted to talk to you.”

Instantly, your mind flashes to the worst case scenario. Was this about Instagram? Had you done something wrong? You hadn’t even posted anything!

“Is something wrong?” You press, when Van doesn’t continue.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” You hear him exhale smoke, his breath making noise in the microphone. “We got booked to do a show for one of the big rock stations in L.A..”

You realize now he’s looking for someone to share in his good news. “That’s amazing!”

You blink, stunned at the twist the conversation had taken. “Guest list?”

“Yeah. It’s not a backstage kind of thing, nothin’ like that. But I can put your names down. You can choose balcony or G.A., whatever you like. If you want G.A. I could probably weasel you in a little earlier so you can get a good spot.”

The opportunity already sounds amazing. There’s only one thing on your mind: “When?”

Van chuckles. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Oh God, why?”

“It’s on Friday.”

“What?!” You spin around in the kitchen, making a beeline for the calendar you’ve got hanging up in there. “Van, that’s in five fucking days!”

“I’m sorry! It was kind of in talks, but they really like the album. They wanna do a whole week spinning it and really pushing us. It was all penciled in last minute.”

“Right,” You sigh, your mind going a mile a minute. “Okay, I need to call Mary. Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, sooner the better. If I don’t pick up I’ll call as soon as I’ve got a moment.”

You say your goodbyes, hitting call on Mary’s contact card as soon as the screen clears.

“Hey, Mare?” You start hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“What are you and Theo doing on Friday?”

As soon as Mary starts detailing her plans, the oven timer rings out.

“Okay hold on,” You interrupt her. You put the call on speaker, resting it back on the counter while you fuss with the lasagna. “Whatever you’re doing, I need you to cancel it.”

“What? Why?”

You struggle to lift the heavy glass pan of food out of the heat. “Van’s doing a show and he wants to put us on the guest list.”

“Huh?” Mary’s voice rings tinny through the speakers. “I can’t hear you!”

“Van’s doing-” You huff in frustration, jabbing your finger against the oven keypad to stop the timer. “He’s doing a show and wants to put us on the guest list!”

“Who’s guest list?”

“Van’s!” You yell, your voice echoing through the silent kitchen. “Catfish and the Bottlemen are doing a show and he wants us on the guest list!”

Silence. Then: “You’re joking.”

“No,” You tell her breathlessly.

“Okay, fuck, okay,” Mary panics. “Lemme grab Theo.”

You don’t give your friends enough credit. All Friday plans were dropped in exchange for this show you knew nothing about.

Theo and Mary had pestered you with questions as you three scrambled to devise ways to clear your schedules. Mary was going to bail on her cousin’s baby shower, and Theo was in the process of texting any co-worker that could possibly cover for him. You had no idea what your plan was. Worst case scenario, you’d have to play sick. Through the entire ordeal, they’d asked where the show was, the capacity of the venue, what time, what radio station. You had answers for none of these.

You call Van back with an adrenaline rush, praying he picks up. He does.

“Okay, we’ll take three for G.A.,” You say instead of a greeting. “But I have some fucking questions for you, okay?”

Van laughs. “Okay, yeah. Grab a pen and paper, I’ll read you the email.”

During your workweek you do your research. You listen to the radio station, curious to hear fan’s reactions to their new stuff. Almost every fan that wins tickets is a female that’s jumping for joy. Every commercial break consists of a minute-long ad of Van and Bondy introducing themselves and pushing their album and the chance to win tickets to hear it live. The radio announcers enthusiastically discuss how much they enjoy every song of the band’s that they play. You realize you’d been sorely underestimating their success. People seem genuinely interested in their work, and a lot of the people that call in are long-time fans.

But nothing prepares you for the actual day.

Getting the day off work had seemed like that was going to be your biggest obstacle, but it was surprisingly easy. The real challenge came with all the coordinating required between you, Mary, Theo, Van, and the band’s team.

The event was happening early afternoon, at 2. You’d never even heard of shows happening that early besides all-day festivals. But you supposed it made sense with the way it was going to be broadcasted over the radio this afternoon, and Van had mentioned they also had interviews to do.

That meant you were up as early as a workday, except last night you’d had the worst sleep possible because of your nerves. You slug through your grogginess, attempting to get ready with the help of multiple cups of coffee. Through the entire process you’re glued to your phone, fielding questions from Mary about what time you three should leave, who’s car to take, and who’s driving, along with questions from Van about what time you think you’ll be arriving, the address to the venue, and details about the guest list.

The whole guest list concept was so casual it made you nervous. The only thing Van took down was everyone’s first and last names, and their choice of general admission. He insisted that was enough. He’d arranged to meet you guys at the side door of the venue a half hour before doors opened to get you in early, but other than that he only told you to tell security your name if asked. It felt too easy for something to go wrong.

And to be fair, something did go slightly wrong. Communicating with everyone all morning keeps you from finishing your hair and makeup on time, which delays the three of you from leaving, which means that by the time you get through traffic and pull into the venue, Van has texted that he can’t wait at the side door any longer as it’s time for him to warm up.

No worries, securitys still waiting, He insists when you apologize for running late, When you get here go to the side.

You don’t even understand how you’re supposed to make it around the front of the venue. The entire building is swarmed with fans, most of them sitting on the cement in the sweltering L.A. heat for their best chances at a good spot. There’s a disorganized line crowded around the ticket booth, and at any moment more people are exiting their cars, heading to congest the building further. It hadn’t seemed like this many tickets had been given away when you’d been listening to the station. There’s way more people here than you expected.

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk past the line. Girls sitting on the sidewalk peer up at you, their heads following as you breeze past them. You actually feel bad. They must’ve been out here for hours, considering how far the line goes down the sidewalk. And yet here you are with your friends, scaling the line in a matter of minutes. As much as it feels elite, you’ve got a healthy amount of fear running through your veins. You pray that something doesn’t go wrong, that you don’t get turned away in front of all these people.

The last thing you see as you, Mary, and Theo turn the corner is necks craning to see what you’re up to. You’re relieved to be out of everyone’s sight around the brick building.

The door is exactly as Van had described, but there’s nobody attending to it. Your stomach sinks as you realize you’re probably locked out. But still, you turn the knob, needing the weight of your body to help maneuver the heavy door. You guys struggle to get through.

On the other side is a security guard watching you curiously.

“Van was waiting for us,” You explain. You’re so nervous that the true statement comes out like a question.

The guard eyes you three. Then he gestures to a spot on the floor. “One at a time, let’s get you checked.”

Just like that, the three of you are scanned over quickly by his portable detector, your bags skimmed through before he gestures to one of the doors.

“Stage is through that one.”

Everyone hurriedly thanks him as you head through the giant space, your footsteps echoing against the flooring as you head towards the door. There’s equipment everywhere, cords in tangled piles, and you even spot overflowing boxes of merch. You can hear some hustle and bustle in the distance, coming from one of the nearby rooms.

You’re thrown off when the door leads you right onto side stage. You’re instantly in the way of crew members who are maneuvering a drum set over the hardwood.

“Sorry, sorry,” You say immediately, scrambling to clear their path. Thankfully you spot the stairs to descend the stage nearby, although they’re blocked by a thick, dusty stage curtain you’ve got to press through.

Once you’re down, another security team member nearby makes a gap in the barricade railing for you to get through. And just like that, you three are standing at the barricade, no other fan in sight. With no questions, hassle, or mishaps. You look to Mary and Theo in relief.

“That was so weird,” Mary agrees with your silent communication. Her voice echoes eerily around the space.

“We should grab drinks,” Theo gestures to the bar nestled into one of the walls. There’s only one woman attending it currently, stocking plastic cups.

By the time you’ve been served, the doors have opened and people are starting to flow in. You nestle yourselves in the front corner of barricade, a spot that looks like it’s going to have a great view and also prevent the band from being able to see you.

You listen to the conversations that the fans pressed against barricade are having. Soon the space up front is packed tightly, everyone jostling for the best view. You pick up on a few people’s opinions of The Balance, a few general criticisms, and listen curiously to a couple of girls enthuse about a time they managed to meet Van. According to them, he was very nice. You glance over to catch one of the girls showing the other her picture. There’s Van, arm slung around her, lopsided smile on display. There’s something about knowing him personally and listening to the girls speak as if they know him personally that unsettles you. You decide to try and tune them out.

Without an opening act, the lights going down catch you off guard. One moment there’s a pre-show playlist playing happily over the amps, the crowd cheerfully bopping along, and the next the lights are out and the entire room erupts in screams. And just like that there’s blinding lights shining down, the band taking their positions before Van emerges, electric guitar slung low on his hips, the opening notes of Longshot ringing out.

There was nothing in your radio station research that could have prepared you for what you were witnessing today.

You knew Van loved music. It was as much a part of him as one of his organs. He was constantly talking about it, playing it, writing it, singing it. And he’d mentioned that he loves live shows. And you knew from his fans that Catfish made music that people really loved, really connected with. But you had made a fatal mistake. Your brain had not added these facts up correctly.

Because seeing the boys actually on stage was insane.

The band rips through their setlist relentlessly. You’re barely able to catch a breath before they’ve launched into the next song. And the next. And the next. The fast pace only seems to wind everyone up more, leave everyone eager to bask in every note. Van is magnetic on stage. The crowd goes crazy for him, and he knows it. Simply resting his foot on one of the amps makes the entire crowd swell and swarm in an attempt to get as close to that amp as possible. He improvises lyrics and note changes that keep everything interesting. Every one of the boys performs flawlessly. There’s not one moment where it looks like they’re anything less than over the moon to be entertaining.

As soon as it feels like the show is slipping by too fast, Van will drop the pace. He’ll chant a lyric a few extra times. He’ll strum his guitar a bit longer than what you’d been hearing on the radio. He’ll lean forward, voice low, and make direct eye contact with different people in the crowd. It’s so electrifying that when your desire for him washes over you in a surprisingly intense wave, you’re almost positive that every single person- regardless of sexual orientation- feels the same.

The show feels like it exists outside of time. It lasted hours but also only ten minutes. When Van thanks everyone for coming out it shocks you, but also fills you with extreme exhaustion as if you’d just run a marathon. Before you know it the boys have walked off, the lights are back up, and the air is still crackling with electricity.

The three of you gape at each other.

“They’re phenomenal,” Theo says after a moment of shocked silence. “Do they have their albums at the merch stand? I wanna give them a listen after that!”

“I dunno,” You mumble, numb. “I can probably get Van to grab you some.”

Someone next to you pauses at your mention of Van. You realize how strange that sentence sounded only after it’s out of your mouth. When you don’t say anything else, they keep moving.

“You do that,” Mary nods, eyes wide. “I guess we should… go?”

“Right,” You try to come back to reality, fishing your phone out of your bag. There’s a text from Van.

At the side door having a smoke. Come say hi?

“He wants us to come say hi,” You announce, your head spinning.

“You go say hi,” Mary elbows you playfully, “Meet us at the car.”

You don’t think security would take you heading to the side door through backstage well, so you head out the front door with them in a daze. Once you’re outside again you round the corner, ending up back at the side door, which is now cracked.

You knock softly, a warning before you try to heave it open again. This time there’s another set of hands helping you.

“Are you allowed to smoke inside?” You ask curiously once you’re inside, Van shutting the door behind you.

He shrugs. “Ceilings are high enough.” He nods towards outside. “M’not in any state to take a picture with anyone.”

“Right,” You breathe. Fans are looking for him. Another piece of information your brain doesn’t have the capacity to handle.

Van is soaked from head to toe in sweat. He resembles a wet dog, hair matted and sticking to his skin while he tries to catch his breath. His face is cherry red from his last two hours of exertion, his freckles standing out. He’s undone half of the buttons on his shirt, his chest as splotchy red as his cheeks. Although you two have a healthy distance between your bodies, you pick up on his body odor with every inhale. He’s radiating heat like a furnace.

“Did you like it?” He asks breathlessly.

“I loved it,” You beam. “So did Mary and Theo. You’re, like… incredible on stage. You all are.”

Van shakes his head around an inhale of his cigarette. “We had a really nice crowd, s’all. Makes everything more massive. I wanted to change up the setlist a bit but it couldn’t get done this fast.”

“I loved the setlist,” You assure him. “Everyone else clearly did, too.”

“Aw, quit. But you liked it? Honest?”

“I loved it,” You insist again. “Loved it. It was amazing.”

“Okay, good.” Van nods. “Wanted to make sure. I’m gonna go clean up now. I’ll see you after, if you want.”

“Yeah, when?”

Van flicks his finished cigarette out of the door. “You can head to my place. You remember the gate code?”

“010892,” You recite. Van smiles. “What about your front door?”

“Spare key under the mat.”

He’s already undoing the last buttons of his shirt. You try not to stare.

“I gotta shower real quick and do an interview, it shouldn’t be long. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush an interview,” You urge him, shocked that he would even think of doing that. He laughs you off, parting with a quick goodbye before practically jogging away.

You make your way out of the side door and back into the melting heat, your mind going a mile a minute as you walk back to the car.

Sliding into the air conditioned vehicle feels heavenly. You slump in your seat.

“How’d it go?” Mary asks, turning in her seat to face you. “Did you jump into his arms?”

You laugh. “Fuck off.”

“Ready to go?” Theo asks as he kicks the car into reverse, carefully backing out of his parking spot.

“Yeah, but is there a way you could… Drop me off at Van’s?”

Mary cackles.

You’re starting to get quite accustomed to the route to Van’s. You’re easily able to direct Theo around the twisted, uphill roads through the neighborhood. When you helpfully add that the 8 sticks, Mary only raises her eyebrows in amusement. Soon you’re at his front door, fishing around under the welcome mat laid out on his porch for the key. It’s easy enough to find, and you wave Mary and Theo off as you unlock the front door.

It’s strange being at his house alone. His luggage is strewn about the front room, a couple of the bags open and oozing clothing. There’s a MacBook charger plugged into the outlet by the stairs, but no MacBook in sight.

You take in his mess of things for a moment before locking the door and leaving the borrowed key on the end table, making a mental note to lecture him about finding a new hiding spot.

The air smells stale, a sure sign nobody’s been here for weeks. You take it upon yourself to turn one of the lamps on, noticing a notebook and pen resting on the coffee table. It’s got a leather cover, clearly some sort of journal or agenda. Maybe he writes songs in there? The temptation to snoop is strong, but you know better. You physically force yourself to turn away.

You crack the door to the outdoor lounge, hoping to let some fresh air in. You look around for the thermostat to make sure the air conditioning wouldn’t run itself silly trying to keep up with the L.A. heat breezing in, but you’re not able to spot one on the walls.

Your next stop is the kitchen. Van’s obviously been in here, a few tea mugs in the sink. You peek in the fridge; judging by the smell, it’s seen better days. There’s a rubbery-looking bundle of celery, it’s ends the crisp brown of decaying produce. A head of lettuce has rolled onto its side on the shelf, sharing a sheath of white fuzzy mold with the few soggy tomatoes next to it.

What is intact, however, is a gallon of unsweetened iced tea that’s still sealed, and a lonely beer bottle that’s tipped over in the door compartment. You extract the iced tea from where it’s resting on its side by the moldy tomatoes, and open various cupboard doors looking for a glass.

For lack of anything better to do you head out to the outdoor lounge, perching yourself on one of the chairs and setting your iced tea on one of the expensive-looking frosted glass tables. You get your phone out and flip through your photos and videos from the show, experiencing the magic all over again. You wonder if Van would be against you posting some of these. You’d have to ask him about it.

From your spot outside you hear the gate creak on its hinges, signaling Van’s arrival. You head back inside, your heart suddenly racing in anticipation. It seems silly considering you’d just seen him after the show, but you’re nervous nonetheless.

You’ve just locked up the patio when Van’s knuckles rap against the front door. You rush to unlock it, leaving your mostly-empty iced tea on the mantle.

“Fucking sweltering,” Van says as soon as he comes through the front door. As promised, he’s freshly showered. His hair is still wet except the ends, which are flipping this way and that as they dry. He’s in clean clothes, which you recognize immediately as the worn out gray sweatpants you’d seen him in once or twice, and the gray sweatshirt you’d borrowed the last time you’d seen him. He’s got a backpack slung over one of his shoulders.

“Lock me out of my own house, huh?” He jokes as he closes the door behind himself.

“Yeah,” You murmur, too busy processing the fact he’s in front of you for the first time in five weeks. At the memory of the key under the mat, you come back to your senses. “And you need to move that key,” You tell him sternly. “Under the mat is too easy! Anyone could guess that!”

Van makes a psh noise with his lips. “Nobody gives a fuck about my house.”

“Um, everyone at that show?” You argue.

“Worried they’re gonna come in and raid my drawers?” Van grins. “Steal one of my condoms as a souvenir? Nah, it’s fine.”

You roll your eyes in disagreement, but drop the subject.

Van turns to you then, taking you in.

“Long time no see,” He breathes, his grin reappearing.

“I think you’ve already used that line,” You point out. And without further ado you get up on your toes, going in for a kiss. Van lets his head tip, your lips crashing together effortlessly.

Kissing Van makes the tornado of feelings that have been swirling around for the last month settle. Any doubts about your chemistry, whether or not the party was the last time he’d be this close to you, or whether you’d failed the meet-the-friends test all come to rest now as Van deepens the kiss, getting a hand on the hem of your shirt to tug you closer.

You get a hand on the back of his neck in response, pressing your lips tighter together. Running your fingers through the damp locks of hair sticking to his skin.

The way you’ve missed him washes over you, crashing waves no longer able to be ignored. It’s the strange mix of sadness and relief pressing down on your chest that suddenly has you getting down on your knees.

“Oh fuck,” Van murmurs, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder in one motion. He sets it down safely before leaning back, letting the front door hold most of his weight.

He cooperates eagerly as you get his pants down in one smooth motion. He’s close to hard, but not enough to get started yet.

You stroke the inside of his thighs with your palms in big, sweeping motions. They’re still clammy from his shower. He smells clean, like men’s body wash. You ease your hands under the hem of his sweater and the t-shirt he’s got layered underneath, running your fingers over the bump of his lower stomach. His skin is silky smooth wherever you touch. Even the trail of hair that thickens in a stripe down his belly feels less wiry. You can’t help but run your fingers over the hairs as you bring your hands back down to the matter at hand.

Van lets you keep him waiting without complaint, watching you with hooded eyes.

He’s hard now as you wrap a hand around him, your wrist twisting around him in muscle memory. You only hope that muscle memory applies to the rest of what you’re about to do.

He’s waiting for your next move, the muscles in his thighs clenched tight. His desperation is palpable. You’re taking too long to get your mouth around him, trying to work up the courage.

“I’m rusty,” You blurt out suddenly. “I haven’t, um, done this recently. So if something’s not right…”

You trail off at the way Van’s shaking his head vehemently, his damp hair rustling with the motion.

“I don’t care,” He says, resting his head against the door, chin tipping upwards, his eyes falling shut. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t fucking matter.”

You figure it will matter in a minute, when you’re not up to his expectations, but his reassurance comforts you enough to get started. You carefully maneuver his foreskin under the ridge of his head so you can get your lips around him, pressing the flat of your tongue against his slit as you plan your next move.

Van jolts at the sensation, his hips jerking forward, feeding you more than you were ready for.

He grimaces apologetically when you pull back. “My bad, my bad, love,” He apologizes. “Took me by surprise s’all. Sorry.”

Instead of a response you pet his thigh with the back of your hand, a silent reassurance that he’s forgiven. This time when you start again you press one of your hands to his hip, nudging him back against the door. You use your other hand to guide him into your mouth. When his muscles go tight you quickly shift your hand from his hip to lower stomach, pressing him away from you more firmly.

With the security of your hand holding him away you’re able to get into a rhythm. It’s a bit sloppier than you’d prefer, and the entire time forgotten pointers from your past are flashing through your mind, but Van doesn’t seem to notice. He leans uselessly against the door, occasionally cursing quietly.

Giving head is a precise game to play, but fortunately Van makes things easy. You devote all your focus to him, taking careful note of what tricks make his stomach clench against your palm or leave him groaning. A slightly faster pace gets his thighs trembling. You’re not sure if there’s someone else in London, but considering Van’s desperation she must not give head.

When it’s clear he can’t hold off much longer you shut your eyes tight, willing your throat to relax as much as humanly possible before taking him down deep.

Van’s reaction comes instinctually. In your focus you’ve relaxed the pressure on his stomach, and you feel his hips lift off of the door, chasing the feeling.

“Oh fuck,” He groans, his hands scrambling for something to hold on to. He settles for restlessly combing his fingers through your hair.

Your other hand flies to his stomach, pressing him back forcefully to prevent yourself from being choked. There’s only an inch or two space between him and the door, and you’re more forceful than you’d intended, the door making a heavy thud as his body lands against it. Instantly you get a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve accidentally hurt him.

As you go to pull back and check, you’re stopped by the way Van’s entire body goes stiff.

“Shit, I-”

But before he can finish uttering his warning you feel his orgasm rock through him, his dick throbbing against your tongue as you feel him pulsing heat down the back of your throat.

Thankfully, he’s deep enough so the taste is minimal. Van pulls out as soon as he’s done while you stay put, only slightly sputtering as you swallow everything down.

“Fuck,” Van exhales. You look up at him.

“Holy shit,” He says, dazed and lost for words. He tugs up his pants before melting down the door until he’s on the floor with you.

“Rusty,” He scoffs. “Fuck you. You’re hustling me!”

You’re still cringing from the taste of him. “Can you go grab me my iced tea?” You request, pointing him in the direction of the mantle.

Van obliges.

“Sorry for such a shit warning,” He says when he brings the iced tea back. He offers you his hand, helping you up from the floor. “I was trying to hold off. Wanted to do other things.” He winks. “Been a while since I had that, though. Doesn’t help you’re fucking amazing at it, either. Shit.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his compliment. “You’re fine,” You insist. “I was just worried I hurt you.”

“Nah. Quite the opposite, actually.”

You two make your way to the sectional, plopping down. As soon as your body comes to rest you feel the exhaustion from the concert wash over you, only amplified by your front door activities.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Van’s lying on his stomach, head resting on his arms.

You perk up at the suggestion, bummed when you remember you need to shower. There’s no way you’re letting Van down there when you’ve been sweating like a pig.

“Raincheck,” You sigh, disappointed. “I need to shower. I’m disgusting.”

Van hums in acknowledgement.

A lazy silence blankets you both. You hear Van’s stomach grumble.

“You hungry?” You ask, realizing as you say it that you are, too.

“Yeah,” Van sighs, rolling onto his back. “Haven’t had anything but toast. All the food went bad.”

“You didn’t eat at the venue?”

“Not right before a show. Doesn’t sit right in my stomach on stage.”

“Oh my god,” You groan suddenly. “I forgot I have the best frozen pizza in my freezer.”

“What toppings?”

“Cheese. But then I got fresh pepperonis. The expensive kind.” Your mouth practically waters thinking about it. “It’s one of those giant ones.”

A beat of silence from Van. And then: “We could go to yours?”

“Like, for dinner? That sounds good. And then I can shower.”

“I mean, I can pack a bag and stay over. It’s up to you. Is Mary your roommate?”

“Nope. Just me.” You sigh gratefully as you think of your past living arrangements. “But yeah, stay over if you wanna.”

Van sits up. “I do. Need to give this place a good cleaning.”

“It smells weird,” You admit.

“Always does,” Van says, heaving himself up off of the couch. “From being closed up. Should smell my place in London when I get back from U.S. tours.”

You crinkle your nose, staying put as Van starts picking through his bags.

Soon he’s got his backpack repacked and slung back over one of his shoulders. “Ready?”

It feels like it takes a superhuman amount of effort to get yourself up from the couch, slip your shoes on, and head out the front door with him.

You’re in such a sleepy haze as you direct Van to your house that you almost forget to be anxious that he’ll absolutely hate your place.

But once he pulls up, his range rover out of place behind your beat up car, your anxiety makes itself as present as ever. There’s no driveway, so he’s parked against the sidewalk behind you. You pray nobody scratches his car during the night, even though your neighbors are quite good about that kind of thing.

“Here it is,” You laugh nervously as you two clamor out of the air conditioning and into the humidity.

Your front yard is the only space with grass, enclosed with a moderately new white picket fence. You fuss with the latch before it comes undone, and the gate creaks open for Van to follow you down the path to the front porch. Van holds the screen door while you unlock the door.

“Well,” You say, stepping inside, “This is my place.”

You actually love your house. Considering the L.A. housing market, you’re blessed to even rent a home rather than an apartment, let alone without roommates. Renting this space is only made possible by the fact it was one of your ex-girlfriend’s friends that owned it, and he cut you a great deal on rent.

Van walks around, examining the decor. All of the walls are painted the same color, a light gray that matches the wooden floors nicely. And although furniture is sparse throughout the rest of the house, you’re actually quite proud of the work you’ve done furnishing the front room; There’s a dark blue sectional, although not as plush or big as Van’s, along with a nice coffee table that has storage built into the sides. They sit atop a white and blue striped rug that ties everything together nicely, facing the television sitting proudly on it’s stand.

The dining table shares the space, a cheap white set with metal legs you had managed to snag on sale.

You’ve got two bedrooms, but one of them is unfurnished, instead holding boxes of things from your move you’d never felt like unpacking. A lot of it is things you’d packed to move cross country as a teenager. Too sentimental to throw away, too childish to keep around.

Your actual bedroom is simple, a queen bed and a dresser. A bookshelf that was covered with more clutter than books. You feel yourself holding your breath as Van peeks his head into the different rooms, getting a feel for everything.

“It’s really fucking nice,” He says finally, and you feel yourself exhale. “I love the windows.”

You beam at his mention of the windows. The natural light is one of the things that made you feel like it was love at first sight here. “Me too.”

Van sets his backpack down on the kitchen table.

“Sorry it’s smaller than you’re used to,” You can’t help but say.

Van cracks a lopsided smile. “I’m used to hotel rooms, really. This place is huge compared to those.”

You laugh, your nerves always eased by his humor. “I’ll get the pizza going.”

The evening slides by quietly. You two work side by side in the kitchen, bumping hips and hands while you place pepperonis. You’re quiet during dinner, too focused on scarfing down your food. Afterward, Van offers to wash the dishes while you start on your shower. You try to talk him out of that plan, but he’s insistent on helping. You eventually give in.

As you scrub your makeup off under the hot water, you realize this is the most natural you’ve ever been in front of Van. Even if you’re not always wearing a full face of makeup like did today, you’re always adamant about having some tinted moisturizer or mascara on when you’re with him. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t criticize your appearance; You just hoped he’d keep the shock off of his face when he first sees you.

The hot water invigorates you with a fresh boost of energy, washing off the fatigue that’s been hanging over you since Van’s house.

You head into your bedroom, the only thing covering you the threadbare towel wrapped around you. Van is sitting on your bed, tapping away at his laptop. He doesn’t look up as you make your way to your dresser.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, and you hear the soft noise of his computer closing.

“Getting dressed,” You tell him, procuring a pair of underwear and folded t-shirt from their respective drawers.

“Well, stop,” Van demands. At the slap of his hand against your comforter you turn around, confused. He’s slapped the space next to him, and he motions to it with a nod of his head. “Get over here.”

You feel a laugh bubble up from the nerves stewing in your stomach. “What?”

Even as you question him you still obey, abandoning the underwear and shirt in favor of sitting on the edge of the bed in your towel.

“Lay down,” Van insists, patting the bed again. “I’ve got a favor to return, don’t I?”

You swallow hard. You hadn’t forgotten his proposal, the way it fizzled away with no real resolution. A part of your brain had clung onto his words, nervously hoping he’d follow through. The part of you that didn’t want to get your hopes up had convinced yourself to forget about it and get dressed.

“It doesn’t work that way,” You assure him sternly. “It’s not tit-for-tat.”

Van isn’t phased. His lopsided smile makes another appearance from where he’s already stood up from the bed, stripping away his clothes.

“But that wouldn’t be polite of me.” He tosses his crewneck at you teasingly. It’s damp from being pressed against his post-shower body. You throw it to the floor for him. He does the same with his t-shirt.

Once he’s down to his briefs he meanders around the room, setting the scene. You gaze at him in wide-eyed curiosity as he shuts the bedroom door, turns off the bedside lamp, and motions to the windows.

“Want me to close these?”

The sun was close to slipping under the horizon, the last rays of light weakly shining. And unlike Van’s house, there were neighbors with their own windows close by. “Yeah, close ‘em,” You agree.

Once that’s done Van turns back to you, still sitting shell-shocked on the bed. He motions to your towel, still wrapped tightly around your midsection. “You gonna let go?”

You hadn’t realized how tightly your fingers had been clenching the fold to keep it in place. At his words you relax your hands. The fabric doesn’t unfold all the way, but Van climbs back onto the bed, his fingers slipping against your bare skin as he untucks it.

“Why are you so tense?” He asks as he slips the towel away from your body, off the edge of the bed. He smiles at you, amused and relaxed. “You’re stiff as a board.”

“I’m nervous.” It’s easier to admit now that the lights are off and the windows are closed. There’s still light pressing against the blinds, but the blanket of shadows relaxes you.

“Bad experiences?”

Van is still fussing with the pillows while he talks to you, getting some to fill the gap between the two sleeping spaces. Once he’s satisfied he pushes at you gently, silently asking you to lay down. You do.

You stare at your ceiling for a moment before answering. “Not really bad.” You chew the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “Mediocre, for sure. Lots of pressure.”

Van’s palm presses warm against the soft skin of your stomach. You shiver, tilting your neck so you can look at him where he’s hovering next to you, sitting on his knees. He swipes his thumb back and forth against your skin in a reassuring motion.

“Lucky for you, there’s no pressure,” He shrugs. “We can always do somethin’ else. Just say the word.”

You nod, taking his words in. “Right.”

He lifts his hand from your stomach, running it through his hair. “No bullshit, remember?”

You remember the pinky promise you’d made after your first date. It feels like forever ago. You jokingly lift you arm to salute him. “No bullshit.”

Van chuckles as he salutes you back. The lightheartedness helps you relax.

After the salute Van climbs up onto his hands and knees, making his way down your body. He places a kiss here or there as he goes; one on your shoulder, one near one of your nipples, by your belly button, the top of your thigh. He takes his time getting comfortable between your legs, squirming and adjusting. He presses his fingertips against the inside of your knees and you let him bend your legs, opening them to his preferred angle.

You clench your hands into the fabric of your comforter, laying there open and vulnerable. The build up is excruciating. He spends time running his fingertips over you, feather light. There’s not enough pressure to create friction but you feel the sparks nonetheless. He nuzzles into the crook of your thigh, his hair tickling you wherever it brushes. You’ve got to reach one of your hands down to scratch an itch from it, and since you’re there you lace your fingers into his hair. It grounds you to be able to feel him, to have an idea of his next move.

It still catches you off guard when he presses his lips right against your clit. He pulls away quickly, leaving a light kiss, but the sensation buzzes through you for much longer. Just when it starts to fizzle out he leans in again, more pressure but too quick again, over as soon as it began. You groan in impatience, tugging on his hair.

He takes you seriously after that. In one sweeping motion his breath floats hot over your skin before his mouth is pressed against you, there to stay. His lips part for his tongue to caress you, firm but forgiving, rough and smooth and warm all at once and you cry out from it.

Van is relentless. You can’t catch a full breath, desperately gasping for air as he works enthusiastically and without pause. Even as you squirm against the blankets he’s determined to keep his spot, his face pressing between your legs insistently. It only makes you squirm more, every nerve in your body firing off without being able to catch a break.

You’re so focused on his mouth that the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing against your entrance goes unnoticed at first. It’s only when he gets a rhythm going, a smooth circle that repeats over and over that you jolt. You don’t have the brainpower to give him any verbal affirmation. Your body lifts it’s hips on its own, instinctively attempting to press down onto his fingers, physically begging for more, more, more.

If there’s only one lesson you can take from this experience, it’s how attuned Van is to your body. At your hip’s request he eases his two fingers in, pressing slow and deep, persisting even as you clench tight around him, desperate to feel the contours of his fingers.

He makes some small movements, but they’re not necessary. The sensation of being full and also stimulated by his mouth at the same time is so overpowering that he’s barely got to put any work in anymore. The two distinctly different sensations blend together, running up your spine. It feels like you’re about to be split down the center from how good it feels.

Holding Van’s hair just isn’t enough. No matter how tight you were clenching the roots of his hair you needed more. It felt like if you grabbed your comforter you’d rip it apart at the seams. You grope at your pillows, sinking your fingertips into the soft surface, contorting it as your hands clenched into tense fists.

Van groans against you seconds before you come, like he feels something you don’t. His arms hold your thighs open wide as you seize through it, shouting at first before quieting down to moans. You whimper when it’s done washing over you, the sensitivity setting in as he continues to gingerly lick.

“Okay,” You croak, gently nudging at his scalp. “Ow.”

He’s beaming as he pulls away, satisfaction oozing off of him as he wipes at his mouth.

“Bad experience?” He jokes as he scrambles off of the bed. He’s still in his briefs, a fact that surprises you. He strips them off, clumsy in his eagerness, clamoring back on the bed.

You’re still on cloud nine, too far away to be able to engage with his teasing. You only snort in laughter.

Van’s sitting up on his knees, hand around himself. His dick looks painfully hard.

“Gimme something to blow into.” His voice is laced with urgency.

“C’mere,” You murmur, spreading your legs apart. You use a hand on his side to try and guide him to kneel between your legs, but he falters in confusion. “Between my legs,” You whine, too hazy for explanations.

He knees you as he repositions himself. Unable to read your mind, he starts jerking off again, preparing to come on your thighs.

“Hold on, chill out,” You grumble playfully, batting his hand away from himself.

He huffs in frustration but you ignore him, stretching your arm to the limit in order to grasp the bottle of lotion you’d left on your bedside table the other day after moisturizing after your shower. You squeeze a good dollop into your palm before wrapping your fingers around him. His sigh of relief cuts so raw through his throat you feel your body buzz with an aftershock.

“Come forward a little,” You guide him, jerking him off over your stomach. He thrusts against your hand, his balls hanging heavy between his legs.

You do him the favor of using your other hand to lend them some attention, realizing with regret you had no idea what his preferences were. Thankfully, your standard palming seems to work fine.

You watch his face as he comes, your focus unbroken as he splatters hot and thick all over your stomach. You keep your hand moving until you see the tension ease out of his forehead and around his eyes. Until he’s finally blinking back at you, disoriented.

There’s only the sound of heavy breathing for a moment. It’s jarring compared to all the noise that previously filled the room.

“I gotta go clean myself off,” You excuse yourself quickly, feeling his come dry against your skin. You make your way on wobbly legs to the bathroom, soaking a towel in the sink before scrubbing at your stomach.

You startle when Van taps at the door. At your invitation he peeks his head in, watching your futile attempt to clean his mess. Everywhere the water dried there was a crusty sheen of white.

“Get in the shower with me,” He mumbles, taking it upon himself to start fussing with the knobs, getting the water running without any assistance.

“You just showered,” You point out.

“Gotta rewash my hair.” He sounds completely zapped of energy.

You abandon the wet hand towel on the tile, deciding to worry about it tomorrow. You climb back into the shower you’d just emerged from, shifting around the tight space to share it with Van, who’s already wetting his hair.

It’s strange being in this space with Van. You’ve never been one for casual nakedness, always at least wearing a shirt and underwear around the house. Standing in the fluorescent bathroom lighting, watching Van carefully rinse away any excess lotion from the folds of his foreskin feels too intimate. You focus on yourself instead, keeping your head bent low while you run your loofa over your stomach. It only takes Van a few minutes to massage your shampoo through his hair, and then you two are getting back out. You pass him a towel before wrapping one around yourself.

“Got a toothbrush I can borrow?” He requests, and you pull a spare one from the closet, letting him struggle with the cardboard packaging as you get a head start brushing your own teeth.

He bumps you with his hip, nudging you over so you two can both share the mirror.

Then you’re both back in your bedroom, a sense of deja vu as you get dressed in the shirt and underwear that was already sitting on top of the dresser.

The quiet starts to worry you as you climb into bed. You worry suddenly that this was intended to be some sort of goodbye. That this whole strange ritual of head-giving and spending the night at your place and staying close to each other was Van’s way of giving you guys a last hurrah before letting you know that he realized things weren’t working. Maybe the hypothetical London girl wanted commitment.

Van lights a cigarette as you slip under the sheets with him.

“So…” He starts, before looking over at you. You gulp.

“That was… not mediocre, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

“M’serious!” Van laughs, his cigarette moving dangerously through the air as he gestures with his hands.

“You just want me to stroke your ego,” You scoff, lightly elbowing him.

“Guess I’m the devil for checking in on you, then.” Van shrugs in a faux pout.

“What do you want me to say?” You tip your head back, sighing dramatically. “Oh, Van McCann, that was the best head I’ve ever gotten. I’ve only come twice from head and it’s been from you both times.” You flop down onto your mattress dramatically. “I’m truly so blessed you chose me tonight out of all those girls at the show.”

“Oh, that was a low blow,” Van jokes, hand over his heart in mock pain. “No need to bring up the groupies.”

You giggle, flipping onto your stomach and shifting your weight on your elbows so you can look up at him.

“I guess I’m just asking because I’m confused,” Van says, tapping his ashes into the empty can of Coke he’d left on the bedside table. “Like you said, you’ve only ever made it across the finish line two times. But… you had that girlfriend, didn’t you?”

You tense in habitual defensiveness. Through the course of your relationship with her, and any time coming out after, fielding questions from nosy men who want you to indulge them in their girl-on-girl fantasies is a familiar insult.

“Did I have a girlfriend? Yes,” You play dumb, pressing him for a question with more specifics.

Van sees right through you. He rolls his eyes. “I mean, lads aren’t great at getting it right, y’know. Your setup’s fucking confusing. I’m the first to admit I’m daft about the whole thing and fucking shit to sleep with. But wouldn’t another girl get it?”

At its core, Van’s question has a lewd essence you’ve encountered before. One that wants you to describe how good women are in bed, how they always get it right and every encounter is sensual and just like they’ve seen in porn.

But it’s clear Van has a genuine interest. A real desire to get to know you better and learn about your sexual history. With that in mind, you sigh.

“I mean…” You start, then stop. Try to carefully put your words together. “First of all, every girl has a different… setup. You’ve got to know that much,” You narrow your eyes at him, accusatory.

Van waves his hand in dismissal. “Right. Does my head in.”

“Well it’s the same with guys! I can’t walk up to any guy on the street and know exactly what he’d like. You might know your way around- for the most part- but it’s still different with everyone. Plus,” You feel self-consciousness creep over you at how intently Van’s clinging onto your words, “We were each other’s first girl, ya know, so it was all new and weird. And she wasn’t very interested in that sort of thing. It’s not something we did often. I dunno. It just didn’t work the way you think it does.”

Van stubs his cigarette out. “And how do I think it works?”

“Like porn,” You insist. “That’s how everyone thinks it goes.”

Van shakes his head, amused. “I’m grown enough to know that absolutely nothing goes like porn, okay? You say shit that I get curious about!”

When you don’t respond, he elaborates.

“Like… If you’re telling me you’ve never come from getting head, and I’m planning on doing that, I’d like to know why!” He laughs, throwing up his hands in innocence. “Like I said, I’m shit! I’d like to improve my chances!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re weird!” You tell him. “Asking about exes is weird! I don’t wanna know about yours. It makes for competition.”

You flop onto your back after your declaration, feeling Van’s body shake in silent laughter beside you.

“I lied,” You blurt out, rolling onto your side to click your lamp off as Van starts to settle in. “I do wanna know one thing.”

“Alright.”

“How many have you told about the roughing-up thing?”

“None. And you weren’t supposed to remember that,” He frowns in the darkness at you.

“None? Really?”

“Well… Most of the times something would happen organically, I guess. Things get rough in the moment, y’know. But I never spelled it out.”

You hum. There’s a strand of hair that’s flopped over his eyes, and you carefully tuck it away. “Gotcha,” You say around a yawn.

The room goes quiet.

“G’night,” You tell Van, giving him a pat on his shoulder before turning around, nestling into your sheets.

“Night,” Van says quietly.

Soon, the room glows blue from his phone.

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #van mccann fic #vanfic #catb

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larryfanficwriter98 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Nine

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

"Hey quick question." Louis pressed his phone between his shoulder blades and ear as he helped Freddie into a coat on the chilly Tuesday morning.

"What is it?" Louis asked.

"Can I have Freddie today?" Louis momentarily froze in his everyday routine of pulling Freddie's zipper up when he heard the question.

"What?"

"Can I have Freddie today? I thought I'd take him on a Harry and Freddie date."

"I don't think a Harry and Freddie date classifies as a good reason to skip Nursery." Louis said though he was smiling when Freddie looked up at him excitedly.

"Sure, it does. Besides I'm already outside with a brand new spiderman booster in my backseat."

"I have a booster for him I could have moved."

"We'll need an extra booster anyway and i got a backless booster for your car incase Maddie needs it. She's sort of in the middle but I always make her sit in the backless still whenever I have her in my car. Nice to have extras when we have more than one vehicle. So, can I? I'm already parked outside." Louis laughed as he opened the apartment door and stepped out. He locked it before grabbing Freddie's hand and heading to the elevator.

"I'll have to ask Freddie if he wants to go with you. Who knows maybe he thinks you're too lame."

"Please Papa please!" Freddie begged making him and Harry laugh.

"I'm getting into the elevator see you in a moment." Louis ended the phone call as he stepped on the elevator. Once they reached the main floor they headed outside, and Freddie ran to the familiar Murano where Harry was leaning against it.

"There's my favorite little man!" Harry cheered picking Freddie up and spinning them around making Freddie laugh, "so do you want to spend the day with me Freddie?"

"Yes yes yes! Pease Papa." Freddie begged widening his eyes and pouring his bottom lip.

"Yeah alright." Louis said smiling when Freddie and Harry cheered

"Would you like ride to work?" Harry asked setting Freddie down.

"I would love a ride to work. Maybe even a lunch visit if I can get an hour slot during your busy date." Louis said grinning as Harry turned to Freddie with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think? Think we can slot Papa into our lunch?"

"I think so. We'll get back to him." Louis laughed.

"You heard the boss. I guess we'll be in touch for lunch." Louis took the offered hand as Harry opened the passenger door for him.

"I shall wait eagerly." Louis said looking back as Freddie sat in his new booster. Harry helped adjust the straps correctly before he got in the driver’s seat and started the car. Harry's hand took his intertwining their fingers together before he pulled his hand to his lips and kissed it smiling over at him.

"So, when is my day date?" Louis asked.

"What? Looking at wedding venues or napping on my couch doesn't count as dates?" Louis laughed shaking his head, "I've got dates planned don't you worry about that. I figured it'd be easier to work with when everything settles down some. These next three months are going to be really busy as you well know."

"Waiting for us to get married so I can't run out on the date I see. Smart man." Harry chuckled.

"You know me so well." Louis grinned as he thought about how they had spent Sunday together laying on the couch cushions that were on the floor as a fake mattress. Harry had been exhausted but they had breakfast together and had spent the morning laughing as they talked about whatever came up. They had taken a few hours nap so Harry could get back on a night sleeping routine then they had watched a movie before Louis had to go home to prepare for Freddie's return. Harry had driven him home but didn't come on as he also had to get home and do some paperwork before his day back at work Monday morning. The few minute car ride to the school was filled with Freddie asking Harry all types of questions that Harry avoided answering.

****

Harry held Freddie's hand as they walked through Ikea, Freddie excitedly pointing stuff out for his bedroom. Harry figured the best way to get Freddie excited for a huge change was to let him decorate his bedroom as promised. This was his short week, only working three days this week and short eight hour shifts which made it a perfect time to get everything set up. He had the fee days leading and after Halloween scheduled off as well as the week of his court date as well as the week of Christmas then he had the three weeks in January off. The week before, week of, and week after for the wedding and family vacation which he still had to talk with Maddie's school about. Freddie was excited about his new bedroom and had picked out everything that was in the cart so far.

"What's next?" Freddie asked after picking out a few sheet sets.

"I think we're done at Ikea." Harry said, "next stop is the mattress shop to find you a new mattress."

"Then lunch?"

"Yes, then we will pick up lunch for us and Papa and eat with him then we will take everything to my house, and we will have you pick out your room."

Harry will have to remember to thank his parents for helping him with the cost of his house when he talks with them next. He didn't want a huge house when he moved, but his parents insisted he buy for the future. He had been set on a nice penthouse, but his parents had offered to help pay to get a house built and so he had relented. Harry had always been a good saver, always budgeting like his mother taught him even though they had been well off after her marriage. He still remembered eating peanut butter bread slices though and peanut butter toast. He remembered having to rinse his clothes in a bucket of water and dish soap and hang them on the shower rack to dry. He didn't remember as much as his sister, but he remembered enough for it to make a lasting impression on him. His first job he hardly ever spent his paychecks always saving it for emergencies that never came. At least not back then. He was always glad he did save them when he went off to college though. Now as he swiped his card through the reader and heard the ding of acceptance for his purchase of many things that cost far too much, he knew he was now his stepfather to Freddie. A doctor who comes into their lives and swipes his card on large expenses without batting an eye and hopefully make their lives better. Louis wasn't his mother, he obviously had money and had savings despite what his apartment building said about him. He obviously spent every reasonable pound on Freddie and clearly grew up in a household where he learned to budget like Harry did. Even if his time learning wasn't as needed as Louis' was. He hoped he could make their lives easier and better, he hoped this would last, that he and Louis were able to make it all work and by the time January comes they can say their vows and mean at least some of it. Harry looked over at Freddie as he bounced his bottom on the mattresses with the elderly salesman grinning and encouraging him to jump harder. He hoped one day Freddie and Maddie would seem them as a family with maybe a few more kids in the extremely far future.

***

Harry grinned as he covered Louis' eyes and led him up the stairs to Freddie's new room that was filled with boxes and bags and a mattress against the wall.

"Where are we going Harold?" Louis asked.

"My new room Papa." Freddie said excitedly as he opened the door and spread his arms wide. Harry removed his hands and grinned.

"Oh, wow I especially love the sleeping on the wall idea. Very unique." Louis teased making Freddie fold his arms and pout.

"Papa, look it's a jungle theme. There'll be dinosaurs and wild animals and look I got a new mattress and toys for my new room." Freddie said excitedly showing off five things at once. He got distracted by the toys and started playing giving them false privacy.

"He has a bed you know." Louis said quietly as they stepped out of the room.

"Oh, hush it got him excited for the big change coming to his life so unexpectedly. Besides, I figured you can sell the stuff or give them away to an orphanage. They could always use more things after all. I have to take some of Maddie’s clothes and toys she outgrew to the orphanage sometime soon."

"So how much damage did he do you your wallet?"

"Not as much as Maddie did when we redone her room a few years ago." Harry said as he intertwined their fingers together and led him to the door with MADDISON painted on it diagonally. He opened the door revealing the bedroom making Louis' eyes widen.

"Harold."

"I know. Alright trust me I know." Harry said chuckling, "to be fair I was overcompensating for not being around as much. I over did it I know that and trust me it won't happen again, but this is they're safe space. If they need time away, they go to their rooms and I want them to like being there and I want them to feel safe and secure in their private space. If that means spending a few hundred then so be it." Louis nodded as he closed the bedroom and turned to face Harry.

"And to think I found you on craigslist." Harry laughed as he wrapped an arm around his waist and led him downstairs with him.

"I think we would have found each other eventually. You do work at my daughters’ school after all. Eventually we'd have seen each other."

"Seen sure."

"Oh, trust me if I had seen you in your teacher outfit, I'd have looked for you a second time and gotten your number."

"What makes you so sure you'd have gotten my number?"

"I would have told you a brilliant dad joke and you wouldn't have been able to resist." Louis laughed shaking his head as he turned and pulled Harry in for a quick kiss. Harry grinned before leaning in for another kiss that had more pressure to it as his hands slid up and cupped his face pulling Louis in closer. Louis opened his mouth to the eager tongue and groaned as his back suddenly pressed against the wall.

"We have a toddler right across the hall." Louis spoke softly and only pulled away for enough to talk.

"I'm sure it's bedtime somewhere on this planet." Louis laughed shaking his head, "actually in Australia it is way past bedtime. It's like three in the morning over there."

"Yeah? Well in California it's nine in the morning."

"Damn." Harry said kissed his forehead, "so dinner then?"

"Yeah, I'd say that would be a good idea." Louis said putting his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushing him gently the rest of the way down the stairs, “Time goes by faster if you keep yourself busy."

"Liar. I’m busy at work all the time and time drags on for hours.”

“That’s because you’re thinking about it.”

“God you’re such a teacher. I hated teachers like you mister ‘stop looking at the clock and the time will go by faster’.” Harry mocked before groaning, “If you say one thing about dismissal, I’ll divorce you the second we sign our marriage papers.”

“Uh huh. Sure, you will.”

***

"Harry?” Harry looked over at the open doorway leading into his home office and saw Freddie standing there in his pajamas.

“Yes, my love?” Harry asked.

“Can you read me a story tonight?”

“Can I read you a story? Of course, I can read you a story come on.” Harry grinned as he picked Freddie up and headed upstairs. Freddie led the way to his new room, not set up yet for overnights, and he grabbed a book from his bag then made a beeline dash towards Harry’s room giggling wildly telling Harry he had preplanned it. Harry laughed as he followed Freddie into his bedroom to seem him already snuggled into the middle of the bed under the covers looking far too innocent. “Trickster.” Harry said as he grabbed a spare blanket and laid on the bed beside Freddie staying above the covers. He took the book and let Freddie snuggle into his side as he flipped to the first page after turning everything, but the nightstand lamps off.

“How does a Dinosaur say goodnight when Papa comes in to turn off the light? Does a Dinosaur slam his tail and pout? Does he throw his teddy bear about? Does he stomp his feet on the floor and shout, ‘I want to hear one book more!’? Does a Dinosaur roar?” Harry read aloud making sure to put extra touches in his words to make it fun and make Freddie laugh, “How does a Dinosaur say goodnight when Mama comes in to turn off the light? Does he swing his neck from side to side? Does he up and demand a piggyback ride? Does he mope, does he moan, does he sulk, does he sigh? Does he fall on top of his covers and cry? No, Dinosaurs don’t. They don’t even try. They give a big kiss. They turn out the light. They tuck in their tails, and they whisper, ‘Goodnight.’.” Harry grinned at Louis as he came in and laid behind Freddie kissing his temple as the little boy drifted in and out of sleep, “They give a big hug, then give one kiss more. Goodnight, Goodnight, Little Dinosaur.”

“Goodnight.” Freddie mumbled sleepily as he snuggled into Harry again before falling asleep.

“Sorry I had a mess to clean up in that bathroom. Little man’s bladder emptied itself before we made it on the potty.” Louis whispered.

“It’s fine I didn’t mind. I miss reading bedtime stories. Maddie doesn’t much like them anymore, occasionally she’ll want to be read to, but not often. Besides a sleepover in my bed is always welcomed. I’ve missed toddler cuddles. I’m sure when he knees me in the morning, I’ll regret those words, but for now his knee is a safe twelve inches away.” Louis laughed covering his mouth with his hand to stay silent.

“I can always move us to the guest room.” Harry settled into bed and wrapped an around Freddie and Louis and pretended to fall asleep. Louis chuckled as he pinched his side before he too settled in the large bed cuddling Freddie. Harry turned on the tv for a bit of background noise and turned off the nightstand lamp on his side and within minutes he and Louis was asleep as well.

#Larry Stylinson #larry shippers #larries #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #fake marriage #nonfamous au #larry fake marraige au #doctor harry styles #teacher louis #parents au

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alarawriting · 4 years ago

Text

52 Project #10: The Little Red Hen

Once upon a time, a hen, a cat, a dog, a pig, a goat and a rabbit all lived together in a little house.

Like good housemates, they all worked together to do the chores and pay the bills. In the front yard, Goat had a little pen. Children would come and pay to come into the pen and pet Goat. Sometimes the other animals came out to be petted too, except for the hen, because she was always too busy.

Rabbit had beautiful long fur and brushed it all the time, and then she would spin the fur that came off with the brush into wool, which she would sell. The wool that came from Rabbit’s fur made lovely soft sweaters.

The others had jobs around the house. Hen kept a garden where she grew food for herself, Pig, Goat and Rabbit. Sometimes Dog ate the food too. Once or twice even Cat did, because Hen’s cooking was very good, but most of the time Cat prowled around for mice, or took naps.

Dog’s job was to bark a lot. Dog barked to warn Goat that children were coming for the petting zoo if Goat was inside the house. Dog barked to warn other dogs to go away. Dog barked to say hi to people. Dog barked to say that people had better watch out and not try any funny business. Dog barked at squirrels. He couldn’t explain why he needed to bark at squirrels. He just did.

Pig was always eating garbage. And then she would track dirt across Hen’s nice clean floor on her way to take a shower. And then she would eat more garbage. And then she would take another shower. When Hen got mad at Pig for taking too many showers, Pig asked Hen if she would prefer it if Pig had a mud wallow instead. After that Hen didn’t complain about Pig’s showers.

Hen tried to keep the house clean. There were always feathers and fur everywhere. Cat didn’t want to sit still to let Rabbit brush her. “I’m a cat,” she would say. “I can clean myself.” Then she would lick off all of her own loose fur. Then eating so much hair would make her sick, and she would throw up a hairball, right on Hen’s nice clean floor. “Ooh, I feel much too sick to clean that up,” she would say. “Hen, can you do it?” Then she would take a nap.

Dog got nervous sometimes. All that barking was hard on him. He had to stay alert all day and all night. When Dog was nervous, he chewed on things. He chewed on Cat’s bed pillow, which got feathers everywhere that weren’t even Hen’s. He chewed on Rabbit’s brush, and Rabbit was angry enough to try to hit him with it. He chewed on a pair of old shoes. None of the animals wore shoes, but the shoes belonged to Goat, who also liked chewing on them, so Goat and Dog had an argument.

Pig would stay in the garbage pen when she was eating garbage. Goat would wander into the pen the day after Hen made spaghetti with tomato sauce, because he loved tomato sauce. He’d pick up the can Hen had thrown in the garbage, and lick it. Pig didn’t mind. There was plenty of garbage. But Goat wouldn’t stay still in the garbage pen. “I have to get back to the petting zoo,” he’d say. “The children want to pet me.” Then he’d walk around with the dirty tomato sauce can in his mouth, letting it drip all over the place. Children thought this was very funny. Hen didn’t.

Rabbit would get angry when she found red feathers in her hutch. “Hen! You’re getting feathers in my hutch again!” she’d say. Hen would get angry because Rabbit shed fur everywhere and it wasn’t fair for Rabbit to complain about Hen’s feathers, when Hen was the only one who even tried to keep the house clean. Rabbit would always say that her fur was putting a roof over all of their heads and paying for the groceries, because six animals ate a lot more than Hen could grow in her garden, so she was always going to the grocery store. Then Hen would say “Well, if that fur is worth so much money why is it all over the couch and not on your spindle?” and then Rabbit would hmph and say that she works hard to sell her wool and she has the right to sit down and watch TV sometimes.

They were all friends and they all worked together to make life better for all the animals in the house. But sometimes friends and housemates don’t always get along so well.

One day Hen decided she was going to bake a loaf of bread. All of the animals loved her bread. Even Cat, who wasn’t supposed to eat bread, because she was a carnivore and it was bad for her. Cat pretended she didn’t really care about the bread, but when no one was looking she would always sneak a slice.

“I’m going to make bread,” she announced. “Who wants to help me buy the supplies I’ll need?”

“Not me,” said Cat, who was running around on the kitchen flour pouncing on nothing. Sometimes she did that for fun.

“Not me,” said Dog, who was at the window looking out into the yard. He saw a squirrel. “WOOF WOOF! WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF! AR-AR-AR-AR-AR! WOOF WOOF!”

Rabbit rolled her eyes. “It’s just a squirrel,” she said. “You don’t have to bark.”

“I do! My honor as a dog requires it!”

“Are you going to help me get the groceries?” demanded Hen.

“Oh heavens no. Look at all this brushing and grooming I have to do!” Rabbit brushed her fur.

“Pig, will you come with me?”

“I would, but I’m sooo hungry, I feel like I’d eat everything in the store!” Pig said, munching on yesterday’s garbage. “Sorry, count me out.”

Hen stuck her head out the door. Goat was playing with children. “Goat, will you come with me to the store so I can buy supplies to make bread?”

“Not me,” said Goat, as the children petted him.

“Well! Then I guess I have to do it all myself! I swear I live with the biggest lazybones I’ve ever met,” Hen said, which was probably true, because last time she had housemates they were all chickens. The hens worked hard at laying eggs and sitting on them, and finding bugs and worms and plants to eat, and the roosters worked hard at defending the hens and crowing when it was morning to wake all the chickens up so they could eat. Also when they saw a squirrel, much like Dog. Also when they had an itch. Also when they just felt like it.

Hen went to the grocery store, and got flour, yeast, and vegetable oil. The vegetable oil was very heavy. She’d bought a large one, because it was on sale, but it was very hard for a little hen to drag such a heavy bottle back home, especially with the heavy bag of flour too.

When she got back to her house, she yelled, “This stuff is really heavy! Is anyone going to help me carry it into the kitchen?”

“Too busy!” yelled Goat, who was still getting petted by children.

“If I look away from the window there might be an intruder!” Dog said. “Or another squirrel!”

“Still brushing,” said Rabbit.

“I’d help, but if I look at your groceries, I might get hungry again,” Pig said. “I just now managed to get full enough to go take my shower.”

“Cat?” Hen asked.

“What, are you seriously asking me? Of course not. I’m grooming,” Cat said, licking her fur.

So Hen dragged her groceries into the kitchen and began to make the dough. She put the ingredients in a bowl and began to mix them. “Can anybody help me mix the dough here?”

“What part of ‘grooming’ are you not getting?” Cat asked.

“Maybe if Cat will watch the window for me and let me know if anything dangerous is coming, I could help you mix the dough?” Dog suggested.

“How about no?” Cat said.

“Still brushing,” Rabbit said.

Pig was in the shower, and Goat was outside, so Hen didn’t even ask.

When she was done mixing the dough, it was time to knead it. Wings are not very good at kneading things, so Hen washed her feet in the sink first. Then she climbed on the dough and began to knead it. “I don’t suppose anyone wants to help me knead the dough?” she asked.

“I am hunting a mouse here,” Cat said, which Hen thought was strange, because it looked like she was sitting still on the floor with her tail twitching.

“Wait a minute wait a minute wait a minute!” Dog said. “THERE’S AN INTRUDER!” He ran outside, barking. “Intruder! Intruder!”

Rabbit sighed. “Dog, that’s the mailman,” she said, although Dog couldn’t hear her, because he was already outside. Also, he was barking very loudly.

“You’re not brushing anymore,” Hen said. “You could help me.”

Rabbit glared at her. “I am spinning,” she said, feeding the fur from her brush into a spinner so she could turn it into wool thread.

After Hen had kneaded the dough, it was time to make it into a loaf. “Does anyone want to help me make these loaves?” she asked.

But the only one left was Rabbit. Pig was still in the shower, Goat was still being petted by children, Dog was patrolling the property, and Cat had gone outside to hunt mice. Hen looked over at Rabbit, but Rabbit was still spinning. “Humph,” Hen said. “None of you are very helpful. It would serve you right if I didn’t even let you eat any of this loaf.” But Rabbit was paying attention to her spinning, so she didn’t notice what Hen said.

When the loaves were made, Hen put them in the oven to bake. She got out the butter, so it would be nice and soft when it was time to put it on the bread, and then she washed the dishes she’d gotten dirty, and cleaned the counter, and swept the kitchen. None of the animals helped her.

Finally, the loaves came out of the oven. By this time, Rabbit was done spinning, and had finished taking pictures of her wool to add to her catalog, and now she was watching TV. Cat was sleeping in the living room with the TV on. Pig was munching on apple cores and peels from the apple pie Hen had made yesterday, as she watched TV with Rabbit. Dog and Goat were playing cards in the living room at the coffee table.

Hen marched out to the living room. “Well, the bread that I made all by myself is done. Who wants to help me eat it?” she asked.

“I’d love some!” said Pig.

“I could definitely go for bread,” Goat agreed.

“Me, too,” said Dog.

“Bread sounds nice,” Rabbit said.

Cat flicked her ear up and opened one eye. “Maybe,” she murmured sleepily.

“Well, too bad!” Hen said. “Because none of you helped me get the groceries, and none of you helped me bring in the groceries, and none of you helped me make the dough, and none of you helped me knead the dough, and none of you helped me make the loaves, and you definitely didn’t help me clean up the kitchen afterward, so why should you help yourself to any of my bread? It’s my bread and I’m going to eat it all by myself!” She flounced back into the kitchen, fluttering her wings.

All of the animals looked at each other.

Goat followed Hen into the kitchen. “You do know that Rabbit and I made the money that you used to buy those groceries, right?” he asked.

“But you didn’t help buy them. You didn’t help use them. You didn’t help clean up after them. And you never, ever do! I work very hard around here to keep this place clean and cook nice food for all of us and none of you ever help.”

“Well, all right then,” Goat said. “You do your job, without any help, and we all get the benefits. All of us do our jobs, without any help, and you get the benefits too, along with the rest of us. So why is this different?”

“Because you are all being lazy and not helping me at all. I make the food! That’s very important! But you don’t help me do that and you don’t clean up after yourselves and I’m tired of it! So I’m going to eat all the bread that I made.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Goat.

Hen humphed. “Well, you didn’t think helping me was a good idea either, and look how that turned out.”

Goat left the kitchen, and Hen sat down to eat her nice warm bread, with butter and cheese. It was delicious, but she couldn’t eat it all. She had to wrap most of the loaf up for later.

I can have it for breakfast in the morning, thought Hen.

***

In the morning, though, there was no loaf on the counter. There was a wrapper, and there were crumbs, but there was no loaf.

“Someone ate my loaf!” Hen yelled. “I said very specifically that no one was allowed to eat my loaf because no one helped me make it, but someone ate it anyway!”

“Not me,” said Rabbit, who was on the computer arranging a sale of the thread spun from her fur. “I’m too busy working to eat your loaf.”

“Not me!” said Dog, who then started barking to let Goat know that there were children coming to the petting zoo.

“Not me,” Goat said, “but if you’re not doing anything with that wrapper, I could get rid of it for you.”

“Not me,” said Pig nervously. “I’m, um, going on a diet. I’m fasting today. Sort of. Anyway I didn’t eat your bread.”

“Not me,” Cat said, yawning and stretching, “but maybe I know who did.”

“Then who was it?” Hen demanded.

“There might have been a bold rat or two in here last night looking for something to eat, and it’s possible they got into your loaf,” Cat said, washing herself.

Hen glared at her. “You saw rats get into my food, and you didn’t do anything?”

“Well, you never help me catch rats, so why should I protect your food?” Cat said. “I know you can catch a rat. I’ve seen you eat mice.”

“Rats are much too big for me! If we had a rooster here, maybe he could help you, but I can’t do anything about a rat!”

“Wait, Hen eats mice?” Rabbit’s ears perked up. “Since when?”

“Since always. Chickens will eat anything,” Cat said. “But did she help me catch the rats last night? No! So I didn’t catch the ones who were eating her loaf.”

“I’ll go outside and hunt for rats,” Dog said. “I don’t like rats being in the house! They’re intruders!” He looked over at Cat. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Maybe later. I think I’m going to have a nap right now,” Cat said.

“You just woke up,” Hen accused.

“I did. And it bored me, so I’m going back to sleep.”

Dog left. Goat nibbled at the wrapper. Hen glared at him. “I hear children outside. Aren’t you supposed to go out there and let them pet you?”

“I’m just not feeling it today,” Goat said. “After all, if I go take tickets so that children can pet me, you’ll just take the money and spend it on food I’m not allowed to eat, so why am I bothering?”

Hen huffed and went to the stove. “Well, if you won’t contribute anything to this household by working, I won’t let you have any eggs for breakfast. I worked hard laying these eggs.”

“I could eat some eggs,” Pig said.

“I thought you said you were fasting today.”

“I’m not fasting for eggs!”

“Aren’t eggs baby chickens?” Rabbit asked. “I think it’s creepy that you’re willing to cook them and eat them.”

Hen rolled her eyes, which was very difficult to do with bird eyes, but she managed it. “If I had a rooster for a husband, they’d be baby chickens and I would never let anyone eat them. But I don’t have a husband, so they’ll never become baby chicks no matter how long I sit on them. If you think it’s so creepy, Rabbit, you don’t have to have any eggs!”

“I don’t care,” Rabbit said. “You think no one gets to have any food unless they do your job for you.”

“I just want them to help! I don’t think that’s so unfair!”

“Whatever,” Rabbit said.

Hen tried to turn on the oven, and discovered that there was no firewood in the oven, so she couldn’t get it to turn on. She flapped her wings in exasperation and went outside to get firewood, but there wasn’t any.

“Rabbit! Weren’t you supposed to order more firewood?”

“Was I?” Rabbit was brushing her fur again. “I eat lettuce and greens. My food doesn’t need to be cooked, and my fur keeps me nice and warm, so why should I care about the firewood?”

“Ugh!” Hen shouted. “I have to do everything!”

She went outside to find some firewood. What she found was a pile of trash, with flies buzzing around it. Pig hadn’t eaten any of the garbage from yesterday. Hen stomped back in. “Pig! Why didn’t you eat the garbage?”

“Um, well, I’m fasting?” Pig said.

“No, you’re not, you asked for eggs.”

“I’m fasting for garbage,” Pig said.

Goat said, “Why should Pig eat the garbage for you? You’re the one who cares about how clean the house is, but you wouldn’t even let Pig have some of your bread, so why should Pig do you any favors?”

“Because it’s her job!”

“And making food for all of us is yours,” Goat said. “Excuse me.” He headed upstairs toward his bedroom.

“Well, I’m going to make some cake!” Hen yelled. “And I’m not letting you or Pig or Rabbit have any!”

“Great. Good luck finding firewood,” Goat called down the stairs.

Cat got up and stretched again. “You guys are so loud. I’m going to go take my nap somewhere else.”

“You all should leave,” Hen snapped. “You’re all useless!”

Cat stared at Hen. “I’m leaving because you’re loud and annoying, not because you told me to.” She stalked away.

“I, um, I’m going to find some food in the woods,” Pig said. “Maybe some truffles. I heard I could make a lot of money if I found truffles and sold them.”

“Goat and Rabbit are supposed to make enough money to support us all,” Hen said.

“Right, but if I had my own money, I could buy my own food and then I wouldn’t have to eat garbage ever again.”

“Well, what will happen to this house if you never eat the garbage?” Hen snapped.

“You could eat it, Hen,” Rabbit said. “You’re the one who thinks that everyone has to help do everyone else’s job.”

“Well, if I only cook for myself, then there won’t be enough garbage to worry about!” Hen said.

Before anyone else could say anything, Hen heard strange voices in the house. Human voices. “I can’t find the goat!” a child’s voice said.

“I’m sure he’s in here somewhere,” a human woman said. “Oh, look! It’s a pig, a rabbit and a hen!”

Rabbit got up and bounded away, very, very quickly, leaving her brush behind her. Hen was not as fast. “Oh no you don’t!” she clucked at the child. “Stay away from me!” The child ran toward her. Hen did not want to be petted; she squawked and ran the other way, and then the human headed her way so she ran the opposite way. Meanwhile an older human child was petting Pig, who seemed to like it very much.

“I didn’t know pigs had fur,” the older child said. “It feels just like our hair, Mom!”

“That’s very nice,” Pig said. “Maybe I’ll work with Goat in the petting zoo. It feels nice to be petted.”

Hen was still running in circles. The child came at her from one direction and then the other. She couldn’t escape the kitchen because the child’s mother was blocking the door. “Mom, I just want to pet the hen! Why is she running away?” the child asked petulantly.

“Because I don’t want to be petted!” Hen squawked. She tried to run out the back door, but there were more children outside in the garbage area, complaining that it was stinky; she could hear them through the window.

“Mom, can you catch the hen so I can pet her?” the younger child said.

“Goat! There are children here trying to pet me! Come down here!”

“Naah,” Goat called back.

“But they’re your customers! They’re looking for you, and they’re chasing me!”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Goat said.

“DOG! Help! There are children chasing me!”

“Um, Dog’s not here, remember?” Pig said. “He went hunting rats.”

Hen managed to slip past the grasping child and get out the door. The children who’d been out in the garbage pile had left, complaining about the stink. When the child who wanted to pet her headed for the same door, the child’s mother said, “No, no, there’s stinky garbage that way. Why don’t we pet the pig? We can pet the hen when she comes back.”

“Fat chance,” said Hen, as she flounced away.

Outside, she found Dog being petted. “Dog! You should have helped me! Some of those children came in the house and chased me!”

“You should have let them catch you,” Dog said, his tongue lolling and tail wagging. “These children love animals! I think I want to work with Goat every day!”

“I don’t like being petted,” Hen complained. “Now I can’t go inside my own house because there are children who are intruders, and they’re petting Pig!”

“Does Pig like it?”

“Pig likes it, but I don’t know why,” Hen complained.

“Well, I don’t have to protect Pig from something she likes,” Dog said.

Two tall adult human men, who didn’t have children with them, headed for the back door near the garbage pile. Hen clucked. “Dog! There are humans going to our garbage pile!”

“So? Maybe some humans like garbage. I like garbage, and Pig likes garbage, so maybe humans do too.”

“But it’s embarrassing! I don’t want strangers seeing our garbage!”

“I guess you’ll just have to chase them off, then,” Dog said. “Since you want everyone else to do your job or you won’t help them, we all decided that we won’t help you unless you do our jobs for us.”

Hen scowled. “Oh, so that’s it,” she said. “You all ganged up on me!”

Dog rolled on his back to get a belly rub. “Well, it seemed a little mean to me, but Goat explained that it was fair, because it’s what you did to us. All of us do our own jobs and we all work together, but you act like you’re the only one who does anything to contribute. So if you’re going to be mean to us, I guess we ought to be mean the same way to you? I mean, that’s fair, right?”

Hen squawked. “I work so hard to maintain this house!”

“And I work so hard to protect the house from intruders!” Dog said.

At this point there was a loud shattering sound from the side of the house. Dog leapt up, pulling away from the children petting him, and ran toward the sound, barking. Hen followed.

The television was lying on the ground, broken. The two humans were running away as Pig chased them, squealing. A moment later Goat came out the door and ran after the humans as well. “They stole our television!” Goat shouted.

“I’m on it! WOOF! WOOF WOOF WOOF! WOOF WOOF!” Dog ran after the two humans, which let Goat and Pig slow down and return to the house.

“Our television is broken because Dog wouldn’t do his job!” Hen said, angrily pecking at the broken TV. “If he’d been protecting the house from intruders, they wouldn’t have been able to just walk in and take the TV!” She fixed Goat with a glare. “And you encouraged him to do that!”

Goat glared right back. “It’s your fault, Hen,” he said. “You didn’t want to do your job for anyone who didn’t help you, even though we all have jobs? Well, why should Dog do his job for you? You could have chased off those intruders! You have a beak!”

“I am a little hen!” Hen yelled. “I can’t beat up a human! All of you except Rabbit would be better at that than I am!”

“Huh, it sounds like you’re saying we all should be working at the jobs we’re good at and not expecting others to step in and do our job?”

“I tried to do Dog’s job,” Pig said. “When I saw those humans taking our television I got mad and I chased them, and they dropped the TV!”

“Which broke it,” Hen said.

“Yes, but I’d rather the television broke than that intruders get to use it,” Pig said.

Dog came back, proudly holding a scrap of blue jeans in his teeth. He dropped it on the ground by them. “I didn’t catch them, but I got their pants,” he said. “I don’t think they’ll be back.”

“I tried to do your job, Dog,” Pig said. “But I wasn’t as good at it as you are.”

“Thanks for trying,” Dog said. “I really appreciate it. And you know I would never stop protecting you if you didn’t help me protect us, right, Pig?”

Pig nodded.

Rabbit came hopping back. “Are there still humans in our house, and what happened to the television?”

They explained everything to Rabbit, and explained everything again to Cat when she showed up. Goat went into the house to clear out all the human children and get them to go wait outside the petting zoo.

“This isn’t fair,” Hen said. “I spend my whole day cooking and cleaning to make the house nice for all of us, and none of you want to help at all. You’re fine with making a mess, but you don’t clean it. And Goat’s job is just for the daytime, and Rabbit can do her work whenever she wants to, and Cat and Dog take plenty of breaks, and Pig’s job is just eating! How hard is that?”

“You’re the one who decided to cook and clean,” Goat said. “You could sell eggs, just like Rabbit sells fur, but you decided to do the cooking and cleaning.”

“But I have to, because you’re all slobs,” Hen said. “Other hens will make fun of me if they see what a mess my house is! If I relied on any of you to keep the place clean, you wouldn’t!”

Cat washed her paw. “Maybe you just aren’t paying attention to what we do. When was the last time you cleaned the bathroom?”

Hen cocked her head. “Cleaned the bathroom?”

“My point exactly,” Cat said. “I make sure that the bathroom stays clean. I can’t remember the last time you bothered with that. I know none of the rest of you care, but I can’t stand a smelly bathroom.”

“And when you use cans when you cook, I clean them out and take them to recycling,” Goat said.

“And when the trash is so smelly even Pig doesn’t want to eat it, I take the bags out to the road for the garbage truck,” Dog said.

“And then you bark at the garbage truck for no reason,” Cat said.

“Well, by the time they come sometimes I forget I’m expecting them…”

“And when there was a leak in the basement, Dog and I dug out the pipes so we could patch the leak, and I ruined my fur for weeks,” Rabbit said.

“But none of those things are things you do every day,” Hen said, frustrated.

“Um, she has a point,” Pig said. “I thought she was mean about the loaf of bread, but it is true that the chores she does have to be done every day…”

“So is protecting the house!” Dog said.

Goat considered. “We all have a lot of work to do, but Hen is right that her job never stops; there are always messes, and we always need food. I can take a day off from the petting zoo and Dog doesn’t do anything if an intruder doesn’t come near the house and Rabbit only brushes and spins when she feels like she hasn’t got enough to sell, but Hen does her job all the time.”

“But nobody needs her to. She’s the one who wants to live in such a clean house,” Rabbit said.

“You complained about my feathers in your hutch,” Hen said.

“Yeah, actually, you did do that,” Cat said. “Anyway, I like a clean house.”

“I wish she wouldn’t clean up all the smells so fast,” Dog said, “but it does make it easier to smell intruders.”

“I like it when things are clean,” Pig said. “That’s why I take showers instead of getting a mud wallow.”

“So I have an idea,” Goat said. “All of us should pitch in and help Hen with chores… just so no one has a job they can’t ever walk away from for a little while. But Hen needs to understand that if we’re doing our jobs, or if we’ve had a hard day of doing our jobs all day and we’re tired, we aren’t always going to want to jump up and help with whatever, especially if it’s not a thing that needs doing. No one needed a loaf of bread yesterday, Hen, that was all your idea.”

“Well, you all wanted to eat it!”

“And you all wanted to watch TV even though Rabbit and I bought it,” Goat said. “That’s not the point.”

“I was hunting mice,” Cat said. “Who will, let me remind you, eat all your flour if I don’t stop them, and then you’re not going to bake any bread.”

“I was at my job,” Goat said. “Which you don’t want to do, and that’s fine, but don’t act like it’s not work.”

“Getting petted is work?” Dog asked.

“It sure is. You need to make sure the kids don’t fight with each other, and that they all get to pet you a fair amount of time, and of course you have to take the ticket money too, and it can be exhausting having to deal with people all day long, especially children. I don’t just lie around and get petted; I have to manage things.”

“And I was brushing and spinning,” Rabbit said, “because I had a big order I needed to ship today.”

“I don’t know how to cook,” Dog said. “I know how to protect the house, though, so I was doing that, because I was afraid I’d mess up if I tried to help you with the baking.”

“I guess I could have been more help,” Pig said. “I was really hungry, but maybe if I’d gotten a snack I could have helped out.” She looked at Goat. “And maybe I could help Goat in the petting zoo. We could take turns taking the ticket money and getting petted.”

“I could help with that too!” Dog said. “But I won’t ignore intruders going into the house just because I’m getting petted, the next time.”

“And I could help you sell vegetables and eggs, Hen,” Rabbit said. “Most of my sales are online, but I do sell yarn at the weekly farmer’s market, so I have a table there. I never asked you before because I thought the whole thing with the eggs was weird, but if they really aren’t baby chicks then I guess I have no reason not to invite you to come along and sell vegetables and eggs. That way you’d be making some of the household money, and so we wouldn’t be upset that you want us to do chores when we all have jobs.”

Hen sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got mad because I feel like you never help me and I’m always working. I understand you have jobs, but… it was hard to bring home those groceries by myself, and then I had to do all the work to make the bread, and I just got frustrated. I shouldn’t have said you couldn’t have any bread.”

***

And so the friends made up, and agreed that they would share their workloads more fairly. Hen made another loaf of bread while Rabbit and Dog were out buying a new TV with the household funds, and Goat and Pig shared petting zoo duties. Even Cat went out to get petted, for a little while. Then they all shared the bread, this time.

It was delicious.

#52 project #altered tales #comedy #chickens #why do I keep writing about chickens

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Loud House Reviews: The Loudest Thanksgiving

It’s almost Thanksgiving! And a vastly diffrent one than in recent memory: Most of us are slimming down family gatherings to just whose in our house, you know because theirs a pandemic going on and it’s not worth risking your life for it. To those either guilting their families into it or doing so because MAGa or some such I only have this to say.

Speaking of Black Friday i’ts spread over a week and it’s cyber deals mean I got a ton of graphic novels for a dollar a piece and my christmas shopping almost done. So in other words, boo Maga, yay safe and responsible captalisim. But while the holiday may be diffrent, as well as the pseudo holiday attached that spawned a wonderful musical and many many injuries, one thing stays the same; Holiday Episodes. And despite being the less popular of the three holidays, Thanksgiving still produced tons of great holiday episodes and specials. And with everything being so busy I simply didn’t put too much thought into what to do for Turkey Day.. well okay the day proper i’m going to eat, spend time with family and watch a bunch of mystery science theater 3000, stay the course even in these troubling times, just with only the 4 other people who live in my house. But in terms of episodes I thought i had nothing.. then I started actually thinking on it and what do you know I have three things I want to do for the holiday, though one might wait till next year, and possibly a fourth. But given my workload currently, i’m not one to back away from a challenge, so welcome to a three or four course meal of reviews. First course: The Loud House thanksgiving special, the loudest thanksgiving. I originally wasn’t going to do this one, mostly because due to my large workload and constant battle with procastination, I keep having to push back the latest episode review, and I have to do that one soon, as there’s a new episode in december and a christmas episode i’ve put off watching for far too long , as I INTENDED to watch eleven louds a leapin for every chirstmas up till now and never got to it before the season was over. But just like elven louds.. Nick forced my hand.. and by that I mean the SPINOFF got a thanksgiving episode that’s also a sequel in some fashion to this episode. If I wanted to cover that episode this thanksgiving or the next I had to at least watch the original. And frankly, this close to the holiday there was no reason not to review it. So with that out of the way.

Let’s Get At Er. This is The Loudest Thanksgiving... after the break

The Loudest Thanksgiving takes place during season 3, and still pre-casagrandes spinoff launch despite the christmas special taking place earlier. This is actually easy to explain: The Loud House runs on Comic Strip time... i.e. the characters don’t age unless the writers decide they do. But while the spinoff was in motion at this point, it was still a season off airing wise, and ill advised raitings stunt mini series wise, so in order to keep the Casagrandes fresh in people’s minds presumably, they did a crossover that at this point wasn’t a crossover but now technically is because the show exists but this existed before the show.

It’s just a show, and I should really just relax. Point is this is a pre-crossover crossover, the two families meet for the first time, the man already said pitter patter, let’s get back at er. So we open with Flip serving as our magical snowman narrator and regaling us with the tale of steven. Every compastionate can you imagine it... and i’m fucking with you, it’s of course abotu that time the louds and the casagrandes tried having thanksgiving together.

We then cut to Lori and Bobby being all cute, as usual, and both talking over the phone as each show off their thanksgivings to each other and the enusing family shenanigans. On Lori’s side Lynn is wearing baggy pants so she dosen’t miss the game or the meal by going to the bathroom.. because that’s how pissing yourself works. Look if your going to do something that gross, stupid and broish just woman up and wear an adult diaper. The twins are guarding Lynn sr and the food, poorly, and Lisa has invented a Gravy Squriting robot. I can only see this ending one way.

Yeah those single function robots really get useless once the exestnetial crisis kicks in.

On the casagrandes side, Rosa is likewise guarding her kitchen, Frida is painting and Hector plans to sernade eveyrone because Hector is the best and you all should know that. Even with the recent Bobby Abuse he’s still awesome. As for the Mercado, CJ and Ronnie Anne are running the annual canned food drive because CJ is better than the best and should really be used more often. Both wish they could be there.. and both honestly talk about possibly spending thanksgiving with each other and just one of their family. It’s not a wild proposition: Both are going to college soon, both are in a longterm relationship.. they plan to get married down the line for now. If things hold they will eventually have to figure this out. Of course rather than fate let them figure this out themselves, Hector overhears on Bobby’s end and Lincoln, whose busy A Clock Work Oranging himself so he can stay awake during dinner, overhears on Loris, leading to an emergency family meeting for both sides. Both families are worried their prospective teenager going to another house of their longterm significant other for one year will mean they get all the holidays. Having never had a relationship last long enough to worry about this, I don’t quite get it as in my experince watching couples juggle this.. they usually just alternate years, spoilers the solution the episode goes with, or trade off christmas and thanksgiving, both fair solutions. Buuut as much as this bothered me at first the more I thought about it the more it actually made sense: People.. aren’t always rational and won’t always do the smart or correct thing, especially when it comes to their children. And with Lori leaving college and the casagrandes being togehter for thanksgiving for the first time in about 5 years, with both ronnie anne and her mom not having had a proper one in some time due to her mom needing to work thanksgiving, presumibly because of the eternal curse of gravy chugging contests, they have valid emotional reasons to go a bit nuts and do some irrational and assholish things. They just don’t want to loose their big sister and big brother, and that’s fair. It may not be at all accurate but it’s fair.

So thus began the great Guilt Off of 2018. ON the Loud side they START with a fairly soft pitch, the twins simply offer her food early, and she takes it because honestly I would too. Then again, i’d also take free food in just about any situation, so i’m not really a good gage for this. As long as it’s not poision i’ll probably eat it if it’s free. The next two are a little.. less subtle, with the kids talking about Lori’s roll in the annual thanksgiving skit.. which I’m assuming is soley for Lynn Sr. as no one else seems to be going to their thanksgiving. Which granted theirs valid explinations for why their neighbors didn’t go, the mcbrides and mr grouse have their own families and while Mr Grouse rarely gets to see his, he now has neighborly friends after the last holiday special happy to help. But Pop Pop.. makes no sense as his girlfriend, the only plausable reason he wouldn’t be there, was said to not have much family in her debut. So he’s just.. absent from thanksgiving for no reason. Thena gain we later find out this play is movie length, so maybe he was just trying to escape that which in that case, who can blame him. Rita almost reigns things back in with the mother’s trump card: parental guilt. Almost. She then almost crushes lori’s hand but it’s funny enough. At the Casagrandes, their opening move is largely the same only Rosa wins in terms of execution, cooking up some of bobby’s faviorites to specificially target him. Frida paints him into a painting, again the Casagrandes win his one in terms of effort. They do tie in the last bit, as Maria and Ronnie Anne try the same sort of guilt slining with the same bone crushing. Eventually both teens get fed up with the next bit; For Lori, Lucy gives her a long overdramatic poem about an empty chair which is easily tied with one bit later for best bit of hte episode.. which granted when I can only think of two or three gags that really made me laugh...

Bobby likewise gets Hector telling the story about a realitvie not going to thanksgiving. Both get angry.. which for Lori, isn’t all that suprising, if entirely warranted. For Bobby though? It’s like pissing off a dolphin. IT’s hard to do and very much not something you want to actually pull of. Both families are forced to admit they eavesdropped, and are incredibly worried about this whole situation, with Lynn Sr selling lincoln up the river for telling them... this man’s capacity for selling out his children is as awe insprising as it is truly pathetic.

So the two teens go back to their rooms to figure something out and come upon a reasonable solution: just have one of the families host and both come to it. That’s more than fair. But given we still have a full special to pad out, both families are still treating this like a competion: while the louds win the coin toss, both sides are determined to win thanksgiving. IT’s far from the most insane contest i’ve seen this month, x of swords was happening and i’ve seen a russian yank a goblin out of the demonic alligator skin he was using as a puppet. And we don’t know for sure Arrakoa and Krakoa didn’t have a trial over a baby turkey being adorable as one of the challenges. Other challenges included getting drunk, an eating contest, telling someone to murder a kitten and a wedding, all of this is actual stuff that happened in this recent crossover, I have made up nothing.

So after the break and Flip realizing oh shit the audience is back, the war begins. The Louds are preparing for war, with Lola putting out a picture of herself instead of bobby and laurie because of course.. still not a half bad gag. The Casagrandes arrive and in in a passive agressive move that was already done a year before this special by Brooklyn Nine Nine and better, brought their own food.. though the roast pig is a nice and unique touch. Points for that. And this.. is where the special gets tedious. Yeah while the IDEA of this episode was really good and I was excited to cover it in practice it’s just similar gags on both sides done for both halves: The first being “let’s guilt them into staying” and the second being “Let’s one up each other” with only two bits really working: Frieda having a painting and the louds annual skit. And the skit is because it raises a LOT of questions: Why is it 90 minutes, who played the adorable turkey in the years between babies? Was it just whoever was youngest? Who wrote this? Who is this for besides Lynn Sr and Pop Pop? Who all has sat through this thing at some point? Is that why the mcbrides don’t come over for thanksgiving? It’s just.. fantastic is what i’m saying.

But otherwise this part is just the family trying to one up each other with food, or toasts, or song, before devolving into a big fight. What makes it not work is.. there isn’t a lot of personality there. You have these two big, plentiful, intresting casts, even at this stage with the Casagrandes far less established and fleshed out. And instead of finding interesting ways for them to play off one another meeting for the first time, and to use that to also flesh the characters out more for the inevitable spinoff, it’s just

For most of the second half. Thankfully it DOES manage to bring things around as after things degenerate into a food fight, the families decide to just ASK the two of them where they want to go.. and find them entirely missing. It then turns out, in a nice twist, this is where Flip came in. Since his place is the only place open 24/7 and 365, barring fishing season, Bobby and Lori fled here to flee their insane families.. who then follow them there because Carlos and Lisa have them chipped. I was suprised at first Carlos had a tracker on bobby but honestly, i’ts just common sense. The man is like a golden retriver in a man’s body. Here’s an artists interpretation

Both families breifly bicker before Lori and Bobby announce their starting their own family thankgiving with blackjack, and hookers. They really shouldn’t of let Flip in on the brainstorming session. Both families don’t want that, and apologize, admitting they just didn’t want to loose them and both genuinely offering to let the other have them next year. Flip, who despite having a “pay for my colonoscopy jar” with a picture of his ass on it, is somehow the voice of reason and just suggests trading thanksgivings every year, everyone accepts, and we do get a genuinely heartwarming ending of both sides gathering everything for a gas station thanksgiving. Honestly reminds me of king of the hill’s airport episode, but in a very good way and still unique enough circumstances to work.Also Flip, of all people, donates the cans needed to finish the can drive.. granted i’m not sure if they WANT any of that meat, but hey, he meant well and it made me really like the character. We get a heartwearming duet between hector and luna and sono the whole family and we’re out.

Final Thoughts: This was disapointing. I’ve listed most of my complaints already, but overall it wasted a good premise of two families coming together, and even the feud parts could’ve been funnier. As it is it’s just.. ehhhhhhhhhh. It has some good parts, and bobby is an angel here on earth as always. But the whole just feels padded. Like this was SUPPOSED to just be 11 minutes, got bumped up, and thus here we are. It’s not the worst Loud House has done, i’ve seen and heard of muccch worse, but for a holiday special it just feels stale and i’ve seen way better thanksgiving specials. And i’ll be getting to that. If there’s an episode of a cartoon you’d like me to cover, just pop in my ask box or dms and you can comission a review for 5 bucks a piece. Discounts on bulk, 15 for movies. Until then , happy thanksgiving.

#the loud house #the casagrandes #the loudest thanksgiving #bobby santiago #lori loud #flip #thanksgiving #i'm .. i'm not tagging everyone #there were two fullf amilies involved andi 'm tired #reviews

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doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

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"Hello Phil - What Can I Get You?"

Tuesday 16th June 2020

Good evening everyone! Well, this is it, we've come to the last episode that is going to be aired before the soap leaves our screens temporarily. I have mixed emotions, a sense of sadness as it's going to be a while until we get to see our favourite story-lines comes to an end, but also i'm kinda looking forward to the new documentaries that are going to be shown. I'm also looking forward to seeing classic EastEnders episodes, I'm looking forward to reliving such iconic moments. How are you guys feeling? I'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings about the soap leaving our screens temporarily.

And Wow! What a final episode that was! What a cliffhanger to end on!! I really enjoyed tonight's episode, let talk about Ian and Dotty first shall we? So Ian has also managed to get Dotty suspended from her university. I feel like things aren't going well for Dotty at the moment, Ian seems to be taking everything away from her due to her blackmailing him. He first managed to persuade Peter to leave her on account of Bobby, and now he's managed to get her suspended from uni because of her dealing drugs and assaulting an officer. I'm not too sure what Dotty is going to do next. Ian really put her in her place during that conversation in the restaurant, she has no evidence to prove that he locked Dennis on the boat, and also he's right that no one would believe her over him, after what trouble she's been in recently and Ian acting the doting citizen, no one would believe a word against him. So, really ... Ian can act all smug as he likes! But I do feel that as this is EastEnders and secrets never stay hidden for long, it will only be a matter of time before Sharon finds out the truth, whether she finds out from Dotty or from other source remains a mystery. But I sure am looking forward to finding out what happens next when it comes to Dotty and Ian with their constant battle with each other.

I felt it was nice to see Tina and Iqra in tonight's episode, however something Iqra said has really got me questioning something. Is Tina really sleeping at her gay bar? Since Mick and Linda announced that they were selling the pub, Tina has been the main one who has been worrying about finding a place to live. Shirley has said many times that she has a place sorted, but what about Tina? Is she actually hiding the fact that she could potentially be homeless and is sleeping rough? Is she trying not to be burden for her family? I'm intrigued to see what happens, but something is giving me a feeling that all will be revealed about Tina and her living arrangements when the soap comes back on air. It looks as if there could be a really close friendship that could build between Tina and Iqra? Could their possibly be a romance on the cards? I know it's a big suspicion but I'm convinced something might happen between them in the future. What this space - that's all I'm going to say on the matter! Anyway, it also looks as if maybe Iqra and Keegan could start working for Tina and perhaps be her supplier? However, as much as Iqra was keen on the idea, Keegan not quite so much - or not even seeming interested at all! I really don't understand why Keegan is STILL looking so miserable! He should be focusing on moving forward with his life, he needs to get things back on track with Tiffany and starting again with his sandwich business, moping and moaning is just not doing him any favours. All his friends and family are without a doubt supporting him through his recent ordeal with the police, but everything has been turned in his favour and all charges have been dropped and yet he still can't move on with his life. I'm sure we've all been aware about what's happened in America in recent weeks and with the #BlackLivesMatter movement, something is telling me that when the soap comes back onto our screens, somehow #BLM will be mentioned in Keegan's story. I mean, it would make sense, right?

Can I also just mention that scene between Gray and Suki! I feel like they were both playing each other with their own games. Gray was making digs about their business being above board, also basically saying (in his own words) that he doesn't want Chantelle working there anymore. Of course he lied by saying he had had a raise, it was only to keep Chantelle away from Kheerat. Suki surely rubbed Gray up the wrong way I feel, saying that Kheerat will do anything to keep her at the business. But then when Suki left the room and Gray started taking pictures of some documents, were they like some kind of invoice? Or perhaps some kind of information about the business? I'm interested to see what happens when Chantelle finds out that Gray went behind her back and basically lost her her job.

Awwww, can I just say how much I love the relationship between Ben and Jay! They really are brothers, they've been brought up together and they'll always have each other's back! I absolutely love it! It was only a matter of time really before either Callum or Jay found out first about Ben's hearing. It just so happened that Ben collapsed when Jay came to see him. What could have caused that? Was it due to his flu or a headache or just everything as a whole - including his hearing? However, even though Jay was concerned it was only when Ben shouted at him to look at him while he was speaking that Jay eventually clicked. Ben shouted in such a way that it was a desperate cry for help. Jay knew then, he just knew that his condition has worsened. I feel a sense of relief that Ben finally said something to someone instead of suffering in silence (No pun intended). So the damage that Danny caused to Ben's hearing due to the gunshot was a burst eardrum, luckily that will heal, and hopefully Ben can still have his operation to help regain his hearing, to some degree. It's sad though that Ben wants to hide it from Callum, he is going to find out sooner or later, whether it be from Jay or Ben himself. He will click that something isn't 100% right with his boyfriend. Will he try and get the new character, Frankie on board to try and help his boyfriend communicate better with him? Will she also convince Ben to experience life with the deaf community to see how they carry on with life? I know we have to wait a while to see what will happen next, and I know I've said it a lot in recent posts, but I genuinely am so excited to see where all these story-lines will go.

Oh poor Billy! He had been taking so much stick from Mitch that he was just about to snap ... and he eventually did! After dig, after dig and after a losing match of air hockey, he was ready to stand up to Mitch once and for all. He would be willing to do anything to fight for his woman, even ending being hit in the nose. Once Karen had been made aware of what was happening between the men in her life, Billy gave her an ultimatum, if she really wants to be with Billy, she's going to have to get Mitch to leave their flat. Which to be fair, I full support! Why should Mitch still be living with Karen when they have no romantic feeling towards each other right now? Of course they have children together, but surely Mitch could get his own place with Bailey? And Billy could potentially move in with Karen, they'd still have a family unit but then everything and everyone would be happy, right? I mean, it might be hard on the kids but they'd adjust! The Taylor household is quite big at the moment anyway, how are they all managing to fit in that tiny flat? Karen, Bernie, Chatham, Riley, Mitch, Bailey, and Keegan - even though Keegan should be living with his wife right now, but whatever - and Billy has slowly starting moving his stuff in! I do hope that Karen will stand by Billy and agree that he's right and that Mitch should move out. What do you guys think? Is Billy being a bit harsh? I don't know, I think I support Billy on this one!

Mick had quite a lot of pressure on him during this episode didn't he? He was struggling whether to give the pub to Phil or try and keep his wife happy but not selling to Phil. Either way, he was kinda in the middle of it all, which ever way he chose - one person would end up disappointed. Of course Linda would be sticking by her best friend after the way Phil treated Sharon, kicking her out after she chose her son over him - I, personally, don't back anyone over this - I can understand Phil's point of view and I can understand Sharon's point of view, it's just a shame that a little child has come between them. Phil wanted to buy The Vic in the first place for Sharon, but after her changing her mind about wanting to bring up her son permanently with Phil, Phil couldn't bring himself to look at the child, let alone love him. He couldn't bring himself to love another man's baby, especially when he first believed the child was originally his. Linda did not want to sell the Vic to the man who basically chucked his wife out just because she chose her own baby over him. Mick seemed like he was being pulled from pillar to post, being demanded by Phil to sign the papers by the end of the day to then being demanded by Linda not to sell it to him. The only person he could turn to was Sharon, he needed help, he needed advice. But Sharon could only agree that Linda needed to leave the Vic and fast - otherwise there would always be a fear of her reaching for the bottle again.

I do want mention one thing though, when Phil reminisced about the time he burnt the Vic down, it brought a smile to my face, only because I remember what an epic episode that was! For those of you who don't remember, Phil was high on drugs and he was complaining to his mother, Peggy (God rest her soul!) that she loved the pub more than him, and the only way he would take it from her would be to burn it to the ground - and so he did, with him, his Mum and everyone else inside. It was such an epic moment in EastEnders, again once of the most fascinating and phenomenal moments from Steve McFadden.

Anyway back on the subject - what an incredible ending that was! Phil turned up expecting Mick to sign the papers over to him for the Vic, only Linda was pleading for him not to. Mick then revealed that he had had a new offer from someone else, Phil literally thought he was joking as no one could've given him an offer that quick. Linda too was also confused and was eager to know who Mick had sold the pub to. Mick led them out the front and there standing behind the bar in all her glory, with Ian by her side looking as smug as ever, was Sharon! And she once again said those iconic words "Hello Phil! - What can I get you?!" Fans will remember that years earlier she said exactly the same words to Peggy when it was revealed that Sharon had taken the pub right from under Peggy's nose. She has played Phil at his own game! I do feel for Phil - that now he's lost his wife and the pub he so really wanted. I'm assuming that will mean that the game is up. Sharon has the Vic and Kayden and Phil ends up living at his home alone? I feel sorry for Phil, I did kinda want things to go his way, but in all honesty, who else truly belongs behind that bar? Who has had the longest history with the place? It would only seem right for Sharon to have it back, it was where she grew up and where she has had many many iconic Sharon moments. (Sharongate and the death of her father Dirty Den). I think it was a perfect ending for the soap to finish on.

I do feel a sense of sadness but did anyone else watch until the very end when the credits ended. The words that appeared on screen were "To Be Continued ..." That did make me feel a bit emotional but I'm looking forward to what juicy story-lines and revelations they'll be coming up with for us in the future. While the soap is off screen, I sure will be watching these upcoming documentaries and classic episodes of EastEnders. As for this blog, who knows what i'll post - I might write about the classic episodes they show or I might do my own throwbacks and perhaps write up about my favourite characters. We shall see. But it's goodbye for now and see you very soon! Thank you all! Look after yourselves and hopefully it wont be too long before our beloved soap returns! xXx

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jadelotusflower · 5 years ago

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Fic: He Will Not Encumber Me (Han, Luke, OT era)

Luke gets drunk - Han cleans up the mess.

On A03 or under the cut

There were two things the Rebels did well, in Han Solo’s opinion. The first was hail a loss as a victory simply because it was not annihilation, and the second was to keep a well stocked bar in every officer’s mess. There was of course an obvious correlation between the two.

It had been another brutal, demoralising loss for the Alliance, and Han wasn’t sure how many of those they had left in them. Yet what was left of the rebels celebrated because there was still a rebellion to be fought and therefore, still hope.

The embodiment of that hope was surrounded by a throng of fellow pilots, being hailed and toasted, fresh drinks being pressed into his hand the moment he finished the last one. Han had arrived late and took up his usual spot at the bar sipping a glass of Corellian whiskey, not quite ready to celebrate yet another brush with death.

Of course, he didn’t blame the kid; he’d been promoted after all, and deserved at least one night to enjoy it with a drink - or fifteen. Han noted with amusement the wide grin that didn’t once falter, the blearly, unfocused look to the eyes, the slightly delayed reactions, and every now and then, distinct giggling.

The newly minted Commander Skywalker was drunk.

That in and of itself should not seem unusual, but it was rare to see Luke in such a state. Han remembered the first time he’d seen Luke drink alcohol, in those heady few hours after the medal ceremony on Yavin but before the evacuation. The ale had been flowing free then too, but while Luke had consumed as much as any of them, it hadn’t seemed to affect him in the same way, or at least not as quickly.

He’d expected to be entertained by a fresh-off-the-farm boy scout giddy on victory and his first taste of real whiskey. But while his new friend and fellow survivor Antilles had slumped down onto the bar, laughing softly to himself and still clutching his glass, Luke had been perched happily on the stool beside him ordering another.

“You drank in the Mos Eisley Cantina right?” Luke had said when Han had questioned him.

“Yeah,” he’d confirmed, and made a face. “I didn’t think it was legal to sell distilled engine grease.”

“It’s Tatooine,” Luke had laughed darkly. “It’s only illegal if the Hutts don’t like it. But we have a saying too - if you can ferment it or distill it, you can drink it.”

“Whether you live to drink it again is not the barkeep’s problem I guess.”

“In Mos Eisley, sure - in Anchorhead they relied on repeat business,” Luke told him with a shrug. “But it was no less potent, there was a sill out the back using whatever desert plants we could get our hands on.”

“Tatooine moonshine, huh?” Han had lifted his glass in salute. “I’m impressed kid.”

But Luke’s tolerance for alcohol seemed to go beyond a familiarity with the strong stuff - of course there was also his metabolism that Han liked to joke was faster than the Falcon on the Kessel Run. He’d once seen the kid put away three dozen spiced ribenes (with a side order of tomo-slaw), chase them with a basket of deep fried tubers and still have room for half a sic-six layer cake.

He won every drinking game he was challenged to for a year after joining the Rebellion, which always ended up with his opponent either slumped on the floor, vomiting into a trash can, or on one ignoble occasion, in the medward getting their stomach pumped. They’d all been given a week’s latrine duty after that, and drinking games expressly banned.

Of course, the Alliance couldn’t police what happened planetside, and more than once when they’d been in need of some quick funds Han had tried to persuade him to invite challenge in the local bar. Luke had always refused, but had eventually told him the reason in that way of his - half pride, half humility.

“It’s the Force Han,” he’d said. “If I concentrate, I can feel the alcohol in my bloodstream, push it along and make it metabolise quickly.”

“The Force.” Han had been unconvinced. “Okay then.”

“I’m serious, Han. I think I’ve been doing it unconsciously all my life, but now I can control it.”

“Well kid,” Han had slapped his shoulder, and grinned. “Finally an upside to this Jedi business! So let’s pick a mark and we’ll have the credits for the parts we need by morning.”

Luke had shaken his head and sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you see, it gives me an advantage. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair would be me enjoying a Corellian sunset with a beautiful woman and surrounded by piles of credits, not on this junk planet with you scrounging for spare parts.” Han threw up his hands. “No one in this joint is playing fair - the barkeep’s watering down the whiskey, the sabacc dealer’s got cards up his sleeve, even that slot machine on the wall is rigged. Everyone’s a cheat, you just gotta be the best one.”

“Not me.” Luke was resolute, and while Han secretly admired his firm moral stance, in reality it just made things that much harder for them.

They’d made it off the planet eventually, but Han had never questioned Luke’s alcohol tolerance again.

Which was why the scene before him was so strange. Han watched Luke closely for a few more minutes, trying to determine if it was artifice. But when Luke knocked over a decanter and began apologising profusely to a potted plant rather than the bartender, he decided it couldn’t be.

There was only one explanation left - that Luke was drunk because he wanted to be.

Han wasn’t sure if he was relieved the kid was giving himself a much needed release, or deeply concerned that he was seeking a desperate escape. He sidled his way over to the throng surrounding Luke, hovering on the outskirts of the pilot pack.

Wedge Antilles clinked a fork against the side of his glass and announced he was going to make a speech. Oddly, the young pilot always kept a fork on his person, and when Han had once called it weird, Wedge had given him a wry look.

“What’s weird is putting something in your mouth that’s had a thousand other tongues on it,” he’d said, and pointed his fork at him. “Think about it.”

“No thanks,” Han had said politely, avoiding the low hanging fruit of the unintended double entendre. Others hadn’t his restraint, and since then the fork in question, and Wedge’s penchant for a clean utensil (double entendre absolutely intended) had been the source of much fun.

“Alright Antilles,” called another pilot Han couldn’t remember the name of. “Stop banging it about!”

“Yeah, keep that thing sheathed,” yet another rejoined. “There are minors present!” He put his arm around a colleague who Han knew was of age, but had a boyish face that had earned him the nickname Baby. They all had little names for each other outside their call signs, which could change from mission to mission and through movement between squadrons. Luke had, for obvious reasons after Yavin, been given the name Starkiller.

“Oh kriff off the lot of you,” Wedge made a rude gesture, but was smiling, unoffended. “I’m going to make my speech.”

He made quite a show of clearing his throat until they were all listening. “To Luke,” he raised his glass, “or should I say, Sir.” He gave a little mock curtsy and no one laughed harder than the man himself.

“I remember the first time I met Luke,” he reminisced. “When he told me quite nonchalantly that his favourite pastime on Tatooine was shooting at desert rats, and I thought this guy is in for a rude awakening once he actually gets in a proper ship. Seriously, Luke,” Wedge wagged a finger at him. “There’s no rats in space.”

“Says you,” Luke laughed. “The Executor’s full of them!”

“But much to my surprise,” Wedge continued, “the Empire’s most dangerous weapon blew up like many a mangry rodent before it, thanks to my friend the Starkiller. Since then there’s no one else I’d rather fly alongside, even if I now have to call him Sir for the privilege.”

Wedge gave him a lazy salute and raised his glass. “To Commander Skywalker!”

“Commander Skywalker!” the cheer went through the room, and Wedge clapped Luke on the shoulder as they downed their ales at a rapid pace. The former finished first, wiping his mouth and banging his empty glass down on the bar.

“Okay, enough speeches,” he threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s dance!”

Han was content to leave them to it, leaning against the bar and savoring his whiskey. It was good to see Luke let loose a bit - the poor kid rarely got the chance since between his obligations to the Rebellion and trying to train himself to be a Jedi, Han didn’t know when Luke had time to sleep, let alone have fun. Now he’d been promoted to command, another burden he seemed happy to take upon himself without thought of the consequences.

He’d had seen it too many times among pilots and revolutionaries - they shone bright and burned out quickly, taking on more responsibility, more risk, until their luck ran out. But there was no reasoning with the kid - Han had tried, and Leia was no help, she was exactly the same way. So he had to content himself with keeping close, watching over Luke, ready to pull him back from the brink when he strayed too close.

Han sighed as he signalled to the barkeep for another drink. How he’d become mother hen to these rag-tag rebels, he didn’t know. But there is was.

Aggressive rock music blared over the speakers, and Han watched in amusement Luke banging his head along in time with the heavy drum beats, mouthing the words and moving his feet with surprising rhythm. It was one of those anti-Imperial anthems, played in many an underground club to whip people into a rebellious frenzy, and a popular choice among the young pilots looking to offload some post-battle energy.

Well, the other popular choice, Han smirked as he saw a few pilots pair up and scoot off to celebrate surviving another day. A few hopefuls sidled up to Luke, and while he danced and laughed and shared a drink with them, one by one they gave up as they realised he wasn’t the one-night stand type. He'd learned the hard way early on; his mission with Nakari Kalen had been the beginnings of a sweet romance until it had ended in tragedy, and the other brief relationships he'd observed Luke have had seemed to have made him battle-shy. After the losses that day, Han didn't blame him.

Eventually the revelry died down - Wedge passed out on the lounge snoring loudly, and a few others sprawled out less comfortably on the floor. But Luke had held out, and stumbled over to Han at the bar with a boozy grin.

“What’re drinking?” Luke asked, reaching for the still mostly full bottle Han had slowly been working on.

“Something too expensive to waste on someone already drunk.” Han pulled the bottle out of his reach.

Luke laughed. “Aw, come on Han.”

“I think you’ve had enough anyway,” Han stowed the whiskey behind the bar, counting that Luke no longer had the physical dexterity to reach over it. “I’m cutting you off.”

“You can’t boss me around anymore, Han.” Luke leaned heavily on the bar. “I’m a Commander now - I outrank you.”

“Is that so?” Han was about to remind him that his title of Captain was because of his ship, not a rank in the Alliance military, but it there was little point.

“Yeah, it’s so.” Luke poked him in the chest. “I can just say, Captain Solo, fetch me a hydrospanner, or Captain Solo, stop flirting so outrageously with Leia, and you have to comply.”

Han chuckled to himself and patted Luke on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works, kid.”

“And you don’t get to call me kid anymore.” Luke brushed him away.

“Alright, Commander,” Han humoured him. “Tell you what. You walk from one side of this room to the other unaided and you can have as many more drinks as you want."

Luke stared at him for a few long moments, glanced at the large transparisteel window that made up one wall, and the exit located at the other. He straightened and cleared his throat, but then closed his eyes as if the room was spinning.

“Fine.” He pouted and leaned back against the bar. “Spoilspot.”

“Hey, you’re the Starkiller,” Han joked, “I’m the Fun Killer.”

Luke laughed more than even Han felt the remark warranted. “You’re funny,” he slurred, and laughed again. “Do you know you’re funny?”

“Yeah, I know.” He surveyed the room, not for the first time noting a significant absence. “Leia wasn’t here tonight.”

Luke shrugged. “Strategy meetings. After today, I guess they have a lot to talk about.”

“What, and leaving out the exalted Commander Skywalker?”

“I’m excepted...expected tomorrow.”

Han eyed him, thinking it would take a miracle for Luke to have sobered up by then. He leaned over the bar and poured a glass of water from the tap, forcing it into the kid’s hand.

“She did come by and congratulate me,” Luke said as he took a sip. “Kissed me too.”

“What?” Han felt a traitorous tug in his heart.

“Here.” Luke pointed to his cheek, and Han was disturbed by how much he was relieved. Their shared affection for Leia was something they never talked about, and Han could barely acknowledge he had affection for Leia, even to himself. But Luke was drunk, and therefore more likely to be more forthcoming than he usually was, and less likely to remember it.

“So, a kiss huh?” Han knew it was unscrupulous, but had to know. “And did you reciprocate?”

Luke blinked at him. “She didn’t get promoted.”

Han ran a hand over his face and laughed. “Okay, kid. But you like her right?”

“Of course, she’s my friend.”

It was like talking to a toddler. “No, I mean more than that,” he pressed, rethinking his approach. “For example, what do you feel, when you look at her?”

Luke furrowed his brow and it took him several moments to respond, as if he’d never had to put his feelings into words before.

“I feel...kinship.”

Han thought it was an odd word to describe attraction, and for the first time wondered whether Luke’s feelings for Leia were more platonic than he’d assumed. He’d certainly never pursued her, or made any kind of romantic overture, seemingly content with their friendship as it was. On the other hand, Han had never made any overtures either, although that was because he didn’t think he’d get the response he wanted, and then what he did have with her would be soured.

“Why?” Luke asked him. “What do you feel when you look at her?”

Han cleared his throat. “Yeah, same as you. Kinship and all that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes and gave him one of those appraising stares that when sober made Han feel as if the kid was reading his thoughts, but didn’t have the same effect when Luke could barely stand upright. He just looked like he was squinting.

“So Rogue Squadron huh?” Han changed to subject. “Good name.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, thankfully distracted. “It seemed right.”

“From what they say around here that Jyn Erso was quite the dame.”

Luke nodded again, staring off into the middle distance. “I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately. Do you think it’s possible to miss people you never even met?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

“There was so much I wanted to ask them,” Luke sighed. “She wore a kyber crystal on a necklace, did you know that? I wonder if there was a Jedi in her family, something she could have told me about them. And they say Chirrut Imwe was a monk, guarding knowledge of the Force at the temple on Jedha. I wish…”

“Yeah, but Luke.” Han touched his arm. “If they were still here, we wouldn’t be.”

“I know.” Luke blinked, his eyes wet. “They died so we could continue the fight. Like half the fleet today.”

“It’s what our lives have become,” Han sighed. “You know it was halfway through this little shindig I realised that other than you and Antilles, I didn’t know anyone’s real name.”

Luke looked at him ruefully. “You actually have to talk to people to learn their names you know.”

“Hmn.” Han swirled the whiskey in his glass. “You ever hear of Lernaean, kid?”

Luke shook his head.

“Vile water planet,” Han shuddered, thinking of his one and only visit, since no bounty could ever convince him to return. “They have some kind of ocean serpent there, living in the depths. You have the misfortune to come across one of ‘em, turn and run.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it can’t be killed,” Han told him putting down his glass. “Cut off its head, and two grow in its place. Cut off those two, you got four to deal with, you get it?”

“Like us,” Luke nodded. “They can take out a cell of rebels, they can destroy half our fleet, but there will always be more of us.”

“No, kid,” Han said, taking him by the shoulders. “It’s not like you at all, that’s the point! Because the Empire kills a rebel, and there aren’t two to take his place. There’s just one less rebel to worry about, and one day there won’t be any.”

“How can you say that?” Luke shook him off. “More are joining our cause all the time!”

Han shook his head - he really was just a kid. “What do you think the casualties were today - five hundred maybe? You got a thousand new recruits lined up?”

Luke’s lower lip trembled, and he took a shaky breath. “Why are you saying this Han?”

“I just want to know what your endgame is Luke,” Han pressed. “At what point do you pack it in, and say enough is enough?”

Luke raised his chin, looking up at Han with that zealous fire he had. “We don’t. We fight until we either win, or we die.”

“Simple as that?”

“Yeah.”

Han sighed again, and drowned the last of his whiskey. “And you wonder why I don’t bother to learn anyone’s name.”

“Well leave, if you think we’re such a lost cause.” Luke pushed at Han’s chest. “Go pay off Jabba and go back to whatever life you had before this. I don’t need you looking out for me.”

He pushed off the bar and clearly attempted to stride off to punctuate his point, but instead tripped over his own feet and went careering towards the floor.

“It’s alright kid,” Han caught him by the arms and lifted him upright. “I got you.”

“Commander,” Luke murmured, and was then promptly sick in a potted plant.

“Get command of your digestive system, and we’ll talk.” Han grasped a napkin off the bar and crouched down to hand it to Luke.

“This is disgusting,” he moaned pitifully and wiped his mouth.

“Welcome to the world of mere mortals.” Han gave him water so he could rinse out his mouth. “Come on.” He hauled Luke to his feet and lopped the kid’s arm around his shoulders to steady him.

“I’m never drinking again,” Luke groaned as Han helped him back his quarters and lay him on the bunk.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” Spying Luke’s lightsaber on the side table, Han moved it to a high shelf just in case. Seeing nothing else that could pose a danger - Luke kept his room depressingly clean - Han sat down on the bunk to unlace his boots.

“Maybe you’re right Han,” Luke said despondently. “Maybe this is a lost cause.”

“Ah, don’t listen to me.” Han decided to leave Luke’s socks on, and swung his feet up onto the bunk.

“I still have to fight,” Luke continued, staring at the ceiling. “Even if there’s only a fool’s hope.”

That’s exactly what it was, but Han held his tongue and patted Luke’s leg in acknowledgement.

“But you don’t have to,” Luke murmured, eyes fluttering closed. “I know this isn’t a comfortable life.”

“Yeah, well neither’s smuggling,” Han conceded. “Although the pay is better.”

Luke opened one eye. “When we met you were up to your eyes in debt to Jabba.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah but when I met an Imperial cruiser, I could drop the sprice shipment. Can’t shoot the Empire’s Most Wanted out the airlock,” he gave him a wink, “as much as I’d like to sometimes.”

Luke chuckled, eye closing again and head lolling to one side on the pillow.

“I have to leave eventually though,” Han said softly. After all, he was still in hock to Jabba up to his eyeballs, and who knew how much longer it would be before the slug sent some goon looking to take payment in blood.

“Hnm.” Luke seemed to be drifting off, so Han pulled the blanket up over him and patted his shoulder. He located an empty rubbish bin and moved it to the side of the bunk for easy access should Luke wake up and need to be sick again, which based on the kids complexion was highly likely. A quick sweep of the room left him satisfied, and he made his way to the door.

“Han?” Luke muttered, and when Han turned back he seemed asleep, but must have been only nearly so.

“Yeah?”

“That water snake - anyone ever kill it?”

Han smiled, tapping his fingers against the doorframe. “Not yet,” he said. “Who knows, maybe you will.”

The door slid closed behind him, and Han headed down the corridor to his own quarters, thinking that if anyone could slay a monster like that, he’d bet on it being Luke. And maybe - just maybe - he'd be there to see it.

#star wars fic #ot era fanfic #han solo #luke skywalker #jadelotusflower: fic #star wars original trilogy #references to rogue one #reference to heir to the jedi #minor appearance by wedge antilles #wholesome content #he ain't heavy #he's my brother

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novafoxxo76 · 5 years ago

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Yeah? Can you turn down the music. What? Can you turn down the music! I'm trying to get some sleep here! Turn down the music? How's that! How's that. Is that much better? Turn down your damn music, or I'll come over there and turn it down myself! All right, sucker. You come down here, we can dance. Hello? Hello? Bitch! When I don't get enough sleep, I get irritable. And you don't want to make me - 'Calling VAGAN' Wait! Who are you? Just a bean trying to get some sleep. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! You came here just to make us turn off the music? If you were listening on the phone, I said I would come here to turn it off myself. What! Are you insane?! Do you know what you just got yourself into? Do you know who I am! Do you know who my uncle is?! Yes. I do. Detective Cromwell. Good morning. Yeah. Something tells me there's nothing good about this morning. What do we got here? Multiple gunshots were reported coming from this warehouse. I was the first one to answer the call. Multiple gunshots, huh. You do know whose warehouse this is. Yes, sir. Have you gone inside yet? No, sir. I wanted to wait for backup. Well. It's here. My God. What a massacre. There's got to be a dozen, at least a dozen dead beans here. I guess I don't need this anymore. These were all Cappuccino's beans. Mm-hmm. It must have been some kind of gang war. No. This is no gang war. Cappuccino's beans might be dumb, but they know how to use a gun. There would have been other dead beans here, not just them. This something else. Well. One thing's for sure. We won't need that search warrant we were trying to get, huh. Heh. Yeah. I could live with this. Detective Cromwell. I found something here. 'This bullet casing is the property of Killer Bean' Killer Bean 'The bullet is meant for someone else' Hmm. What do you make of this? This guy's got balls. That's for sure. We got company! Let's go! Stop! Stop right there! This is the police! Hold it right there! Bad idea. Get out of the car! Get your hands where I can see them! Easy... Easy... Oh please, officer. Don't hurt me. Watch it. Vagan. I should have known I'd find you here, Detective Cromwell. What are you doing here, Vagan? Well, obviously something happened in my warehouse. I mean, can't a bean protect his own property anymore? Don't you mean, Cappuccino's property? You know, your obsession with Cappuccino has become quite amusing. Always trying to link everything back to Cappuccino. Why don't you tell it to the court. You're under arrest. Arrest? For what? A traffic violation? What about this? Looking for some action here? If I were looking for some action, you wouldn't be standing before me as you do right now. Yeah? That's cause I'd be shooting you with this! Are you kids done yet? I say we take him in and book him right now. You know my lawyers will have me out even before you get me to the police station. The time is not worth your effort, now is it Cromwell. Let him go. What?! I said let him go. Uh, my gun please. Nice... You know, Vagan, you're right. You're not worth my time. However, investigating the multiple homicides in your warehouse is. And whatever else we find in your warehouse, is just icing on the cake. You're free to go. And by the way, your car's parked illegally. You better get it out of here before we tow it. Oh, and Vagan. Here. It looks like I'm not the only one after your boss. ...possible suspects. Rumors have surfaced saying that there is a vigilante bean in town... What the hell is going on out there?! Ah. Looks like I got someone's attention. Who's this? Great. Playtime's over. 'Encrypted Call' 'Decoding' 'Secure Connection' This is Killer Bean. Killer Bean. What the hell are you doing? You think this is a game? What were you thinking last night? I had a rough night last night. We know what kind of night you had. Might I remind you what your mission is. You were given specific orders to hunt down and eliminate the target. No one else! Drawing this kind of attention to yourself is dangerous for us, and especially for you. What's the big deal? I killed a bunch of gangsters. I'm sure the Beantown police are a lot happier without them. You didn't do anyone a favor with that mess you created last night. And you are not working for the Beantown police. You are working for us! I'll still get the job done. I'll get him. We're running out of time. He has to know you're coming by now. Remember who he is. Yeah. I know what the mission is. Then stick to it! Don't be so reckless, Killer Bean. I'll call you when I got him! Reckless! Pff! Reckless my brown bean ass! 'Decoding' 'Secure Connection' Yes? Jet Bean, you have been activated for an urgent mission in Beantown. Beantown? I'm a long way from Beantown. It would be best to assign someone else. This mission is highly sensitive. You are the most capable for the job. It figures. Fine. I'll do it. Good. We'll contact you with the details as soon as you reach the shore. See you in Beantown. They better have some good food in Beantown. Wait. Are you leaving? Yes. How long will you go for? A long time. Oh... I have something I want to give to you. Oh... You shouldn't have. Here! It's the bill! You haven't paid in three months! I'm leaving now. I will pay when I get back. Hey! You get back here pay now! Tsingtao! Get out here! He say your food tastes like ass crack. What?! Make bean curd out of him! I said I'll pay when I get back! Oh. It's okay. It's on the house. You don't have to come back! Please! Looking at the figures from our previous fiscal year. Narcotic sales have dropped 57 percent. 57 percent! That's more than half! Now, compare this to the 300 percent growth from our weapons department. But you guys... You guys are not from my weapons department, are you. No... You guys are from my narcotics department, okay?! So what do I have to do, huh? How can I get through to you guys?! Dude. I have such a hangover. Yeah bean, that was a kick-ass party last night, right? Yeah. Too bad we didn't stay for the whole thing. I bet they had some fun. Woot! Woot! You see, it's easy when you think about it. Crime is on the rise, okay. So more guns sell, because criminals use guns. Hello!! They also use drugs! So more drugs should sell, right? What's the problem here? Now, you guys. Someone give me a reasonable explanation, okay? Why are narcotic sales performing so poorly? It's all those anti-drug commercials on TV. You never see any anti-gun commercials. It's not fair. It has become quite apparent to me, that some of you do not value your job. Now... That is quite odd, if you ask me. Especially in today's economy. But I am forced to say... It is time... To lay off! A few beans!! Ooohhh!!! Uh, wait. I have a question. Yes. Will I be eligible for unemployment? Hmm. Let me check with the finance department on that, okay? My social security number is... 3, 4, 6... Oh boy. Is my batting average going to go up after this. Ahem- Hang on, let me just finish this level. Cappuccino! Ah. Vagan. I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can teach these beans something about business, since you've handled my weapons department so well. That bean is nothing but a kiss-ass brown-noser. What does he know that we don't know? But he's making millions of dollars selling weapons. If you ask me, He's doing something illegal. Oh, it's great to see you, Vagan. But you'll have to excuse me. I'm in an important meeting right now. This is more important. It's about the warehouse on Baker Street. Oh that. It's okay. I know. You know? Yeah. My nephew was having a party of there last night, okay? No, it's not about the party. Well. It is. There was a hit on the warehouse. Everyone is dead. Who did this. I have reason to believe that it was done by a bean named, Killer Bean. Killer Bean... One bean? This is no ordinary bean. I've heard of him before. I know what he can do. Who the hell is he? Who sent him? Is it the Colombians? Is it the French trying to roast me? It has to be one of your competitors. Who ever it is, I want you to find him. I want you to find him, and destroy him! Oh, believe me I will try. But first, we have Killer Bean to deal with. He's somewhere out there, and he's coming after you. All right. We need to consolidate all of our warehouses. There's too many targets for him to attack. Move all our inventory to the central warehouse on Main Street. I want you to protect that place. What about Killer Bean? What do you want me to do? Oh nothing. Just send him a box of chocolates, and tell him thanks for the memories. You idiot! What do you think you should do? Kill him. Any way you can, by any means. Put him in the ground! I'll need more beans. Professional beans. Put it on my credit card, okay. Just do it! Yes, sir. Vagan. Make sure you find out who sent him. There will be hell to pay. Hello. Hey, Harry. It's Detective Cromwell. Hey, Cromwell. Hey did you get the package I sent you? Yeah, it's pretty wild stuff. Our crime lab is getting nowhere with this. What do you make of it? Well, the easy ones the tire tread sample. I tested the residue you sent, and the tires are made from silicon steel fiber alloy. It's only used on high-performance cars. It's not unique, but it's hard to come by. Hmm... What about the gold bullets? Now that. In my 15 years with Special Forces, I've never seen gold used in any weapon. But for practical purposes gold is a very soft metal. So the bullets expand and deform on high impact. They make little holes on the way in and big holes on the way out. And they are much harder to match the ballistic signatures. That makes them relatively untraceable. Yeah, that doesn't make sense if the bullet casings have his name on it. And he left those everywhere. Yeah. Killer Bean. Yeah, I don't get that. He must be one sick bean, like he wanted to be found out. Yeah, or he's bragging. Or just plain careless. This Killer Bean has to be working for someone to get that kind of financial backing. You think he's a gun for hire? Or he could be a vigilante. That's the word on the street. Either way, one thing's for sure. He has his eyes set on Cappuccino. Heh, well then you both have something in common. Yeah. If that's true, I have a hunch where this Killer Bean will show up next. Hey, I gotta go. See you, Harry. Later. 'Suspected Cappuccino's Warehouses' Dramatic entrance... Dramatic entrance... Well, that pretty much frees up my day. Time for some breakfast. 'Shadow Bean, you are too late.' Howdy. What will it be? Tequila and tonic. And, uh. Turn up the TV. Detective Cromwell, concerning possible suspects, rumors have surfaced that there is a vigilante bean in town, who is hunting down Cappuccino. There is no evidence for your vigilante theory. As far as I'm concerned, the suspect or suspects involved in these homicides are no friends of the police. We will do what is necessary to bring them to justice. Thank you. I don't think so. I'll have another. And you can turn that crap off now. What can I get you? I'll have what he's having. This is a rough part of town. Do you always sit with your back to the entrance? Doesn't matter who comes in. Isn't it against police regulation to be drinking during the day? I'm a detective. Our regulations are a little different. How'd you know I was with the police? You know, you're much uglier in person. Heh. My name is Detective Cromwell. And you are? Jack. Well, Jack... I guess you heard what happened this morning over at the warehouse on Baker Street. Yeah, I know about that. Really. Tell me what you know. Why don't we cut to the chase. Why don't you tell me what you know. Oh, I know a lot. I know the Baker Street warehouse is owned by Cappuccino. I know someone killed 12 beans in that warehouse last night. I know the killer drove a fancy car, and has fancy guns. I know that the warehouse across the street with the big hole in the window also belongs to Cappuccino. I see this fancy car parked in front, and well, you don't look like you walked here. So my guess is... This, belongs to you. Well it looks like you figured it all out. Good job. Another! It was easy. You were just reckless. The way I see it, you're the one who's being reckless. You come out here looking for me by yourself. You didn't bring anyone to back you up. That's reckless. Here's my backup. That's a nice gun. Wanna see mine! How can I see it, if you have it against the side of my head? Not bad. But mine's bigger. You do the math. Why are you after Cappuccino? That's for me to know, and you not to know. Well, I know I can't have a crazy vigilante running around shooting up beans. But you're no vigilante, are you. Seems like there are beans who've invested in you, And I'm sure they're not happy with the press you're getting. This is where I can help you. I don't need help. Well, you see. I'm bound by the law. I've been working this Cappuccino case for over three years. Every time we think we have something on him, his lawyers get in the way and get him out. I wish I was like you. I wish I could just walk up to him and shoot him. But I can't. It's too bad. Because I know where is central warehouse is. Not these abandoned warehouses, like that one out there. Why don't you pay him a visit? You got the wrong bean. I'm not just some hired gun. Who says I'm hiring you? You already have a boss, don't you? I bet he doesn't really like all that attention that you're getting from the media. I can make that go away. I control the evidence, and the evidence says it could've been some rival gang that killed all of Cappuccino's beans last night, or... It could be you. And I have a lot of evidence that says that. Are you going to take me in? I can take you down. Oh... I would enjoy that. Freeze! Get out of my bar you punks! I know how to use this! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hold on! I'm a cop! Put down your gun! I don't trust any of you. You drop your guns, both of you! Sorry, grandpa. It doesn't work like that. Okay, okay. I'm going to slowly lower my gun, and I'm gonna go, alright? Alright? This will be real easy. See? This is easy. Killer Bean. Remember what I said. We can help each other. Just help yourself out the door. This is for the drinks. Mine and his. Now, you mind if I go to the bathroom before I go? Be quick. Your life depends on it. So dramatic. Sorry. It was a double flusher. But you only flushed once. Hey... Don't I know you from somewhere? Who is Shadow Bean? You're in way over your head. Who is Shadow Bean?! You don't have to yell. I'm right next to you. Answer me! Are there two of you?! You're not going to shoot me if you need the answers. Besides, I can't answer you anyway. So... I'll have to do this instead! It's a good idea for you to stay down. We'll settle this later. You're not as dumb as you look. Hello. Harry. It's Cromwell. My hunch was right. Killer Bean hit Cappuccino's warehouse on the east side. In fact, he was still here when I got here. Whoa, how did that go? Not as well as I would have liked. Hey listen. I got some new info. I found a note in front of Cappuccino's warehouse. It said, Shadow Bean, you are too late. Does that mean anything to you? Harry? You still there? I didn't know they were still in operation. Who? The Shadow Beans. Harry, what's going on? They're highly trained operatives of an organization called the Shadow Agency. Shadow Agency? What are they, a government agency? Why haven't I heard of them? I think they were a private organization. There are some things the government does that are not meant to be known. Their collaboration with the Shadow Agency was one of them. When diplomatic and military tactics failed, our government hired the Shadow Agency to eliminate national security threats. It was more cost effective than training and maintaining our own elite assassins. And the Shadow Beans were better than anything we had. Great. But why here? What are the Shadow Beans doing in Beantown? And what could they possibly want with Cappuccino? I don't know. I thought the Shadow Agency was disbanded. I know our government stopped using them nearly a decade ago. I haven't heard of them since. So do you think this Killer Bean is a Shadow Bean operative? It sounds like he's certainly good enough to be. What do you think I should do is stop him? I don't even know if you can't stop him. But you can start by putting all your cops on double duty. Right... This is the place. Dramatic entrance. Bean, I hate this job. It's so freaking boring. All we do we sit around and drink beer. Are you kidding? This is my dream job! Hey! We're not supposed to be just sitting around drinking beer. Remember what Vagan said? He said we got to move all those crates by morning. If the cops find this stuff, we are screwed. Where are we supposed to move them? I don't know. I didn't really listen to that part. Hey, give me another beer. Oh here, have mine. I shouldn't drink anymore. *sniff* *cough* I have a really bad cold. All right! Wait... is this a low carb beer? Hey, speaking of beer... Did you beans hear what happened at the party last night? Some dude went in there, and killed everyone. He even killed Cappuccino's nephew. Geez... Who was this bean that killed everyone? Is he someone I should be worried about? Nah. He's probably just some crazed lunatic, running around with lots of guns. You know, that's the problem with this country. Too many crazed lunatics with guns. Isn't that right, baby? The lunatics aren't the problem. The real problem is the guns. What this country needs is some serious gun control. I mean, we need to take away all the guns. All of them! And just get rid of them! But not my gun. Ohhh! Ow! Bean, you dropped into the wrong place. Looks like what we got here is a standoff. Not really. Over there! Take cover! Call the boss! Get some help! Hello. Vagan! We're being attacked. I think it's Killer Bean! How do you know? Well... He's killing everyone! We're sending the mercenaries. Just hold tight. Keep firing! Don't let up! Grenade!! I can see we came to the right place. You made short work of these beans. Don't expect the same fight from us. My squad has been with me through hell. I hand selected them myself from the Academy ten years ago. All of them graduated with top honors. I led these beans through three tours of duty, accumulating a total of 15 Medals of Honor, 11 Purple Hearts. Sure, we lost a few good beans... But you should see what we did to the other bloke. Well, then we went into business for ourselves. Escort detail for high-level dignitaries, Hostage extraction, corporate assassinations, preemptive surgical strikes, Or just plain search and destroy. Heck, we even robbed a few federal banks with business with slow. So... So this little shindig we got here... Oh, it's nothing. It's just a walk in the park. Are you going to say something or what? Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I must have totally zoned out on you. Whoa, my eyes are starting to water. Whoo! Sorry. Let's make one thing clear. Last night was a party. Tonight, I get to work! Decaffeinated. Oh well. It was worth a try. This is not a good idea. We should kill him now. Patience, Vagan. I need answers. I need answers from him. He's awake. So. This is the great Killer Bean. Yeah. You attack my warehouses. You kill my beans. What do you want from me?! My guns would be nice. Better enjoy a while it lasts, tough guy. Tough words from a bean who is helpless. Ohhh... No, you did not! Okay. Maybe you did. What do you want, Killer Bean? Who are you working for? What. You expect me to just blurt it all out? My nephew was at the Baker Street warehouse when you attacked it, okay. I think you owe me an explanation. Your nephew? Hmm... Your nephew... He was such a good boy. He wanted to be a DJ as some big nightclub. I told him, someday I'll buy you your own my club. As long as you sell my drugs there. Eh, the profit sharing we never agreed on. But you know, he was such a sweet kid. Oh yeah. Yeah remember him. He was the one playing the music. He always loved his music. Well, he's dead now. Kill this bean. He's wasting my time. It's about time. How does it feel to be killed, by your own gun? Funny... I was about to ask you the same thing. Are we done playing games for today? Finally... Dispatch. This is Cromwell. Roger, Detective Cromwell. I need backup. I'm at 43rd and Main Street. Right away, sir. There's no rush. I got time. Cromwell out. How dare you! How dare you come onto my property, looking to kill me! Who do you think you are? Hate to burst your bubble, Cappuccino... but I'm not here to kill you. What? I'm here to kill him. You just got in my way. I don't understand. You want to kill him? Not me? What the hell is going on? Just shoot him already. It's complicated. Why don't you just beat it. No. I'm quite interested to knowing why. Fine. You wanna die to? Believe me, it's no trouble at all. Actually, uh... I think that my estimated taxes are due soon. I like to stay on top of that stuff. Good idea. Oh. By the way. Vagan? You're fired!! It's about time they sent someone with some talent after me. Nothing but the best for you, Dark Bean. Yeah. I guess they finally learned it's gonna take the best. What the hell is going on? You were one of the Shadow Agency's top beans. I used to look up to you. Now I have to kill you. Why did you betray us, Dark Bean? I didn't betray anyone. The Shadow Agency betrayed me. What? You're the one who destroyed our database, and stole years of intelligence work. How could you do that? And how could you go from policing the world to running guns for this two-bit gangster? Why did you join the Shadow Agency, Killer Bean? To get rid of the trash in this world, one bullet at a time. Yeah, we all joined for the same reason. But when I joined the Shadow Agency 12 years ago, It was more clear cut. Our job was to neutralize threats, while the politicians were paralyzed in diplomatic bullshit. That's just the way I like it. Times have changed. The agency was always privately controlled, But originally we always worked with the government to protect our citizens. Then it all changed. I'm not sure what caused the shift but now, we're just guns for hire, providing services to the highest bidder. Anyone with the right amount of money can buy the talents of the Shadow Beans. On one mission, I was asked to protect some rich dictator. On another, I assassinated an opposing leader. It didn't matter what we did. The Shadow Agency always convinced us that what we did was for the right reasons. But before I left, they had me deliver weapons to the very group of beans I had spent several years trying to take down. That was it for me. Do you expect me to believe any of this? All I know is that you breached the agency's security, and stole years of intelligence work. I didn't steal anything. All the information I took was mine. I wasn't about to give up 12 years of sweat and blood. I needed it to continue my work. And exactly how does serving Cappuccino continue your work? Cappuccino is a major player in the weapons market. Posing as his lackey puts me on the inside. I can find out who wants what, who sells what, and where the big threats are. But unlike at the Shadow Agency, I can finally kill the beans who deserve to be killed. You got yourself a few more minutes of life with that story, Dark Bean. But you can't out talk my trigger finger. It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. This is probably your last mission. If I don't kill you, the Shadow Agency will. What the hell are you talking about? I'm one of their best Shadow Beans. Why would they want me dead? The Shadow Agency knows I could expose them. Any agent that comes in contact with me is compromised. And from what I've been hearing, You've been a liability to the agency since the day you started. Seeing the mess you made last night confirms that the Shadow Agency has a hard time controlling you. They must know you joined for the same reasons I did. They know it's only a matter of time before you find out the truth about them. And if they can't control you now, how will they control you when you do find out? It's smarter for them to diffuse you now, before you become a bigger problem. If they wanted me dead, then why even send me on this mission? You said it yourself. You're one of their best. They tried to kill me before. They sent Shadow Beans after me twice. They both failed. Think about it, Killer Bean. They want us both dead, and we're hard to kill. Regardless of the outcome of this mission, the agency gets what they want. Because one of us will be eliminated. No, no. You're lying. I'm not gonna believe you. I won't believe a word you say. I had to take the shot. I would have done more with my life than you ever will. Doesn't matter now. We're both dead beans. Dispatch. This is Cromwell. Where's my backup? 6 squad cars eta 3 minutes, 2 special assault units in 5. Get me more. How many, sir? Everyone. Yes? Yes, I am here. 'Deactivated' And who is the target? 'Deactivated' No. No problem at all. I've always wanted to meet him. I'll call you when the job is done. 'Secure Connection' Drop your guns! Put em down, now! It's not gonna end like this. Drop your guns! Whoa, whoa ,whoa! Easy, hold your fire! Finally brought some backup, huh. Yeah. Does this satisfy your ego? What do you want, Cromwell? Coming to see if I did your dirty work? He's right over there. Yeah, he's dead all right. But you didn't kill him. He did. What does it matter? You got the results you wanted. Now just step aside and let me by. Let you by? You're the key to this whole mess. If I let you go, I'll never find out about the Shadow Agency, or the Shadow Beans. I can't help you. Why not? You are Shadow Bean, aren't you? Not anymore. They're coming after you, aren't they. Don't shoot! Hold your fire! If you tell me what I need to know, I can protect you. I highly doubt that. I can at least give you a place to stay tonight. Let me help you, Killer Bean. There is nothing you can do that will help me. But I do need a quiet place to think. Not exactly what I had in mind, but this will do. Make yourself at home. This will keep you safe for the night. Hell, it'll probably keep us safe too. I don't plan on staying long. I'll be back in the morning. We have a lot to talk about. Who were these guys? I'd like to know where they get guns like this. Hey, don't touch that stuff. You know better than that. You're contaminating the evidence. I don't think we're going to have a shortage of evidence here. Whoa, hold it! This is a crime scene. No one is allowed on the premises. Yeah. Nobody ordered no egg foo yung here. Where is Killer Bean? Killer Bean? We put his ass in the slammer. Wait. Who are you? Let me put it in a language you can understand. So sorry. No chow mein here. You deliver wrong place. Get your hands in the air! Put them up, now! Now put your hands on your head, drop to your knees. Commander. Thanks for your help. I'm turning in for the night. I'll be back in the morning. Right, sir. We'll be here when you get back. Excellent. What do we got here? Just some punk bean we caught assaulting an officer. Well he sure picked the wrong night to do that. Take him in. Hold it! Another move, and we drop you! Take him out! These are very nice guns. Are you sure you want to do that? You need them more than I do. So you're the bean they sent to kill me. Mmm hmm. Who are you? I am Jet Bean. Assassin from the East. I completed my mission. Why do they want me dead? They don't tell me why. And I don't ask. They decided to kill me the moment they sent me on this mission, didn't they. That's what Dark Bean told me. The agency knew that once I found out the truth about them, they couldn't trust me. They were right. Save your breath, Killer Bean. You're going to need it. Don't you know what the Shadow Agency is? Don't you realize how they're using us? I can see you've been brainwashed by Dark Bean. He was a fool. No one Shadow Bean can threaten the agency. But I'm no Shadow Bean. I certainly hope you trained harder than that. Well... At least you're in the fighting mood now. You have been a formidable opponent. I am sorry I have to end this game. You already tried that. It's over. Not for you. 'Secure Connection' Jet Bean, is your mission complete? Jet Bean is dead. Killer Bean... I learned a lot about the Shadow Agency today. And it's not for me. I quit. Don't be rash. Think about what you are doing. Why don't you come in? We can talk things over. Oh, I'm coming in. But it won't be for talking. This will do.

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apricot-kingdom · 5 years ago

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Yami Bakura’s Cafe Au

Bakura (Yami Bakura) is a fantastic cook, he actually fed Ryou a lot whilst sharing a body. He cooked things and put them in the fridge for Ryou to find and eat, it reminds him of when he cooked with his mother. He loves to learn new things about cooking, recipes, new inventions, everything. In Au’s more so, he owns a bakery or cafe and loves baking cakes and such, drinking his coffee its peaceful but he loves it

Bakura’s cafe is in a quieter part of town, he opened it and started it up as soon as he could. Renovations took a while to get it up and running but with others help its as done and it gave him time to hire staff, and start practicing more and more recipes and pastries to sell

Bakura loves to learn as many new recipes as possible and has a lot of books from all over, he plans to travel and learn more all over the globe. Plus he just wants to travel in general

He’s definitely the best cook among the gang and often pokes at Ryou because he really needs to learn how to cook a bit better. Ryou’s just too lazy he’ll eat anything mostly what others make him so he doesn’t bother physically learning himself past a few very basics that Bakura basically forced him into learning

if he’s short staffed sometimes one of his friends will come in if their free, mostly for taking orders and stuff

he has large open windows at the front so you can easily look outside and outside has a wall for regular customers and you can put your handprint up on it so you stay apart of the ‘family’ Also. No one dares graffiti on his property, anyone whose tried has regretted it. Everyone damn well knows not to mess with him

It's a warm homely shop

Between the lot of them (other characters eg, Yuugi, Ryou, Tau and such) no one allows Bakura to work holidays they always make sure he has plans or company. Even if they don’t celebrate the holiday or he doesn’t they make sure he has company and plans holiday or not holiday related one

Bakura makes them all new year dishes and watch fireworks together on his roof or at the park close to his cafe, sometimes during the day others come in and try to help on the dishes but it's mostly just keeping Bakura company as he cooks

Bakura bakes a lot of testing dishes at home and sometimes can get carried away so he’ll throw ‘surprise’ get togethers with Ryou, Malik, Yuugi’s gang everyone in his contact list basically to come eat all the food and they usually make a games, movie night or something similar out of it

Not that he’ll admit to it any more but at the beginning he did cringe at the thought of cooking, he seriously couldn’t have cared in the slightest. He just wasn’t bothered, it wasn’t until he actually just started to do it. Either from lack of other things to do or just because. In a lot of AU’s I have, where he’s Ryou’s younger twin. He starts it up more so when he starts getting suspensions from school, so he cooks with their mother on his ‘days off’. And they spent hours together just cooking different recipes, he kept them all and treasure they deeply. He misses her a lot but he loves seeing what he can make and likes to think she’d be proud of what he’s able to create now

his clothes often smell of things he’s cooked or coffee

He use to cook a lot of stews before he found his passion for pastries and cakes Other character related scenarios below the cut:

All these are sorta stand alone scenarios since some of the information may over lap. None of these are romantic, they’re just how different characters would interact with Yami Bakura and his cafe in this au Xp

Bakura and Mako Interaction in this au If Bakura owns a cafe, he’s the cook and Mako’s on smoothies and coffees he’s great with drinks anything to do with liquids and he’s the king. They work together, in a pun harmony. Most customers know they’ll probably get a pun with these two working. On quieter days they’ll have lunch out back together Mako makes drinks and Bakura the food. Mako teases Bakura a fair bit too loosen up and if food can talk, it’ll talk if he has a say. Bakura seriously just can’t take it seriously when he’s trying to be grumpy about something petty, and Mako’s using a fish to fight the argument or patterned oven mitts. Mako also is really good at helping Bakura to ensure he gets the freshest ingredients possible and on weekends they often go to food markets together. And Mako’s taken Bakura fishing his fair amount of times, Bakura’s helpless at fishing, but he’ll cook up anything and everything Mako catches. They kiss and release the rest. They both ensure to kiss every single one they’re releasing. Kiss it for luck.

Bakura and Malik Interaction in this au Malik’s one of his most common customers to get coffee before he headed off to the garage to start work and often comes in later covered in grease, towel often hanging off his hip hair tied back into a pigtail or sometimes he’ll have a late afternoon shower and wash his hair then come just before closing. Bakura usually has a coffee with him and maybe a muffin if they have any left over and it’s not too busy still. And if something’s broken, Malik can quite often come to help repair it in his spare time. He’s pretty good with most machines and only requests a vegan friendly cake to take home after his done. Plus Bakura doesn’t mind watching him work like when he helped fix the oven or when he took apart the toaster then decided he needed to take it home to put back together

Bakura and Ryou Interaction in this au Ryou often sits in his cafe writing his stories with a tea or hot chocolate, his tables always littered with papers of all his notes and he’s got at least five notebooks if not more and three of them are usually different sizes, typing and researching on his laptop, other research books with him too and Bakura sighs as he takes up his seats with his books, careful to not put the drinks on the papers. He puts Ryou’s things behind the counter if they roll off the table or he forgets them. And he always saves something sweet if possible at the end for Ryou and Ryou happily accepts

Bakura and Yuugi Interaction in this au Yuugi set up the unofficial games corner in his cafe and people come to play games with him, from cards to checkers and so on. Whilst ordering food and drink from Bakura and on his breaks Bakura will join in the games. Yuugi will often ‘forget’ his things that conveniently all have the sticker if found call me. Sometimes Bakura will get one of his other employees to call just to mess with Yuugi and Yuugi often pouts and thanks them politely. And Yuugi understands what it’s like to be really passionate over something so sometimes they’ll meet up and do a puzzle and chat about each other’s passions, Yuugi games and puzzles and Bakura cooking, they’ll show each other magazines books and whatever else and even if they don’t always understand what the heck the other is going on about they listen very intently and ask questions now and again

Bakura and Kaiba Interaction in this au Kaiba gives huge tips, and ensures nothing shuts down the cafe, he often sends in a customer to give an ‘anonymous’ tip to Bakura. And when it’s quieter he’ll come in himself and say he’s just doing some work or Mokuba said he needed to get out, he just really enjoys Bakura’s cooking and often buys out their stock since he’ll come later, then he takes it home to Mokuba. In saying that when Bakura and Kaiba get talking they can easily talk about business owning and Bakura’s more then interested in Kaiba’s less than friendly ways of business. Such as always ensuring you own 51% of all stock. Because then you have majority, they usually play chess or checkers during these chats. Bakura didn’t know chess but he picked it up pretty fast and he researched it at home so now they actually can get into quiet competitive games together

Bakura and Yami Marik (Tau) Interaction in this au Bakura has some of Tau’s art around his cafe and he actually helped design the cafe, he painted all the walls and any of the pictures painted on the physical walls was done by him. Tau sits in the window with a muffin and his sketch pad all day, he won’t admit to it or show him, but he has a lot of sketches of Bakura working around the cafe. Between him and Bakura they both forget pens behind their ears way too often they’d beat the world record, it’s only when they head home and stare in the mirror they notice they’d left one there and sometimes they’ve spent over an hour looking around the cafe for it after closing.

Bakura and Yami Yugi (Yami) Interaction in this au Yami kinda just shows up now and again, he doesn’t explain himself, but he always comes when its quiet he orders two of everything. He never asks but Bakura often does sit with him they don’t talk about it but they know what’s up. Sometimes they argue and bicker, others they have heated discussions, sometimes they sit in silence, or they have a casual conversation. They understand, its kinda just an unspoken understanding these days

Bakura and Ishizu Interaction in this au She comes in and gets her lunch during the working day, she doesn’t often actually stay but she always does leave little comments like I see the bright future of this cafe. Her and Bakura still don’t always see eye to eye and a lot of teasing can be involved, he literally went out of his way to make her fortune cookies just to see how she’d react. She gracefully accepted and ensured to tell him every fortune he’d written her in the first place, at first it was kinda just you know to tease but now he makes them if he wants to tell her something or invite her places, and it's kinda like an inside joke. He’ll just casually slip it in with her lunch to find when she goes back to her office at the museum. In a way he sees her as an odd older sister

Bakura, Mana and Mahado (Ian) Interaction in this au Mana and Mahado perform magic shows outside the cafe a lot and Bakura grins watching them through his window he eventually caved and put a small stage area for singers and such. But really he just wanted a better view of their magic acts. Honestly Ian doesn’t fully trust Bakura but he’s always happy to perform and the look he gets tells him Bakura truly enjoys it. Despite it all, simple street magic was kinda special in its own way. And Bakura always ensures they have fresh drinks ready and waiting to cool them down after a show. Bakura set up a talent night and held the cafe open and got, Yuugi, Ryou and Malik to judge a little contest. The winner got a cake. Mana won with her Magic act, he tries to hold a similar one yearly. Ian’s won a few since

Bakura Jonouchi Interaction in this au Despite we all know how spooked Jou can get, he always comes in around Halloween with Ryou and they all set up halloween decorations, or as Bakura likes to think. He’s a perfect tester to ensure Ryou doesn’t go over board and freak his customers all away, if Jou can handle it. Its safe to keep if not. Back to where ever Ryou scrounged it from. Otherwise Jou actually isn’t that bad of a cook himself having to be somewhat dependant from a young age he knows how to look after himself and helps back in the kitchen sometimes though Bakura will bonk him on the head if he tries to ‘taste test’ too many of their ingredients. But often follows suit regardless

Bakura and Mai Interaction in this au Mai’s like another older sister, and she’s really good at helping with Bakura’s people skills. Because honestly, he loves his cafe, he loves cooking, loves the smell, general chatter around him. But if he has to personally speak to customers he doesn’t really know, that can be an issue, they tend to irritate him easily especially if they ask him too what he considers personal questions. And he has been known to scare one or two off. So Mai coaches him in customer service, he’s amazed by how popular she gets so easy. Though he always makes her tie back her hair. So before the day begins they sit out back doing each others hair whilst she gives tips and they chat

Bakura Ryuji Interaction in this au Owning a game shop as well, Ryuji comes quite in handy doing stock take, and checking over all the new stock. Together they are able to easily and swiftly look through everything and figure out if they need to send any of it back, Bakura will help at his game shop occasionally but in return Ryuji helps him at his cafe with it. And Ryuji almost weekly on the dot comes in with a new set of dice which Bakura displays along the cash register, sometimes they have a game first depending on the role. Bakura might have to give a discount, or even give Ryuji free food for that day or in return he might get double the original price. So it's definitely a game of chance

Bakura and Pegasus Interaction in this au Pegasus always makes a dramatic entry to the shop, so now when ever he enters Bakura almost instantly gives him a broom and dustpan to clean up any and all the glitter and or confetti he used to make it dramatic. In saying that Pegasus always manages to get the entire shops attention and he often admires everything Bakura does and if he catches Bakura on break he shows him mock designs of pastry monster cards and such. Bakura snickers and makes up ridiculous abilities for them. And for April fools every year he makes a weird concoction, doesn’t care what’s inside as long as its red and drinkable. Then pours it into a wine glass for Pegasus to have so finally when he comes asking for it he’ll get something. Close enough to what he wants. Pegasus also helped design the uniforms with Tau and Bakura.

Bakura and Thief king Bakura (Thief) Interaction in this au Thief is kinda bouncy like a little kid and Bakura can’t really stop him from bringing his own crayons and trying to draw on his menus. He made them all easy to clean now, even though saying that. Thief is a really good cleaner and perfect for when a health inspectors coming he’ll be able to make the place pass with flying colours. Sometimes he’ll just clean regardless. Other then that him and Bakura kinda ensure their separate. But at the same time they do share a few hobbies in which once they get started on they both look crazy insane people but there’s no stopping them from spending hours babbling on, most times Bakura tries to wait til works over and they do clean up together and talk the entire time

Bakura and Hiroto Interaction in this au Hiroto helped with the security cameras in the shop, and setting up some monitory screens in Bakura’s office. Sometimes they both grab a croissant or sometime and sit back there watching. Kinda of like a real tv show, and they joke and give personalities to different customers and backstories and such. And if anyone rubs them the wrong way, by either ‘abusing’ Bakura’s employees verbally or otherwise they’ll go out and scare the life out of them and usually bump fists in sweet victory afterwards. He’s also good muscle if they have a large shipment of food coming in

Bakura and Rishid Interaction in this au Bakura and Rishid actually have a surprising large amount of respect for one another despite all that's happened. Through Malik, Rishid knows to appreciate watching a person grow and change themselves for the better, he still knows Bakura isn’t perfect and he steals things on odd occasions or gets on the wrong side of the law. But he does respect how far he’s come in life. And his passion for his cafe. And Bakura respects Rishid’s strength that’s held him together all these years, through everything he’s never given up, and Bakura looks to that, because even if one person truly believes in you you can thrive. When he comes into the shop he orders the same thing every time and they barely speak but do often give a slight knowing head nod to one another and a smirk or smile

Bakura and Kieth Interaction in this au No offence but together these two can be terrible, when it comes to scamming these two joining forces. Whelp your screwed. They often either get into quiet deep discussions that concern anyone who over hear, they make owning a cafe sound evil. And whilst Bakura and Kieth get in heated arguments over Kieth trying to scam him. At the same time he’s more than happy to let the other help try scamming anyone else, such as electricity, any repair costs, together they can always get the best deal possible and save a lot of money. If Keith stays late at the cafe sometimes they go home and play poker together with a few others

Bakura and Anzu Interaction in this au She helps with serving occasionally, Bakura’s always amazed no matter how many times he sees it. How effortlessly she’s able to move around the room like the dancer she is. Never dropping a thing or spilling anything, sure occasionally when Yuugi and such came in she could be a little over the top but honestly he just found it amusing and after a mini heart attack they did too. He could use a few less friendship speeches but all in all she’s very inclusive and will not hesitate to argue her point with him to protect her friends or stop him from trying to exclude himself from that category. He’s her friend whether he likes it or not

Bakura and Shizuka Interaction in this au Shizuka’s really good at making coffees too and can help if he’s really busy, but also she knows the best and cheapest places for the coffee beans to ensure quality and taste and happily shares her secrets about it with Bakura in return for some cooking lessons together. She loves the cafe because of the large open window, she loves looking out into life and Bakura doesn’t mind listening to her rambling on about what she’s seen recently and where she’s been as he works, truthfully as much as he enjoyed his shops music just listening to someone speak was a nice change of pace, and her chirpy output helps him stay on task and working

Bakura and Miho Interaction in this au Miho’s actually quiet determined, and is great at getting the word out about his cafe. Bakura’s not great with computers really so she basically made his website with Malik and Hiroto. The three of them helped set him up one and she’s also really popular online so saying this is my favourite cafe will get people from different parts of the world coming in. She’s a bit cheerful for his liking sometimes, but if anyone on the street says something bad about the cafe, he can trust her to change their mind or inform him so he can show them wrong. She also helps design the place for Valentines Day and helps judge designs for valentine day specials

Bakura and Mokuba Interaction in this au Mokuba whilst already having a job at Kaiba corp, he still finds it to be an important learning curve having another job. Like normal people whose older brothers have owned a million dollar company since they were a teen. So he’s actually a part time employee on the cash register, Bakura during Mokuba’s fluffy hair stages had a lot of fun in the beginning trying to figure out how to tie it back, pigtails it was still too fluffy, buns were too heavy on his head and fell out, he ended up plating the others hair. And Mokuba can help with any basic legal issues Bakura gets, they discuss them over coffee/hot chocolate and marshmallows

Bakura and Atemu Interaction in this au Like Yami they don’t speak a lot, they don’t overly talk about the past, but they sit at the window with their coffees and cakes when the suns setting sometimes and just sit there. Its surprisingly more peaceful then Bakura would often think in his own mind, and whilst Atemu almost has this urge to help people somewhat. He knows that there’s not really much he can do and Bakura doesn’t need fixing. Right now he’s doing well. And while they may never be friends or anything similar they can kinda just sit comfortably at each others sides now. And Atemu will often leave with a comment on Bakura’s food. Sometimes it’s just something nice and others its constructive criticism, either way Bakura doesn’t mind he almost always improves it by the next time he comes by anyway

Bakura and Rebecca Interaction in this au She may be young, but she’s still a genius. And goes to college already, so she often brings her study group into the cafe and they sit in the corner ordering cakes and drinks and usually when closing gets closer they order some to go and they take them home to have whilst studying. Sometimes if she comes alone and brings her teddy, he’ll set up a little thing for it too. A bit like that build a bear cafe in New York if that’s still going. He gives it an empty cup and puts her food on the table to share. She doesn’t have to ask but he can tell she’s pleased when he does it. Plus this look of disappointment always flashes on her face when he doesn’t

Bakura and Solomon -Grandpa Interaction in this au Solomon kinda reminds Bakura of a grandfather he never really had, and whilst the old man can be forgetful at times he often smirks at his adventurous stories he tells and the way he calls him grandson. And will always have a plate ready if he wanted to come visit for dinner, Bakura drives Solomon to his cafe for lunch sometimes and they just sit and chat its never serious sometimes he grins as Solomon tells him off for doing something stupid again like getting in trouble at the park and just sprinting off. And Bakura leaves him dinners in the fridge some times too just to ensure he’s eating properly

Bakura and Aigami Interaction in this au Aigami owns the fruit shop that Bakura orders from, so that’s their main interaction. But sometimes when making the order they get a little carried away chatting and have to make the order again. Aigami didn’t at first but eventually he started to bring the fruit himself when possible. And he’d come a little early so Bakura could give him some freshly baked goods in return and they’d ‘test’ the baked goods and put away the fruit whilst chatting

Bakura and Bonz Interaction in this au Whenever Bakura screws up on a pastry, cake or otherwise he’ll take a picture and text it to Bonz. Usually a few minutes later, he’ll have taken the image and drawn a face on it, creating a new zombie pastry. So Bakura takes more pictures of his new ‘zombified pastry’ and him, it supposedly ‘attacking’ him. And Bonz will edit those ones too. This only stops when one of them just can’t take it seriously any more and they usually both end up just laughing. However in saying that, if Bonz ever actually tried cooking something he managed to always make it was more horrific than anything Bakura had ever made, screw up or otherwise. Though, Bonz’s attempts were almost never edible but it was still fun to turn them into zombies too

Bakura and Amane Interaction in this au Amane doesn’t really come to the shop, not really. But sometimes he can feel her spirit around, through the wind and often leaves her a flower inside and the windows open, he writes to her often and burns the letters in his kitchen hoping to make the letter smell of the food he’d made that day, obviously she never responds to him but he’s certain she gets them. He writes one at least every month, if not more and he puts a lot of time and effort into it, updating her on the cafe and life and recipes and just things. Sometimes writing to her is actually when he gets some of his best idea for the cafe and he likes to think she’s trying to help him in her own way alongside his family and everyone he’s ever lost

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