#it took me 4 days to get a loan done with the bank because i sleep 8:30am-4:30pm and the bank closes at 6pm

[jinmukangwrites]

By the way when I say "businesses are hostile to people not available in mornings (ie people who sleep during am hours thanks to grave shift, or people who work mornings, etc)" I mean banks, doctor offices, DMVs, dentists, etc should be open to 9pm, not that Walmart should reopen to its pre-covid 24.7 hours hope this helps

[sageofmagic-squeaks]

Eh, Imma throw a vent here because I need to put it somewhere.

Speaking with my parents is like a gamble of 'will this conversation make me miss them' or 'will this conversation make me thankful I was paid by internet friends to move across the country' and OH BOY did a conversation the other day hit the latter. To the point where after the call was done, said internet friends who paid me to move across the country came out to CHECK ON ME. And I was caught off guard because 'oh actually this is how normal conversations go with my dad. Did it really sound that bad??'

The conversation itself was stupid. See, over the past MONTH I've been trying to move out of my flooded, uninhabitable apartment that was growing black mold. A pipe burst in January from our neighbor's unit and our first floor flooded and second floor started leaking. Since then I have had to balance driving between hotels and our apartment, fighting with said apartment over a new place to live because they needed us out permanently and they literally sold one place they offered us within the hour to someone else and then tried to offer us a place with a severe rat infestation, packing up the entire place, filing insurance claims, dealing with their unannounced maitanence visits, still working...it's a lot.

And on top of it all my dad kept. Texting. And emailing. Wanting me to do my taxes.

No acknlowledgement over my situation, just wanting me to stop everything and do taxes. I explained I no longer had computer access anymore and still got bothered over taxes. So now that I moved into a dry place in another city I called him to end this whole thing about taxes and instead got unrelated lectures on how I spend my money. According to him, I'm perfectly healthy and won't have health issues until I'm 60 so I should stop putting money in a health savings account and instead be applying every cent to paying off a bank loan he set up for me over 10 years ago for school. Thing is, I am paying that stupid loan. The interest is so high that it basically stagnanted at 10k for the past 4 years no matter how much of it I pay off. It's been an auto bill as far back as I can remember having my own bank account. And he was picking a fight over me dropping a few dollars of my paycheck into a health savings account for emergencies. There's barely enough in it to cover an ambulence if I needed one. And then he needled further implying that I am rich (HAH) and should pay off the 10k right then and there on the phone with him.

And again, I just had to pay to live in a hotel while still paying rent for a black mold apartment AND also rent for a new place we managed to sign the lease for in addition to paying movers and buying boxes and having to eat out instead of cook. My bank account is weeping and my roommates and I had to ask for help. But he mocked me saying I'm not poor and could pay it. I don't understand how serious it is. I gotta pay it.

Again like I don't already send a chunk of my paycheck towards the stupid loan already. Last time I paid off the OTHER bank loan he badgered me for I was barely scraping by because it took everything and he seems to think paying off bank and student loans is all that my work money should ever be used for.

Oh and also I found out I'm not getting mail regarding said loan because he set it up with all his information and won't let me change it to mine! Actually he's still upset that I changed the passwords for my bank account so he can't track my spending :) because who doesn't love buying a smoothie when hanging with friends and getting a call that night about wasting $8 that could've gone to stupid loans.

And people thought I was choosing to be depressed and negative on purpose back when I was in rp groups while living with my parents. Nope, I was just having my entire being micromanaged to every degree.

Anyways vent got away from me but like...I haven't lived with my parents in 6 years. I've had to work so hard to undo damage to have opinions of my own and interact with people normally and I can damn well manage my own money so calling my dad and having him blow off a major, stressful life event and demand I do what he says to pay off a loan that I'm already paying has been pissing me off.

Also no health issues my ass. I have adhd, cant stay awake and my spine is bent OVER 60 degrees. Not to mention the time I walked on a fractured leg for months because oh weh, medical bills expensive and how I'm still feeling that pain years later e_e

[accountingacademic]

New Year, Fresh Start

Daily Reflection Monday, 1 January, 2024

Things I'm Grateful For:

Having my ever-growing to-do list written down in my planner, so I don't have to forget those things I need to do.

Highlights:

Since I was up past midnight with friends, I made a final "fuck it, I'm staying up all night." After everyone logged off, I had a spurt of productivity and got a bunch of little odds and ends taken care of.

Even if it only really amounts to $1 per day, I enjoy the feeling like I'm setting myself up for success when I transfer some money into my investment account each month. Because January has 31 days, I transferred $31 this time. It's in a TFSA so I won't be taxed on what the money earns, and it's a zero-commission account, so everything that is put into that account will be mine when I withdraw it.

I didn't get everything on my to-do list done for the day, but I still managed to do quite a bit! I don't mind carrying over two tasks, especially when one of them is 90% done.

Challenges:

I couldn't get my money stuff taken care of when I first wanted to because my bank's online portal was down for maintenance. Bit of a nuisance, even though it's not really a huge deal--I don't have to deal with my money at 4:00am, it can wait until a more reasonable hour.

I accidentally ended up napping in the middle of the day. I laid down around 11:00am, and then dozed off and slept until about 2:30pm. So that took a chunk of time away from me that I could have used, but after an all-nighter, three and a half hours won't ruin everything.

Emotions:

I feel like an asshole, and a terrible friend. A friend of mine is going through a rough patch because a woman ran a red light the other day and fucked up his car. He's going through the process of trying to get proof for his insurance that he wasn't at fault, and trying to figure out what's going to happen to his car (he spent all his savings on it less than two months ago, and the odds are pretty much 50/50 that it could be written off). I fully understand that he needs to vent, but I just really don't like listening to that kind of thing. I want to just go and tune him out so it feels like a win-win (he gets to vent, I don't have to actually listen), but that also feels like a terrible thing to do.

The shoes I ordered with my Christmas money are supposed to be here tomorrow, according to FedEx. It's hard to say how accurate that is though, as it's been "we have your package" since the 28th, with the order itself placed on the 25th. If it's not in tomorrow, Wednesday would also work. I just want them in before I go back to school on Thursday.

Lessons Learned:

For all that my friends are usually there for me when I need it (even though I will rarely ask for help), I'm not great at doing the same for them. I think that's part of why I don't ask for help; I don't want to be one of those people who ask for help all the time but never offer anything in return. I want it to be fairly balanced, and unfortunately, holding back on my end is how I can help keep it that way.

Today's To-Do List:

Completed

Readjust the cat feeder to dispense at night.

Reorganize phone apps.

Find new wallpapers for my phone and laptop.

Divide my second student loan disbursement into GICs.

Pay board.

Clean out my D&D binder and prepare for the new campaign.

Renew my FitBit Premium membership.

Add $31 to my investment account.

Give the cats baths.

Put together the grocery list.

Uncompleted

Clean out my school binder and prepare for the new semester.

Finish catching up on laundry.

Tomorrow's To-Do List:

Buy a mirror that hangs off the door for my bedroom.

Buy a notebook to start a commonplace book.

Get groceries.

Nana's housework.

[ledenews]

He’s Running for Congress and Yes, He Believes in Bigfoot

Yes, it’s true. The headline does not lie. He was driving his semi-tractor trailer heading east on Interstate 80 in Clearfield County, Pa. At about 2:30 a.m. back in the Summer of 1988, there it was, Bigfoot, THE legendary cryptid that’s teased mankind with its alleged existence for more than a century. That’s exactly the tale told – and repeated when necessary – by Rj Smith, a resident of Dallas, W.Va., who has declared his candidacy as a Republican for the Second Congressional District seat in the U.S. House of Representatives. Smith, a retired over-the-road truck driver who also worked in local coal mines, was on the primary ballot in 2012 for the District 4 seat in the state’s House of Delegates in District 4. “I’m running now for the same reasons why I ran back then, and that’s to tell the voters exactly what they need to hear,” Smith said. “Nothing is getting done in Washington, D.C., because everything has to be a show these days, and that’s not good for anyone. “And why would I tell anyone about seeing Bigfoot if I didn’t see what I saw? I’m sure a lot of people think I’m crazy so what good am I doing for myself?,” he asked. “It’s what I saw, though.” The city of Clearfield is 122 miles east of Pittsburgh. Pennsylvania’s Clearfield County and Rockton Mountain have been the locations of more than 40 Bigfoot sightings since 1971, according to the county’s Facebook page, and even the owner of the community’s Over the Mountain Restaurant refers to the eatery as the “Bigfoot Headquarters”. “It was 2:30 a.m. and I was driving a semi-tractor trailer and I saw this thing step onto the median out of nowhere,” Smith said. “I had my bright lights on because there was no one around and I was seeing deer along the side of the road. The first thing I thought was that I was seeing a bear along the interstate, but then that thing took three steps across the interstate and right then I knew it was not a bear. “It turned a little toward me and my truck, and that was it,” he recalled. “I saw it go over the bank and then up a hill. And it was on two legs. This all took place in about seven seconds so there was really no time to see its face or anything like that. But I saw what I saw and the only thing I believe it could have been was a Bigfoot sighting.” His message to the doubters in the crowd? “There are a lot of people who believe in Bigfoot. You cannot tell thousands and thousands of people they’re wrong when there are thousands of people who have seen what I’ve seen,” Smith said. “Plus, there are records of incidents involved with shooting and discoveries of skeletons that have been enormous. “There’s a lot history – real history – about Bigfoot, and every nation has a name for him,” he said. “And that’s because people like me swear by their stories. Again, think about it … seriously, why would I lie? So, people can have a chance to call me nuts? No. It’s because I know what I saw.” This is the most famous photo ever released of what many believe to be "Sasquatch." Bigfoot Fun Park? Yes, the park exists in Branson, Mo., and that’s because Bigfoot is pretty darn famous. There was a sighting reported in New Jersey just four days ago, and there were similar reports registered in Mississippi, too. In fact, authorities on all levels have received more than 10,000 sighting claims in the continental United States in the last 50 years. That’s why there’s a Bigfoot beer and a Bigfoot Trail, and customers can order Bigfoot hot dogs on 3rd Street in New Martinsville. There’s a Bigfoot Festival in Forest County, Pa., a California loan company called Bigfoot Capital, and “Bigfoot,” a TV movie from 2012. A reality show called “Finding Bigfoot” is in its 13th season, and let’s not forget the early-90’s sitcom “Harry and the Hendersons.” So, yes, the intrigue in the search for Sasquatch has long been high in the U.S., and Smith knows why. Many sketches have been created of Bigfoot after eyewitness account across the continental United States. “When it took those steps across the interstate, it appeared to me to be gliding,” Smith remembered. “His feet were covered with fur and his head didn’t bob up and down like a human does when we walk. It was very smooth movements the thing made across that interstate. And it took very long steps. “Could it have been a bear? If so, it was a very different bear than what we have here,” the conservative said. “People think you’re nuts when I tell them this story. If anyone can tell me what it was and prove to me what I believe it was, then OK. But until then? I believe I saw Big Foot, Sasquatch, whatever you want to call it.” Yes, Smith has answered all of the questions. “Over and over, actually,” he said. No, he wasn’t inebriated in anyway. “I was driving my truck so, no, that never happened during my career,” he insisted. And yes, he was wearing his glasses. “Always,” Smith said quickly. “I have 20-20 vision when I wear them, so they are always on my face. Without them, I’m like 20/100. Let’s just say, not good. “OK, sooo ... anything else?” the candidate asked sarcastically. “If not, go vote for Rj Smith.” The number of sightings in the Clearfield County area Read the full article

[maskedtruths666]

This is a fictional story. None of it is true. Pics submitted by a fan of my works. Names were submitted by fan as well. Theme was proposed by user too! Pure coincidence if it’s real.

This is the story of how Sandra goes all in on her business and will stop at nothing to see it succeed.

Sandra, an aspiring restauranteur, has finally saved up enough money to open her own restaurant. The journey to being able to realize her dream was not an easy one especially with the COVID pandemic going on. Sandra together with her boyfriend of 6 years managed to work and save up a total of $100,000 in the span of 5 years and managed to secure a loan of $100,000 from friends and family members.

They both planned for months before deciding on the location and menu and when they finally launched, they were both over the moon. Everything they calculated and planned for was spot on. They even managed to get discounts off certain stuff like renovations.

Business was booming for the first few months and they were on track to being able to pay off their loan for, friends and family members but disaster struck.

One fateful day, a fire broke out at their shop location. Thankfully they managed to claim most of it back through insurance but repairs were going to take 4 months at the least. This would severely hinder their ability to pay everyone back. In a desperate attempt to ensure the repairs could be done faster, she took another loan to hire another company to shorten the duration of repair works by more than half.

However, even then, all the running costs of the business when they’re out of commission is causing a lot of financial damage to Sandra, but she was determined to see it through. She went to the bank to take a loan but was rejected. As a final desperate attempt, she loaned money from a less than reputable money lending service.

Not wanting to tell her boyfriend, Sandra tried her best to promote her business and keep it afloat just to pay off the loans because the interest rate was just too high. Eventually, she could not meet the payment and her creditors came knocking on her door.

“Ms Sandra, you’ve been unable to pay us off for the past 2 months. I’ve been more than kind to stop charging interest because you’re a sweet looking girl and you’ve been on time with your payments. However, this is unacceptable. I’m gonna need you to put something up for collateral. Perhaps your watches? Or maybe some jewelry. That works fine as well.” James said to her.

“Sorry James, I appreciate all that you’ve done for me and I understand I’m putting you in a tight spot.” Sandra said apologetically.

“You understand that I don’t want to do this right? My boss, Matthew is the one that’s calling the shots. If I could, I would close one eye and let you pay us back. But 2 months is a long time. How much can you cough up?” James asked.

“Right now, I can only come up with $2,000 but my jewelry and watches are gifts from my boyfriend’s family. I cannot put them up for collateral because he doesn’t know I borrowed money from you guys.” Sandra said.

“Well, we’ll need to come to another arrangement if you can’t pay back two months of loans. What are you willing to do?” James asked.

“I don’t know, please give me more time. I promise I’ll pay you next month. It’s been a bad month for business with the restrictions. Please hold out for me?” Sandra asked, puppy eyeing James.

“Well, that can be done. But I want you to get on your knees and suck me off.” James said, smirking.

“Whaaaaat. No I won’t. I have a boyfriend.” Sandra said, horrified.

“Well, if you don’t do it, I’m going to have to start charging interest and that will amount to $1,000 more and we’ll draft out a lawyer’s letter to seize assets.” James said firmly, knowing that Sandra will cave in.

“Please, don’t do this to me” Sandra pleaded.

“You help me, I’ll help you. I’ll even send some customers to your restaurant to help boost business.” James replied.

Realizing that she has no choice, she knelt down and unzipped his pants. Out popped his modest sized dick and she began working her magic. She started slow, licking it and stoking it.

“You really know how to work that tongue. Your bf must be a lucky man.” James said as he moaned in pleasure.

Looking up at James, she said as she began sucking more viciously, knowing that James is enjoying it, “Will you help me write off 1 month’s worth of payment if I suck your dick every day for the next week?”

“Tempting offer. Best I can do is reduce your loan amount by 3 weeks.” James said.

“How about I let you take a video of me? For your own viewing pleasure. But you reduce my loan by 6 weeks.” Sandra counter proposed.

“Let’s see. Suck me off for a week first and I’ll reduce it by 3 weeks as promised then we’ll decide.” James said.

“Good enough for me.” Sandra said as she continued sucking James off like her life depended on it. As James was about to reach his climax, Sandra knelt down and showed off her small perky tits to allow James to cum on it.

Within seconds, James jerked himself off to finish on Sandra. “Ugh, that was good. You are good at this. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll text you when I’m nearby.” James said.

“That is a huge load, omg. Please don’t ruin my face or attire tomorrow. I don’t want anyone finding out.” Sandra said.

“Of course, your secret is mine to keep.” James said with a wink.

Part 2 coming up!

[escapewithbts]

Charity Case - Yoongi

Not super edited, not sure if I love it, blah blah blah, please still enjoy...

I’ve been in such a Yoongi mood lately 😇

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

You stared at your bank statement, or more specifically, your savings account. You had saved up a decent amount of money, that was for sure, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to kickstart your dream.

It all happened a few days ago on a Tuesday afternoon. You had just finished lunch with a friend who was from your home country. The two of you had found a restaurant specializing in the traditional food from there since you both were craving a taste of home. On your walk back to your apartment, you noticed the road you usually took was blocked off with construction (typical for the summertime in Seoul you were learning), so ultimately you had to take a detour, pulling out your Maps app. Although you lived in Hongdae, you really only took the same few roads daily. Therefore, you still did not quite know your way around.

The new directions had you weave down a side street, one you had never been on before. To your surprise, it was full of restaurants, shops, and cafes, and since Hongdae was known for homing many foreigners within the city of Seoul, many of them featured things you were very familiar with from back home.

Strolling down the block you made mental notes of places you wanted to try, places that were bustling with people, figuring they must be good if that’s the case.

All of a sudden, between an American grocery store and floral shop, you noticed a beautiful empty store front. You peered in the large windows and was met with a decent sized space, white walls, white tile floors, a lot of natural lighting. It was perfect. In the corner of the same window there was a sign that read “FOR LEASE” with the name of the agent and a phone number.

You took a picture of said sign before stuffing your phone back in your pocket. There was no harm in calling, right? Even just getting a feel for the space was harmless…right?

For ever since coming to Seoul from abroad, it was your dream to open your own bakery. To make desserts and breads and pastries fresh daily for the Seoulites to try and the foreigners to feel nostalgic for their home countries. You were currently working a boring office job as a translator, saving for the moment you could follow your true dream.

And maybe this was a sign… this was it.

 So, you did call. You did get a feel for the space. And it was perfect. Turns out it had been a pizza shop that went under, (too much competition) so there were already ovens and freezers and refrigeration, all in great working condition. The agent informed you the floor could be ripped up and replaced, there were already light fixtures attached in the ceiling that could connect to chandeliers and you were already picturing plants hanging from macrame in front of the large windows.

But there was just one problem.

As you stared at your savings account and compared it to the down payment in the brochure the realtor had given you… they didn’t match. You were short about 1/3 of the cost, especially since there was still some work to be done inside to really make it your own.

You heart sunk. You mentally scolded yourself for getting your hopes up. It was in such a prime location; how could you have been so stupid to think it was in your price range!

Suddenly, instead of staring at your lack of funds, you were staring at your face in your phone’s front camera as you received a FaceTime call request. ‘Yoongi’ was the name at the top of the phone screen, accompanied by your favorite picture you had taken of him candidly making a gummy smile caused by a joke you had told. Right on time for the daily call you two always had.

You sighed. Did you really want to speak to him right now? You were great friends, you had (stupidly) told him about the place and he had been so incredibly excited for you. He was so supportive and encouraging… it was incredibly endearing. Reminding yourself of that you pressed the green accept button.

Immediately you were met with the handsome face and bleach blonde hair of Min Yoongi. He was resting his head back on his black leather sofa, his narrow eyes meeting yours between screens.

“Hi Yoongi-ah,” you gave him a small smile.

“Hey (y/n).” he responded, returning the smile.

You stood up and walked over to the couch in your small apartment, sitting down and curling your legs underneath you.

“What are you up to?” you asked.

He reached towards the screen and flipped it, so it was now looking forward. An NBA basketball game was playing on the large tv in his living room.

“Watching the game. It’s game 4 of the finals so if Pheonix wins this one they only have one more game to win before they win it all.”

He returned the screen to face him.

“Oh, that’s cool,” you replied, “Did you have a lot on your work schedule today?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“It wasn’t too bad. Practiced PTD for a Japanese tv performance we have coming up. Worked on some music between rehearsals,” he shrugged, “the usual.”  

You nodded.

“You?” he questioned, “how was your day?”

You looked down at the couch cushions and fiddled with the blanket that laid beside you. You bit your lip before responding.

“Fine. It was fine. I, uh, I had that appointment. With the agent in charge of that space I was interested in?”

Yoongi’s eyes got wide, and he perked his head up.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. How was it? Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

A small grin appeared on your face remembering how picturesque it had been.

“It was even better than I thought it would be, Yoongs,” you told him.

He smiled wide.

“That’s incredible! So wh-what now? Did you put down the money for it? Or did you need me to come with you to look at it again, see if there’s anything that needs fixing that I can do??”

You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head. He was so sweet, and it broke your heart even more.

“Thank you, Yoongi, for offering, but that… won’t be necessary.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, expecting his next question to make you feel uneasy.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? Why not? I really don’t mind.”

You sighed, suddenly incredibly embarrassed to be admitting this to your friend.

“I just saw the statement of my bank account and, well, I don’t… I can’t afford the down payment. I don’t have enough saved up yet.”

You couldn’t help but look down in shame. Yoongi never talked about his money or how much he made being in BTS, but you weren’t stupid. He worked incredibly hard for everything he and his fellow members have achieved and you were nothing but proud of him. He deserved it all, even the unassumingly large income he was bringing in. He would never, ever flaunt it or make you feel inferior to him because of it, but you still felt slightly inefficient in your confession.

Yoongi’s face softened.

“Oh… I’m-I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You shrugged and gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s alright. It just means it wasn’t meant to be, that’s all.”

He gave you a sympathetic frown.

“But you said it was perfect.” He reminded you.

You placed your fingers to the bridge of your nose.

“Because it is, Yoongi-ah. It’s bright and cozy and practically ready. Not to mention it’s an incredible location,” you rolled your eyes at yourself, “I really should have known it would be too much.”

“How much is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You looked away again and scrunched your nose, before telling him the exact amount required to put down in order for the space to be yours.

His mouth formed into that straight line he was known for when he was neither happy nor displeased by something.

“Could you get a loan? Like from a bank?”

You shook your head.

“I already looked into it,” you informed him, “it’s weird because my bank is home, but I’m abroad so there would be a lot of hoops to jump through and the chances of being approved are slim to none. Basically, it’s not worth putting a mark on my credit for.”

He nodded in understanding, looking away for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together in thought, and as much as you appreciated him trying to help you, you had already thought of all the possible solutions, and you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s okay, Yoongs, really, I’ll find someplace else.” You smiled reassuringly at him.

He looked back at you and hummed in agreement before you began talking about something else.

 -

The next day you had barely stepped out of your office building after a long day at work when your phone’s text message notification sound went off.

5:49pm from Yoongi: Are you off work yet?

5:49pm to Yoongi: Leaving now. What’s up?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Can you meet me here at the HYBE building ASAP?

You furrowed your eyebrows.

5:50pm to Yoongi: Sure. Is everything okay?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Yeah, everything is fine

5:51pm from Yoongi: Come to the Forum at the top floor when you get here, okay? I already told the front desk you’re coming

5:51pm to Yoongi: You’re being weird but okay

5:51pm from Yoongi: Don’t worry so much you pabo, it’s nothing bad

You rolled your eyes and locked your phone before hailing a taxi.

 The ride to Yoongi’s work was longer than usual because of traffic, but eventually you made it, giving a wad of cash to the driver and stepping out of the cab. The tall, reflective HYBE building intimidated you a little bit, like you were going to get in trouble just for stepping foot on its grounds, but you confidently passed the transparent sign that read “HYBE We Believe in Music” and opened the doors to the main entrance. A woman at the front desk greeted you and asked to see your ID when you told her you were here to see Min Yoongi. When she confirmed your identity, she gestured toward the elevators.

 “Yes, you may proceed to the Forum on the 19th floor, he is waiting near the café there.”

You nodded and thanked her before letting the elevator doors close in front of you.

The aroma of coffee wafted into your nose immediately upon stepping out of the elevators. It smelled heavenly. You walked past many groups of HYBE businessmen and women taking breaks or in small meetings before finally spotting Yoongi at a table in the corner near the large windows. He was fixated on his phone, an iced Americano on the table in front of him, and another iced drink sitting across. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him in person as his schedule was usually jam packed, but upon seeing him now your heart skipped a beat and a wide smile formed on your lips. You hadn’t seen his newly bleached hair in person yet and he looked even more handsome than you imagined. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight. It was good to see him again. You missed him.

 “Hi,” you said, pulling out the chair and sitting down across from him, “the building is incredible.”

He glanced up at you and nodded in agreement.

 “It’s nice. They did a great job. I don’t mind coming to work as much now.” He chuckled to himself, and you rolled your eyes.

He pointed to the beverage in front of you.

 “The drinks are good, too, I got your favorite.”

You smiled at him and took a sip. He was right, it was delicious.

 “Thanks, Yoongs.”

He stared at you for a moment, a grin forming on his face. Your face felt hot, and you had to look away.

“Sooo… why did you need me here so urgently?” you quickly wondered.

“Urgently?” he retaliated, “it sure took you long enough.”

Oh, how you loved his bluntness.

You scoffed.

“Well, excuuuuse me, Mr. Min, normal people go home from work around this time, so traffic was absolutely horrendous! Could you have picked any other time of day?”

He smiled and looked down at his hands while shaking his head.

“This was literally the only open slot I had today, sorry,” he glanced at the time on his phone, “and I’m already almost out of time as it is.”

You waved your hands, urging him on.

“Well then, what is it that it couldn’t wait?”

He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Aiisshh okay, please don’t be mad.”

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your head.

“Mad? What? What is it, Min Suga?”

He took a deep breath and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper. Then he unfolded it carefully and placed it in the middle of the table facing you.

To your shock, it was a personal check. From Yoongi’s bank account. Written for the exact amount you had told him last night of the down payment for the perfect shop you couldn’t afford.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes left the rectangular paper to look into his. They were a little weary, maybe, but hopeful.

“Yoongi…” you started.

He held up his hand.

“Please. Just take it, (y/n).”

Your heart was pounding. There in front of you was the exact amount you needed to start your dream. Your very own bakery. And combined with the amount you had in your savings you could even add some extra touches!

But… you couldn’t do it. You knew you couldn’t. This was your dream, and even if that amount of money was nothing to someone like Yoongi, you wanted to be the one to earn it, like he had earned all his successes.

“I-I… I can’t, Yoongi.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“(y/n) …”

“Thank you, Yoongi, truly, it means so much.”

He shook his head and motioned to the check.

“Then just take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“But you said so yourself that place is perfect! You were in love with it!”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. Did he have to keep reminding you how great it was?

“Yes. But I cannot afford it. There will be other places.”

“You can afford it if you take this. Please, (y/n), this won’t hurt me in anyway financially, I’m good. I want you to be, too.”

“I am good, Yoongi. I work hard and I’m saving. This place is just not it and I have to accept that. Maybe a time will come where I can afford someplace like it, and when it does it will be just as perfect.”

He rolled his eyes.

“How do you know you’ll find another place?? Jesus, you’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, (y/n).”

Your hands balled up into fists. Okay that was it. Calling you stubborn because you wanted to be self sufficient had made you hit your boiling point.

“I’m stubborn? How about I just don’t want to be your charity case, idol Min Yoongi, hmm?” you whispered harshly to him, “I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t want your help; I don’t need your help. I’m a fucking adult, too, you know, just because I don’t make millions doesn’t mean I can’t make smart financial decisions. God, do you think I’m just that pathetic?”

You got up to leave, so over this conversation.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut.

“What? Fuck, (y/n), no I don’t think you’re pathetic. If anything… I-I’m the pathetic one.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before marching back toward the elevators and hitting the down arrow button.

Yoongi followed.

“Do you know why?” he asked, jumping into the elevator with you before the doors could close.

It was just the two of you as it began its long descent down 19 floors.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why what? Why you’re pathetic?” you snorted, “Because you just offered your friend an obscene amount of money for something you have no part in?”

He looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

Finally, he peered back up at you and his dark brown eyes met yours.

“Well, that, and because,” he paused, shuffling nervously on his feet, “because I’m having a really hard time telling that same friend how I truly feel about her.”

Your heart stopped and your mouth fell open again, in a different kind of shock.

“What?” you said softly.

“Fuck, I love you, (y/n)!” the pale skin of his face turned a bright red, and he took his gaze away again, “Aiiisshh, I’m sorry, I’m just horrible at showing my emotions and telling people how I feel. I guess I was hoping offering you the money would help you understand but I didn’t even think how it would come off, I just wanted you to know that I support you and I want to be apart of your decisions in life as more than a friend and- “

You cut off his worrisome rant by flinging yourself towards him and kissing him hard. It was his turn to be shocked, but he instantly got the memo and pushed you back against the wall of the elevator in passion. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands grazing the bare skin of your lower back under your shirt. You gripped your hands in his blonde locks.

The elevator let out a ding signaling you had reached the first floor. You pulled away from each other, panting from the heat of the moment. You smiled.

“I love you, too, Yoongs. But I’m still not taking your money.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

Then you started to exit the elevator, but you felt him grab your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turned back toward him with confused eyes.

He grinned at you, his eyes suddenly full of lust.

“Do you maybe... want to see my new studio?”

*

Masterlist

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [2/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

Tom felt a knot loosen in his chest. Relief washed over him. Redd was awake and lucid, and feeling well enough to quip.

But then Redd kept talking.

“This is your bedroom?” Redd shifted, leaning his back against the mattress. He scanned the Spartan room, and his nose scrunched up in distaste. “It’s so....basic. Not your style at all.”

Tom hated the small speck of him that still yearned for Redd’s approval. He crossed his arms. “You’re hardly the expert on what I like.”

Tom’s words landed—he saw Redd wince—but the fox brushed it off, and changed tack.

“Where’d you sleep, then? Futon?”

“Couch.”

Redd patted the bed, and leered. “Could’ve shared with me. It’s plenty big enough. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Enough, Redd. You’re only here in my home because I possess common decency. Nothing more. As soon as your arm is healed, you’re gone.”

Redd clutched at his chest with his good arm, in mock agony.

“Oh babe, you can be so cold!”

Tom ignored him. “What possessed you to attempt to sail a ship, of all things? You don’t have any experience.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was simple enough to figure out.”

“Obviously it wasn’t.”

“Hey, the storm wasn’t my fault.”

“You could have died—and for what? Another stupid scheme of yours, no doubt.”

“I resent that remark. Scheme! Scheme, he says. I’m out here because I’ve developed a new business venture. The art on my boat is real.” Brief alarm skirted across his face. “Wait, what happened to my things?”

“They’re in Blathers’ custody.”

“That featherbrain can’t keep them. They’re real, you know. I had this whole plan. I was going to go island to island. Animals are so suspicious these days. They actually want to inspect the merchandise before they buy, can you believe it?”

“I don’t want to hear about this.”

Redd plowed on, as if Tom hadn’t spoken. “—and once they placed an order, I’d say oh, you can’t take it right away. I have to ship it to you.”

“And you’d mail them a fake.”

“I’d mail them a replica. The copies that I paint myself are flawless,” Redd bragged. Greed and delight glinted in his eyes. “You’d never be able to tell the difference. I’ll wager you 5,000 bells your pal Blathers wouldn’t, either.”

“I can’t believe you,” Tom snapped. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Why tamper with perfection?”

“You—ugh!”

Tom stomped out of the room.

Timmy and Tommy were right outside, evidently listening in. They jumped guiltily as Tom caught sight of them, and tried to look busy; Tommy folded a blanket and draped it over the back of the couch, as Timmy collected up used cups to put in the kitchen sink.

“I’m going out for a bit.” Tom told them, as he pulled on a jacket. “Stay here, and make sure he does too.”

The Nooklings chirped an affirmative.

May was cold and rainy this year, and today proved no different. Tom zipped up his jacket to ward off the worst of the chill. It was misting out, but not badly enough to justify an umbrella.

Tom didn’t have a destination in mind, exactly. He wasn’t going to Resident Services today. Isabelle was certainly capable of taking the reins for a day or two. Tom just needed fresh air, just needed to clear his head.

Redd hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t grown, he hadn’t learned anything. He was still the same as he ever was—greedy, selfish, conniving. And utterly, absolutely, insufferable.

There had been moments, before, when he had lived on the mainland, when Redd frequented his town. He’d considered reaching out. But he’d never scraped up the nerve to do so. It wasn’t his responsibility either, he’d reasoned at the time. Tom was the wronged party. Redd should have been the one to approach, not him.

And now the decade-long silence between them was shattered at last, and Redd acted as if there had never been a massive fracture in their relationship, as if nothing at all had changed. No apologies, no remorse, not even a thank you for the rescue.  

“Mr. Nook!” Flurry trotted up to him. “I’ve heard the news. How is your friend doing today?”

He supposed there was no hope of keeping it quiet. Any speck of news spread through Bastion like wildfire. Isabelle, bless her heart, was an incorrigible gossip.

“Redd is doing much better today, thank you.”

“I wanted you to give him something from me. Just to borrow, powderpuff!” She took out a book from her pockets and handed it over. It was an old leather-bound book, a collection of fairy tales. It was worn with age, but evidently well cared for. “I don’t know if it’s to his taste or not, but I always read it when I’m sick and it cheers me right up!”

“Thank you, Flurry. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Redd wouldn’t, but Tom would never let the sweet hamster know that.

He continued his walk, and soon found himself on the beach. He followed the shoreline around the island until he reached the outcropping of rocks by Del’s and Lucha’s houses.

Tom knew what to expect, but the sight was still jarring. The hull of the boat was gouged on the rocks. Half of the vessel gaped open. The mast was snapped off at its base, and the sail, long lost to the tides. Tom stepped on the rocks to get a closer look. The remains of the boat had been secured to the rock by rope; Alex and the others, presumably, had been the ones to anchor it.

Tom peered inside the exposed hull. The boat was tilted at an angle. Barrels had rolled to one end of the ship. Several had smashed apart in the impact. Tom winced. How badly had Redd been thrown in the crash? Had he been above deck, or below?

There didn’t appear to be anything of value left inside the ship. The villagers had done well removing all the fragile artwork.

Enough of the boat remained that they wouldn’t have to build Redd a new boat from scratch, at least. The boat would have to be patched up for Redd to travel. The seaplanes weren’t built to transport someone from Bastion all the way out to the mainland.

Tom swept a critical eye over to the wreckage. Yes, they could rebuild it in several weeks, once the necessary supplies were gathered. He resolved to speak with Alex about it. If she could gather the needed materials, he’d reduce the price for her attic expansion as compensation.

He returned home with the intention to cook breakfast for the Nooklings and their guest. But as he removed his shoes in the entryway, he overheard Redd’s drawling voice. And the twins were conspicuously absent from the living room. He padded quietly over to the threshold of his bedroom.

The first thing Tom noticed was that Redd was now wearing one of his spare shirts. The floral patterned green and white flattered the fox’s fur. It was a size or two too large on him, and not his usual type of outfit. Something warm and possessive tightened in his stomach at the sight of Redd wearing his clothes.

Redd was back in bed, propped upright with the support of pillows. Timmy and Tommy were sitting on the bed as well, listening raptly to their guest. Redd was in his element as entertainer, gesturing enthusiastically with his unbroken arm as he spoke.

“...it was our third pitch of the day. Tom had persuaded me to paint wallpapers for high-end clientele, so the meeting was at this real swanky place. Very stylized lobby we waited in, minimalistic in style but in an expensive way, you know? Your Uncle Nook was sweating so much his fur looked a shade darker than normal. We were sitting there, waiting for half an hour after our appointed meeting time. And finally, finally, someone shows up. It wasn’t even the investor! It was some scrub, some assistant of an assistant. Tom was so nervous, he promptly bent over and spewed his lunch all over her expensive shoes.” Redd laughed.

Tom flushed. It hadn’t been his finest moment.

“But then, do you know what your uncle did?” Redd whispered, conspiratorially.

“What, Mr. Redd?”

“...Redd?”

The boys leaned in closer, eager not to miss a single syllable.

“Tom still managed to salvage the situation. He went right from wiping off her shoes to pitching her a new concept—scented wallpaper. Smells like lemon, pine. So if something like this happened again, at least no one would smell it!”

“Wow! Did they invest?”

“...vest?”

“Even better—they bought the concept and patent from us. All the reward, with none of the work!”

“Boys, wash up for breakfast.” Tom broke in.

The twins broke into beaming smiles at the sight of him. They sprang off the bed to crowd Tom, both talking a mile a minute.

“Uncle Nook, is it true that you won a manufacturing contract by arm wrestling the CEO of Cozy Couches?”

“—did you really start a new city fashion trend wearing your scarf as a belt?”

“—have three drinks named after you?”

“Redd likes to embellish.” Tom explained, exasperated. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Redd pouted.

Once the boys reluctantly filed out of the room, Tom shut the door. He crossed over to Redd and offered him the book of fairytales.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Redd inspected the book. He grimaced at the faint mug stain on one of the pages. “Not a first edition. Far from excellent condition. You  really  shouldn’t have.”

Tom grit his teeth. “It’s not from me. A villager has loaned it to you. If it goes back to her with so much as a dog-eared page…”

“Alright, sheesh. Just messing around.” Redd set the book on the bedside table, evidently uninterested.

“Listen to me, Redd.” Redd looked up in surprise at Tom’s low, serious tone. “You cheated me. You deceived Lyle. But if you think—”

“Hey, Lyle wasn’t—”

“If you think,” Tom spoke over him. “For one second, that I’ll allow you to manipulate Timmy and Tommy, you’ve got another thing coming. I have resources now. More bells in the bank than you’ll ever see. If you ever hurt them, I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear?”

The boys were guileless, innocent. He would not stand for Redd swindling them.

Redd deflated, his previous energy visibly dimmed. His ears flattened back on his head. He looked away from Tom, and nodded.

~*~

“Where are we going?”

“Like I told you the last twelve times you asked, it’s a surprise.”

“I’m going to trip on the sidewalk and break my nose.” Tom grumbled.

“You won’t.” Redd promised, with a rumbling laugh. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It had been six months since their first meeting, in that sketchy motel. Ever since, they’d hardly left each others’ company. Tom’s ambition was to build a furniture and home goods store. It would be unique in its approach, in that stock would be limited, and rotate daily, so animals would feel compelled to go to the store every day, just in case there was something they needed. Redd, an entrepreneur himself, was on board. But before they could begin such an enterprise, they needed bells, and loads of them. They’d taken the past half a year to build up their finances together. They’d done so not through conventional jobs, but through countless pitch meetings, patent sales, and even art commissions. They’d amassed enough now that their dream was looking more achievable by the day.

Tonight Redd had tied a black bandana around Tom’s eyes and led him from their apartment. Tom’s heart was doing somersaults in his chest throughout their entire walk. Redd had been furtive, secretive the entire past week. He’d been planning something, and Tom had a big hunch on what it could be.

“We’re here.” Redd announced, at long last. He unknotted the bandana. The cloth fell away from Tom’s eyes, and he gasped.

It was an older two-story building, wedged in between a pair of larger, newer ones. It was built of ruddy red brick, with floor to ceiling windows for display purposes. Tom glanced around. They were in a nicer part of town. Not the wealthiest neighborhood by any means, but one fairly busy, that had animals with bells burning holes in their pockets.

“It’s ours.” Redd withdrew a keyring from his pocket. “If you like it.”

“You—how?”

Redd winked. “I have my ways.” He held out the keys and gave them a shake. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

Tom took the keys with reverence. He felt as if he were drifting through the clouds as he glided to the door. The front door key was newly cut, firm in his palm. Tom unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

“The register could go here.” Tom circled around the corner of the back wall, nearest the door. He paced around the cavernous empty room, imagining as he went. “Heavier furniture in the back as well. Some eye-catching, lighter things near the front that can be rotated daily. Things like wreaths, tapestries—oh, and what if we hang strings of lights from the ceiling? It’d create a real welcoming, homey look.”

He turned back to Redd for his input. His face was flushed with enthusiasm.

Redd had been watching him from the doorway with a complicated, unreadable expression.

Tom’s grin faltered. “Redd?”

The strange look fell away from Redd’s face, replaced by his customary smirk. He sauntered closer.

“Your instincts are excellent as always, Tom. I was thinking of a mural, too, for the back wall.”

“Oh, that’d be great! What are you thinking? A city skyline? Or something more nature-inspired?”

Redd’s arm slid around Tom’s waist with easy familiarity. His paw squeezed Tom’s side. Tom barely muffled his squeak. They’d been together for five months of the six, and Redd’s casual displays of affection still flustered him. Back home, no one had ever looked twice at the plain, chubby raccoon.

Redd’s muzzle brushed his ear. “We can hash out the details later. This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”

~*~

The doorbell jingled overhead as Tom stepped inside the Able Sisters’ store. Sable took a single look at Tom before she was bustling him into the back room of the shop.

“Keep an eye out for customers, Mabes.” She called over her shoulder.

Mabel mock-saluted her eldest sister.

“Sit.” Sable all but pushed him into a rocking chair. He remembered this old thing from the sisters’ first home. The quilt draped over the back of the chair was familiar too, if a bit more threadbare than he remembered. Tom was struck by a wave of gratefulness that all of his dearest friends had been so amenable to picking up their lives and moving to Bastion with him.

Sable placed a gray kettle on the stove, and retrieved two mugs from a cabinet. The mugs were lumpy things, rather sloppily painted. Mabel had made them by hand when she was young. Tom had his own original Mabel creation stored in a cabinet back at his home.

“I wanted to speak with you as soon as I heard, but I had too many shirts to sew, I couldn’t get away. I know that’s not much of an excuse, though.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m handling everything just fine.”

Sable raised one eyebrow.

“I am.” He insisted. Redd had been subdued after Tom had warned him off about the twins. He ate the food Tom cooked without complaint, allowed Tom to check his injured arm without any protest, save the quiet hisses of pain he couldn’t quiet. They’d lived together in uneasy harmony for a week, now. Redd spent most of the day in front of the TV, or idly flipping through the book Flurry had lent him.

“How have you been?”

“Fine. Redd hasn’t been putting up too much of a fuss.” She was staring at him, too keenly. “What?”

She took a moment to muster up the words, paws twisting in her lap. “Tom...I don’t want to see you like that again.”

Tom waved his hand, as if to banish the ghost of that awful moment. “You won’t. He can never hurt me again.”

Sable’s doubt was palpable.

“I don’t care about him anymore. I don’t. And I...I used to hate him, I admit it. I used to loathe him. But I’ve moved on. I don’t trust him, and I pity him, but I don’t feel anything strong for him, hate or love, anymore.”

“You don’t sound as convincing as you’d like to be.” Sable said.

He was saved from having to respond as the kettle whistled. Sable rose to fetch their tea. She added the sachets, a drizzle of honey to her cup, three lumps of sugar to Tom’s—after all this time, she hadn’t forgotten how he liked it—and carried the mugs over.

Tom held his mug between his paws, waiting for it to cool enough to be drinkable. The pleasant scent of Earl Grey wafted up to his nose. He inhaled.

“If Redd tries anything, I’ll punch him in the nose.”

Sable, gentle, demure Sable, spoke with such a steely assuredness that Tom started. She smiled shyly at him.

“I mean it.”

“You’ll have to get in line. I have first dibs.”

Sable giggled.

~*~

Tom headed back home, feeling lighter than he had since this entire thing started. He and Sable swiftly left the topic of Redd behind them, and spent the better part of an hour catching up.

The boys saw him through the front window of the Cranny, and waved enthusiastically. He returned the gesture, albeit with less energy.

Tom then climbed the stairs and let himself into his home. Redd was no longer where Tom had left him that morning, slouched on the couch. The TV was shut off, the house almost eerily silent.

“Redd?” Tom eased open the door to his bedroom. The fox was absent, but the bed was neatly made. He checked the twins’ room, the bathroom—both empty.

Redd was gone.

[prorevenge]

Depth form the grave, a story of money.

My grandma told me this story recently about how her brother got his ass kicked from the grave.

Sorry for the bad English, I do not write it very well and I have dislexia. So sorry if I butch the text.

So this is the scenario: My grandma comes from a family of 5, 4 girls, 1 boy.

My great-grandfather (Henk) was ecstatic with the boy, we will call him Jack.

One more important thing is that my great-grandfather ran a very successful company that made high-end clothing and bathroom silks/towels/bathrobes. He made a fortune with his company and made sure everyone who worked for the company got his fair share.

He also looked after the family, all his children got a education, all his children got the chance to get their driver's license. It was in the 1960s so it was a big deal back then, they were the first in my home time with a car, radio and tv.

My great-grandfather treated everyone equal , that changed when his first and only son was born, he already had 4 girls and now finally a son. The road map was laid out for him, he would be the heir to his company.

So began the upbringing of Jack, he was let's say a kid with a mouth. This wasn't bad perse, the thing was that his father allowed it. Jack got kicked from his first school, jack got caught for shoplifting, Jack got kicked from his second school, Jack got caught joyriding and so on and so on.

Henk did not sit Jack down and told him the severity of his actions but he would shrug it and tell his wife(great-grandmother) Anna that it were just childhood quirks. Anna tried to make something out of Jack but it was a lost cause.

Jack became 18 and Henk decided that it was the time too introduce him into the company, the company did better than ever and the whole family was involved.

Jack began at the bottom of the ladder and had to work his way up, this is were Jack began to "shine". With shine my grandmother meant that her brother was not a bright light at school but he was a hard worker and had a nose for business, not so much for people.

Jack was being a ass as per usual and got married to his first Karen, his first wife was a, Karen . She wanted to start her own company and her Father in law Henk wanted to retire. She pushed Jack to take over quickly and push the rest of the family out, Jack listent to her and talked to his father how he was ready and how his sisters and their husbands were tearing the company apart if they would stay in their leadership roles.

The thing was that only one daughter an son in law were involved in the company at this point(1980). My grandmother oversaw the seamstresses and the quality department , and my grandfather oversaw the financial and the supplier's. Karen wanted full control and started a little fire in the family, she spread a rumor that grandfather stole from the company.

I do not know what transpired but in the end my great-grandfather bought out all the family and Jack bought out great-grandfather. The company was Jack and Karen's company now and things went tits up pretty quickly. Seamstresses quited, bills were not paid and Jack had to take a loan from great-grandfather. The family company was barely scraping by and Karen left Jack because he could not provide for him. It became apparent that Jack could not make it work and was looking for a way out . After a while great-grandfather had seen enough and bought back the remnants of his company and sold it too a bigger company that wanted to expand. This made the wealth he amesed even bigger, he did set up different banking accounts for his children and said that if someone was in need they could take money form that account.

He told Jack his cut was smaller as he was the reason he sold the company and that he was let down by the carelessness his son had run his company into the ground. Jack was angry and told his father that he could had make it work if he had more time. It remained a sour point between the two of them

Things went well for a while but Jack married a second time with a women named Helen, Helen like Karen wanted her own business. Jack agreed and took money from the account in order to start Helens company. The business was a little barbershop and ran pretty well, they were spending their money on luxury and did not save anny money.

After a while my grandmother got a call from her little brother Jack if he could store some good in her garage. My grandfather did not trust Jack and told him No and grandmother did not agree but they agreed to it. A few weeks later Jack got caught for "possession of stolen goods and drugs smuggling". It was not a surprise but none the less a let down for my great-grandfather Henk, this time he would not help Jack and told him that he would no longer stand behind him.

After a few years Jack got out and was again a divorced men, he married again and divorce another 3 times and each time he gave these women a business and live lavishly, new cars, big House's, expensive vacations.

He drained his money and robbed his emergency bank account dry, he loaned a lot of money from great-grandfather and soo on.

In 2013 great-grandfather befell ill , it was clear that he was not gonna make it and took his final days in stride. At this time Jack became very buddy buddy and started to help great-grandfather sell some stuff, at some point my grandmother sat down with her father and asked him were the money went for the sold stuff and great-grandfather told her not to worry about it, he took care of it in his will.

After his 95 birthday he passed away quite and in peace.

After her funeral they all went too listen to the will of their father, all except Jack who had given a power of attorney to my grandmother to sign the will in his place. All the children get their fair share but at the end the notary public tells them to signe the papers and the inheritance is completely theirs.

At some point my grandma called my dad, she has inherited some collateral papers, all sorts of papers that stated that someone owned my great-grandfather money. My father said that she has to call a lawyers office to get the money from these papers.

A few days after this call to the lawyers office my grandmother gets a call from her brother, why was she taking his money from the inheritance. My grandmother tells him she has inherited some collateral papers and that she wants too get the money from them. Jack was furious and told her that that was illegal.

Jack was wrong, great-grandfather had documented every penny his son had loaned from him and constructed his will in such a way that the rest of his children could get that part of their money from there money drain of a brother. Also great-grandfather found out Jack stole from him. You see Jack was putting the money he made from the sold stuff on his own banking account instead of giving it to his Father.

After this ordeal Jack has not contacted my grandmother or his sisters, he has since then paid everything back and has never seen a penny from his inheritance. Great-grandfather has confided in a letter why he did this, he was done with his son, all the lying , the careless things he had done to his company, all the money he had blown and not taking any responsibility. He gave his final lesson to his son from the grave.

(source) story by (/u/IAmWeasel93)

[tundrainafrica]

Masterlist

This will serve as a personal tracker of all of the fics I have ever written, all of the books and series I have consumed etc. I wrote this out to help me organize my thoughts since I have time now to reflect on this closet hobby of mine. I also put it up just in case anyone has ever read my stuff and is curious about how these works are doing in my head space.

Some were written back when I was way younger so apologies for the quality.

ALEX RIDER

Come Home (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Memories don't keep people grounded in their present. They're the reason people think of what ifs and would haves, regrets and daydreams. Alex sees three dimensions of his reality and makes a decision. Set after Never Say Die.

Status: Done (I guess?), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Killing (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Spoilers for Never Say Die. Killing is like learning to ride a bike as Alex is going to figure out very soon. For Spyfest 2017.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Transparency (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Although the bank robbery made national news, the young boy who saved the lives of all the people in the bank didn't. First hand witness accounts said the boy was a hero, the media said there was no young hero in the bank and one journalist tries to get to the bottom of it all.

Status:WIP (could probably still finish it, it’s almost done anyway), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet)

Type II Error (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for Spyfest Week 3. Set before Ark Angel. The updates on payroll accounts and budgets lined up too well with mysterious deaths and undisclosed missions. An auditor working for MI6 decides for herself whether or not the orders of her bosses Blunt and Jones were worth prying into.

Status: Done (Oneshot), will post on tumblr yet

Unforeseen Circumstances (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It's April, the time of year when most students start salvaging their grades. Missions had taken their toll on Alex's grades and he needs to start salvaging soon or risk repeating the year. Nature wasn't on his side though and it turned out that his devil's luck had just run out.

Status: WIP (8/15), On hold, not posted on tumblr yet

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi and Hange’s Relationship in Erwin’s POV (Status: Completed, not posted yet)

A Tale of Two Slaves (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Status: WIP (6/?)

A Free Spot (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later. Written for Levihan Angstober Week 4. Prompt: Free Spot 

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Division of Labor (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly..."

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Status: WIP (1/?)

En Prise (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Status: WIP (1/18), will try to create a backlog before I post more.

Heroes or Victims (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post Chapter 115, Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Household Planning (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Status: Done (2/2)

Passion Project (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)    

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Status: WIP (1/3) Timeline written, Chapter 2 rough draft complete, not posted on FFN yet

Rough Day (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It should have been apparent to Hange by the weight gain and the sudden lack of red days. Somehow, Levi noticed it first.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Sugar Rush

(AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest one year late.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Would You Cry? (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams

Status: Done (Oneshot)

Vulnerabilities (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Although Levi is humanity's strongest soldier in the battlefield, his rough childhood had left him weaker and more vulnerable to illness. Levi had always taken measures to prevent sickness nit anyone who has ever been close to him caught wind on it anyway. A series of oneshots throughout the story focusing on Levi's chronic weakness and others taking care of him.

Status: Sporadic updates depending on mood, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Big Hero Six

Deal with the Devil  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

When mourning becomes too much for him, Hiro finds himself resorting to prayers and deals to bring back the brother he lost. The devil may have had pity on him but he never promised to let Hiro go unscathed.

Status: WIP, on hold, probably could get back to it just need to rewatch the movie, not yet completely posted on AO3 and tumblr

Fatal Flaw  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Grieving may be a long and painful process but in time most people do recover. For Hiro Hamada though something probably went wrong along the way because from what Aunt Cass could see, he was moving on yet at the same time, he wasn't.

Status: WIP, abandoned, completely forgot what I was planning, not yet posted on tumblr 

Coco

Dares, Pranks and Curses (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange. The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Somewhere between Life and Death (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Dia de los Muertos isn't the only day the dead can visit the living. Miguel is reunited with Hector, Imelda and his other relatives from the other side but in one of the worst ways possible and he finds himself caught in a struggle between life and death.

Status: WIP 9/20, on hold, timeline is complete just need to get it written, need to fix tumblr tags

Crossovers

Quest for Origin: Ranger’s Apprentice x Percy Jackson (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

A young boy gets washed up on the shore of Camp Half Blood with no memories whatsoever of his life before. How did he end up there? Is it all just a coincidence? Or is it a message from the Gods? What's with his uncanny skill with the bow?

Status: On Hold (25/35), timeline complete, will probably continue with PJO TV show comes out, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Kingdom Hearts

Coded Connection  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post KH3. If Kairi keeps Sora's memory alive, he'll eventually call out to her right? Then it will be her turn to find him, hold him and never let go.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr and ff

Kuroko no Basuke

Yellow, Red, Green, Blue and Purple  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Collab with friend back in high school. All Kise wanted to do was complete one more level of Flow Free before practice starts. When you have teammates as lazy, eccentric, hyperactive, sociopathic or invisible as the Generation of Miracles though, sometimes the things that sound the simplest, can be the hardest to do. Crackfic

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr

Ranger’s Apprentice

Being a Ranger’s Wife  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

As Will leaves on a suicide mission, Alyss ponders on her choice to have married him.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Danger Zone (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Rangers are human. Humans make mistakes. The difference though between an ordinary human and a ranger is the consequences they'll eventually face for past mistakes. Will should have known that for rangers, this included being on the run from an angry group of pirates with his silver oakleaf on the line.

Status: Probably Abandoned, first fanfic I have ever written lmao, completely forgot where I was going with this, not yet posted on tumblr or ffn.

Farmer’s Apprentice  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Masters, Apprentices and Sons (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Gilan accepts Morgarath's challenge in the Plains of Uthal and Halt is left to care for his apprentice in the aftermath of the battle. Halt wonders why it took him this long to realize that there was no fine line between an apprentice and a son.

Status: WIP. I have written out all the way until chapter 5 but I completely lost the files. I don’t know if my current frustration will allow me to continue this.

The Fall of a Hero  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will had fallen from his place as one of the top rangers in the corps and one of the top figures in Araluen and it's up to his friends to help pull him back up. Recovery Fic.

Status: WIP, timeline not written, could probably still continue this, just need to catch up to the series

Prince of Tennis

A Break from Ingenuity  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Timing is everything. Fuji gets his timing wrong, makes one misstep then finds himself facing a career ending injury. Maybe, that's when everyone will realize that he's human too.

Status: WIP. Will probs continue if new POT content comes out.

Yuri on Ice

Surprises  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

With all the stress piling up for the Japanese National Championship and more importantly, the World Championship, one can expect an athlete to get injured. To have the coach be the one struck by a career ending injury during practice is another story. That's exactly how Victor surprised the crowd though, maybe for the last time.

Status: WIP (3/?), not yet posted on tumblr

[gwoongi]

(abandoned) it’s late, just stay

john wick / reader genre: sugar daddy au rating: general, mature themes words: 2.4k warnings: sugar daddy relationship, slight john wick 2 spoilers i guess a/n: this 1 is for me. i wrote her in a heat,,,she’s literally not finished. but im adding her to my online portfolio 4 the memories. Also fyi the profile was made before i indulged in seeking arrangements and as a sugar baby i know that ur not allowed to mention 90% of brooklynbaby’s bio in ur bio but who cares man this is fiction and im making it up

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

Sometimes, John doesn’t really know how he gets himself into awkward situations.

The first few occasions, he figured it was merely a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. While, actually, this always worked out in his favour, John began to notice that it was more frequent that he ended up at a bar with some people he didn’t really know, or being invited to a baby shower as the date of a woman he had never even met before. Granted, John enjoyed company whenever he could get it, and whenever it avoided conflict; however socialism has never been his strongest asset. No, he simply prefers silent gestures or glances across rooms, ‘eye conversations’ where he says hello and nothing else for the remainder of the evening.

“You just need to loosen up a bit,” is what Addy had told him, whilst slipping him a glass of straight Bourbon. It had been a relatively quiet evening in the Continental, and just when John thought he could have five minutes of peace and quiet, Addy has slipped in his line of sight. “You know, go out. Make new friends.”

“You’re my friend,” John replied. He made no room to elaborate on that statement, swallowing the contents of the drink and pushing it back to her with a short nod. She sighed and rolled her eyes, doing her job.

“No, you know what you really need?” He didn’t answer, glancing at her through his hair as she filled his drink and rested her weight on her elbows. Instantly, John didn’t like the feeling in his stomach when Addy raised her eyebrows suggestively, tugging on her bottom lip with newfound excitement: “I think you need to get laid.” 

And when John scoffed with humour, she tried again, “and not like, laid as in you have a one night stand. No- hear me out, John! You should invest in a sugar baby. You know, someone you can spend time with when you’re not doing the dirty work for everybody else. It’s fun, and frisky, and also means you can start spending some of the millions you have stashed somewhere not being used.”

She tutted like a scolding mother, “Selfish boy.” Addy then smiled, “Maybe instead of retirement, what you really need is something to help you unwind.”

John scoffed, gulping back the Bourbon. “I’m married.”

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

That’s really all the thinking he had done on the subject of John- John fucking Wick- investing in a sugar baby. He simply took it in stride, almost complimented by the assumption that he was attractive and rich enough to have someone leaning on him for money and sex, and stored it away for future thought when he was lost and drunk. John never actually considered the possibility of “putting his bills to good use” until fucking Santino D’Antonio decided to light a bonfire inside his house. Having lost virtually everything related to Helen, he found himself back at the Continental, back to listening to Addy sympathetically give her condolences and five seconds later, introducing him to Seeking Arrangements.

John doesn’t know why he’s doing this, staring at the laptop screen that smiles at him. For circumstances, Addy had loaned him her laptop for the evening he spends at the Continental, and he’s too busy browsing the elaborately made profiles that he barely registers the fact that he is still wearing his suit. He pulls at the cuffs of his blazer and is midway through taking it off when he stumbles across a profile- one of which is oddly amusing- titled brooklynbaby. He racks his mind for the reference but can’t seem to place it.

“A sugar baby suggests that I sleep with them, and as I said,” John had mentioned back in the bar, “I’m married.”

Addy had grabbed his hands and groaned, “Look- you might surprise yourself. And, I’m not suggesting that you throw your wife away for somebody new. I’m just saying you need to...make use of yourself. Honestly, you’re too sexy to be stored away like this. Most sugar babies are dumb and unobservant, they won’t even know who you are.”

brooklynbaby makes an adorably hilarious first impression, and John is hesitant to browse her profile. If he wanted to “make use of himself” by investing all of his personal time into somebody who in truth wanted him for his dick and his bank balance, then it needed to be somebody at least near to his wavelength. Somebody who was smart, but clueless at the same time, and somebody who was the complete opposite of Helen. The last thing he needed on top of a handful of a baby was the guilt of moving on. But still, even when he pinned her tab and returned to scrolling through the profiles, John realised that most sugar babies were simply trolls hidden behind pretty pictures, or girls who wanted money for pleasure and not for need.

He went back to brooklynbaby. Three times. Three times, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a quiet, “Oh, fuck it,” and favoriting her account, and pressing to send a message.

Even online, John was never great with words. He typed, and backspaced, and typed again, trying to come up with something interesting to make up for the bland profile he made around thirty minutes ago.

From: johnwick So. You like dogs?

If Addy were here, she would have slapped him.

Almost immediately after it sends, John lets out a frustrated noise and tears his gaze away from the screen. Dating just wasn’t like how it was when he met Helen. Why did everything have to be so complicated, and mysterious, and why the hell does he even have to waste his money on somebody when he could be saving this money to eventually, whenever the day comes, retire? John wrestles with the dilemma of deleting the whole account when a notification bell rings through the laptop speakers.

From: brooklynbaby yes, I love dogs!!! :D (typing) do you have a dog?

John breathes a sigh of relief.

From: johnwick Yes. I do.

From: brooklynbaby oh, great. :) (typing)

John’s leg begins to bounce quickly, the table wavering with the glass on top, like an earthquake. Suddenly, brooklynbaby stops typing and John stills. Why did she stop? Did he do something wrong? Honestly, women are so hard to please nowadays.

From: brooklynbaby want to be my sugar daddy?

Never mind.

From: johnwick I would.

From: brooklynbaby cool

Neither him or brooklynbaby says anything for a few moments, and John doesn’t notice. After-all, he is still a working man, busy with life and revenge and trying to stay alive for more than three seconds. When he goes back to the laptop and sees no reply, he frowns.

From: johnwick I am sorry. I really don’t know what I’m doing. What am I supposed to say?

He makes a mental reminder to have words with Addy later.

From: brooklynbaby /(*u*)/ you’re cute we could make dinner reservations and talk over terms if you’d like!!! i say reservations because they’re fancy and if anything goes wrong, we can pretend we’re… business partners? discussing business?

Without even really realising, John finds himself laughing shortly, settling back into the chair. All of this feels weird, as in typing to a stranger he’s planning to spend his money on and occasionally fuck. John quickly revisits her profile and spends four minutes analysing her profile picture. If this is her, then she’s really very beautiful. A steal.

From: johnwick When are you free for dinner?

From: brooklynbaby hmm well i’m dogsitting tomorrow, but i can be free for the day after!!!! is that okay ^_^

From: johnwick That would be fine. [Address] at 7pm, does that work for you?

brooklynbaby pauses.

From: brooklynbaby omg am i gonna have to dress fancy?

From: johnwick Don’t feel pressured. I only own black.

From: brooklynbaby well….guess i’ll bring out like one of my old uni party dresses :( but you have to promise not to judge me!!!

John laughs again. At some point during the evening, he ends up with a planned dinner reservation at one of the most expensive restaurants in Brooklyn, and he’s also 2 grand poorer thanks to the generous donation in brooklynbaby’s bank account for a nice evening outfit.

When John returns the laptop to Addy the following morning, he was admittedly expecting the rant that followed. She had glared at the laptop being handed back over the bar and refused to serve him until he came up with a reasonably valid excuse as to why he wasn’t putting himself out there for a bit of company. John had blinked with an unimpressed look and drummed his fingers.

“I have dinner reservations with someone tomorrow at 7pm. Also- can I have a drink?”

But of course, with work being as tedious as ever and with his whole day being completely ruined by a blood stained shirt and poor room service for the first time in his many years of frequenting the Continental, John didn’t amuse himself with brooklynbaby until he logged onto the site on his phone, and saw that she had messaged thrice during the day. He almost felt guilty, until he saw a string of numbers at the end of the last message. He deemed it less necessary to read her above messages and instead went right to texting.

brooklynbaby ok. so should i just ask for mr john wick when i get to this restaurant??? sorry for so many texts im just kinda nervous

me Yes. I booked under my name and I will be waiting for you when you arrive. Why are you nervous? Didn’t you ask me to be here?

brooklynbaby well if we’re going to be technical then YOU asked me to dinner first :P and im nervous because i have nooo idea who you are send a picture?

John sank into bed.

me Maybe I like the element of surprise.

brooklynbaby seems a lil unfair that you get to see me but i dont get to see you :( ive seen ur dog before you thats saying something

me You could have used any image. If we’re going to be technical, I don’t even know your name, or if that is really you in the image.

John really hadn’t been expecting a full blown nude image at 4:15pm in the afternoon, but he will admit that it was nevertheless what he needed to break some steam. He had arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes earlier than expected, but that’s okay, Mr Wick. Right this way! Now that he was sitting here, at an empty table overlooking Brooklyn and the lights, with an already ordered bottle of wine, John could understand and relate to the first date nerves. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since-

brooklynbaby uhhh im kind of here like ten minutes early should i wait outside for you :3

He laughs, mostly to himself.

me I’m already up here. I ordered a rosé, is that alright?

brooklynbaby YES IM RUNNING

And, surprising himself also, John had clammed up and reached for his glass. Thankfully, the owner of this restaurant knew John by face and order, because, after-all, this had been his go-to with Helen. These days, he doesn’t have time to go out to new places and eat new things, and so had panicked, and picked a place with sentimental value, and a history of good food. He gulped back his glass of Bourbon and waited until the door at the other side of the room opened meekly, and he tried to appear vacant as the waiter led a woman across the room and towards him.

“Your date, Mr Wick.”

He left curtly and brooklynbaby followed his body as he left, her feet firmly glued to the floor as her head looked back over her shoulder. John took this as an opportunity to look at her body, covered in a beautiful dress he felt proud of paying for. Finally, brooklynbaby looked towards him and paused, observing him and his clearly surprising appearance. John then remembered the gash on his cheekbone and the way he probably looked very off-putting with an unshaven face and long hair, but brooklynbaby smiled softly and raised her brows, beating him to helping her in her chair as she quickly sat down and looked at his glass.

“How did you know I liked beards?”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t.”

brooklynbaby rolled her eyes with a grin. “Of course you didn’t.” She looked up, then, properly taking in his face. John did the same, looking at every feature present and coming to the quick conclusion that yes, she was definitely the woman in the pictures, and yes, she was one of the most gorgeous humans he had ever seen on planet Earth since Helen herself.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said honestly. “But, more than my expectations. I don’t believe I’ve really introduced myself- I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

He tried it out in his head. Y/N. Y/N L.N, Y/N L/N, Y/N Wick-

“John,” he replied and she sniggered and rested her chin in her palms.

“You’re seriously so handsome,” she complimented. “Are you sure you’re not married, or something?”

Her gaze panned to his hands where she noticed the wedding band, and for a moment, she hesitated. John wasn’t ashamed of the ring, nor embarrassed to be seen wearing it. He toyed with it on his finger, looking at her from across the table. “It’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded meekly. “I see.” She cleared her throat, “divorce? Planned divorce? Affair?”

“No, I’m widowed,” he tried out a joke, but she only looked more uncomfortable. Her mouth gaped and she fumbled for words.

“Oh, John, I’m really sorry- no, really, I’m so sorry,” she stumbled, and John watched her carefully across the table. “God, how fucking insensitive. Sorry, I guess that just. Wow, that never really crossed my mind. That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” John said, finding finality in that sentence. “I’m trying to move on from it.”

Y/N nodded sympathetically. “No, yeah, wow, I get it. Completely. I...hope I live up to great expectations, then?”

John smiled and looked past her, noticing the waiter rounding the corner with the bottle of rose. “You’re getting there, Miss L/N.”

[itzagothamcitysiren]

There’s Only Us Left Now

An update two days in a row? Wow, there really is something wrong with me lol. 

I’m feeling slightly better after taking the morning to just take care of myself. I got the haircut that I’ve needed since like before covid started. I got my oil change that needed to be change since June. And I went to Ulta and got a new eye shadow pallete and Old Navy for some flannels.  Now I’m going to eat my Taco Bell and get back into writing this! 

Thanks again to those who are still reading this <3 This chapters a little shorter than what I usually write but I wanted to show stuff from Tim’s POV. 

I Had a Dream I Was a Vigilante’s Side Kick pt. 4

           Tim Drake was a considerably patient kid as having patience was a requirement in his family. Having strong shoulders was another one as the amount of bullshit his father piled onto them would overwhelm the average fifteen year old. Tim wasn’t the strongest but up until now he was pretty damned sure that he was strong enough to deal with it.

           He ran his hands through his hair again. His back still leaned against his bedroom door that separated him from the living room. The conversation he could hear from the opposing side was going just as badly as the one he had yesterday with Halley Wilson had gone. He closed his eyes when he heard his father’s grunt and the sound of him being hit in the gut.

           Okay, maybe it was going worse.

           Tim wanted to step out and help his father but he wasn’t an idiot. Oswald Cobblepot’s cronies, as thick headed as they were, could easily make Tim regret any stand of rebellion. That was why he banked all his cards into the famed batfamily. They could give him the skills he needed to protect his family from the consequences of his father’s life choices. He would’ve been able to stop this.

           He knew he could’ve simply asked for help but what would they really have done? Batman wasn’t the Batman he once was. Like he had told Halley, he was darker, more brutal as he fought. Tim grew up idolizing the hero and like any kid in Gotham wanted to be the next Robin. But unlike all those other kids Tim was fit for the job.

           Hell he had figured out that Bruce Wayne was Batman. He found out all of their identities. Tim knew how to track them down and where to find them. He’d tailed Halley for weeks without her noticing him. She was supposed to be his ticket in. He failed of course. He knew his chances of actually getting her on his side were slim but he thought he’d get further than he had.  At the time, he was unaware the details but he knew there had to be some big reason for her to quit being Nightshade. He was naïve to think he could get her back into the game with him tagging along.

           “He died because of the Joker.” Halley’s words echoed in his head as he heard his father let out another grunt. Tim knew that there was a risk being Batman’s sidekick and he had a hunch that the whole skiing accident story about Jason Todd was in fact just a story and held no real truth.

           Tim pulled away from the door quiet as to not alert the goons invading his house that he was home. His dad was a screw up that much Tim knew but like Tim he wasn’t an idiot. He made idiotic decisions like taking out a loan with the Penguin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to pay back but he wasn’t stupid. He was just desperate; he was desperate to save his failing business and make a better life for his family. Tim could relate trying to rake through his mind for a solution for his failed attempt yesterday.

           He made his way to his balcony. They only lived on the third floor and the climb down by the fire escape wasn’t that hard. He could go try again. Maybe explain his situation better. Maybe Halley would put the cape and mask back on just to help him take down Penguin? No, she wouldn’t. But if he had to deduce anything he’d be pretty confident in saying that she told the other me members of the batfamily about him knowing their secret. He could use that to go straight to Batman. The taxi ride out to Wayne Manor wasn’t the worst. It was only a little more expansive than boy could afford right now but it could possibly be worth it.

           He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked out at the streets below him. Would it be worth it though? His father got them in too deep with one of the biggest crime bosses of Gotham. Batman would just slap him around a bit and then send him to Arkham in which Cobblepot would just live out his sentence in luxury until he was let out. His family would still be indebted with him and in trouble when he got out. And he would get out; he always got out.

           Tim’s eyes lit with a spark an idea flashing across his mind.  He was either a genius or he was either insane. Beyond insane, he decided to himself before softly rushing back into his room, but extremely genius.

           He stood still hearing the intruders bidding farewell too his father with a demand for him to make sure he can pay up at their next visit. Tim looked down knowing his dad was most likely making his way to the bathroom to lick his wounds before his mother caught home from work. Unlike his mother, Tim wasn’t kept in the dark from his father’s misfortune, having caught his father during another one of his meetings some time ago.

           Once Tim heard the front door be locked and the bathroom door close, he picked up his step and made his way to his desk. He opened up his laptop, logging in and setting himself off to work. His fingers typed furiously, his eyes flickered across the screen and his mind was pushed the farthest it had ever been pushed. Tim was great with computers. So great that he was able to not only use it to track down Halley but when he was first learning how to hack he had been able to award himself a full scholarship to Gotham Academy.

           Tim was smart enough to get in but his guidance counselor never got around to submitting his application in time. You gotta love Gotham’s amazing public school system, Tim huffed, remembering how little the counselor cared about her delay. And it wasn’t like Tim’s parents could really afford to send him themselves right now. Maybe a couple of years ago when his father had just begun stepping into the higher class of Gotham. But that was before he made a couple of bad deals that lead them to where they were now.

           The fifteen year old cracked his knuckles the time passing by quickly as he continued to work. The sun setting and then rising didn’t faze him. He was done by the time he was supposed to be waking up and getting ready for school. He smirked as he closed the laptop knowing his work was done. He had managed to do exactly what Batman failed to do. He finally found a way to take Oswald Cobblepot down for good.

           The smug smile he wore from the moment he closed his laptop to the moment he walked to school and to the moment he sat in the library alone during lunch never faded. He was already the weird, poor, outcasted kid in the school but he didn’t care if the twisted smile he had on helped his case or not. He was happy; he stuck it right where it hurt. Oswald deserved everything Tim did last night.

           He jingled his house keys, a certain pep in his step as he walked down the hallway to his apartment. His book bag slung over his shoulder, the day going by as quick as a breeze. He wanted to tell his dad what he did but he knew that it was a secret he was meant to keep. He hummed to himself as he opened the door to the apartment.

           For the first time since it appeared, the self-righteous look on his face was torn right off.      His eyes scanned around the kitchen, the open dining area shown off as well. His eyes nearly blew out of his skull as he saw the disarray the rooms were in. The side table where they all left their keys and mail was knocked over as if someone was pushed into it in some sort of scuffle. The dining room table was top side as well one of the chair broken and tossed off to the side.

           He felt his heart stop quietly closing the door behind him and ignoring every instinct to run away. He could hear soft sobs. They sounded like his mother. Oh no, he thought dreadfully. There was no way Cobblepot knew it was him. There was no way. Tim used every form of protection he had. He used firewall after firewall, decoy vpn after decoy vpn. Tim was so sure he was careful. And if he knew how did he find out so quickly?

           “Mom?” he called out, his voice shaking. On his way to the living room, where the sound of her cries were coming from, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the first thing he could find. It was a frying pan but it would do. “Mom.” He called out again stepping over one of the chairs on the floor.

           “Mom!” He called out when he got sight of her. She sat on the couch, her head in her hands and shoulders shaking. The small living room was just as a mess as the first half of the house. Tim crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”

           His mother raised her head, staring at her son with her tear reddened eyes. She choked out a sob before launching herself at him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Her words were hard to understand as she began to talk, but Tim knew what happened.

           “They took your father! They wouldn’t tell me why! I don’t even know who they are. They just came in and did this,” She cried, releasing her son and motioned to the apartment. “They said if I called the cops they’d kill him. I don’t know what to do.”

           Tim bit his lip knowing exactly what happened and who they were. He stood up heading out of the living room and to his room. His mother followed him still obviously shaken and didn’t know what her son was up too or why he looked so unsurprised. Tim took a quick peek at his desk. His fear was confirmed when he saw that it was missing. He cursed to himself. His mother always said Tim and his father were two peas in a pod but he never believed it until now.

           “Mom,” he said placing both hands on her shoulder.  “You need to get out of the city. Go to Gram’s house. I know who can help us but it’s not safe for you.”

           “Excuse you?” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about? No, what I’m going to do is go to the police. It’s what I should’ve done.” She sniffled, wiping her face and moving to head to the phone in the kitchen.

           Tim beat her too it, snatching it out of her hands and smashing it onto the floor and stomping on it. He rubbed his foot in it and looked up at her apologetically.

           “Timothy!” She cried out.

           “I’m sorry but don’t call them. They’re serious. They’ll kill Dad.” Tim explained as he began to back away. “Go to Gram’s.” He repeated before making a dash to the front door and bolting out of the apartment before his mother could stop him.

           He ignored her screaming after him and raced out and onto the streets of Gotham. He pushed past people, shouting out apologies. His breath was heavy as he ran making his way in desperation to Gotham University.

[nubnubblr]

If You Do. 32 Handcuff Hideaway

THEA

         "Do you have any classes for the next hour or so?" I asked Shawn. Everyone recovered quickly but there was still concern in their expressions that Mackenzie was going to walk back through that door and Shawn's world would fall apart.

"Nope," he shrugged taking a huge bite out of a burger.

"Does that mean you want to be my knight in sweaty armour?"

"That's gross," Charlie pulled a face.

"Where do you want to go?" Shawn ignored her comment.

"I want to do some shopping," I smiled sweetly.

"But you're crippled," Junsun smirked.

"The correct term is disabled and that never stops you," I retorted.

"How am I disabled?" he frowned.

"You're disabled in the brain," I huffed.

"I think that's referred to as being 'on the spectrum'" Austin commented.

"Fine, I'll go with you shopping," Shawn nodded devouring the rest of his meal.

"You're ditching me?" Charlie frowned.

"No, Doobin said he was having trouble remembering your choreo on top of the other classes he's taking, I figured you were going to help him out and that would have left me stuck here," I sent her a slight smirk.

"He doesn't need my help," she gave me a warning look.

"Actually, some help would be great," Doobin nodded.

"Seriously?" she asked in a flat tone.

"I mean if you don't want to, I'll just go ask one of the other students," he shrugged.

"Oh, come on, throw the kid a bone," Austin sided with Doobin. I had to cough to cover the laugh that almost burst from my throat.

"Fine, but you better pay attention because I'm not doing this again," she huffed.

"Right," but Doobin and I mumble together.

CHARLIE

         I knew that he didn't want me to help with the choreography, he could do it in his sleep. But I wasn't going to boost his ego any more than it already was.

"So what part of the choreo is confusing your little brain?" I sighed following him into an empty practice room.

We have a few around the building, they were just small 5x3 meatre rooms with a mirror covering one wall and a door, there were no window and the rooms where soundproof so that several students could practise at the same time without disturbing or being disturbed by anyone. The doors also had locks on them, convenient.

"Why don't we start with something you know isn't small?"

"You're attitude?" I raised an eyebrow.

He just smirked, let out a slight laugh, then his face turned dark with lust, he took a step towards me and instinctively I took one back leaving me pressed up against the wall, with nowhere to go. His lips connected with my neck and a small moan escaped my lips, I felt his smirk on my neck before he relocated his mouth to mine. I wanted to curse myself for giving in so easily but the logic in my brain evaporated the longer Doobin's lips assaulted mine.

"If you want me to stop just say so," his husky voice whispered inside my ear. I didn't trust my voice so I just didn't say anything, he waited a few moments before taking my silence as permission to continue.

I was lost in my train of thought as we slid to the floor, he stretched my hands over my head with one hand, logic slammed back into me when I felt the cold metal clamp around my wrists.

"What are you doing?" I frowned.

"Having a little fun,"

"What if someone tries to come in?"

"The door is locked, and the room is soundproof. But if you want me to unlock you then that's fine, just thought it would be fun," he shrugged.

I don't know why, and I wasn't even sure when I had decided it would be fine, but the words seemed to fall from my mouth before my brain had the chance to run them through a logic filter. Instead of saying what I should have said, being the responsible adult and his teacher, I said;

"Leave them on,"

BM

         I wanted to throw everything, I had to step away from my desk so that I didn't throw anything breakable or important. I was trying to function on barley any sleep, Austin has stolen so much money that I wasn't able to give a lot of shifts out to my staff and I even had to let a few go. They were understanding about the whole situation, but not being able to use my staff meant that I had to cover the shifts. Thea still came in and worked the kitchen, but she didn't say anything to me, she just showed up, did her job, and left. So my day usually went; up at 3 a.m, work at the bakery until 6a.m, come home and get a few hours sleep, usually 3 or 4, then wake up but no later than 10 a.m, set up the bar, re-stock the shelves, do ordering, open, serve customers until closing at 1a.m, clean the bar, maybe eat something, quick shower, sleep for an hour, and repeat.

So, I was overworked, overtired, understaffed, and severely stressed. I had been to the bank about a loan, but they felt like I was too much of a risk, I had reported Austin to the police, but I wasn't hopeful about getting my money back, I should probably talk to one of the boys about it because I know they would help out in the bar but they hadn't been home since I slept with Olivia, it was pretty clear they know about it, also I vaguely remembered hearing Charlie's voice.

I'd been feeling guilty about that since it happened, not just because of her technically being Sam's girl-whatever, or because it was Jae's bed, or even the whole Thea situation. Don't get me wrong, I felt bad about all of that, but I had also realised that I had kind of been seeing Somin, and I mean, we weren't dating per say but it's not okay to show someone that you're interested in them and the go and slept with someone else. That's not the type of person I am, but I haven't really been acting like myself lately.

Pushing my friends away, keeping secrets, sleeping with strangers, getting angry for no reason. Okay, not for no reason, but in from the point of view from everyone else it is for not reason because I haven't told them what's going on.

Maybe I should just sell my car.

THEA

         "I still don't understand why you haven't already done your Christmas shopping," Shawn frowned at me as we made our way back to the dance studio. We had been gone about an hour and a half, long enough for Mackenzie to be long gone, and for Charlie and Doobin to have finished, 'dancing'.

"I have most of it done, shut up, like you have any Christmas shopping done," I huffed defensively.

"I only have to buy for a handful of people, and I'm not Miss Overly Organised, which is why I'm surprised that you're Christmas shopping wasn't don't in like July," he retorted.

Okay, it was actually already done, but in September, not July. I just needed a reason to get Shawn to stay out shopping when he was insisting on my getting off my foot. Besides I found some things that I just had to buy for Charlie.

"Maybe you should have used this time to do your Christmas shopping,"

"I still have time,"

"Christmas is in like 8,"

"Yeah, that's 8 days full of time to buy things,"

"When there is nothing left in the shopping centres that qualifies as good gifts, you'll regret waiting," I shook my head at him.

"It's the thought that counts," he tried to counter,

"And apparently they're the last thought," I retorted.

"Has anyone ever told you that they can only handle you in small doses?" he huffed at me.

"All the time," I nodded as we walked into 1Million, well technically I hobbled but I wasn't about to admit that.

"Shit. I have a class in 10 minutes," Shawn groaned.

"I thought you said you were free?"

"I forgot about it, I'll catch up to you later," he rushed off.

I looked around for Charlie, she didn't seem to be anywhere maybe she was still with Doobin? Her car was still out the front, and she wouldn't leave me here anyway. She had to be with Doobin, I should probably find them before Shawn stubbled across them.

"You're back," Doobin nodded towards me, he was standing in the doorway of one of the classrooms. I looked around him to see if Charlie was in there. She wasn't.

"Yeah, have you see Charlie?"

"I have," he smirked.

"Okay, stupid question. Do you know where she is?"

"Of course," he nodded still smirking.

"Well are you going to tell me?" I sighed.

"She's in that room," he nodded towards one of the practise rooms.

"Thank you,"

"Thea," he called as I turned away from him.

"What?"

"You might need these," he handed me a set of small keys.

"These look too small to unlock the door," I thought out loud.

"They're not for the door," he smirked, I frowned and began to ask him what they were for but he turned and walked into the classroom, that Shawn was teaching.

I headed over to the door he had pointed towards turned the handle, but it was locked. I thought he had said that the key wasn't for the door. I knocked just in case I had the wrong door. Then realised that the rooms were sound proof so I wasn't sure she would even hear it, so I rattled the handle.

CHARLIE

         The door handle turned and shook, if whoever was on the other side was calling me, I couldn't hear them, the downside to a soundproof room. Did I risk opening the door to see if it was Doobin with the keys? What if it was one of the other boys? How did I explain being naked and handcuffed in a practice room? I didn't. Which left me with no other option but to wait until Doobin decided to come and save me. Even though he is the reason that I'm stuck in this situation to begin with.

My phone started buzzing in my pants pocket on the floor. I maneuverer my way towards them and somehow managed to answer the call, only because it was Thea. I hit the loudspeaker button.

"Hey,"

"Hey, opened the door,"

"Why?"

"Because Doobin gave me a key and said that you would need it,"

"Where is he?"

"In Shawn's class,"

"And where is everyone else?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"So, if I open the door, you're the only one out there?"

"Well, other than the reception staff but they're all busy. Why are you being weird?"

"Okay, I'm unlocking the door, but hurry up," I sighed working my way to my feet. I unlocked the door and quickly ducked behind it just in case anyone looked over to see what Thea was up too.

"Why are you being so weir..." Thea started at me.

"Close the door!" I snapped.

She pushed it closed and tried to cover a laugh with a cough. May have actually worked, if she didn't just laugh instead.

"What?" was all she could manage to get out between laughs.

"Shut up and give me the keys," I snapped.

"And you think you're going to be able to unlock those cuffs by yourself?" she raised an eyebrow once she stopped laughing, although she still managed to chuckle at me.

"Yes," I cursed the doubt that found its way into my voice.

"Do you want me to uncuff you?" she giggled.

"I want you to stop being a jerk, but I guess I'll take the uncuffing," I sighed, she held her laughter until I said uncuffing, for some reason she found that hysterical.

"Thea!"

"Oh, wait, I have the perfect thing for you!" she beamed.

"Like the keys to these cuffs?"

"Yeah, yeah, in a second," she rolled her eyes rummaging through the bags in her hands.

"Bro, I'm literally standing here naked," I was starting to get a little annoyed.

"Yeah, I know, I'm about to fix that,"

"You could just give me the damn keys and I could get dressed!"

"Yeah, but that wouldn't be nearly as entertaining. Ah! Here it is," she smirked pulling a jacket from one of her bags.

"I have clothes over there,"

"Yeah, but this works sooo much better, I saw this in a shop and had to buy it for you, because you're technically Doobin's professor, I got you a professor jacket, with elbow pads!" she unfolded the grey checked jacket, brown patched covered the elbows.

"I hate you, now uncuff me,"

"Argh, fine," she rolled her eyes.

THEA

         I uncuffed her and she basically kicked me out of the practice room, she's so touchy sometimes. I watched Shawn's dance class through the glass door. Doobin seemed pretty pleased with himself, he caught my eye through the door and smirked at me, I suppose that the fact I was the only other person who knew about the two gave him a small kick, considering that he could basically brag about it with one look.

"Let's go," Charlie came out of the

SAM

         "I want food," Jae whined lounging across the edge of the couch.

"Then go get something," I shrugged.

"Are you kidding me? The last time I took food out of that crazy dwarfs kitchen she withheld food from me for like a week,"

"It was an hour, and that's because you were so annoying she didn't want to listen to you anymore,"

"Yeah, well, it felt like a week,"

"Then order something,"

"That takes too long to get here, and it costs money,"

"You can wait until she gets home,"

"Can you message them and see how long they're going to be?"

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I don't know where my phone is," he whined

"You're literally staring at it,"

"Shh, busy," he muttered scrolling through Tumblr.

SAM: Hey, where are you guys? Jae is complaining he's hungry and I'm worried he is going to eat me.

I wasn't expecting her to reply so quickly but she replied before I could relock my phone.

CHARLIE: Just waiting for Thea to get her braces off, not sure how long it will take.

"Charlie doesn't know how long she is going to be,"

"They went shopping, how much can two poor girls even buy?" he huffed.

"They're at the dentist, Thea is getting her braces off," I rolled my eyes. He paused, looked at me and smirked.

"Come on," he stood up.

"What?"

"We'll go get food, Thea is going to be in so much pain when she gets back," he beamed.

"You don't need to sound so happy about it," I frowned.

"Yes, I do. Do you know how easy it is to annoy her when she's in pain, and then she does that thing where she get huffy and hurts herself, it's hilarious, but I'll even buy her food to make up for it,"

"Really?" I looked at him sceptically.

"I mean, you'll pay for it because I lost my wallet, but sure," he shrugged.

"Of course, you did," I rolled my eyes.

"I think I left it next to or on my bed, so it may as well be lost, who knows what naked parts of BM have touched that," he shuttered.

"Okay fine," I sighed.

"Keys," he held his hand out.

"Why?"

"Because you still can't drive? Do you think I'm going to walk there and like go into the building with those people?"

"Those people? Who are also going to buy fast food because their too lazy to cook for themselves?"

"If you were supposed to cook for yourself they wouldn't have invented cars and drive throughs, are you going to mope around here daydreaming about Charlie or are you going to come on this adventure with me?"

"We're going on an adventure?"

"It's modern-day hunting, come on Samwise," he stood.

"Does that make you Frodo?" I raised an eyebrow following him.

"I feel more like a Gandalf, wise and magical,"

"More like Radagast," I commented.

"Charlie likes him better anyway," he shrugged.

CHARLIE

         The boys weren't there when we got home, or at least Sam's car wasn't and he still can't drive so unless Jae decided to go out and take Sam's car, which wasn't likely.

"I thought the boys were staying again?" Thea frowned.

"Maybe they went to get a change of clothes," I shrugged.

"Hopefully they don't come back, the last thing I need right now is Jae and his stupid face,"

"Are you sure you two don't have a thing for each other?" I raised an eyebrow.

"If by 'a thing' you mean do I want to stab him with a sword? Then yes, but if you mean in the general sense, then I would rather stab myself with a sword," she pulled a disgusted face.

"You two just seem really interested in where each other are," I shrugged.

"I am in enough pain right now; do you have to make me want to vomit as well?" she sighed.

"Shouldn't you be pain-free after having your braces off?"

"You would think so, after two years with the pressure moving my teeth you would think the release would be amazing, not painful,"

"Then again, it's been two years of pressure, what happens when you release the pressure after you hurt yourself?"

"Intense pain," she groaned collapsing into the couch.

"There are painkillers in the kitchen, do you want me to get them?"

"I'll get them, hot coffee might help with the pain," she sighed.

"Alright,"

"Do you want water in the kettle?" she asked.

"I'm good," I shook my head.

She just nodded leaving the room, I checked my messages to see if Sam and sent one letting me know where he had gone, he hadn't.

CHARLIE: Hey, where are you guys?

SAM: Jae decided he would have me buy us food, he thought it would be entertaining to get things Thea can't eat and eat it in front of her.

CHARLIE: Forget his wallet again?

SAM: Apparently he lost it

CHARLIE: I bet you it's in his pocket

"Where are these painkillers?" Thea asked, she walked into the lounge room pulling the door with her.

"On the shelf about the kettle,"

"They're not," she shook her head.

"Maybe they're in my bedroom," I got up, she turned around to leave the room, the door handle wouldn't turn.

"Not funny," I frowned at her.

"Not kidding," she frowned back.

"Seriously?"

"I must have hit the lock on the way in,"

"You locked us in the lounge room?"

"I mean not if your bedroom window isn't locked," I thought about it, I had locked it a few nights ago, there was a breeze that came into my room and the window only stayed securely closed if it was locked.

"Is yours?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Paranoid," she pointed at herself.

"So you locked us in the lounge room," I sighed.

"I mean only technically, we can just call one of the boys to come to save us," she shrugged.

"Jae and Sam only went to get food, they'll be back soon,"

"See, we're fine," she shrugged again.

"I'll text Sam and ask them to hurry up,"

SAM

         CHARLIE: Hey, can you guys be quick, Thea locked us in the lounge room

"We don't need anything else?" I asked as Jae pulled out of the parking lot.

"No, why? Do you miss Charlie already?"

"No, the girls are locked in the lounge room, Charlie wants us to come save them,"

"How did they...?" he because.

"Thea," I cut him off.

"Of course," he shook his head.

"Well, let's go to the Zoo then," he smirked, which probably meant he wasn't going to save them straight away.

"The Zoo?"

"Their lounge room is basically entirely windows, which means we can eat and enjoy the show,"

"Charlie will kill you,"

"Probably," he shrugged not seeming too phased by the idea.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know one thing i hate when someone writes an article on “buy now, pay later” schemes vs credit cards or payday loans or whatever the fuck else is how older people use the bullshit snarky “oh stupid young millennials always wanting things NOW! RIGHT THIS MINUTE! spoilt brats! learn to budget and save and go without you silly conceited fools!” overly contrite lecture.

but daphne or craig, do you know that there’s things you can’t fucking save for sometimes??? like uni textbooks for example??? like i wouldn’t save up for a year for a textbook (if i really had to buy the latest copy or not use the uni library version or w/e to save money) for a uni course! i need it right fucking now! i can’t wait until i have a spare $200 in my account if my professor wants me to have it for the start of semester... or even halfway through the sem or whatever if i was late getting it. i can’t wait six weeks for a delivery to the uni bookshop or a local bookstore which is what you’re suggesting. i have to have it now (if i can buy it in store locally and the store offers afterpay etc as a payment option) or in a weeks time through fishpond or catch of the day. and you know what will let me do that? afterpay or zip pay or whatever “buy now, pay later” scheme that a website or a bookshop offers, that isn’t a credit card with a 20% interest rate. and the best thing with these schemes that they’re done in 8 weeks or something if i pay on time, if it’s something small. it’s not hanging on like a credit card would or does if you don’t manage to pay it off in a certain amount of years with bank interest and junk each fortnight/week.

like obvs yes if i make a late payment or something on the said textbook through those programs i get charged a $10 late fee or other fees as well, to keep the account running ($6 like zip pay) but at least i got my desired textbook on time and not on a six week shipment that would piss off my professor if the uni (or another local bookstore) only had a limited supply that sold out quickly. i can’t wait 8 weeks to have money. i need it now. that’s my point, you idiots. and at least i’m not shackled with years of debt like i would be with a fucking credit card or cards like “latitude pay” over 18 months that you can use to pay for more expensive purchases like laptops or i think even furniture, depending.

and even some medical practices (dentists) use “buy now, pay later” schemes now. yes you can pay for D E N T A L appointments, which are always pricey, through zip pay (for general appointments i think) or zip money for more expensive work like braces or wisdom teeth removal. which i might do at some point, since i haven’t had a dentist’s appointment for 4 or 5 years. is that not being a responsible adult??? which is partly what you’re harping on about, neville or wallacia??? surely i’m not wasting money on a dental checkup?? where i’d pay the payments of let’s say $89.50 each fortnight on the day i get paid? is that not being responsible??

on another note about “adulting things”, even some car mechanic places are starting to offer these “buy now, pay later” schemes??? how often do people and how many people leave the servicing of their car bc they can’t afford to pay the full cost of a particular job when they put it in??? a lot of people, a good bulk of the time. but if you can schedule it with afterpay/zip pay etc in more affordable and much smaller instalments..... then that’s far better than going broke because the car servicing job took the last $500 out of your account or something like that. christ. not every millennial is absolutely atrocious with their money management, brenda and dennis.

and obviously yes, i do use these programs wastefully, in your eyes fred or jemima, for clothes or something as well.... but i usually try to pay those payments as soon as i get paid instead of buying/paying them when i can’t afford them??? because sometimes on a student budget, you can’t afford to spend $70 outright on clothes that you actually need for job interviews or something. so, then you’ll put it on afterpay (which i do). and yes sometimes you can have a lot of these payments at the same time (sometimes i might have 2 or 3 purchases that have afterpay payments still to be paid off because i was in a “treat yoself” splurge mood, for example) because you’ve bought too many things on it at once. but at least you know you’ll pay them off and not be stuck with them for a year or even a lifetime, like you can with credit cards.

[tysonrunningfox]

Toothless: Return to the Black Pony of Second Chances: Part 4

No one cares if fanfictions have equal length chapters (that’s my mantra) no one cares if fanfictions have equal length chapters (it’s still 3300 words) 

Ao3

The first time I saw Stormfly, she had a blue bow around her neck and was eating my mother’s marigolds.  Half the planter box was mowed flat in the time it took my Uncle Finn to come inside and get me, but I didn’t stay to hear the resulting argument.  I was up in the shiny new saddle and down the driveway before the ‘thank you, Uncle Finn, I love you so much” was done echoing off of the covered porch roof. 

And yes, Stormfly was a little rough around the edges.  She still is, these days, spending so much time checking fences and begging treats off of people, but she’d never…oh, I don’t know, break down a fence at someone’s horse farm and lure their prize herd out the morning the bank was coming to appraise assets. 

“What’s wrong with its leg?”  Hiccup asks, pressing his face to the stall bars, stupid ripped jeans covered in driveway gravel dust. 

“It’s infected,” I answer, taking a step closer to the stall to gesture at the obvious swelling on the horse’s back, left haunch, but pausing when he starts to rear again, staggering sideways against the wall. 

Hiccup glares at me.  Something resembling fierce for a second instead of the petulant expression I hate that I’ve almost gotten used to in the last couple of hours.  I also hate that he thinks he’s some kind of protector to this dangerous horse just because it liked him for a fluke second, and I cross my arms, daring him to keep up the expression, but Mr. Haddock enters the barn and I take a step back. 

“The vet’s almost here,” Mr. Haddock says comfortingly, rolling his eyes when the little black horse tosses his head, red-rimmed eyes wild, spit frothing from his lips. 

“Is the vet going to help it?”  Hiccup asks, a little too eager, boyish under all that sarcasm and I can’t help but wonder how Ruffnut sees him as the same age as we are. 

Then again, Ruffnut seems young too, her farm’s loss rolling off her back instead of sticking like mine has. 

“Hiccup,” Mr. Haddock’s gentle tone is lost on his son, who’s angry again, a flippant, disrespectful kind of angry that I don’t know how to tolerate.  “He didn’t sell at auction, he won’t let anyone near him, he’s a danger to the other horses and now, to people.” 

I know that Snotlout ate shit chasing the horse and scraped up his elbow, and usually I wouldn’t consider that human harm, but anytime that a horse gets out it’s dangerous.  Especially a horse who won’t be caught.  Especially a horse who’s torn down fences in the past. 

“So what?  You’re just going to get rid of it?  Of him?”  Hiccup swallows, gawky Adam’s apple bobbing, and I should go bring the groceries in.  I should let them yell without an audience, no matter how much I want to tell Hiccup how inappropriate it is to yell at his father. 

Of course, he wouldn’t understand.  Maybe he was born here, but he’s obviously a city boy now.  Sometimes, animals die.  It’s hard, it’s always hard.  It’s hard enough at the right season, loading a herd into a trailer and knowing where they’re going, and it’s worse when it’s an injury or an illness. 

But it happens.  And it’s one of a rancher’s most important jobs to face the problem head on, with empathy and dignity in mind. 

“What’s my choice here, son?”  Mr. Haddock’s frustration shows in his posture even as his voice stays even.  “The animal is in pain, he’s not going to get any better without medical care.  It’s been a month now and he’s only getting worse—”

“Because no one’s been taking care of him.”  Hiccup raises his voice but the little black horse doesn’t react with any of its usual anger, instead taking him in with wide eyes, sweaty chest heaving a little more evenly. 

“He won’t let anyone near him,” I try to hold my hand out towards the stall door and the horse tosses his head again, pawing at the ground with a clumsy front hoof. 

“I caught him just fine,” Hiccup snaps at the world at large and a horse down the stall row stomps and stirs at the loud interruption. 

“The way I see it, son, and I’ve been around horses longer than you’ve been alive—”

“You’re old, ok, what does that have to do with this horse right now?”  Hiccup points into the stall, rude and belligerent and stupid, if he doesn’t know the answer to that question. 

I don’t think that’s true, I think he wants his dad to say it out loud so that he has a reason to shame him, and the thought makes me sick.  After everything Mr. Haddock has done for all of us, to make him feel guilty about not being able to save the little reject mustang that no one wants is…I almost turn and leave, but it feels like part of my responsibility to witness. 

“It’s a kindness, Hiccup.”  Mr. Haddock has more patience than I ever will, “to do this quickly, inside where he can be comfortable—”

“Instead of trying to help him?”  Hiccup’s voice cracks. 

“Look at that wound, Hiccup.  He’ll probably be lame—”

“Oh.  So, it’s not worth doing then.  Ok,” he barks back flatly, sarcasm a veil over the words, “I get it.” 

“That’s not—”  Mr. Haddock sighs, and I’ve never heard him think about backtracking before so it takes me a second to recognize the pause for what it is, especially as it’s interrupted by tires on the gravel driveway.  The vet, surely, we aren’t expecting anyone else.  “Your mother and I thought coming here would help you learn some responsibility—”

“By watching horses die because a leg injury means there’s something irreparably wrong with them,” Hiccup rolls his eyes, flippant anger simmering under the words, “are you getting parenting advice from Old Yeller again?” 

“If the horse means so much to you,” Mr. Haddock’s vast store of patience runs out and his booming voice quiets all of the stalls but one, where the little black horse stomps and snorts, “then you take care of it.  Talk to the vet, find the money for what he needs, and nurse him back to health.” 

“I don’t know anything about horses—”

“You should have considered that before you started this argument, young man.” 

I wish I’d left.  Really, I do.  I wish I were cleaning the chicken coop or checking the cows or hell, watching Snotlout talk ad nauseum about proper bull riding technique, because any of those things would be better than standing here watching this. 

“I don’t have any money,” Hiccup continues in a small voice, hands in his hoodie pockets, “can I get a loan.” 

“Loans get paid back, son.  With interest.” 

“I’ll do that,” he insists, “and if it doesn’t work—just let me try, Dad.”  The title comes out in a different tone, an earnest one, and I take the chance to leave, striding out of the barn and greeting Dr. Goethi on the way back to the house. 

Snotlout is sitting on the patio railing, nursing his scraped-up elbow, “has anyone dealt with that thing yet?” 

“Your lack of balance and inability to chase something without tripping over your own feet?”  I quip back without thinking, trying to think about dinner as I open the screen door and slip inside.

“Lack of balance?”  Snotlout follows, “come on, Astrid, usually when you’re mean you don’t stoop to being stupid—”

“What’s going on?”  Ruffnut looks up from the potatoes she’s been lackadaisically peeling, “how’d it go?” 

“The vet’s with them now,” I let myself sit, probably for the first time since the sun came up, unless I was driving, and it makes me even more tired.  “I should go get the groceries out of the truck.” 

“I’ll help,” Ruffnut offers, selfless like she only is when she needs something, and as soon as we’re back outside, she’s peppering me with questions, “what did you guys talk about?  Did he remember you pulling his hair?” 

“What are you talking about?”  I’d hand the box to her but I’m half-sure she’d drop it, so I prop it on my hip to shut the back door of the truck.  Someone parked it properly during the commotion of getting the runaway horse into the barn, and I double check for the keys before locking it and starting back towards the house. 

“You and Hiccup having a long car ride together—”

“Hiccup?”  I stop short, irritation and curiosity and irritation at that curiosity all prickle the back of my neck as I try not to glance towards the barn.  The horse isn’t shrieking.  That probably means it’s almost over.  He said it himself, he doesn’t know how to take care of a horse, much less a sick, violent one who doesn’t want to be here.  “You’re asking about Hiccup right now?” 

“No, I care about the stupid horse that got out and chores or whatever,” Ruffnut rolls her eyes, “of course I’m asking about Hiccup.  He’s new and he’s going to be here all summer and you were alone with him for the first time since the fated second grade hair-pulling incident—”

“He says he’s going to take care of the mustang,” I cut her off, stomping back up towards the house.  “We’ll see if he survives the summer.” 

“It did seem to like him,” Ruffnut misses my tone entirely, craning her neck to see through the open barn door instead of getting the door into the house for me.

00000

By the time the Haddocks are done with the vet, Gobber has arrived to save us all from whatever Ruffnut was going to call dinner, and everyone has returned from their last afternoon chores to help set the table.  Ruffnut won’t stop looking at me like she thinks I’m keeping a secret and I do my best to ignore her, quizzing Fishlegs about the back pasture and looking anywhere but at the door. 

When it opens, Mr. Haddock walks in first, followed by Hiccup, who’s dragging muddy feet and clutching a bottle of some kind of medicine in his hand.  He tucks it into his pocket before anyone can comment and I look away, back at the table, waiting to see if he’s going to take my usual seat on Mr. Haddock’s right. 

Gobber surprises me by sitting there before Hiccup can, and Hiccup stares at the table for a second before sitting next to Gobber, apparently choosing somewhere neutral.  I take Mr. Haddock’s left, daring anyone to mention it and hating that I’m a bit relieved when Snotlout and Tuffnut start up an under their breath conversation about the best way to get the money to enter some rodeo next month. 

“How’s your first day back in town, lad?”  Gobber starts the dinner conversation as food is handed around and Hiccup shrugs.  Rude. Again.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Anything interesting so far?” 

“Interesting,” Hiccup chuckles under his breath at an inside joke he’s decided not to share.  Probably for the best, I haven’t liked any of his other ones.  “I don’t know if that’s the word for anything.” 

“Hiccup has decided to take care of that horse,” Mr. Haddock nudges Gobber’s knee under the table, “the little black stowaway from the Hofferson herd.” 

“Not part of the herd,” I interject and Hiccup’s gaze flicks at me out of the corner of his eyes.  It makes him look even younger than he was acting earlier when he tries to be sneaky, like a kid hiding behind the curtain with feet fully exposed, and I look back at my plate. 

“A horse, huh?  That’s a pretty big commitment for day one.” 

“First of many,” Mr. Haddock encourages, and I can’t help but wonder how Hiccup would be acting if his dad weren’t being so gentle with him.  If I talked to anyone the way Hiccup has talked to his father today, I wouldn’t be seeing Stormfly for a week, let alone getting a new horse to take care of. 

Not that I’d want the black mustang anyway. 

I look at Hiccup again, the growing nagging question in the back of my mind searching for some clue as to what made that horse stop instead of plowing him down like a crooked fencepost.  His sweatshirt sleeve falls down over his skinny wrist as he limply pushes a pile of green beans around his plate, not hungry enough to ignore the taste and eat what he can get. 

“Well, I had an exciting day,” Gobber forces the table-wide conversation along even as Fishlegs and the twins try to start a separate whispered argument, “first theft at the general store in a decade.” 

“Oh?”  Hiccup shoves a forkful of green beans in his mouth and proceeds to talk with his mouth open, big city manners on full display, “guess we should call the governor and rewrite the century’s crime statistics.” 

“What happened?”  Mr. Haddock asks seriously, hand on Gobber’s knee under the table, “is everyone ok?” 

“Everyone’s fine,” Gobber shrugs and looks directly at Hiccup, “Mr. Wrigley’s still unaccounted for, but I’m working on it.” 

“Mr. Wrigley?”  Mr. Haddock looks at me like I might know who Gobber is talking about and I shrug. 

“Hiccup,” Gobber raises an eyebrow, “do you know anything about the pack of gum you stole from my store earlier?  I thought I’d start my sleuthing at the source.” 

“What?”  Hiccup chokes on a green bean and Snotlout makes no move to thump him on the back, instead cradling his elbow and shaking his head. 

“The pack of gum you took from my store when you didn’t think I was watching,” Gobber strokes his moustache. “Any news on its whereabouts?” 

“I don’t—”  He clears his throat, green eyes looking wild around the room, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Gum?  What gum?”

“Empty your pockets.”  Mr. Haddock leaves no room for argument, but Hiccup tries anyway. 

“The warden searched me at the gate, I swear, you can ask her.”  He looks at me like I have something to do with this and I try to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when I realize that he used me as a ride to steal.  From Gobber. 

“Empty your pockets.  Now.”  Mr. Haddock stands up and the room is silent except for Gobber happily snacking on a dinner roll and waiting for the drama to play out. 

The horse meds come out first, a brand-new orange bottle.  Then a thin wallet patched with duct tape. 

Then a nearly new pack of gum that Hiccup opens to demonstrate the one missing piece. 

“You see, I actually got this at the airport.  In New York, actually, because my ears always struggle to pop on the plane and don’t you just hate that—”

Mr. Haddock flips the pack of gum over to reveal the “General Store 0.99” orange sticker on the back and Hiccup’s mouth flaps a few useless times. 

“Not even a day and you’re stealing?”  The whole room flinches at Mr. Haddock’s yelling this time, except Hiccup, who just sinks down further in his chair, arms crossed, expression petulant. 

I wish that stupid horse would let me near it, just for an excuse to grab those pills and leave, to not have to see another Haddock family tussle today. 

“I didn’t think anyone was watching,” Hiccup mumbles, “I’ll pay for the gum—”

“How am I supposed to trust you?  I just loaned you money for antibiotics for that damn animal—”

“Oh, so since I stole a pack of gum you’re just going to go shoot the horse out back?  Great, that’ll teach me, really proportionate response,” Hiccup gripes as his dad takes the bottle of pills, sarcasm flat and eyes trained on the table. 

That is until his dad plops the bottle down next to my unused spoon. 

Then Hiccup’s eyes go wide.  Probably about as wide as mine. 

“I was going to try and trust you with that beast, but obviously, you aren’t responsible enough.”  Mr. Haddock stands up, plate in hand, face as red as the shag carpet downstairs, “and I’m too furious to deal with you myself, so I’m giving these to my foreman—”

“Foreman?”  The word sounds foreign in my mouth, the promotion that could convince my parents to let me stay through the year suddenly thrown into the rest of this gigantic mess. 

“My Foreman Astrid,” Mr. Haddock continues, “you do what she asks of you and when she thinks you’ve earned it, she’ll give you what the horse needs.” 

“Dad!”  Hiccup acts like he still has room to argue, even with the evidence of his illegal activity staring up at him from the center of the table. 

“It’s about time that you learn some things need to be earned.  And if you can’t earn Astrid’s trust, how are you going to re-earn mine?  Or Gobber’s?”  He exits with that, stomping into his bedroom to eat and slamming the door behind him. 

Everyone stares. 

Gobber claims the pack of gum from the center of the table and tucks it into the breast pocket of his shirt before resuming his dinner. 

“If it makes it any better, laddie, I didn’t trust you to begin with, that’s why I was watching.”  He waves his hook around by his temple, “living with all those lights on all the time does things to a person.” 

“So, it’s the lights fault?”  Hiccup asks flatly, avoiding my eyes like he apparently avoids all concept of responsibility, “can I use that?” 

“No, you can’t,” Gobber coughs, “in this case, this is entirely your fault, and if you want to help that horse, you best start asking Astrid what you can help her with.” 

I’m used to being the bad guy.  Really.  I’m the bad guy when Stormfly wants treats or when Ruffnut wants to sleep in or when Snotlout is trying to sneak out the night before we need him.  I’m the bad guy when I remind my parents that their ranch used to mean something, that Hofferson used to mean something. 

It’s second nature to stand up and pocket the pills, glancing at Hiccup’s untouched green beans before speaking. 

“After you’ve cleaned your plate, follow me out to the barn, you can help me feed.” 

“Not hungry,” he gripes, pushing the food away from him, oblivious to the way Snotlout eyes it like he’s weighing how gross it is to eat Hiccup’s food. 

“I meant at the sink.”  I look towards the kitchen then back at him. 

“Dishes?”  He raises a challenging eyebrow, “you’re not going to give me my horse’s medicine if I don’t do dishes?” 

“Among other things, I’m sure,” Gobber chirps, grinning at me even as the pill bottle feels like an anvil in my pocket. 

“I’m going to ask you to pull your own weight around here.”  I put on my best bad guy voice and Snotlout sighs, whispering behind his hand to Tuffnut. 

“Finally, she has someone else to bitch at.” 

I hate that I recognize the flash of realization across Hiccup’s face as he encounters everyone’s favorite corner.  When there are two options and one of them involves agreeing with Snotlout, there’s really only one option. 

“Fine,” he stands up, slouching to the kitchen and scraping his food into the trash before making a production over double scrubbing his plate before dropping it loudly into the drying rack. 

“You’ve got this, lassie,” Gobber tells me, unnecessarily, “a few days under your thumb will whip him right into shape.” 

“What shape?”  Snotlout snorts, flexing his bicep at Hiccup as he stalks back outside, and if weren’t directed at Snotlout, I’d call him out on the middle finger he doesn’t quite hide against his leg. 

[nothingeverlost]

Henry Gold (10/?)

Summary: Regina asked for Gold’s help in procuring a child, but when he held the wee boy in his arms he couldn’t give the child up.  Ten years later it’s Henry Gold who arrives in Boston, looking for Emma.

This chapter: A thief, punishment, ice cream, and a story of tragic love.  AKA The Skin Deep chapter.

It’s a monster at almost 11,000 words.

TW for mentions of suicide and for violence.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 /  Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

II

Gold was not the most popular person in town.  It had taken Emma less than a day to see that.  With few exceptions people seemed to avoid him unless they had dealings with him.  It was strange, really, how many people in town seemed to have dealings with a pawnbroker.  Those that interacted with him willingly seemed to do so for Henry.  After a couple of months in town she still wasn’t sure there was anyone she’d call Gold’s friend.  He’d visited someone named Jefferson a few times, but Emma hadn’t met him yet.  

She wasn’t used to seeing people yell at Gold, though.  She was on her way to the diner when she saw him crossing the street, a red-faced angry man shouting out that Gold was ‘the lowest’ and wasn’t going to get away with it.  Emma hadn’t noticed him before but she’d hardly met everyone in town.

“Isn’t that Dove driving away in the florist van?”  Emma jogged to catch up with him.  She’d met Dove a few times, and knew that he worked for Gold in some capacity.  Henry had a wooden unicorn in his room he said Dove had made for him.

 “It’s being repossessed.  French is months behind in his payments.”  Gold ignored the man still shouting.  Ignored the mayor walking their direction as well, ducking into the shop the moment he had the door opened.  Emma followed.

“You lent him money?”  There was a bank in town.  She knew that because her paychecks were direct deposited.  Filling out the paperwork had been the first time she’d used Gold’s address as her home.

“I run a pawn shop, Emma.  I lend money to a great many people.  French is simply one of them.”  Gold’s hands tightened a little when he said French’s name.  It was a small thing, but Emma noticed it out of the corner of her eye.  Money didn’t seem to phase him; she doubted he was bothered by a default on a loan.  French meant something to him.

“What are you going to do with the van?  It’s not exactly going to fit in one of the window displays.”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug.  “However if you know anyone that is in need of roses let me know.  I apparently have acquired a few.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  She wasn’t about to tell Mary Margaret.  She might get ideas, and David getting flowers delivered would not go over well at home.  “I’m going to get a coffee across the street.  Can I get you anything?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.  I’ll see you this evening.”  Without another word he vanished through the curtain to his office.  Emma left him alone, crossing the street to Granny’s.  She was unsurprised to find that David and Mary Margaret were in tables right next to each other.  

“Hey David, did you find a home for the kittens yet?”  After the storm Graham had found three abandoned kittens and after ascertaining that their mother wasn’t coming back he’d taken them to a shelter.

“Believe it or not a woman with triplet daughters came in yesterday and adopted them.  They’re going to be a birthday surprise.”  David’s grin was enthusiastic; it was impossible not to smile back at him.  Mary Margaret kept smiling at him until Emma coughed to get her attention.

“Good morning.”  

“Morning Emma.”  Mary Margaret had barely greeted her when Ruby brought over her coffee.  She put in her order of two muffins to go.

“I’m still getting to know everyone around here.  Do you by chance know anyone named French?”  Emma made sure to make it sound like a casual query.

“The florist’s name is Moe French.  I don’t think there’s anyone else in town with the name.  His place is over on Franklin.”

“He doesn’t have any family?”  It seemed kind of sad, to sell flowers to other people and have no one to bring them home to.

“I don’t remember hearing anything about a family.  He’s from Australia, so maybe he still has some back there?”  Mary Margaret’s attention wavered.  “Ashley is here with the baby.  She looks exhausted.”

Emma looked over her shoulder; she hadn’t seen Ashley since the hospital.  Sure enough it was her, pushing a stroller.  If anyone had ever needed coffee it was her.  Could you drink coffee when you were breastfeeding?  Was Ashley the type to breastfeed?  Emma didn’t have a clue.  She’d only had milk for a couple of days before it had thankfully dried up.  “Hey Ashley, how’s it going?”

“I don’t know.  The baby’s great, I love her so much, but between Sean working doubles and the baby not sleeping I haven’t had a break since I got home from the hospital.  We haven’t even had time to talk about our relationship.  He said he wants to get married but we haven’t had time to plan anything.”  Ashley collapsed into the chair David had just vacated.  “I had to get out of the house.  I don’t even know if I’m hungry.”

“You need a night out.”  Ruby apparently didn’t have any questions about if Ashley was drinking coffee.  She brought over a mug and put it in front of the blond.  “Leave the baby with Sean and we can have drinks.  Mary Margaret you could use a girls-only night, couldn’t you?  And Emma, you should totally come too.  Leave the badge at home, though.”

“Yeah, sure.”  It wouldn’t hurt to get to know people better.  It would be nice for Gold and Henry to have some time on their own too.  They didn’t need her in their space all the time.  

“Where should we…”  The ringing of her phone interrupted her question.  Since it was Graham she answered.  “Hey.”

“I just got a call from a woman named Kravitz about a disturbance next door to her.  She heard loud noises and the front door was left open.  Emma, it’s Gold’s house.”

“Crap.  I’ll go check on it.  I’ll call and let you know what’s up.”  She shoved her phone into her pocket and pushed away from the table.  The coffee was too hot for a quick gulp before she left.  She was going to miss the caffeine.

“Emma?”  Mary Margaret asked.

“Sorry, work.”  She ran out of the diner, hoping that when she got to Gold’s house it was nothing more than a prank or someone’s overactive imagination.  It helped a little, knowing that Henry was already on his way to school and Gold was at work.  But only a little.

II

Someone had broken into his home.  More importantly someone had broken into his son’s home, the place where Henry should be completely safe.  The door was ajar, just as his usually annoying but sometimes handy neighbor had informed him.  As he stepped inside he withdrew the gun he’d brought with him from the shop; he wasn’t taking any chances that someone was still around.  The first damage he saw as he rounded a corner was the smashed glass over a picture of himself and Henry from last Christmas.  Tables were overturned, things missing, but it was the empty display case that told him everything he needed to know.

Moe French was going to suffer.

When he heard a sound he turned, gun raised, and found himself facing Emma.

“You have a gun?” she asked, staring at him.

“As do you.”  He lowered his, slipping it back into the pocket of his coat after confirming the safety was on.  “I assure you it’s registered.  I keep it at the shop.”

“What happened here?”  She lowered her own, but kept it in hand as she took in the destruction around them.  “Son of a bitch.”

“It appears we’ve been robbed.  I haven’t gotten any farther in the house.  If you wouldn’t mind checking upstairs I’d appreciate it.  The sooner you do whatever you have to do legally the sooner we can get this cleaned up.  I’d rather Henry didn’t have to see it.”  He looked at the smashed photo and tightened his hand into a fist.  Bastard.

“Do you know who might have done this?”  Emma asked as she walked around broken glass.

“I haven’t a clue,” he lied.  If Emma was focused on the case she’d be less likely to get in his way.  He was going to take care of Moe French on his own.  They had things to settle between them, things that had already waited far too long.  Decades too long.

“This morning with Mr. French…”

“He’s a florist and it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.  What would he have to gain from this?  If he were to steal anything it would make the most sense to try and reclaim his van, not a few trinkets from my home.”  They were, of course, more than trinkets.  Not including the sentimental value of what was stolen, the antiques from this world and another were worth thousands.  Emma was too clever for his own good.  At least she would have no reason to suspect that Moe’s actions were aided by Regina.  He could see her fingerprints over the whole thing.  Only she knew his history and could possibly know the importance of one single teacup.

“I’ll check the rest of the house and then we can head for the station.  I need you to file a report so we know exactly what we’re looking for.”

“Emma.”  He stopped her before she headed for the stairs.  “Unless it’s necessary I’d rather Henry didn’t know.  There’s no reason for him to worry.”

“As long as this looks like it’s a one time only thing I won’t say a word,” she promised.

“It won’t be repeated,” Gold muttered under his breath.  It was a promise too.

II

“I know Gold said there’s no point looking at Moe French, but I think we have to look at him.  He sounded pretty angry this morning when Gold repossessed his van.  Is there anyone else you know that might have a reason not just to steal, but to trash the place?”  Fortunately the thief didn’t have the time or the desire to go upstairs, and the bedrooms were untouched.  It seemed odd to her that most of the house was untouched, not that she was complaining.  There wouldn’t be much to clean up and if they were lucky Henry wouldn’t have to deal with the worry and fear of knowing someone had broken into the house.

“Regina hates him, but she’s not into larceny as far as I know.  Most people around here aren’t stupid enough to try something like this, especially considering he’s the landlord for half the town.”  

“So what do we know about Moe French?  Is he…”  Emma froze when she reached her desk and found a bouquet of wildflowers in a vase. Next to the flowers was a donut, chocolate glazed but covered in red and pink sprinkles.  

“I know roses are more traditional but I’ve never been one for cultivated flowers and we’re not exactly traditional so far.  I didn’t know we’d have a case when I put them there, and I thought about moving them considering but even if we can’t do dinner tomorrow I wanted you to have flowers today.”

“Dinner?”  Emma was still stuck on the fact that he’d gotten her flowers.  From the looks of them he’d probably gone out and picked them himself.

“I thought we could try this thing I’ve heard of, they call it a date.  Sometimes it involves this thing called dinner.  It might even include this other thing called kissing.”  He wasn’t quite laughing but she could see it was close to happening.

“You’re such a dork.” Emma laughed because it was the easiest reaction.  Though they’d been taking things slow for more than one reason, Emma had expected a date at some point in the not too distant future.  When she hadn’t expected was Valentine’s Day.  No matter how much she told herself it was a day like any other it meant something.  She’d never had a date on Valentine’s Day.  It wasn’t a day you picked for a casual thing, and that’s all she’d had except for Neal.  They hadn’t been together in February; they met in the spring and by the following year she was pregnant and alone.  

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”  Graham was too damn observant and she’d been quiet for longer than she’d meant.  His hand on her cheek was warm; it wasn’t at all the way a sheriff should be touching his deputy but they were way past professional boundaries. “We can have dinner another time instead.”

“No.”  Emma shook her head.  This was Storybrooke, a place for new beginnings.  “I have the perfect dress for dinner on Valentine’s Day.  It’s red, sexy, and way easier to wear when I don’t have to worry about chasing someone in heels.”

“I promise I have no plans to run anywhere.”  His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth before he pulled away.  “I do, however, have a lot of incentive to find stolen property today so it’s wrapped up before tomorrow.  Why don’t we start with French’s flower shop?”

“Okay, but I’m not buying you any roses.”

II

Emma frowned at the loot laid out on one of the spare desks in the office.  She should be feeling better; she wasn’t even at the end of her shift and she had Gold’s stolen property back.  It certainly looked like his stuff; little statues she might call paperweights that were probably worth more than her car,  a stack of plates and three teacups, none of them the same pattern, a tapestry that might look better if it was washed, a silver tray, a wooden box.  

Something felt wrong.  She and Graham had found the stolen goods in the backroom at Game of Thorns.  It was too easy.  Nothing was hidden, but was laid out on a table as if displayed almost.  Maybe that was what bothered her.  Or maybe it was how deliberately Gold had tried to convince her that French wasn’t worth considering as a suspect.  She needed answers.

Graham was still looking for French.  She was waiting for Gold to show up.  She didn’t have long to wait; ten minutes after she called him he was striding into the station.  “Apparently your pal Moe was capable of more than you thought.”

Gold barely acknowledged her, his attention on the recovered items.  It was strange; for all that his house was cluttered he didn’t seem particularly invested in things.  When Henry had broken a china plate a few weeks ago he had only shrugged and cautioned his son not to touch any shards.  He didn’t brag about his art unless it was something Henry drew.  It never bothered him if his ties got dirty while cooking or playing.  Something about this theft, though, had him more upset than she’d seen him ever, except the day that Henry had been missing.

“Gold?”  She gave him a couple of minutes to look, but if his jaw tensed any more she didn’t know what was going to happen.  Nothing good.

“It’s not here.”  He dismissed everything on the desk curtly.

“What do you mean?  These things are yours, aren’t they?  The black lion thing is familiar, and the vase.  The cups…”

“Something is missing.”  He sounded certain.  Emma wasn’t sure how he could tell, from the mess at home, just what was missing.

“There’s a lot of things here.”  Maybe she should pick up a few of them and see if moving them around helped.  After all he hadn’t touched them.

“And none of them matter.  Where is Mr. French?”

“Graham is looking for him.  If something is missing we’ll find it, Gold.  I promise.”  She’d always prided herself on her job.  There weren’t a lot of things she was good at, but finding things was one of them.  Knowing when people were lying was another, and Gold wasn’t lying.  He was certain something was missing, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to say what.

“Not if I find it first.”  Emma looked up, staring at him sharply.  That sounded a hell of a lot like a threat.

“Gold, when you said you didn’t think French would steal from you…”  He had tried to distract her when she’d asked him about French.  He hadn’t ever outright denied that the florist could have been the thief.  She realized that now.

“He wouldn’t, not unless someone else put the idea into his head.”  He half-turned as if he was leaving.  The whole time he’d been in the station he’d barely looked at her.  It felt almost as if he was a stranger, rather than someone he’d lived with for the last four months.

“Who would do that?”  It wasn’t a guess.  He knew more than he was saying.  

“Henry’s going to be home soon, and I’d like to be there.  I’ll see you this evening.”  he acted as if he hadn’t heard her question.  

“Gold.”  It was too late.  He was gone.

II

He barely slept, watching the sun rise from his bed before giving up on the idea of more than a few restless hours.  Moe French was hiding in some hole where the Sheriff didn’t know to find him.  Gold wondered if it was self-preservation that had him cowering like a rat, or if he was simply celebrating his victory of stealing from the town bastard and lucky enough to escape Graham’s notice.

His luck wouldn’t last long.

The front parlor was restored; if one didn’t know to look for things that were currently being held at the sheriff’s station they wouldn’t know anything was missing.  Henry hadn’t noticed the absence of bric-a-brac that didn’t usually catch his attention, and the one broken picture was tucked away until a new piece of glass could be purchased.  Neither Emma nor Henry had commented on the empty display case.  Gold had been careful not to look at it when either of them were around.  After both were asleep he’d stared at it for more than an hour.

He would get his cup back, and someone would pay for the temporary loss of it.  It was the only thing he had of his Belle.

“So just how much candy do you think Henry’s going to eat today?”  Emma asked as she joined him in the kitchen.  He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there, the cold cup of tea in front of him in an annoyingly chip free cup.

“The rule in his classroom is that you bring a Valentine for everyone in the class or none at all.  So unfortunately I think the answer is quite a lot.”  If only that was his main concern tonight.  “I have a meeting tonight.  Will you be home before six-thirty?”

“I, uh…”  Emma uncharacteristically looked away. “I have a date.”

“Well well.  The sheriff, I assume?”  It took him a moment to react, to pull on a mask and play at the banter that would usually come so easily.  He was honestly happy for her, and if it came to it for the sheriff as well.  He was a good man, too long a prisoner of the queen.  They both deserved the happiness that he never expected to have.

“Yeah.  We’re, I don’t know, doing dinner or something.  If nothing comes up.”  She frowned.  “It could wait, though, if you need me to watch Henry.”

“I’m certain Ms. Lucas doesn’t have plans for the evening.  She’s always glad to spend time with Henry.  You go on your date.”  He had things to do, but he forced himself to take a breath and slow down.  Emma was important because of Henry and the curse, but she was important as herself as well.  Perhaps in the beginning he had only cared because she was useful, but she’d become a friend in her own right.  “Don’t let the paper cupids and heart decorations seem more important than they are.  It’s just a day.  When other people make a lot of it there can be pressure, but tonight should simply be about the two of you being able to talk to each other.  To share stories that get missed when daily routine and work get in the way.  Just focus on that and don’t think about the rest.”

“Yeah, okay.  Thanks.”  She smiled a little, still restless but hopefully feeling better.  Gold nodded and returned his focus to the tea he was making.  He honestly hoped for the best for Emma’s date, but mostly he was glad it meant the only law in town would be nicely distracted tonight.  

II

Gold would have preferred to make his purchases with no one around.  Mr. Clark, he knew, wouldn’t say anything.  The man wasn’t very smart in any realm, but he was smart enough not to make any comments.  David was a less certain element.  In another time and place he would have been full of questions.  Somehow the prince had always been able to get him talk about things he never had any intention of talking about.  He’d actually confided in Charming more than once despite himself.  Perhaps it had something to do with the fraternity of men who raised sheep.  

He didn’t seem to be quite so curious here.  Nolan, as he was apparently known in this world, didn’t ask about the rope and tape.  He seemed more distracted by the cards in his hand.  Two of them, for two very different women.  Not surprising.  

“Couldn’t make up your mind?”  He couldn’t resist commenting on the cards; each one for a wife, though he didn’t know it.  It amused him that one featured a castle that might be a cartoonist’s drawing of David’s home.

“They’re both so us.”  The prince hesitated slightly.  He’d had time to settle into his life since waking up, but he knew from a few comments Emma had made and his own observations that his interest in Mary Margaret hadn’t dimmed since the day they ‘met.’

“You’re lucky to have someone that loves you so much.”  Kathryn, of course, was under a spell but Snow White’s love was strong enough to battle a curse.  He was certain that Regina was raging over the rumors of the two.

“I’m lucky for a lot of reasons.”  Gold had to smile at the sentiment coming from the recent coma patient.  He didn’t know how lucky he really was, to be not only alive but awake.  To have his love so very close.  And his daughter as well.  Gold almost laughed when it occurred to him that Henry was the grandson of the princeling behind him in line.  Henry could do worse than having Charming as a grandfather.

“Love is like a delicate flame. And once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.”  They’d spoken of lost love once before, when the pain was more raw but no less intense.  Just as then he knew that Charming, at least, still had a chance.  “Cherish what you have.”

Gold carried his purchases out to the parking lot, where the garishly painted van waited for him.  He had some hunting to do.

I

Emma was really glad both Gold and Henry had left for the evening when she came down the stairs.  She was nervous enough without any comments about her dress or questions about where they were going.  She liked Graham.  Really liked him.  She couldn’t remember when she liked someone so much, which was a lie but one she could live with.  Honestly it might be easier if she didn’t care so much.  Graham’s friendship and their working relationship meant too much to her to screw it up, and once dating and sex came into the picture she always screwed things up.

And that wasn’t even taking into account his recent dating past and near-fatal heart attack.

Was it too late to cancel?  She’d half convinced herself to head upstairs and change when a knock on the door stopped her.  Too late.  She opened the door to find Graham standing on the front porch, wearing a suit of light gray, his top button undone and no tie in sight.  He held a small stuffed wolf.

“Wow.”  It was the first thing he said, and certainly not the worst reaction.  She knew the red dress fit her well, and it certainly wasn’t like anything he’d seen her in.

“Is that for me?”  He didn’t seem inclined to say much, so she pointed to the stuffed animal.

“I didn’t want to do flowers again and I thought this would be funny because you know, you followed the wolves with me and everything, but now that I say that I worry that it’s weird.  Or lame.  Is it lame?”  She wondered if he was aware that as he looked at her he was petting the stuffed animal.

“It’s sweet.”  She’d had a stuffed tiger once, something some foster parent had probably given her.  It had lasted a couple of houses before it had gone missing or been left behind in one of her many moves.  Her blanket was the only thing she’d managed to hold onto from her childhood.  No one since had given her a stuffed toy.  “Henry will get a kick out of naming him for me.”

“Is he here?”

“Nope, he’s having dinner at the diner with Granny.  Gold is… somewhere.”  Emma frowned.  Gold had been acting weird ever since the robbery, and she didn’t love how vague he’d been about his evening activities.  He’d been pacing for a good half hour before he’d left to drop off Henry.

“Yeah, I knew that actually.  I saw him when I was coming over here.  Weird thing is, he was driving the Game of Thorns van.  If he was moving things around for the shop I didn’t figure he had Henry with him, so I thought maybe…”

“You saw him with the van?”  Emma’s bad feeling got worse.  They still hadn’t found Moe French and Gold still insisted that something stolen from him was missing.  Something he refused to talk about.  “What way was he heading?”  

“Northwest, towards the bridge I think.  Maybe he’s just parking the van somewhere French can’t find it and take it back?”  Graham still had the stuffed animal in his hands.  Emma took it, and wished she could do more than toss it on a hall table; she didn’t want him to think it didn’t matter.  But she had a feeling in her gut that something was very wrong.

“Gold’s cabin is out that way.  I’m sorry if you made reservations but I think we need to drive by and see if there’s anything going on we need to know about.”  It would be embarrassing if she showed up and Gold was there doing something completely normal, and she had to explain why she’d taken her date out to the cabin.  It would be just as weird if she and Graham showed up to an empty place in the middle of nowhere.  But she had to take the risk.  

“You might want to change your shoes first,” he pointed out, looking down at her heels.  Emma sighed.

II

“I’m sorry.”  She might have been on the verge of canceling the date, but that hadn’t been about him.  Well, only in the fear of ruining their relationship sort of way.  But he’d dressed up and made plans, and since he’d been with Regina for so long and she was a manipulative bitch it was a pretty good chance he hadn’t made date plans in a really long time.

“Our job is important.  Besides, if we miss dinner there’s still dessert and that’s the best part of a meal.”  Graham drove to the cabin without asking any questions about where it was.  Emma had to wonder if he’d been there or he just knew.  When they rounded the last corner the van was like a beacon in front of the cabin, despite the shadows.  Somehow she had known it would be there.  Weirdly, though, there weren’t any lights on inside.

“I’ll go first.  Give me a minute, okay?”  Her shoes might be sensible, but she was still wearing the red dress under her winter coat and it felt familiar.  Uncomfortably familiar, like the last months hadn’t happened and she was still skip tracing.  But Gold wasn’t a bounty, he was a friend.  And he might not be doing anything more than stashing extra storage at the cabin.  Emma left her gun in her pocket and proceeded with caution.

The door was unlocked.  She didn’t have to wonder if he was in the cabin.

“She’s gone forever – she’s not coming back. And it’s your fault! Not mine! You are her father!”  She couldn’t call it shouting.  It wasn’t loud.  It was painful.  Emma stepped into the room and found Gold leaning over Moe French, the cane she’d seen used as an aid to walk now used as a weapon to hit the larger man despite the fact he was tied up.  

Shit.

“It’s your fault.”  When he swung his arm backward to inflict another blow Emma was able to grab the cane.

“Stop.”  It was only another moment before Graham ran into the room.  Gold tugged once against the cane before half-turning and making eye contact with her.  The fight seemed to fade at that moment.  It was the first time she’d ever thought that he looked old.  She looked at her partner.  So much for their date.  “I think we’re going to need an ambulance.”

“Do you want to wait with him while I sort out the rest of this?”  Graham stared at Gold, somehow not seeming very surprised by what he had done to Moe French.

“I’m not that great with blood and I think Gold and I have things we need to talk about.  I’ll see you at the station?”  It would be easy to hand things over to Graham.  It wouldn’t be right.

“Yeah.”  Graham nodded as he knelt down at the wounded man’s side.  It was probably a bad time to notice how nice his ass looked in the dress pants, but she had been in date mode half an hour ago.  Emma looked at the door, and then at Gold.  

“I’m going to let go of your cane now.  I get that it works pretty well as a weapon but let’s not right now, okay?”  She wasn’t really worried, except that Gold still didn’t seem very focused.  She needed to make sure he knew that she wasn’t a threat.  “We should go outside.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”  He didn’t look in Moe’s direction before walking out the door.  Emma followed.

“I’m glad I was.  Things looked pretty bad in there, Gold.  It’s going to be hard enough to explain to Henry that I had to arrest you for assault.  I’m glad to avoid the murder charge.”  Would he have gone that far?  After seeing him with the cane she didn’t know.

“You could just not arrest me.”  Gold made the comment as he looked at the dark forest, but he didn’t sound like he considered it to be possible.

“French is going to have to go to the hospital, and there are going to questions. You know I can’t do that.”

“If you left me alone with him for another minute it wouldn’t be an issue.  Do you really think anyone would miss him?”

“You don’t really mean that.”  But when he looked at her Emma had to quell a shiver.  The wild rage from earlier was gone, but she could see the anger still.  Colder now, but no less lethal.  “We should go before the ambulance arrives.  I don’t have to do the whole handcuff thing, do I?”  

“Where would I possibly go?  I’m not abandoning my son.”  She couldn’t go so far as having him in the front seat, though. She held open the back door for him, waiting until he was settled before closing it.  He was silent for the brief ride to the sheriff’s station.  Fortunately it was late enough that the street was almost empty; anyone on Main Street was settled in a restaurant or the ice cream parlor, enjoying their happy little dates.  She wondered which restaurant she was supposed to be at right now. Emma frowned when she took off her coat and looked down at the red dress.

“So, first time in a cell?”  She tried a bad joke, to break the thaw in the room.  It was the first time she’d locked anyone in a cell before.  Figured she couldn’t have an easy first time.

“You’d be surprised.”  She half expected him to pace the small space, but he settled on the edge of the cot.  

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?”  Emma settled on the arm of the couch, facing him.  There was paperwork, but that could wait.  Besides, a lot of it depended on French’s prognosis and if he was pressing charges.

“You’re far too much like Henry to be content if I said no.”  Gold sighed.  “What do you want to know?”

“You were beating up a man without any plan to stop, Gold.  And I get it, he stole from you but I don’t think that’s what this was about.”  She had been shocked by what she’d seen, and how out of control Gold had been when he usually seemed, if anything, too reserved.  Now that she had time to process everything she remembered the words he had used.  “You said it was his fault, that someone wasn’t coming back.   French has a kid?”

“Had.   She…”   He looked down at the floor, drawing in a breath slowly before looking up at her.  Emma winced, pretty sure she knew what came next.  “She died.”

“She mattered to you.”  She stopped shy of asking if he loved her.  She remembered what it felt, the first time she’d woken up in a bed with Neal wrapped around her, and the moment she realized he wasn’t coming back.  She remembered what it felt like when she let down her guard and kissed Graham for the first time, and the fear when she was certain he was dying.  The pain and love she could all but feel radiating from Gold felt like something beyond that.  

“I loved her more than I thought I was capable of loving.  When I met her I had been dead inside for such a long time and she brought me back to life.  But I didn’t trust it.  She was so beautiful here.” He touched his chest just above his heart.  “So kind and smart and wonderful.  Why would she want to be with someone like me?”

“What did Moe French think of you and his daughter?”  She didn’t know much about French, but clearly something had gone pretty badly.

“He hated me from the moment we met.  We had a fight.  I knew one day she would figure out that she was too good for me so I drove her away before she could leave me.  She was young and beautiful, she’d find someone else who could love her better.  Someone who could give her more.  She went to her father but he hated me so much he wouldn’t accept her even when it was over.  He said things to her. Cruel things.  And then he told her she was no longer his daughter.  My Belle.”  She could see the tears in his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t let them fall.  Not while she was watching.

“Where did she go?”  Graham would have mentioned if French had a daughter in town, even if they were estranged. She waited a full minute before speaking, gently reminding him that she was still waiting.  “Gold?”

“She was found in the river on a Monday.  Her neck was broken.  A witness said she jumped off the bridge.”  Once he stopped speaking he seemed completely motionless.  Not just still, but as if he was a statue or a toy with the batteries taken out.

“I…”  She’s gone forever, he had said.  Not coming back.  For all that he had yelled at Moe as he beat the other man, Emma had to wonder how much of that rage had been aimed at himself.  

“You should go get Henry.  It’s past his bedtime already.”  Gold spoke in carefully measured words.

“I can call Ruby, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping him for the night.”  It might be the easiest thing to do, and they had extra rooms at the B&B.  

“You don’t want him to find out about this from someone else, and he deserves to sleep in his own bed.  Please.”  Gold’s eyes flicked in her direction briefly.  

“I don’t know if I should leave you alone.” He might not be interested in talking any more but that didn’t mean he needed to be alone.  And telling Henry she’d arrested his dad wasn’t going to be the most fun conversation she’d had today, which was saying something.

“I’m not going to try and escape.”

“I never thought you would.”  Strangely, for a moment she remembered how worried Henry had been about his friends leaving town.  No one could leave, he’d said.  It was nonsense, of course.

“I’m not going to do anything else either.  If it would make you feel better you can have my belt and shoelaces, though.”  He leaned his head against the back wall, his eyes closed and his voice drained of emotion.

“I don’t know what to say to him.”  She’d arrested his dad.  No matter how close they were going or what Gold had done she couldn’t imagine Henry was going to understand that.

“Nothing can prepare you for moments like this when you’re a parent.  You just have to figure it out as you go and hope for the best.”

“I’m not a parent.”  She’d never thought of herself that way, not even when she was pregnant.  Even a moment’s daydream would have made it too hard to do what she’d needed to do.  “Giving birth doesn’t make anyone a parent.”

“Being a parent has nothing to do with biology.  You told him you would stay for a day.  It’s been four months.  Why are you still here, Emma?”  She was surprised to find he was looking at her.  Emma blinked, unable to think of anything to say.  “He trusts you and he knows you’ll keep him safe.  Right now that matters more than anything.  Go home, Emma.  Henry needs you.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Even with everything else happening he put Henry first.  As much as she dreaded it, she couldn't do less.  Emma reluctantly stood up.  “I’m sorry about Belle.”

He didn’t say a word as she left.

I

“You look like you could use a drink.  How about I pour you one and then I can tell you all about how Sean showed up and proposed to Ashley.  It was pretty sweet.”  Ruby picked up a glass but Emma shook her head.

“I just came to pick up Henry.”  The truth was she would love a drink.  She was more interested in some solitude to work through what she’d learned tonight, though, then pretending to be interested in Ashley’s love life.  And she really didn’t want to answer questions about her own Valentine’s date.

“He just finished up an ice cream sundae; Granny took his dish before he could lick it clean.  He’s in the back booth.”  Ruby nodded towards the back of the diner.  Emma frowned when she saw that he wasn’t alone.  The annoying stranger in leather was sitting with him.  She was about the head back when her phone rang.  She only answered it because it was Graham.

“Hey.”

“You still at the station?”

“No, I’m taking Henry home.  I didn’t know where blankets and things were, though, if you don’t mind stopping by and checking on things.”  She was careful, no matter how softly she was speaking, not to say anyone’s name.  It wasn’t going to keep quiet for long, not in this town, but she needed to talk to Henry alone.

“Yeah, I’m about to head out of here.  French has a broken arm and a couple of cracked ribs.  He’s going to have some humdinger bruises tomorrow.  All in all he’s pretty lucky.”

“Sure, everyone’s lucky tonight.”  She shook her head.  “I’ll talk to you later, okay? And I’ll pick up the donuts tomorrow.”

“Guess we’ll need an extra one.”  Emma could hear the faint sound of someone being paged in the background.  “And Emma?  I really liked the dress.”

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he hung up.  She had some thinking to do, about if she really would have canceled the date.  About what she wanted.  About if he was going to see the little red dress again.  That all had to wait.

“Hey Emma.  Is dad with you?  We could have an ice cream before we go home.”

“Nice try, kid.  Even if Ruby hadn’t ratted you out I can see the chocolate in the corner of your mouth.”  She debated asking the stranger why he was talking to Henry, but she didn’t have the energy for another conversion where she had no idea what was happening.  Instead she nodded her head with the barest acknowledgment and ignored the way he was looking at her dress.  “Your dad asked me to pick you up.  It’s past your bedtime.”

“Dad’s not home yet?”  As usual the kid was way too clever, already suspecting something was wrong.

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get home, okay?”  She might not know much about being a parent, but she knew a lot about needing privacy when rugs got pulled out from under you.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Emma glanced at the stranger who was way too interested in their conversation.  The diner was empty enough that not many other people were around. Henry loved his spy stories and often pretended he was on secret missions.  Emma decided to use it to her advantage.  “There’s some stuff happening but it’s code word clearance only.”

“Okay.”  Henry bit his lower lip as he slid from the booth and followed her to the front door.  He was preoccupied enough that he didn’t notice he’d forgotten his backpack, which had somehow moved from his side of the table to the floor next to the stranger, along with the book inside.

On the short ride home Henry was quiet, looking out the window until they pulled into the driveway.  His silence ended about two seconds after Emma closed and locked the front door.

“Where’s my dad?” 

“Let’s sit down.”  Emma would have loved a minute to run upstairs and change into something more comfortable, but it wasn’t like anything about the next couple of minutes was going to be comfortable.

“The only time dad doesn’t come home at night is when he’s at the cabin and he always takes me.”  When Emma sat down on the sofa he didn’t join her, but remained standing.  “What happened?”

“Have you ever gotten in trouble at school?”  She doubted it.  Mary Margaret’s concerns were usually about him being too quiet.  He didn’t take after her, fortunately, in that regard.  Thirteen different schools and she’d been sent to the principal in all but two of them.

“One time dad had to pick me up because I got into a paint fight with someone who ruined my art project.  It was a Mother’s Day card.”  Emma closed her eyes for a moment.  Crap.  She remembered plenty of mom and dad gifts made in art class.  She’d dreaded those holidays.

“When you get in trouble at school you have to go see the principal.  Me and Graham, we’re sort of like the principals for the town.  We help people when they need us, and when people are fighting we have to tell them to stop.”

“My dad was fighting?”  Henry sounded as surprised as Emma had felt.  “He never fights.  He usually says bad things about people after they leave if he’s mad.”

“He got in a fight this time.”  Which wasn’t really accurate, considering the rope and tape that had bound his opponent, but she didn’t need to get into details.

“Emma, is my dad in time out?”  Henry finally sat next to her, turned slightly so their knees touched.

“You could say that.”  It sure sounded better than ‘hey kid, I arrested your dad.’

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, Henry.  Graham and I are going to have to figure that out.  But he’s not hurt and he’s safe.  He���s just going to have to stay at the station for a little while.”  She hoped ‘little while’ was at least close to the truth.  She didn’t know what she was going to do if they had to hold Gold for any length of time.  They didn’t have the facilities for a longer jail sentence and she didn’t have the ability to parent full time. Henry didn’t deserve that. 

“He’s in one of the jail cells, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”  Emma nodded reluctantly.

“Can I see him?”  Henry, who usually sounded old for his age, suddenly sounded young.  

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, okay?  Right now you need to get to bed.”  She couldn’t imagine he’d fall asleep anytime soon.  She knew she wouldn’t.  Maybe she’d call Graham and check in one last time for the night.  Maybe they wouldn’t just talk about work.

Maybe she’d have that drink she couldn’t accept from Ruby.

“Are you going back to work?”  Henry leaned in, his head on her shoulder.

“Not tonight.  I’m staying right here, okay?  You’re not going to be alone.”  She could promise that much, at least.

II

The jail cell in Storybrooke’s sheriff’s station had more to recommend it than the dungeon under Snow White’s castle.  It was cleaner, better lit, and the cot was more comfortable.  That didn’t mean Gold was any happier about being behind bars.  He didn’t blame Emma, no matter how inconvenient her timing had been the night before.  No, the blame was split between Moe French and Regina.  Moe French had taken the only thing he had left of his Belle.  And he was certain that Regina was behind it.

His cup.  It had been enshrined in his great hall for almost six years before the curse began.  In this world it sat alone on the shelf of a display case.  Like shadows from a dream he could remember his Belle dropping it in this world as well, her soft fingers caressing the broken bit.  He could remember her being in his home, long before Henry entered his life.  Curled up on the couch with a book from his library.  Teasing him in the kitchen.  Dancing with him in the garden.  He knew it was all a lie, memories created by the curse, but like a double-exposed picture they were hard to separate from the real memories of a castle a world away.

When he had told Emma of the version of his Belle this world remembered he could see her walking down the steps of the pink house for the last time.  He could remember the pale pallor of her skin when he had visited the morgue.  Her father had refused to identify the body.  There were many nights he’d stood on the bridge and thought about joining her, but he was too much of a coward.  The memories were not real, he knew now, but the guilt and rage were no different here then they were in another world.  

“You don’t look like you got much sleep.”  The sheriff was back not long after the sun rose.  He’d offered to stay the night, but Gold preferred the time alone.  

“No offense, but the accommodations don’t suit me.”  He wasn’t sure if he’d slept at all, or had only dreamed while still being awake.  It didn’t matter.  

“Leroy doesn’t tend to complain.  He snores, though.”  To Gold’s surprise Graham approached the cell with two paper cups in hand.  The one he handed off through the bars smelled herbal.  He wouldn’t have thought Graham knew or cared enough to bring tea rather than coffee.

“Yes, well not all of us can fall into a drunken stupor.”  He’d seen the dwarf around town, his grumpiness taking on a harder edge being separated from his brothers.  The only thing he and Leroy had in common, however, was a dislike for the local nuns.  “I don’t suppose you have a place to shower this morning?”

“Sorry, not right now but we’ll figure that out.”  Graham crossed the room to his office, shedding his jacket and leaving his coffee on his desk.  He was back a moment later with a second offering.  Gold frowned in confusion at the walkie talkie.

“Why?”  He didn’t reach out to take it.

“Someone wants to talk to you.  Channel four.”  Graham turned it on and held it through the bars again.

“Dad?”  The sound of static was soon replaced by the voice he wanted to hear the most, and most dreaded.  He snatched the walkie talkie from Graham’s grasp and pulled it close.

“Henry.”  His son had spent the night without him.  Only a handful of times in the boy’s life had that happened.  “How are you son?”

“I’m fine.  Emma said I have to go to school.  She made breakfast but the toast got burned.  We’re having cereal.”  Cereal was a rare treat; he didn’t think it was hearty enough to get a growing boy through the hours to lunch.  It didn’t matter today; he knew Emma was doing her best.

“Emma’s right.  School is important.”  He knew that Mary Margaret would keep a close eye on him.  She loved the boy, somehow instinctively knowing that he mattered more to her then she knew.  

“I want to come see you but Emma said after school  Are you really in jail?  Emma said you got in a fight with someone.  Were they a bad guy, like Saruman?”

“No, not like that.”  If he only knew that it was his dad that had more in common with Saruman.  “I got angry at someone I knew a long time ago, who hurt someone I cared about.  But that doesn’t make what I did okay.  Fighting is wrong, Henry.”

“Unless you’re protecting someone else, right dad?”

“If it’s really about protection,” he agreed.  Like Bae, his Henry was already more of a hero than his father.

“But you were just fighting and that’s why Emma had to put you in time out, right dad?”

For the first time in more than a day Gold laughed.  Time out brought up an image of Henry, three years old and covered in cocoa powder, trying to make his own drink after he’d been told no.  “Yes, Henry.”

“Emma says it’s time to go, dad.  You’ll be home soon, won’t you?”

“Let Emma know if there’s anything you need right now, son.  I’ll see you soon.”  He couldn’t lie, and he didn’t have an answer.  His anger had gotten the best of him, and he didn’t yet know the cost.  “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, dad.”  The walkie talkie returned to static.  Gold turned it off and set it down on the cot next to him.  Graham had retreated to his office, giving him at least the illusion of privacy.  He looked up and found the sheriff bent over paperwork.  For a man currently without a heart he was kinder than most people Gold knew.  He would have to find a way to thank him.

II

“You were supposed to go on a date last night.”  By mid-afternoon Gold was going stir crazy.  It took a lot of willpower not to pace the small space he was allotted.  At least he hadn’t started trying to climb the walls.  He’d done that once upon a time; it wasn’t a good thing.  His day had been broken up very little.  There had been a donut for breakfast and a pastrami sandwich for lunch. Other than that there had been a few conversations and a great deal of staring at the clock.  Graham had escorted him to the bathroom a few times, the extent of his freedom.  The station didn’t have a shower, though, and he still wore the suit he’d put on the day before.  “Another regret from last night.”

“I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”  The moment she spoke Emma’s face went carefully blank.  He knew that look.  She hadn’t meant to say that.  Suddenly the papers on her desk seemed very interesting from the focus she was giving them.

“Having second thoughts about the sheriff?”  He’d been gone the past hour with some vague mention of ‘rounds’ which might have been true or might have been about giving them some privacy to talk about Henry and how he was coping.  Gold hadn’t noticed anything unusual between the two of them.

“More like second thoughts about me.”  Emma gave up the pretense and came to sit on the edge of the sofa.  “It’s not the date, it’s what comes next.”

“A second date?”  He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, waiting.  He had a pretty good idea what she meant.

“Two dates I can handle.  Maybe even three.  But after that it’s not just going out on a date.  It’s something more.  Graham is a really great guy whose last relationship was really bad.  He doesn’t need another disaster.”

“And you’re certain it would be a disaster?”  ‘You could’ve had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn’t take the chance.’  He could almost hear Belle, from a lifetime and a world away.  She would have believed in Emma and the Sheriff.

“It always is.  Casual I can manage.  Anything else and I fuck it up.”

“You haven’t fucked up anything with Henry.  And while I can’t say much for your accommodations here I have no other complaints about you as a houseguest.”

“It’s not the same.  Plus the fact that I haven’t messed up too badly with Henry yet just means the other shoe hasn’t fallen.”

“Emma, there’s no one in the world I would trust with Henry more than you.”  She didn’t see herself as a mother, not yet, but he could see it.  It hurt to know that there might be a time when he was no longer the best parent for Henry, but at least he knew his son would have a fierce protector in his mother.  “If anything were to happen to me…”

“You haven’t even been in here for a day yet, Gold.  Let’s not get all dramatic.”  Never overly comfortable with emotions, Emma shifted slightly.  Gold could almost see the wall building around her.  He knew a lot about walls.

“I shut out love when it was mine for the taking, Emma.  And love is like a delicate flame.  You can’t turn smoke back into fire.  When it’s gone it’s gone”  She looked so much like her father.  He almost shook his head at the irony of giving them both advice in the same twenty-four hours.  “One of us should learn a lesson from all this, and I’m afraid that it’s too late for me.  It’s not too late for you.”

“I should call Graham.  To find out when he’s going to be back,” she clarified.  “It’s almost time to go pick up Henry.”

“Of course.”  There was nothing else for him to say.  Perhaps he’d said too much already.

Emma made her call and stayed at her desk, making it clear she wasn’t going to be talking anymore.  Perhaps he’d ask Emma to pick up a few books when she took Henry home.  It would at least alleviate a little of the monotony.  He would need to start putting together his legal defense, at least.  He was about to ask when Regina walked into the station.

Damn.  If there were going to be bars between them he'd prefer she was the one on the inside.

“Deputy Swan, you may go.  I need a moment alone with your prisoner.”  She walked through the station as if she was still royalty.

“I’m not going anywhere.”  It was nice to see, the way she stood between his cell and Regina.  Nice, but not conducive to learning what Her Majesty wanted.  She hadn’t set Moe French up simply for a laugh.

“It’s time to pick up my son, Emma.  Why don’t you take him out for an ice cream?”  He couldn’t help rubbing it in that Henry was his child.  Regina had been desperate to be a mother once, a fate he was always glad Henry had avoided.  Regina didn’t treat her possessions any better than she treated her enemies.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.”  He knew her concern for him was genuine, but as she looked over at the doorway he knew that she was worried about more than just him.  Graham should be back any minute.  All the more reason to get their little talk over with.

“She can’t do anything but talk, and that’s nothing to worry about.  You can bring me back a cone.”  He smiled to reassure her.

“Run along dear,” Regina commented dismissively.  A poor decision on her part since it almost made Emma change her mind.  After a moment’s hesitation, though, she went for her coat.

“Just this once,” she said as she left.  Gold waited a moment before saying anything.

“Come to test out your reelection speech on a captive audience, Madame Mayor?”

“Perhaps I just came to admire the view.  I could get used to this.”  When she smiled she was every inch the evil queen.

“Please, sit.”  He was careful not to use the trick too often, but the fact that she was forced to comply wiped the grin off her face.  She sat on the edge of the couch where Emma had been not long ago.

“I heard you did quite a number on that poor florist.  At least you didn’t break his legs; it would be tragic if he had to walk with a limp.”  As usual Regina was not subtle, going for the easy hits.

“There’s no reason to start pretending you care about anyone else, dearie.  Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”  When she glanced at her purse he knew.  Relief flooded him.  “When two people both want something the other has, a deal can always be struck. Do you have what I want?”

“Yes.”  She was so smug, so proud of herself.  He was reminded of a child figuring out a task on their own for the first time.

“So, you did put him up to it.”  He’d only had a small flicker of doubt.  On his own Maurice might have smashed up his house.  Might even have stolen.  He wouldn’t have gone after the cup.  He had no way of knowing the significance.

“I merely suggested that strong men take what they need.”  He almost laughed at Moe French being called a strong man.  He was a weak and insignificant person.  How his Belle had come from such a man he didn’t know.

“And you told him just exactly what to take.”  She had been more observant than he had realized, to understand the significance of his cup.  

“We used to know each other so well, Mr. Gold.”

“Did we?”  He understood her.  She was the worst he’d ever done, molding her into the darkness he needed.  The curse castor and the curse breaker, two women he’d manipulated into being.  Both so hurt by his actions.  But while Emma had his guilt and sorrow, Regina had his scorn.  He understood her, but she didn’t know more than a fraction of who he was.  “I know you well enough to know you have what I want.  The question is what you want in return.”

Her eyes narrowed.  He wasn’t playing her game.  She wanted to gloat. But she wanted something else and that was what he needed to know, almost as much as he needed his treasure returned.  “I don’t have all day, dearie.  If you’re not interested in a trade…”

“I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply.  What’s your name?”

“It’s Mr. Gold.”  So that was her game.  He hadn’t expected that, and had to work hard to sound as if he didn’t have a clue what she meant.  It seemed his four-month advantage had come to an end.  She knew that she wasn’t the only person who remembered.

“Your real name.”

“Every moment I’ve spent on this earth, that’s been my name.”  He was stalling, trying to figure out the best way to play her and still get what he wanted. The fact that he was so clearly frustrating her was just a bonus.

“But what about moments spent elsewhere?”  He wondered how long she had suspected.  Did she know that he was the one that had hit her when she was trying to kill Graham?  Did she think that he had known the whole time?  

“What are you asking me?”

“I think you know. If you want me to return what’s yours tell me your name.”  She knew.  There was no way he could deny it.  All he could do was use it.

“Rumpelstiltskin.”  With a single word he could feel Mr. Gold and all his illusions of humanness shed.  Decades fell away and he was in another cell hidden in a cave, feeling the bitter taste of an almost victory that would destroy everything he knew.  When he grasped the bars he could almost feel the crackle of unusable magic under his skin.  “Now give me what I want.”

“Such hostility.”  Like a child poking a dangerous animal she couldn’t resist baiting him.  She probably thought she was hiding the fear in her eyes.

“Oh, yeah.”  He wanted her to be afraid.  He needed it, to make sure she didn’t come near those he cared about.  She had played her role in taking his Belle.  She wouldn’t endanger Henry.  He needed Emma safe too; the curse would be pointless without the Savior.

“Over this?”  When he took the cup from his purse he stared at it, hating her fingerprints in the same place where Belle’s had once been.  He forgot to breathe.  At least he knew she hadn’t destroyed it.   “Such a sentimental little keepsake.”

“Thank you Your Majesty.”  The moment it was close enough he snatched it, pulling it from her hold.  He slunk back from the bars and cradled it carefully in his hands.  Other than the chip it was undamaged.   Belle’s cup, safe again in his possession.  He took a breath and pulled his gaze from it.  Regina was already too aware of its significance.  He looked at her.  “Now that we’re being honest with each other, let’s remember how things used to be, shall we? And don’t let these bars fool you, dear. I’m the one with the power around here. I’m going to be out of here in no time, and nothing between us will change.”

It was a promise.  It was a threat.  And though he’d long since abandoned any gods it was a prayer.

“We shall see.”  Always one to feel like she had the last word, Regina was quick to leave.

Gold starred at his treasure until he heard voices.  Graham, Emma, and Henry all entered the station at the same time, just a moment after Gold slipped the cup into his pocket.  He’d rather avoid explaining it.

“Dad.”  Henry raced for the cell, his hands touching the same bars Gold had held onto just minutes ago.  

“Henry.”  He was grateful to see his son, as much as he hated that Henry would forever have the image of jail bars in his head now.

“We were afraid a cone would make a mess.”  Emma unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, handing Gold a paper cup with a scoop of ice cream inside.  He was certain the rainbow sprinkles were Henry’s doing.  “If I leave the door open you’re not a flight risk, right?  I think someone might like to keep you company.”

“Can I really?”  Henry looked up at Emma, eyes shining bright and the remains of ice cream on his lip.

“I can’t see that it would hurt anything.  I’ve got some paperwork to do.”  She tried to head for her desk, but Henry stopped her with a fierce hug around her waist.  Emma stiffened briefly before relaxing and returning the hug.  “Go on, kid.  I think your dad could use one of those.”

Henry ran into the cell and flung himself at his dad.  Gold pulled him onto his lap, careful of the cup in his pocket, and held him tight.  One love was lost to him forever.  One son was still out of his reach.  But he still had Henry.  “My boy.”

[chimaeracabra]

My dad ACTUALLY gave me (some of) the money I still owe on my student account for grad school. My account has about $3,200 to pay. 

He claimed he would give me this money in installments. Yesterday he actually gave me a $500 check. I was going to go and cash it this morning and call my school and have them get at least that much for now. But when I went to check my online banking today, I saw a charge for $53.11 from a Best Buy in Minnesota. I do not live in Minnesota, and I certainly did not purchase anything from Best Buy yesterday. So, of course I called to refute that transaction. They are freezing my account and sending me a new card, which I should receive in 4-6 business days. So, that’s good. And they’re reimbursing me for that transaction.

 And then I got to thinking about it more and wonder if somehow, that was supposed to be what I purchased yesterday from Sephora…I went and looked at my receipt for that, and it came up to around $52 and some change, but that should not have shown up on my account at all because I signed up for the store credit card to get the discount to $45 on what I bought. I have had store credit cards in the past, and I can’t recall seeing any transactions in my banking until I actually receive and pay the bill later on for whatever I purchased on my store credit card. So, I think I was right to contest the transaction. Because if it was about what I purchased yesterday, wtf didn’t it come up as Sephora? Something is fishy. But now I’m annoyed because I wanted to make a payment to my school so they know I don’t fuck around, and really the only reason there is even an outstanding bill is due to the fact that I have already requested as much as I could in federal loans, and the remainder is on my account. I don’t have enough in savings to pay my entire bill and still be able to buy necessities (food, tampons, etc.)

 Sigh. I would just be really fucking happy if I managed to somehow come across $1,000,000. Not even just for material needs, it would seriously help me out and pay off all my current student loans and then some.

I will quite literally NEVER forgive my narcissistic father for spending his entire marriage married to my mom withholding more than $1,000,000 in offshore accounts, because he could literally have paid every penny of my education so that I wouldn’t have had to sit here with student fucking loan debt. He could have quite literally paid my twin’s entire medical school tuition, and then a little bit of my little sister’s undergraduate tuition.

I’m not a shithead kid. I and my sister have been working our fucking asses off to be successful, and the least my asshole dad could have done is paid our education in full so we wouldn’t be worried and stressed about it. But instead, he decided to blow money he should have been spending on his children on strippers and God knows what the fuck else. I will literally never, ever forgive him for his bullshit. He is a classic narcissist. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hands, but I KNOW that everything he does is a manipulation fucking tactic. Because he got the money from my mom’s pension (money he does NOT fucking deserve) earlier this summer, it shouldn’t have taken him this fucking long to give me any of it, after I explained to him I took out all the loans I can and need more help. And he should have given me the full amount I need for my student account. I KNOW he has decided to give me the money in installments because he wants to keep me needing something from him, because he wants to use it to be able to turn around and say, “I paid every of your school fees! Do X-Y-Z for me!” Fucking piece of manipulative shit.

Men are manipulative pieces of fucking shit. Yesterday, when my dad came to give me the check, he was telling me about some interstitial tear he has in his shoulder, and showed me an injury he sustained a while ago where his nail came off because he got it slammed in his car door, or whatever, the entire time I felt schadenfreude. Because he seriously doesn’t deserve the best.

If I had a 6-figure salary, and my entire marriage, withheld money that should have been going to my fucking kids in offshore accounts, then went and took half my ex’s pension when they finally found the strength to divorce my narcissistic ass, when I could just stop pretending I cannot find work with my nuclear pharmacy degree and go and just fucking get another 6-figure salary job, I would not be able to sleep at night. I don’t know how people like him sleep at night, or can ever be happy, knowing how badly they treat others.

 Die. Get stabbed. Die.