#every local mayor needs to do this

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[nanenna]

Meeting the Mayor

Sleepy King Master Post

Mayor Masters had left their little group waiting for far too long. It was clearly a power move, something Batman expected of someone like Lex Luthor, not the mayor of a small town that had been all but swallowed up by the nearby larger city. It was so predictable that he even started a mental countdown on when they would be allowed to meet Masters. He was, of course, right.

On entering the mayor’s office, Masters was sitting behind his desk, an oily smile spread across his face. He didn’t even stand to greet them. “Good afternoon, it’s not every day…” Masters trailed off as his face scrunched up. “Strawberry shortcake! Did some youths play a prank on you?”

Batman glanced briefly towards his fellow League members, they looked just as confused as he was. Diana squared her shoulders, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t…” Masters frowned as he looked them over, “Nevermind, my mistake. What did you want to discuss?” The man smiled brightly as he leaned over and pressed a button on a small desk fan, the blades whirred to life.

Diana smiled just as brightly and just as fakely as she sat down in front of his desk. “We’re here to make sure you’re aware of the resources the Justice League has made available to any municipal body.”

Constantine took his cue and lounged in the chair next to Diana while Batman chose to loom over her shoulder.

“Resources?” Masters asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, we understand that attacks on a “super villain” level can leave a lot of collateral damage that smaller cities may struggle to repair, especially those that haven’t had to deal with such things before. The Justice League provides aid to anyone who applies.”

“Ah, how generous!” Masters gave a smile that made Batman’s skin crawl. “But I’m sure even you have limited funds, would not they be better left to those truly in need? As you’ve seen, our little town is doing just fine without your help.”

“And how is that?” Batman asked. “There’ve been reports of numerous attacks over the last two years, where is Amity Park getting the resources to repair the damage?”

“Believe it or not, ghosts are incorporeal and thus don’t cause as much collateral damage. Also, the appearance of ghosts has caused a spike in tourists, which has been quite the boost to our economy. And lastly, as the mayor is it not my civic duty to support my town, which I love so dearly? Of course I’ve been supplementing Amity’s budget, and I’ve been making sure to hire only local businesses to keep Amity Park’s money inside Amity Park.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. He chose not to mention that Vlad had only moved to Amity Park shortly before running for mayor, or that he had bought and combined a few local construction companies and has been using them exclusively. Certainly everything about the man was suspicious, but that wasn’t what they were here to talk about. Instead he pulled several pamphlets from his utility belt. “While you’ve been lucky so far, it would be in your best interests to be fully aware of the resources available to you and your fine town in case something larger scale happens.” Not that it hadn’t already, he couldn’t imagine anything larger scale than the entire town and neighboring city getting pulled into another dimension by an undead tyrant king.

While Batman and Diana painstakingly went over the pamphlets with Masters, who’s smile wilted more and more the longer they took, Constantine kept muttering under his breath and making motions with his hands where Masters couldn’t see them, staring intensely at the mayor the whole time. Batman was curious what he was seeing.

The wall suddenly burst, small bits of plaster and wood showering over Masters and the cape Batman had used to shield himself and his fellow League members.

“Vladdie!” A familiar voice called boisterously, “You won’t believe what happened! Oh, I didn’t know you had guests.”

Masters was brushing debris from his person as he spoke with clear disdain, “Yes, well, if you would use the door as. I’ve. Asked! Numerous time. This whole situation could be avoided.”

“Hello again,” Dr. Jack Fenton said cheerfully with a little wave. “What are you doing visiting Vladdie?”

“We were just ensuring Mayor Masters was aware of all the JL resources available to him,” Batman said as he let his cap fall back around his body.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Diana said brightly. “We also have support available for minors doing hero work, you wouldn’t happen to be able to get in contact with Phantom, would you?”

Dr. Madeline Fenton, along with both their children, approached as Diana asked her question. Masters’s eyes trailed over to the group before focusing back on the League members. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s a ghost, you know. Likely he spends most of his time in the Ghost Zone, only comes here to play around with his ghost friends and cause collateral damage.”

“Hey!” Danny said indignantly. “Phantom is a hero who’s working really hard to keep the town safe!”

“Yes yes,” Masters said while waving his hand at the family. “I know you and all your little friends think Phantom hung the moon and stars. Wait, shouldn’t you two be at school?”

“There was an incident,” Jack said proudly.

Masters sighed, “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with these fine people, would it?” He waved at the League members as he spoke.

“Good guess, Vladdie!”

“I thought so.” Masters swept the pamphlets into his desk drawer. “Well thank you very much for your concern, I shall make sure to keep these in case we ever do need assistance. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to contact someone about repairing my wall. Have a lovely day.” Masters stood and simply walked through the busted wall with the Fenton family.

Batman watched them leave through narrowed eyes.

“Not the oddest town I’ve been in,” Diana remarked thoughtfully.

Batman simply turned to look in Constantine’s direction.

“The mayor is also dead as a doornail, but fully alive.”

“He also clearly smelled your demon blood,” Batman added.

Constantine nodded. “I'm getting all kinds of odd readings off the mayor, no I'm not explaining it. Just know he's weird, but still not as weird as the kid, though he's close."

"Should we not follow them?" Diana asked.

"I put trackers and bugs on all of them," Batman replied.

"'Course you did, mate."

[robertreich]

How Trump is Following Hitler's Playbook

You’ve heard Trump’s promise:

TRUMP: I’m going to be a dictator for one day.

History shows there are no “one-day” dictatorships. When democracies fall, they typically fall completely.

In a previous video, I laid out the defining traits of fascism and how MAGA Republicans embody them. But how could Trump — or someone like him — actually turn America into a fascist state? Here’s how in five steps.

Step 1: Use threats of violence to gain power

Hitler and Mussolini relied on their vigilante militias to intimidate voters and local officials. We watched Trump try to do the same in 2020.

TRUMP: Proud Boys, stand back and stand by.

Republican election officials testified to the threats they faced when they refused Trump’s demands to falsify the election results.

RAFFENSPERGER: My email, my cell phone was doxxed.

RUSTY BOWERS: They have had video panel trucks with videos of me proclaiming me to be a pedophile.

GABRIEL STERLING: A 20-something tech in Gwinnett County today has death threats and a noose put out saying he should be hung for treason.

If the next election is close, threats to voters and election officials could be enough to sabotage it.

Step 2: Consolidate power

After taking office, a would-be fascist must turn every arm of government into a tool of the party. One of Hitler’s first steps was to take over the civil service, purging it of non-Nazis.

In October of 2020, Trump issued his own executive order that would have enabled him to fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA loyalists. He never got to act on it, but he’s now promising to apply it to the entire civil service.

That’s become the centerpiece of something called Project 2025, a presidential agenda assembled by MAGA Republicans, that would, as the AP put it, “dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision.”

Step 3: Establish a police state

Hitler used the imaginary threat of “the poison of foreign races” to justify taking control of the military and police, placing both under his top general, and granting law-enforcement powers to his civilian militias.

Now Trump is using the same language to claim he needs similar powers to deal with immigrants.

Trump plans to deploy troops within the U.S. to conduct immigration raids and round up what he estimates to be 18 million people who would be placed in mass-detention camps while their fate is decided.

And even though crime is actually down across the nation, Trump is citing an imaginary crime wave to justify sending troops into blue cities and states against the will of governors and mayors.

Trump insiders say he plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to have the military crush civilian protests. We saw a glimpse of that in 2020, when Trump deployed the National Guard against peaceful protesters outside the White House.

And with promises to pardon January 6 criminals and stop prosecutions of right-wing domestic terrorists, Trump would empower groups like the Proud Boys to act as MAGA enforcers.

Step 4: Jail the opposition

In classic dictatorial fashion, Trump is now openly threatening to prosecute his opponents.

TRUMP: if I happen to be president and I see somebody who’s doing well and beating me very badly, I say, ‘Go down and indict them.’ They’d be out of business.

And he’s looking to remake the Justice Department into a tool for his personal vendettas.

TRUMP: As we completely overhaul the federal Department of Justice and FBI, we will also launch sweeping civil rights investigations into Marxist local district attorneys.

In the model of Hitler and Mussolini, Trump describes his opponents as subhuman.

TRUMP: …the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country…

Step 5: Undermine the free press

As Hitler well understood, a fascist needs to control the flow of information. Trump has been attacking the press for years.

And he’s threatening to punish news outlets whose coverage he dislikes.

He has helped to reduce trust in the media to such a historic low that his supporters now view him as their most trusted source of information.

Within a democracy, we may often have leaders we don’t like. But we have the power to change them — at the ballot box and through public pressure. Once fascism takes hold, those freedoms are gone and can’t easily be won back.

We must recognize the threat of fascism when it appears, and do everything in our power to stop it.

[teezersfics]

Money, Revenge & Sex ~ Choi San

“Oh, and my name is San, in case you need to moan.”

♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡

Warnings : Pirate-Cowboy!Dom!San, Cowgirl!sub!reader, unprotected sex, little mention of abuse. Plot at the beginning and the end, mostly plot based. Plot-twist(?), no proof read.

Word count : 3.1 k

I hope you like the...........plot?!?!??!? 😬

Sitting at one of the stools at the tavern, you are scanning the crowd, trying to find the most anticipated faces. The Pirate King and His Crew, one of the most deadly pirates to exist in the present world. Who were rumoured to be on the shore of Puerto Escondido, (Mexico), around this week, for a secret mission, and, you suspect, what can it be.

Lord Antonio, the most popular and wealthy dealer of South Mexico, asked ATEEZ, a Pirate group consisting of the most deadliest crew in this world, for help, to gain power over the southern ports of Mexico. He asked for this favour some years ago. By providing some of the best types of products from all over the world to Mexico, by eliminating all the cunning Mayor's of the towns alongside the southern coast, to bring him the control of those towns. Initially, Antonio's intention of gaining the power was to provide good amenities to the people of the coast, avoid them from facing assaults and loots from other pirates, etc.

But, as time passed, Antonio grew greedy for more and more money. He started keeping all the money eventually, growing his domination over the ports and trades happening in South Mexico. When the news reached the Government, they sent the Navy to gain back control, and execute Antonio. But, with all the power he had, he fooled the Navy, and killed many Navy officers. He crushed all of the attempts of the Navy and the government.

There was a deal, happened between ATEEZ and Antonio, that whenever ATEEZ pays a visit to Mexico, Antonio will pay them 1/4th of the profit he gained every month. But, he broke the deal, only paying for the first two months, later on he pretended to be busy, to have gone somewhere, tried to hide and what not. When ATEEZ heard all the news about how much Antonio has turned the tables with his promises and declarations, and how much serious crimes he committed, that he had a big bounty on his head and also an execution order.

It's been two years since Antonio has been deceiving many, including ATEEZ. Because of non-frequent visits at Mexico, it was not possible to carry out the execution mission of Antonio sooner, but now was the time. And that is why they are here, in the Tavern, disguised as some of the local Mexican men, so that to fool Antonio's men from recognising them. Well, this plan was secret, but one of the men of Antonio, sailing in sea for fishing, saw Destiny(ATEEZ's ship) from far, letting their men know that ATEEZ were here.

The vibe of the tavern party, is something that you adore with your heart. The whole tavern is filled with melodic voices of Vihuela, Accordion, Trumpet, and other instruments. People having glasses of tequila and beer in their hands above their heads, bodies grooving to the music, the dim lighting in the Tavern coming from few of the candles and oil lamps here and there. But, your eyes are trained on one particular person.

A man, buff, wearing only a piece of black jacket, with fringes attached to it, flowing independently on his torso, studs decorating the linings of the jacket. The jacket, doing bare minimum to hide his upper body. You wonder why did he even wore the jacket for? Wearing tight leather pants underneath, a Black cowboy hat on his head, completing his look. A black scarf around his neck and mouth, making it hard for everyone to see his face. But, the way his eyes are just so inviting, so captivating. It's like a Maelstrom is sucking a ship inside of it, and the crew can do nothing but see helplessly, getting sucked in. Especially, his TITS. More distracting than his eyes. The way his fringe jacket is doing nothing to cover his chest. As if he is just showing, he ‘tried’ to cover up, but well…….

The fact that you can actually tell he is Pirate. As a dealer yourself, you've had quite the experience dealing with pirates. And, pirates can be easily recognised by the sword wounds, types of tattoos, their build, rough-torn hands scratched by the splinters of the heavy ropes that they heave, and more other things.

Basically, you figured it out that pirates are already here, blending in with the crowd, wearing Mexican costumes and accessories to blend in with the crowd, mostly covering their faces. The way they are swaying to the music, as if they are pre celebrating their revenge victory over Antonio.

As, they are grooving to the music, you can't help but continuously scan him, the way his body moves to the music, the way his muscles flexes when he raise his hands up in joy. You can't help but feel the need to touch that body of his. Also, the tequila you had, slowly has started to kick in your nerves, making your grow more bolder and risk everything just to have a chance with him. Chugging down the last sip of your tequila, you join the dance.

Without wasting time, you get straight to the point, dancing a little too close to him, almost all over him. But in a way your back facing him. It doesn't takes long for him to study your moves and spins you around by your arm almost making you collide with his chest, his hands goes straight to your lower back, holding you while without wasting time your hands are on his chest, finally feeling the contours of his buff chest. So round and heavy in your hands that you forget dancing for a moment. But his hands on your back, helps you get back to the beat, moving you along the music. Without anything else in your mind, you start dancing, moving your body along with him. It was as if you were not following the rhythm, but you were following him, following the way his body moved.

Your hands were all over his torso, but not for much. Your hands were itching to go lower and sooner you were tugging on his pants and belt. Caressing his upper thighs. He got the hint and finally he spoke, mouth over your ear, even though he was wearing mask, you could still feel the warmth.

“Tu nombre, bonita?” (your name, pretty?) He asked.

It was quiet funny because he was purposefully speaking in Spanish to keep his disguise on. But, you just laugh at it.

“You are good at Spanish.”

His brows are furrowed, not quiet getting what you meant.

“Ofcourse, because I live here!”

You roll your eyes, you get that they have a mission, but it's still funny for you. Also, letting him know that you know him is dangerous move, because he is Pirate after all, he can kill you right away if you slip.

Eventually, his hands starts getting lower, now on your hips. Your bodies a literally pressed together. Oh, how bad you wanna take that scarf off his face. He literally smelled like tequila, some intoxicating herb, and sweat. He was taking over your mind.

‘If I don't get fucked by thus man right now, I might go more Feral.’ Thus was your thought process at the moment and you unknowingly grind forward on him. It was as if your body decided to do it on it's own. Not sure if he'd like it or not, String of ‘Sorry's’ come out of your mouth. But, his grip remains firm on you.

Rather, he buries his head in crook of your neck. He whispered,

“Seems like, you will make me do, what I am not supposed to right now.”

Goosebumps all over your body, you exactly knows what he means. But, you want him to do, exactly what he is not supposed to. So, you swirl your hands more on hiUs body, especially his tits, and you feel how his nippels perks up in some seconds. It's the limit for him.

Holding your wrist he drags out out of party. One of his men see him, stopping him to whisper something in his ear.

“What are you doing? It's not the time.” He says.

“Don't worry, I'll be right back.” He assures the other man with a wink.

He takes you to one of the storage rooms, at the back of the Tavern.

As soon as he closes the door, he wastes no time in pinning you to the door, taking his scarf off and kissing you. Open mouth from the start, he was so desperate to have his mouth on you. So rough that, you were constantly falling out of breathe. His both hands cupping your cheeks, shoving his head in yours. Tongues inside each others mouths. But you pull him away because you didn't get the chance to see him properly.

You were already drowned in his eyes, but now that you see his full face you are mesmerised. You are seeing such a handsome pirate for the first time. The moles on his face, sharp features, the scar on his lips is like the cherry on top. (Imagine Toji's scar)

You don't wait to kiss the scar on his lips, slowly, licking it, he is surprised but soon takes control, biting on your lower lip again and again, now hands on your hips, massaging them, which brings out a moan from you.

“Fuck, your moans are so pretty. Can't wait to hear you moan my name.”

“Then tell me what's your name.” You cock an eyebrow at him. But, it can't beat the perfect smirk on his face.

He drags you to one of the tables in the room, bending you immediately. His hands work on your long skirt, pulling it down along with your panties. You are shocked by his speed. You wanted to get fucked so badly, but he was more into this business than you. While at the same time you removed your shirt. But, as his hand comes to your clit, a long sigh leaves your mouth. Making your legs shiver. It's been a long, very long time. He rubs on your clit, later getting to your folds. He is surprised.

“Oh look, how wet you are already.” You can hear the squelching sound from his rubbing on your folds. But, your legs are not wide enough for him. So he spreads your legs with his own, making your entrance easier for access.

“Hmm, that's more like it.”

He enters one of his finger in your hole, getting a yelp from you. His finger just continues to enter you more and more. You saw his fingers were long, but they feel longer inside you. When he starts thrusting his single finger inside you, it's already numbing your head. You lay your head on the table, cheek flat on the surface.

“Oh fuck-” is all you can say.

“It's just the start, bonita.” He says sliding in another finger. You moan, the feeling is too amazing that you bang your fist on the table. You back was arching, giving him the best angle. He comes down to reach your ear.

“You are a mess, just on my finger. What will happen when you take my dick?” He chuckles right over your ear, sending goosebumps right to your pussy. But, it was a mind blowing feeling when he started scissoring inside of you, as if your pussy would explode anytime with pleasure.

You can hear the sound of the shuffling, he unbuckles his pants, removing them halfway down. Palming his cock through his boxers, he throws his head back, with the thought that next minute his cock will be inside you. He is getting you ready to take him, thrusting his fingers harder on you. It almost feels as if you'd come on his fingers already. But his motion stops. Finally removing his boxers, he strokes his hard dick, spreading his pre cum all over his length.

He spreads his both fingers that are still inside you, making your hole wider, which makes you scream in both pain and pleasure. He rubs his cock on your folds, using your wetness as lube. It's already too much for you. He comes down to you again, to whisper in your ear.

“Oh, and my name is San, in case you need to moan.”

He goes back again, now slowly pushing his cock in. You can hear him sigh loudly.

“Gosh, one of the tightest pussy I've had in a while.” This had you already clenching around him.

After a moment he starts moving. “Fuck San. You- you are too big.”

His thrusts are shallow at first, but sooner he starts gaining momentum. He starts ramming into you and all you could do is grip the table for your dear life. If this keeps going on, the table is gonna leave scratch marks on your stomach. You can hear him groan from behind.

“Ah, San….San fu- fuck.”

“You enjoy getting fucked like this, don't you.” He scoffs. He knew the power he held on you. The loud noises of skins slapping on each other, the squelching sound of your pussy, his groans everything was so overwhelming. You turn your head a slightest bit to get a view of him, and oh! The way his chest is fully covered in sweat, his hairs sticking to his temple because of sweat, droopy eyes. Oh! How much you wished that you kissed him right now and roamed your hands in his hairs. This position was amazing but you wished it was more convenient, also, your legs can give out at any second. He seemed to have noticed that.

“Is this position causing you trouble baby?” He whispers in your ear.

“You wanna see me better? Wanna see how I fuck you?”

All you could do is nod.

“Very well! Then let's switch. You will stand up for me, right baby?”

Nodding, he removes himself from you and you sigh at the feeling of emptiness. But standing up you face him and the next thing you know he lifts you up by your hips and sets you on the table.

Spreading your legs wide by his large hands, he lines up his cock on your clit. Pecking you quickly on the lips he said.

“Let's get this done. Okay?”

He enters you again and your head falls in the crook of his neck. It's just you are not used to his size. The most beautiful man you have ever fucked. How much you wished he stayed around for much more or you could get to see him more. The sudden urge to mark him yours raised and so you started leaving hickeys on his neck and chest as he pounded in you.

But, when he unexpectedly traced the long scar on your torso, it made you visibly flinch. Something that you considered as your biggest flaw.

“A scar, this long, as if you were scraped by a sword.”

“Hmph, yeah. It was a sword.”

“Who would do this to such a beautiful lady like you.”

You take a deep breath.

“M- My father.”

“Why?”

“Be- because I am doing my w- work by going against him. So he tried to kill me because, he- he thinks I am his competition.”

“How insecure he can be. But, it's okay baby, no one can hurt you when I am here.”

The way he speaks, it makes you cling more to him, to rely on him. He is a complete stranger with no business in your pain, but he still assures to protect you. Now is the time. You can tell him what you want to, right at this moment. This can be, he can be your chance of fleeing away from here. And so you finally say it.

“S- San, I know where the key is- the key to Antonio's grand safe.”

He couldn't believe his ears that he stopped his movements.

“What are you saying?” He is purely confused.

“I know you are from ATEEZ, and I know you are here to revenge Antonio.”

He shaked his head, still believing this was fake.

“This fuck so good, I am hallucinating.” He said, trying to make sense of the situation.

“No San, I will help you get to the safe and locate Antonio.”

“Why?”

“Because I want justice too and wanna flee away from here.”

He scrunched his eyebrows, not knowing which question would get him all of the answers he needed to know. So he asked.

“How do you know about all this? Who are you?”

“Because, I am Antonio's daughter.”

The room is dead silent. His grip tightening on your waist. You just wish this doesn't go downhill. But, when he starts to move again, you yelp sudden thrust. His head in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him smile.

“I decided to fuck right women, I guess?” He scoffed. The way all of the weight from your shoulder vanished.

“If I didn't approached you, this moment would have never happened.” You reply to him, and he laughs.

He slowly increases his speed, coming to the climax. His thrusts are fast and deep, trying to reach as far as possible into you. This had you moaning loudly, into his ear, moaning his name, which is driving him more crazy.

“Shit- San, I am close.”

“Do it, cum for me.”

After few more thrusts, you both hit your climax, cumming into you, he hit a few more thrusts to ride out both of your highs. Removing himself from you, he gets dressing shortly while you lay back on the table, exhausted from the sex.

After he is dressed, he helps you get dressed, shocking you, because you didn't expect him to help you. You thought he would rather ask for the key and Antonio, and get back to his team. He notices you expression.

“What? Don't you wanna get ready, we have a mission.”

‘We’, oh! How you hope this ‘We’ remains forever.

Later, that night, they were able to get the key with your help, and get back all of their money. The remaining money, that neither ATEEZ owned nor Antonio, they rained that money upon the town at the dawn which rightfully belonged to towns’ people, later capturing Antonio, tying him up, and throwing him in middle of town's Square, letting people decide his fate, which they did by beating him up, submitting him to the government, leading to his public execution. No matter how bad he treated you, he was still your father, you still felt bad. But now you had nothing you can call yours in the town, and San knew it. He offered you to join Destiny, Ateez's crew, and you accepted.

You are standing in front of the ship and the man you are going to spend the rest of your life with, him, offering you a hand to step on the ship, him and his crew, Welcoming you aboard, to start a new life.

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (3)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4k

— 🍄 summary: the coroner of Farrow's End finally invites you into his kingdom, and you can feel more than one set of watching eyes as you continue your investigation.

— ☕ content warnings: coroner!taehyung, assistant!jungkook, mentions of murder/death/suicide

— 🕸️ a/n: meeting more of the boys!!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 3: into the morgue

"Have her come in," Taehyung says over dinner.

There's a collective clang as several sets of silverware are put down.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, hyung," Jungkook replies. He's nervous around you, especially because you can see more than you let on.

"We're going to have to eventually," Namjoon adds, and Jimin sends him a mischievous, knowing look. He knows how Joon likes to watch you in the bookshop, offering his assistance at his earliest convenience, asking if you need help finding anything specific.

"It's obvious she was hired by the mayor," Yoongi says. "Though, I'm not entirely sure why."

They all know that Mayor Summerbee runs in some of the same circles that they do, but they wonder if you're aware of that fact too. How much did she tell you?

"At the very least, it'll tell us what she already knows," Yoongi says.

"And if she scares easily," Taehyung adds, suppressing a smirk.

What kind of private investigator are you? Are you motivated by self interests? Are you just here to get the job done, bare minimum? Or are you the morbidly curious type? The kind that can't stop until a mystery is solved, even if it leads you to dangerous places.

Yoongi and Namjoon already have a guess at which type you are.

"She has some kind of sight," Jungkook says, biting his nails. The real question is how sharp is that sight?

"I don't think she knows that she has it," Jin pipes in.

They exchange glances, thinking.

"Well," Hoseok says, and they all turn to look at him. "I suppose we'll just have to test it."

september 27, 2004

You've seen your fair share of coroners. Good ones, even excellent ones, and the ones who never should've been appointed to the job in the first place. Most people aren't aware that there is no national standard for coroners, some don't even have medical training.

You remember a case not too long ago when a family mourning the loss of their son hired you to investigate the circumstances of his death, which was ruled "accidental" at the time. The coroner had not had any prior forensic training, he was an OBGYN turned politician. Elected by the small-town voters (nearly 80% of coroners in the U.S. are elected, by the way), he was cushy with the local police force.

And being your naturally suspicious self, or maybe it's a side effect of your job, you pressed for a second autopsy by an examiner actually worth his salt.

The external examination alone proved that it was far from accidental. His wounds suggested severe beating, and his cause of death was suffocation from being choked, homicide not accident.

Further investigation revealed police brutality. You pushed and pushed and pushed, and after being enough of a pain in the ass (and threatening several lawsuits), they finally convicted the officers responsible.

The family still sends you a Christmas card every year, and it more than makes up for being a pain in the ass for living.

So yeah, you don't trust coroners, or their reports, until you get the chance to evaluate their level of competence for yourself. And the fact that the coroner of Farrow's End has been so resistant to your attempts to contact him doesn't bode well.

But today, the Monday following your little expedition up to the Addam's House, he's finally available to see you. Last night you received a call at around midnight, seemingly from the same young man you saw on the other side of the gate the other day.

Of course you were awake, but you wondered why the coroner's office would be up and running at such an hour. Maybe a late night emergency autopsy? It wasn't unheard of, sometimes a Sheriff will request an autopsy to be completed as soon as possible when the press are particularly bothersome and the cause of death is unclear.

You didn't get the chance to ask, because the man started rattling off about how the coroner would be able to see you tomorrow morning, and he advised that you bring any notes you might have.

Good sign, it suggests that the coroner is willing to work with you.

It's early, maybe a little too early. The fog is blanket-thick and the clouds are sprinkling down a fine mist of rain.

You take your car as far as the rocky dirt road allows, park it at the base of the hill, and trudge on through the mud, the umbrella over your head immediately collecting dew.

You reach the gate, closed like last time. When you reach for it, you're expecting to find it locked, but just as your fingers are about to touch the cold metal, the gate swings open with a long creak.

You stand there for a moment, searching for some kind of mechanism that would make it open by itself, but you find nothing but old iron forged in intricate patterns.

Whatever, you've seen weirder. You slip through the parted gates and close them behind you.

Gigantic trees, pines it looks like, envelop the perimeter of the surrounding gates, with twisting, leafless trees in abundance nearer to the house, even though fall is just beginning to dawn and most leaves haven't even begun to change color yet.

You didn't notice it before, but these leafless trees are full of crows, black tufts perched on the reaching branches. No, crows and ravens. They call out as you pass by, and you get the odd sense that every single one of them is looking at you.

The cobblestone path leading up to the front door is overgrown with weeds. The exterior of the house, now that you can see it up close, is almost decrepit. The wood is rotting, the roof is sagging, the windows are dirty and smudged.

They rent this place out?

"Ma'am!" a voice calls out.

You search for the owner of the voice, finally finding it at the side of the house. It's the young man from the other day, peeking around a brick corner. He gestures you over and swiftly disappears again.

When you turn the corner, the man is standing by a double hatch door in the ground. Not a good sign for a supposed "morgue."

He seems to read as much on your face, because then he's saying, "I would take you down the elevator inside, but everyone is still asleep."

There's a childish nervousness in his voice, and it makes you send an uncharacteristic smile his way as you step through the door and down a spiral staircase.

Distracted, you don't see the curtains twitch, and the several faces in the windows above, watching.

The passage runs deep. You emerge in a wide hallway, lined with carved wooden walls and old portraits. The foundation is clearly old, but there are newly installed fluorescent lights that don't do the original craftsmanship justice.

"How old is this house?" you blurt out, and the young man can't suppress a high, boyish laugh.

"I'm not sure, around a century, I think," he says.

Wow hard to believe it's gone untouched for so long, you think as he leads you down the extensive hallway, passing several branching doorways.

Your eyes drink everything in, curious and scrutinous. Again, the man seems to read your mind.

"It might not look it, but we have a state of the art facility here," he begins.

"Crematorium," he gestures to one door. "Viewing room. Embalming room. Autopsy room. And the largest refrigeration unit in five counties."

This place is extensive, and the further you go, the cleaner and more modern it gets.

You notice that the man is wearing similar clothing from before: a large coat (broad shoulders) and big, thick boots. Black, laced up over his ankles it appears, it makes the thud of his footsteps echo against the walls.

You wonder if they are corpse-handling boots, or merely a style choice.

"Here's the office," he says, leading you into a small but cozy room fit with a cluttered desk and a few dusty but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"You can have a seat if you like," he says, nervousness creeping back into his voice.

You take him up on the offer, sinking into one of the armchairs despite the fact that you're a little damp from the rain. But judging by the state of the chairs, you doubt it would bother them.

It's then than you realize how chilly it is down here, in this basement maze tucked under an ancient house. Damn, you're so—

"Cold?" the man says suddenly. "I'm sorry, we get quite the chill down here. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

You perk up almost instantly.

"Coffee, please," you reply maybe a little too perkily, because it makes him smile at you, exposing those bunny teeth again. Very cute.

He disappears through another doorway, into some sort of kitchenette judging by the sounds coming from it (metal banging, water running, porcelain clanking).

You take a look around. The office walls are lined with framed photos and plaques all boasting the same name: Kim Taehyung. Bachelor of Science in Biology, Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Master of Forensic Science, Embalmer's License, Medical Examiner Certification, Doctor of Medicine.

Got it, this man is learned. Good sign.

The young man returns with a silver tray in his hands. He sets it down on the ottoman between the two armchairs, grasping the black teapot and pouring fresh steaming coffee into a matching black teacup. You notice that the sugar cubes are in the shape of skulls and bones, and a part of you admires the dedication to the aesthetic.

You prepare your cup and sip greedily. The coffee is rich and strongly-brewed. Another good sign. It may not contribute to your investigation, but at least you can respect him as a person.

The young man takes the seat next to you and prepares his own cup.

For the first time since you arrived, you aren't distracted by your surroundings, and you're realizing just how strange this young man looks.

His skin is a dull shade of gray, with slight red blemishes and spots of dark purple flesh that look like deep bruises. His lips are simultaneously pale yet also tinged red, like there's blood inside his mouth. And his eyes, they look like—

The man seems to notice you staring at him, because he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and coughs awkwardly.

You blink, and his form seems to blur at the edges, becoming fuzzier and harder to latch onto. Maybe he has some sort of skin condition. But that wouldn't explain the feeling that something isn't quite right about him, something uncanny.

"I'll go see if Dr. Kim is ready for you," he says, practically sprinting out of his seat and out of the room. You hear his footsteps pounding through the halls, then hushed voices.

You being you, the debate over whether to slip through the hall to eavesdrop on their conversation does cross your mind. But you figured that even with your silent feet, they would probably still hear you rustling around in the quiet of the morgue.

A few moments later, and you hear one set of footsteps returning to the office. The young man pops his head into the doorway.

"He'll see you now," he says, vanishing just as fast. The way he appears and disappears like a ghost is starting to give you whiplash.

You follow him down the hall, entering a fluorescent-lit room fit with chrome features. The walls are lined with little doors, drawer openings, and there are several gurneys scattered throughout the room. The chill is even stronger here, this must be part of that state of the art refrigeration system.

The man standing in the center of it all is wearing a white medical gown and black latex gloves. He looks up as you enter, and—

Oh. He's young, startlingly young, early thirties max. His skin is golden tan over strong, handsome features. Dark tiger eyes, sharp and perceptive. The only indicator of his age is several tendrils of silver hair growing from the crown of his head.

"Good morning," he greets in a deep, charming voice. "Miss ______?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim?" you reply, holding out a hand.

"Just Taehyung, please," he says, taking off his gloves to shake your hand firmly, and jesus his hands are large and very pretty.

Ah, so he's not a pretentious asshole who insists on being addressed as "doctor" constantly. Another good sign. Though, judging from his extensive education, in this case it would be justified.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't see you sooner. It can get quite busy with just the two of us down here," Taehyung says.

You can't help but take another glance around the room. Only two people running this whole facility?

"I understand that you're working with the mayor?" Taehyung inquires, his casual voice good at hiding his burning curiosity.

You, in turn, are good at hiding the slight suspicion from hearing the mayor mentioned yet again. You're not sure who you're suspicious of though, him or the mayor herself.

"Yes, I was hoping I could get copies of the autopsy reports for Michael Bradley, Jarvis Laplan, and Sharon Mason."

You say it matter-of-factly, curious if they will bend at the slight flex of authority in your voice. Or, if being associated with the mayor yields certain results.

The two of them glance at each other.

"Access to Laplan and Mason aren't a problem, but Mary Bradley has requested that no further information on her husband's death be released," Dr. Kim replies, cool as a cucumber.

Your eyes widen just a bit, unable to hide your surprise. Wait...what? He would just give you the reports for Laplan and Mason, just like that? No request for credentials? No questions asked?

Truth be told, you've never gotten hold of an autopsy report after the first ask. You've always had to jump through hoops to get the right permissions and authorizations, as is the case for private investigators since they are not real police. And rightly so, the fine details of people's violent deaths is not something to be made light of, in your opinion.

Clearly your confusion is evident on your face, because then Taehyung is saying, "Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's parents are quite eager for further investigation."

Ah, so they suspect something unusual too. Hopefully they'll be more than willing for an interview.

"And Bradley...?" your voice trails off with the question.

Taehyung furrows his brows like he isn't sure how exactly to put it.

"Mrs. Bradley has had a bad experience with the press," is all he says.

You can feel your eyebrow raise.

"Is she still a suspect?" you ask, deadpan.

Taehyung is quick to correct himself.

"No, god no!" he says, eyes wide and head shaking. "His death was purely accidental, a tragedy that could've been avoided."

Your attention catches on that last part like a snagged thread on a nailhead.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" you ask, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Jungkook, who's silently watching the whole exchange, can't help but think it makes you look predatory, a hunter locked onto their target with frightening accuracy.

But Dr. Kim doesn't bend. He tilts his head ever so slightly as the corner of his mouth curves up, like he respects your drive.

"Well, Michael Bradley exhibited signs of extreme mental distress, many of them suggestive of suicide."

"But you don't think it was suicide, do you?" you say, before you can help it really, because your mind is running a hundred miles a minute right now.

Jungkook can sense it too, his eyes Bambi-wide and watching in fascination as the cogs turn in your analytical brain.

"No, I don't." It comes from Taehyung's mouth like a sigh. You don't see it (Jungkook does), but he's impressed.

"That's all I can say really," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding apologetic. "You'll have to speak with Mrs. Bradley about getting access, but talking about her husband is painful for her. And she's been through enough."

He cares about people, the ones he works on are not just bodies to him. Very good sign. You're coming to the conclusion than Dr. Kim is definitely a coroner worth his salt.

"I'll be sure to proceed delicately, then," you reply softly. You're trying to say it back. I care about these victims, this isn't just a case to me. Everyone has a story.

He seems to get it, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Something very small, almost ghostly, clicks between you.

Jungkook observes it all in a slight state of awe. He can already tell that the rest of them, his "family," are going to like you.

Taehyung gives you the copies of the autopsy reports, a sizable stack of folders and papers and photos. He even gives you a copy of the autopsy transcript.

You realize that he was prepared to give you this information before you even got here. Either Mayor Summerbee is a very persuasive person, or Dr. Kim is eager to work with you. Maybe both.

Your point is proven seconds later when Taehyung hands you a business card (with his personal number scrawled on the back), as he tells you that you're free to contact him with any questions you might have.

You profess your thanks with an armful of documents, making a point to shake Dr. Kim's and Jungkook's hand firmly.

Jungkook leads you back, his boots softly thudding with every step, and you can feel Taehyung's eyes on your back as you walk through down the long hallway.

Jungkook is kind. He offers to help you with the massive stack of documents in your arms, but you politely refuse. You've got liquid gold in your possession.

He holds the gate open for you, even offering to walk you to your car, but again, you decline and thank him for his offer.

The gate shuts behind you with a resonate clang. As you turn away from the house to begin the trek down the muddy hill, you feel an odd sensation, like tingling insects down your back.

Looking over your shoulder, you see the curtains of several windows suddenly fall back into place. Someone, several someone's, are watching you.

You can't find it in you to be creeped out, though. Something about this house, despite its run-down appearance, is welcoming. Beckoning, even.

It's dark and old and practically falling apart, but many things that you love also happen to have those same traits.

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you turn and make your way down the path. You'll have to find out more about this place.

"Again. She saw through my glamour again," Jungkook announces to the room, sounding slightly defeated.

"Don't worry, Kook. It's a solid spell, I checked it myself," Yoongi replies as he waters one of the endless houseplants adorning their home. Thanks to Yoongi himself, of course.

"She saw through mine too," Taehyung says, resolute. He's staring at the black and white checkered floor, deep in thought.

Everyone looks up at that.

"That proves it then," Namjoon says. "She has a heightened degree of sight."

"I wanna know why though," Yoongi interrupts in a sudden bout of passion. "She's human. Why is she able to see everything?"

"Not the house though," Jungkook blurts out. "The glamour on the house held up."

"Of course it did, the house magick is stronger than any of us," Jin quips from the kitchen, standing over a sizzling stove.

"Lots of humans have the sight," Jimin says lazily, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs.

"Yeah, but it's the type of humans who turn it into a cheap gimmick," Jungkook replies, pacing around the room now.

Taehyung crosses the distance between them in a few strides, putting a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The younger man looks up at him, then lets out a breath and returns the smile.

"You're safe, Kook," Taehyung says softly. "No one's gonna put up a fuss."

Jimin chuckles. "She might."

Taehyung throws a scolding glance over his shoulder. "A real fuss, I mean. Everything's been kept under wraps so far."

"And she's not a phony, or a leech. The mayor made sure of that," Yoongi says.

"In any case," Jin begins, an authoritative edge to his voice. "Hoseok said to keep an eye on her, so that's just what we'll do."

september 28, 2004

You may be a damn good investigator, but you're no med student. So the next day you set out to the bookstore, determined to understand every last term and phrase in the autopsy reports.

The same man is behind the desk, but this time he's bent over a typewriter, clacking away. You can't help but observe him for a moment, watching as his dark eyes dart over the page, the way his glasses rest at the edge of his nose like a wizened old man.

"Welcome in," he calls out at the chime of the bell on the door, like an instinct.

You take a few steps into the ever-crowded space, your eyes shifting over all the things you missed the last time you were here. Because that's what kind of place this is, somewhere you could go a hundred times and find something new each visit. Places like this are quite dear to you.

You're about to examine a shelf full of perfectly preserved beetles, when you sense the man look up at you.

"Oh," he says, like he's pleasantly surprised. "It's you."

And you would be lying if you said it didn't make your gut feel something warm squirming inside it.

"Need help finding anything?" he asks, like he has every time you've visited this place.

"Yes, please," you reply, barely hiding your smile.

He leads you through the maze of shelves like it's a map of his own brain. Several times you have to hurry to catch up to him in his excitement.

Soon your arms are occupied by an impressive stack. Anatomy, general medical knowledge, crime scene identification, even a few textbooks on post-mortem examinations.

To you, it's more liquid gold. You profess your thanks to the bookshop keeper, dropping a generous tip into the jar when you go to checkout. Again, the books are almost too reasonably priced. Not that it matters, since research purchases are an easy business expense ride-off.

Just as you turn to leave, the man clears his throat awkwardly, like he's building himself up to speak.

"There's plenty of places to sit here," he almost blurts out. "Lots of cozy nooks. Perfect for...research."

You pause at the door to glance back at him. You find him watching you closely, his expression somewhere between innocently curious and suggestive of hidden knowledge on his part.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply, a little teasing lilt to your voice. Because clearly he enjoys your company too.

Then you turn on your heel and let the door swing shut behind you, leaving him wanting more.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would combust with joy if you'd tell me any of your thoughts :D

NEXT UPDATE: 05/25/24

[petalruesimblr]

Hello and welcome back to my blog! This is another part-time career or internship for teens, which will offer a promotion into the Political career as they transition to young adulthood. This internship is inspired by a real program, specifically the NY Office of the Mayor Internship Program and as the The Sims 3 features a "Leader of the Free World" as the final level of the Political career, I named this internship the Office of the Leader Internship.

For those seeking a full-time career, I am currently working on a second one that will be released soon, so stay tuned!����

In the meantime, if you are interested in this one, click on ‘Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Office of the Leader Internship career.

Office of the Leader Internship

Sim File Share

Do you have a passion for bureaucracy, a knack for turning chaos into order and an unyielding enthusiasm for office coffee? We’re seeking bright, ambitious teens to join the Office of the Leader Internship Program! Dive into the heart of local government, where every day brings fresh adventures in learning bureaucracy. You’ll work alongside the best, gain invaluable experience and maybe even catch the eye of some influential Sims. With fixed hours, free office supplies and the occasional donut day, you’ll enjoy a unique mix of fun and professional growth. Apply now and step into the action!

Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Teens Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: City Hall Work Days: M, W, Th Work Hours: 4PM - 7PM Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (refer to picture above) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.

NRAAS Careers Mod

I initially considered including logic as one of the metrics but decided to remove it. The Political career in the game relies solely on charisma as its primary skill and mostly depends on funding for promotions. It didn’t make sense to include logic, as it isn’t used in the long run for this career path. The work days for this internship are scheduled for Mondays, Wednesday and Thursdays. If you have the Seasons expansion pack then it will only be two days due to Thursday is considered as a holiday and Drama Club meetings are on Tuesday and Friday if you have the Generations expansion pack (which is useful if you want your teens to increase their charisma faster). 📣 Upon reaching level three in their internship, teens will be eligible for promotion to the Political career upon applying once they become young adults. Instructions are provided in the picture above; right-click on it and select ’Open image in new tab’ for a clearer view. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for this career to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

saw some western aus and wanted to throw my proverbial hat in the ring. well. toss it gently. place it down on the edge-

actually no fuck that, slamming down the hat i have Thoughts:

first off, if anything this au should be the silliest looney toons bullshit.

~ of all the revolvers are unloaded. so gunfights are just people saying "bang" at each other and then throwing the nearest thing at their opponent in place of a bullet

~ Wally is the town sheriff, and he's hilariously incompetent. he also has a habit of shoplifting apples from Howdy's saloon / general store fusion. his cowboy hat has a card with an apple on it tucked in the band, but he doesn't wear it, so at nearly all times one of his hands is occupied with holding the hat. also he doesn't wear his badge ever

~ Barnaby is the town deputy, and he's marginally more competent than Wally. however, he doesn't take his job seriously and is usually napping in his chair on the sheriff office porch. sometimes he wears Wally's badge along with his own for funsies

~ also when Howdy catches Wally stealing, he'll call Barnaby over. Barnaby will proceed to arrest and lock up Wally in his own jail until Barnaby feels too bad for leaving him in there and lets him out

~ there is only one horse in town, and its Eddie's so that he can do his delivery runs and get mail from the town over - he has a lil wagon too. Sally has a running gag where she tries to steal the horse, but it completely ignores her and won't budge an inch.

~ on that note, Wally has one of those stick horses. when he needs to chase someone down, he hops on it and Barnaby lifts him by the scruff and runs, gently shaking him up and down to simulate natural horse riding movements. somehow it always works. no one can escape this tactical move

~ the only role i can see for Sally is overly-theatrical outlaw, just as incompetent as Wally. she never succeeds in stealing anything but also never gets caught because, again, Wally is terrible at his job. everyone usually comes outside to watch their wacky "fights" and do nothing about it, including Barnaby. also Julie helps her sometimes

~ Julie i think would be the town banker. she's unusually strict about it and can get kind of scary about technicalities. however the town doesn't really use currency, so they have a point system that they keep careful track of. it would be stickers, but those dont exist. actually fuck that these are puppets, stickers exist and the board is like the gold stars in that one spongebob episode

~ Frank is an entomologist that decided to brave the untamed west to see what new bugs he might discover. what he discovered was dust, scorpions, and an inability to leave the town due to no monies anywhere. he finds entertainment in keeping track of the local ant colonies' wars & affairs, and also complaining at Howdy at the bar

~ everyone complains to Howdy. he has someone at his bar at any given time and he's taken to being incredibly passive aggressive about it. they still have to pay with jokes or favors or whatever they can think of that he'll accept

~ Poppy runs the hotel, where pretty much everyone lives. Julie lives there, Frank lives there, Sally lives there, Wally lives there. Barnaby prefers to sleep in the sheriffs office, as he doesn't want to make the "across the street" commute. Howdy also stays in his saloon/store, and Eddie sleeps in his post office - as canon intended.

~ Home is the mayor. don't ask me if he's a person, an object head, or just a building - i do not know. he's probably still a building. no one can understand what he says

~ oh also Frank is incredibly pressed over the fact that the town's lawfolk suck at their job. he swears he has an aneurysm every time Wally chases Sally down the street on a stick horse, or when blatant crime is happening right in front of a very asleep Barnaby. he is tempted to take over as sheriff, but alas, there are scorpions to be stung by

~ and finally: apple chaps. thats all thanks good day

[seat-safety-switch]

Something about the way that Big Business likes to operate in this country rubs me the wrong way. They stride into little, upstanding communities and push them around to get a slightly better deal on extracting our precious, non-renewable natural resources. Only pollution and human misery is left behind. For a brief, shining moment, I was the solution to this corruption. And then I kind of let things go to my head.

Running for office is easier than you'd think. All you need to do is get signatures of a hundred people. An afternoon at the mall, asking folks to save the endangered Pacific African Grey Rhino, will just about do you. Of course, there's also the filing fee, but I managed to distract the lady working the counter at City Hall and transfer the cheque from another mayoral application to mine when she wasn't looking.

Quite why I fell out of favour with The Mayor is between him and I. We go way back, and it would not reflect well on my upbringing to reveal our private feud in public. Not like it stopped him, though, as he blabbed to every talk-radio host, morning-news talking head, and local newspaper about how awful I was. They just laughed, thinking that nobody could be that bad, and surely it was some kind of desperate lie, another sign that he had lost touch with the common man. Such embellishment did get my name in the public ear, and I won in a landslide after promising to double speed limits (that's all it takes.)

From day one, I went about kicking all the huge-capitalism greedheads out of my city, mostly because I got tired of them driving their Porsches slowly on my newly speed-unlimited corners. Big lawsuits were launched, rich folks ejected into the nearest river. I was on the news every day in my stained coveralls and greasy sweater, adding further credibility to my regular-dude motif. If you were some kind of crank weirdo who liked to tell other people at the bar what the government should do, then I was your representative. And crank it I did. Wait, that came out wrong.

After about a week of this, I think the big business monsters got together. They went to their little gangster restaurant and they decided the best way to get rid of me would be to catch me up in a bribery scandal. Didn't work: I took the bribe and bragged about it to the news. That bribe? 2005 Dodge Neon, with an un-torn drivers' seat and only about 180,000 km on the odometer. Mint. They did their homework. The problem was that I now had a fancy new car, which I had effectively stolen from rich people, but I didn't want to look rich, so I didn't drive it to work.

The problem is that I slowly became paranoid. As with my forebear, I lost touch with the common man. I began to fear that they were going to steal my Neon – my retirement fund – while I was at City Hall, doing stupid mayor stuff. Soon, I lost focus on my work, and I slipped in the polls. There was only one thing left to do: stop coming to work for a few weeks and don't answer the phone. Works every time!

[the-whispers-of-death]

First Meeting

18+ Only Blog! Minors & Ageless Blogs, Do NOT Interact!!!

TW/CW: Death

I had a dream that evolved into this and this is loosely inspired by season 1 of the CW show Arrow, I won't deny it. Don't worry, I didn't straight up steal the plot of the first season.

This is with a male reader, so if you don't want to read that, then don't! Only Reader's gender, codename, their family member (which we'll see in the next part), and their costume is specified, everything else is up to your imagination!

There's also a long introduction before you get to meeting Ghost, whoops. The other parts will be more moments with Ghost, I promise.

Two years ago, your city was "saved" by a corporation called Onyx Corp, the corporation swearing it'd save the city from financial ruin. They promised the poorest citizens they would be taken out of poverty and be given jobs and real estate. Instead, they gave the jobs to outsiders and made buying a house or renting an apartment even more expensive. The worse part, Onyx Corp was pushing out illegal substances and watching as they got the citizens addicted and in desperate need of the substances.

Despite this, the mayor kept preaching about how good it was that Onyx Corp was here, how it was pulling the city out of poverty and putting it back on the map in terms of tourism. The crimes Onyx Corp committed went unchecked, city officials blackmailed and bribed until they turned a blind eye.

So after a year of watching your city descend deeper into hell, you took up a mantle of dark justice. You donned on a black leather hooded suit that was lined with Kevlar and you went back to your family roots of being hunters, picking up a bow and a quiver of arrows. You broke into Onyx Corp facilities, sabotaging the production of the illegal substances and killing anyone who got in your way.

The media, influenced by Onyx Corp's money, named you Grim Reaper, calling you a menace to society and a detriment to Onyx Corp's good intentions. The people around you all believed that Onyx Corp were good, that their cause really was righteous. They spat insults at Grim Reaper in your presence without knowing the vigilante was you, calling for your head on a spike.

But it didn't matter to you, you were determined to drive Onyx Corp out of the city or die trying. So when the news reported the local police was forming a task force to hunt you down, you still crept out of your grandmother's family home and hid in the bushes outside of a Onyx Corp warehouse, waiting for the perfect time to sneak inside.

You moved slowly and methodically, stopping to hide in the brush whenever a guard would walk by and shine their light through the window to peer outside. You timed it right, only moving when the guards would be walking past the windows.

Onyx Corp guards were a different breed of guards, they were insanely loyal to the corporation (and sometimes blind to the corporation's crimes) and were given the order to shoot any intruder who dared to step onto the property, especially if that intruder was you. If they weren't loyal to the point that they'd hunt you down and kill you if you didn't put them down first, you probably would just knock them out.

But alas, for you, it's to kill or to be killed. There was very little you could do about it and it was pointless for you to feel guilty about it.

As you crouched in front of the window, you got out the tools you'd need to pick the lock on the window, wanting a quiet entrance. You waited for a guard to walk past before reaching up to pick the lock, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Just as you got it unlocked, a guard was back to patrolling around the room, so you quickly ducked back down. It truly was annoying for you to keep ducking every time someone walked past the window, but at least you didn't have to wait long for you to be able to get inside.

You quietly crept inside the building, making sure to take off your quiver so it wouldn’t hit the window frame and alert the guards of your presence. Taking a deep breath, you moved through the building slowly, sneaking up behind guards and quietly taking them out in the form of snapping their necks.

You managed to make a serious dent in the amount of guards still alive in the building before you neared another guard, smirking when you heard on their walkie-talkie that the guards alive realized you were here. Quickly killing the guard before they can turn around, you went from using your bare hands to kill and you unslung your bow from your shoulders.

Grabbing an arrow, you nocked it and snuck around the building, searching for the heart of the building where the production of illegal substances were happening. As you neared the huge room where the production line was, there were more guards and now that the element of surprise was lost, you alternated between shooting arrows at the guards and fighting hand-to-hand combat with them.

It was a good thing that you had experience fighting when you were outnumbered, because it made it easier to get through the guards that were in front of the door. As they surrounded you, you ducked and dodged blows while injuring the guards closest to you.

The workers inside the room were loudly scrambling to finish what they were doing, clearly hearing you kill the guards outside. But you quickly opened the door by kicking it in and stepping inside as the workers cowered at the sight of you.

You killed the few guards in the room before turning to the workers. "Stop production and I'll let you live," you said, noting how all of the workers were out-of-towners. They were relatively innocent, just in need of jobs. "I'm here to stop this drug lab, not to kill you. Go."

The workers thankfully took your words to heart and turned on their heels to move to the exit. Most were speed-walking, but some were running. Whatever, you only cared about them leaving, especially since they wouldn't be able to identify your voice due to your nifty voice changer that you always had on when out fighting Onyx Corp.

As you were watching the workers leave, you heard the slightest shift in the air behind you and you quickly spun around with your bow in the air, just barely parring the blow that a guard that you hadn't taken out had just dealt you. There was a huge arm against your bow and your eyes followed it all the way up to the guard who was in front of you.

Your heart almost dropped to your stomach when you recognized the white skull mask on the man, your mind slotting the pieces into the puzzle. This was Ghost, Onyx Corp's best guard who had skills that could only rival yours.

You had managed to not meet him before this since the CEO of Onyx Corp wanted Ghost nearby him in case you decided to attack the CEO directly, but clearly you were making a signifiant dent in Onyx Corp's profits if they sent their most loyal and skilled guard.

"You could've easily shot me dead." you pointed out, your eyes going to the untouched gun holstered in Ghost's side holster. If he had pulled out the gun and shot you when your back was turned, you'd be dead and nothing you could've done would've prevented that.

Ghost let out a deep, cold chuckle. "I could've shot you dead, it's true. But that'd be too easy and too boring," he murmured before kicking you in the stomach and sending you stumbling backwards. "Why kill you so easily when I can brush up on my rusty hand-to-hand combat skills with you? Come on then, Grim Reaper, give me a fight."

Your brain screamed at you to not take the bait and to fire an arrow at Ghost's head while he was distracted, but there was a slight thrill inside of you at having a worthy opponent to do hand-to-hand combat with. So against your better judgement, you slung your bow on your shoulder, silently accepting Ghost's challenge.

You two sized each other up for a minute before Ghost made the first move, lunging for you. You dodged him, quickly sending a punch to Ghost's abdomen. A pulse of thrill washed over you as you saw the man stumble back from your blow, but it only lasted for a few seconds before he straightened back upright and went to repay you for the punch.

Blow after blow was exchanged, both of you getting your fair of bruises. You were surprisingly evenly-matched, neither one gaining the upper hand of the fight for long.

Somehow, during the fight, Ghost managed to pull your hood down. You both stopped in your tracks, you thanking your lucky stars that you were wearing a balaclava as added precaution if the hood ever fell down, so now Ghost's shock was all about you wearing the balaclava and not the fact that he saw your face.

"Don't you get really hot under there?" Ghost asked, too puzzled over your attire to remember the fight.

You also forgot the fight for a moment, crossing your arms as you stared blankly at him. "You're wearing the same amount of layers as I am, including wearing a balaclava. Do you get hot under there?" Your electronic voice was sharp and unamused, which seemed to amuse him.

Ghost mirrored your pose, crossing his arms just to mock you. "Are you asking if I'm hot under this mask?" He was very obviously smirking behind his mask, you just knew it from the smugness in his voice.

"That's not—"

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, deeming it not worth it to keep engaging whatever this was. You simply pulled your hood back up and lunged at Ghost, finally taking him by surprise long enough to end this fight.

You didn't let him get his bearings after you tackled him to the ground, grabbing his face in your hands and using your grip on him to drag him to the nearest wall. Clearly you were too impatient to let the fight drag on any longer, as you smashed his head against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief when the blow made his eyes roll closed.

He was just unconscious, not dead, you knew he was alive. Your brain was again screaming to kill him right then and there since he'd hunt you down like the rest of the Onyx guards, but the thought of him surviving and meeting you again and again to give you such a good fight nagged at you and you couldn't kill him.

So when you set fire to the warehouse, you made sure that Ghost was out of the warehouse far from where he could burn. Then, and only then, you took your exit.

A sense of giddiness came over you as you went back to where you had hid your motorbike, driving back home.

Finally, you had met someone who matched your skills and when you'd inevitably grow tired of him, you would use him to gain access to the CEO of Onyx Corp.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres

This took longer than I thought to finish, but it's fine. The fight scene took me a while because it had been a while since I've written an acton scene. However, I'm happy with this and I'm so excited to do more parts for Vigilante!Reader.

I hope you enjoyed this!

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[mightyflamethrower]

You know how awfully fond I am of the lithium-ion battery stories. Sometimes, the ones I've covered have been semitrailers full of them overturning and lighting off, or a warehouse full, or - more menacing - a battery storage facility close to residential areas that suddenly goes thermal, and evacuations ensue. 

But mostly, I wind up discussing them in the context of the EVs I am equally fond of. *spits* 

This morning, between a note from Global Travlr and a WattsUpWithThat email about the same event, I thought I had my theme set and ready to go. But when researching, I found something even more disturbing. 

Everything is all tied together by battery fires.

Europe is (thankfully) way ahead of us on the climate-culture-induced EV madness, even as far as their public safety vehicles go. Where many American cities are only just beginning to get that first "electric" fire truck...

Elected officials and local luminaries Thursday marked the completion of San Diego's new, environmentally friendly fire station near the UC San Diego campus. Fire Station 52 is two stories tall, has more than 14,000 square feet and is part of San Diego Fire-Rescue Department's Battalion 5. It is the first in the city to feature an electric fire apparatus and rapid electric vehicle charging station. "I'm excited to celebrate the completion of this top-notch facility featuring San Diego's first electric fire truck and rapid charger," said San Diego Mayor Todd Gloria. "Thanks to our partnership with UC San Diego, we're delivering on our promise to increase fire protection and life-safety coverage across San Diego."

...or are bummed the feds dropped the ball paying for the one they already ordered and now the city's stuck with the tab...

...what Green grifting officials in every last venue need to do is pay attention to lessons they could learn from people who have been doing this a lot longer than Americans have.

First things first, for a shiny new fire station like San Diego's, make sure it has a fire alarm system.

Especially if it has *check notes* an electric fire truck or emergency vehicle anything.

A new fire station in Germany that was destroyed in a fire, causing millions of euros in damage, did not have a fire alarm system. The fire broke out early Wednesday morning at the Stadtallendorf fire station in Hesse and destroyed the equipment hall and almost a dozen emergency vehicles, according to local media. Initial estimates put the damage at between €20 million and €24 million. No one was injured.

I would never store one of these vehicles in a garage or any other part of a home. They should be outlawed for multi story apartment buildings.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

David Badash at NCRM:

As the devastation from Hurricane Helene became increasingly apparent over the weekend, MAGA loyalists were falsely blaming the U.S. federal government, Vice President Kamala Harris, and President Joe Biden of ignoring the victims and refusing to provide critical resources. As critics called out their lies, one fascism and authoritarianism expert accused pro-Trump social media accounts linking Ukraine aid to Helene assistance of spreading Russian propaganda.

‘We’re not leaving until the job is done,” President Biden vowed Monday morning in a White House address (video below), saying he expects to tour the areas devastated by Helene this week, likely Wednesday or Thursday—but not until first responders are able to do their work without his presence being “disruptive.” “I’ve been told that if we disrupt, if I did it right now, we will not do that at the risk of diverting or delaying any response assets needed to deal with this crisis.” The President then detailed the scope of the federal government’s response. “I and my team are in constant contact with governors, mayors and local members. Head of FEMA, Ann Griswold, is on the ground now in North Carolina. She’s going to stay in Asheville, and that place of reason for the foreseeable future, there’s been reports of over 100 dead and the consequence of the storm, and there are reports about 600 people unaccounted for because they can’t be contacted. God willing they’re alive, but there’s no way to contact them again because of the lack of cell phone coverage.”

“I directed my team to provide every available resource as fast as possible to their communities, to rescue, recover and to begin rebuilding,” Biden said. He noted that FEMA, the Federal Communications Commission, the National Guard, the Army Corps of Engineers, and the Department of Defense are on the ground.

“So far, that’s over 3600 personnel deployed. That number is growing by the day.”

“I quickly approved requests from governors of Florida, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia and Virginia and Alabama for an emergency declaration. And I approved additional requests for the governors of North Carolina, Florida, South Carolina, and for disaster declaration to pay for debris removal, provide financial assistance directly to survivors. FEMA and Small Business Administration are there to help the residents whose homes and businesses were literally destroyed, washed away or blown away, and the federal search and rescue teams have been working side by side with state and local officials and partners in very treacherous conditions to find those who are missing and they’ll not rest until everyone’s accounted for.” “Your nation has your back, and the Biden Harris administration will be there until the job is done,” the President promised. He also suggested he may ask Congress to return from its extended recess to approve additional funding for the areas devastated by Hurricane Helene.

MAGA propagandists repeat Kremlin talking points to falsely insinuate that President Joe Biden and VP Kamala Harris are “ignoring” Hurricane Helene and that Ukrainian aid is getting priority over American citizens.

The fact is that President Biden and VP Harris are doing everything possible to help out those affected in Helene’s path, including by immediately declaring disaster areas that were impacted.

Both Harris and Biden are expected to tour storm-damaged areas later this week, but not until first responders are able to help without draining critical resources.

[theballadofmars]

Something I don't get is why part of the stardew valley fandom is constantly valoring the spouses and who is better and who is worse and why if you choose this character you have the worst taste ever and you don't deserve to make decisions.

Like, we're playing a game that lets you avoid reality, create your own farm and flirt with the local neighbours, we're here chilling and planting crops and blackmailing the mayor, why do we need to fight because this character is childish or this is boring? Can't we just love the game and the spouses, instead of puting them against each other to show others why they shouldn't have this as their fav character?

Also, there's people with vivid imagination who give the characters more backstory and personality traits than what the game shows us. I've seen lots of amazing fanarts and read some fics that I liked a lot, and I love how every creator has their own story about how the farmer lives their daily life in pelican town.

After all, kindness is an important part of the game.

...and destroying capitalism. That's important too.

[verdemoun]

I. I need to know. Hosea's first few weeks or even months in modern times. How was he found? How was he with Bessie? How'd he adjust? Anything he loved/hated in particular? AND BESSIE???? HOSEA AND BESSIE STUFF IS JUST *CHEFS KISS*

spare some crumbs for a hosea fan im begging

HOSEA BELOVED

Waking up was more peaceful than it had any right to be for Hosea. It was more like the slow confused raise of his head like he'd just fainted for a second. Bessie was the first thing he saw and he just melted into a smile so relieved and in love and happy to see her again before he started to realize she had aged, her hair was cut in a fashion he'd never seen before and wearing a skirt that fell just below her knees? Scandalous? Hot??

Admittedly any happy reunion was cut short by the revelation Lenny also died/timewarped just a few minutes after him and was having a much more violent awakening still wheezing and gasping for breath as if he was still trying to breathe through a collapsed lung. Comforting the young man he calls son was more important than simping. (Sean was fashionably late but soon took over because Lenny very much needed and wanted Sean more)

Did not give a single fuck about how or why or where he was. He held Bessie's face gently and kissed her like he expected the Devil to appear and drag him to the Hell he rightfully deserved after his lifetime.

Absolutely lovesick. Being able to stare at his wife who was still so beautiful with age so happy so healthy the way she looks at him with the same affection in her eyes takes away even the slightest fear or nausea on the drive home. Fortunately Lakay to Blackwater is a significant drive so they got to be introduced to a lot of modern era through passing through cities and towns on the trip.

People forget Hosea absolutely believed in all Dutch's anti-government freedom rhetoric so much - they were shared ideals they originally bonded over. They were the start of the VDLs. He would hate so much of modern era. Laughed the first time he saw taxes on Bessie's payslip and then got angry. First slang term he learns to use correctly is ACAB. Learning that the government recognized retirement age is 65-67? The government would expect him, at 55, to get a job? Bessie can't just retire and spend every waking moment in his arms?? Livid.

His saving grace is his wife. He loves her so, so much. She is practically a beast tamer, how quickly she can touch his arm and kiss his cheek and suddenly he's too happy and content in love to even think about setting the mayor's perfectly manicured garden on fire.

He never learns technology. He is still happy with newspapers and books thank you very much he genuinely does not understand wikipedia and thinks everyone is so intelligent when they look at their phone and suddenly know the answer to a question he asked. Bessie is secretly grateful she is almost certain if there was written record of the things he said about local council he would get arrested.

Hosea was the one to have the obligatory 'no i'm old and hideous now there's no way you could love me' moment because he thinks Bessie's wrinkles and grey hair and signs of age are as perfect as she is. Yet, he finds the exact same things in himself deformities. Bessie assures him he is as handsome as the day she fell in love with him.

Since Bessie is very happy with her job as a professor and Hosea detests much of modern era he is very happy being the house husband. He learns to use appliances and takes over cooking. He makes recipes from magazines and proper cook books. He is the ideal domestic man he is chasing the boys out the door to go to work/get a job with the same energy as his famous 'do something!!' lecture so he can mop and make sure the house is perfect for his beautiful hard working woman's return.

Bessie might dress modestly to most people's standards but coming from 1899 Hosea absolutely loses his mind. His wife wearing pants? Hot. A cardigan with just a shirt underneath? Practically in a state of undress? Genuinely concerned they could get arrested. Watching her do her hair nice and wear cheap jewelry that looks aesthetically nicer than fine jewels in 1899? Acts like he's dating a countess would crawl behind her if she told him to. 50s housedress that hug her waist? Old man is feral.

Honestly their modern era life is just everything Hosea craved and missed and mourned for when settling down with Bessie didn't work because of his stubbornness in 1883. He has absolutely no desire to return to crime (because getting away with crime is significantly harder in modern era (he still crimes. man is a kleptomaniac who plays confused old man with dementia whenever he gets caught)) after a proper second chance to do things right with Bessie. They read together, they listen to music, slow dance in the living room, go on walks through parks holding hands making everyone who sees them wish they had what Bessie and Hosea have.

Side note: Hosea very much has a type. Bessie is as strong-willed and sharp-tongued as Dutch and it is very obvious to anyone who sees how tightly she has him wrapped around his finger. She holds so much power over him just because of how much he loves her. Full Gomez Adaams 'look at her. i would die for her. i would kill for her. either way what bliss'. Fortunately, she is a genuinely very kind, patient, loving person who adores Hosea for the person and way he is and does not abuse the complete control she could have over husband.

[heartfullofleeches]

So I’ve been in love with your sheriff reader but what if another sheriff came to town and saw how everyone loves reader and wanted that for themselves like they don’t really care about anything or the bandits they just want everyone to love them an not reader so they try an take over an og sheriff reader sees this as in a relaxing opportunity (sorry if it’s long)

Tw: reference violence, bullying

Cracked ice settles at the bottom of a glass as dark liquid fills it to brim. The sheriff's weighted head pivots to an upright angle as the drink is brought to lips posed in a crude smile; a blemish compared to the cloyingly sweet expression they wore days prior. They can barely process their surroundings; blurry shapes crowded around them and suffocating them more than the tight robes that binding them to their seat. A sharp jab from behind brings them to attention; the shrill laughter that follows corrected by a whistle.

"Now, folks. I know we agreed to a collaboration, but don't think that means you have the right to rough up our friend here more than needed."

Dryness coats the temporary sheriff's throat as they croak. "M...mayor?"

"Guilty as charged." The mayor bends to their level. They take one long sip from the glass in hand before shaking it in their direction. "Thirsty?"

The sheriff becomes painfully aware of their dehydration as the condensation from the glass wets their cracked lips. How long had they been out? Pushing the question to the back of their mind, they part their lips and allow the cool liquid to hit their tongue. It burns as swashes against their spilt cheek, but they gup it down with no other option. Their head returns to its orginal option as the mayor retracts their hand; hat dipping down their face. The mayor's calm expression wilts into annoyance.

"Ugh.. Take that shit off them already. Don't know why you haven't by now. Need to get it cleaned before Y/n gets back."

Hands grip their battered form; tearing the sheriff's hat from head and badge from coat. Still dressed otherwise- they've never felt more exposed.

"I don't understand. What's.. what's going on?"

"What's going on indeed.." The mayor stands up; a hand tangled in their hair keeping the sheriff's eye on them as they return to their desk. "From how I see it, some big city hot shot though they could weasel their way into our town and replace the one thing that keeps this place running. Our sheriff."

The sheriff swallows the blood clinging to the sides their mouth; a delicacy compared to the bitter truth that follows. Back home, they had it good, but it wasn't perfect. High paying gig, the love and respect of their community, but they still yearned for more. They longed for the homemade pies and the comforting familiarity of everyone worshiping them, while still valuing the face behind the mask. The unwavering trust. All tokens of which you had.

It was easy to get you to agree. Chased after by those you were meant to pursue; longed for unknowing by the person who wrote your checks. All they had to do was slip a few highlights of the city into your brain, and you were packed and ready to go. The mayor orginally protested your departure, but couldn't say no to their dear sheriff. You did deserved a little break after all you've been though - long as you had a few uninvited visitors making sure you were safe.

The temporary sheriff had it good for the first week. The finest room in the local motel. A different meat brought to them every other day. Someone must've been sewing near the pot during the making of one meal, but fortunately they spotted the needle before wolfing down the entire stew. Their dream life came crumbling down the day they decided to put in a payment for a recently vacated home, and everyone caught onto their plans before they'd even reached mid stage.

"I'm.... sorry."

"Sorry-" The mayor's eyes roll so far they appeared as if they'd pop right out of their skull. They lurch forward, sinking their digits into the delicate flesh of the sheriff's jaw; teeth clenched as all kindness is forgotten. "Don't you fucking lie to me, you hear? I know, you know, they know you aren't sorry. The only thing you're sorry about is that you got caught."

The sheriff whimpers as they're let go; nail markers and shame branding their skin. An arm props up on their shoulder, elbow dug right into the center of the torn muscle. The bandit leader flicks their ear as they tip your hat on their head; proudly dawning your badge without a lick of guilt.

"Eazy now. You call us the bad guys yet you're the one being mean. Here, lemme give them something to wear better than the sheriff's stuff real quick."

A round of cheers and soft snickering rings throughout the small room as a wad of spit connects with the sheriff's cheek. The bandit wipes their mouth with their sleeve

"Thought you were slick, huh?" Sack of shit like you, comparing yourself to a prize like our sheriff. You should be thanking the corrupt bastard in front of you. If they hadn't called us in, we would've strung you up by your ankles and dragged you through the streets like the filth you are. Speaking of which, what are we gonna do with this thing, boss."

The mayor ignores their mockery to allow a soft smile to form over their lips. "We have about half a week before our loved one returns so only time will tell, friends. Only time will tell."

[hatchetfield-omegaverse]

Not A Perfect Guardian

Summary: When Ted Spankoffski adopted his baby brother, he vowed to be the best guardian he could be. And now that Pete has his first girlfriend, he's determined to live up to that promise. That's just what good brothers do, right?

Or

Ted Spankoffski's Guide On What (Not) To Do When Your Brother Brings Home His First Girlfriend

Warning: Contains an extremely brief reference to self harm.

A/N: This one goes out to pretzel anon, who gave me the idea for this fic. I hope you like it. And shoutout to @lady-loveluck for beta reading this!

Takes place shortly before the events of Putting the 'D' in Study.

When he had adopted his brother 7 years ago, Ted Spankoffski vowed that he'd do his damnedest to be a good guardian. Sure, he was a Grade A asshole, but he knew that Pete would need better than that now that their parents were dead. So he tried to not act like a total dick around his brother: he drove Pete to every therapy appointment, he kept juice on hand at all times in case his blood sugar dropped, he even had a standing reservation at the local Omega hotel so Pete could go there when his heat started without having to say anything. Ted might not have been perfect, but he damn well tried.

He liked to think that he had done a good job too. There had been hiccups of course, maybe he should have picked up a parenting book or two, but he was proud to say that Pete was doing good in life: he had good grades, a scholarship lined up for college, and he was even saving up to buy a used car. Ted couldn't have fucked him up that much, right?

There was only one area where Pete struggled, and it was one of the few things out of Ted’s control: he was a complete and utter nerd. He had a couple friends -Ruth and Richie came over practically every weekend- but it didn't take a genius to see that Pete was an outcast at school. He tried to help as best he could, bandaging up any injuries and giving fashion advice (Pete had a hard enough time being one of the only male Omegas at school, he didn't need to make it worse for himself by wearing a fucking bowtie and suspenders everyday), but it was clear that his baby brother's social status was firmly planted to the floor.

Teenagers were assholes, Ted certainly remembered what school had been like when he was a teen. Everyday Pete came home with some story of the new ways his classmates had chosen to torment him, and everyday Ted had to remind himself yet again that it wasn't worth it to go to jail for punching a high schooler. It seemed like it would take a miracle for him not to be somebody’s punching bag.

It was why Ted was so uneasy when Pete mentioned that he was tutoring Stephanie Lauter everyday after school. He knew who she was of course, being the mayor’s daughter meant that she was at every public event. It also meant that her reputation preceded her.

It wasn't like he was worried that she'd be a bad influence on Pete. If anything, Ted thought Pete should join the smoke club so he might relax a little. But Ted also knew that she was considered popular And why wouldn't she be? Stephanie Lauter was rich, pretty, and a High Tier Alpha to boot. And if that wasn't evidence enough, he had seen her around town: shopping at Lakeside Mall, going to the movies, or even just frequenting the local coney island. She was always accompanied by someone that Ted knew had picked on his brother.

It wasn't a stretch to think that she could easily ruin Pete's life if she wanted to. One rumor, one word from her and everyone would go back to calling Pete ‘MicroPeter’ again. He never wanted anything like that to happen ever again; he still had nightmares that Pete started harming again. Of course Ted wasn't an idiot, he knew that voicing these concerns could scare Pete from being social. So he kept these feelings internal, instead joking that Pete didn't have to call it studying and reminding him that there were condoms in the bathroom for him.

Now, Ted wasn't blind. He'd almost immediately noticed Pete's growing crush; it didn't take a genius to notice the way his brother lit up any time her name was mentioned. Ted made his jokes of course, he'd never miss an opportunity to exercise his brotherly rights to tease the other. And yet, as exciting as it was to see his brother finally have a partner, Ted couldn't help but think of the worst possible scenario. It was just what he did; he never claimed to be an optimist. Still, he kept those thoughts to himself and enjoyed watching his brother finally act like a normal teen.

He had considerably more trouble keeping it in when Pete sat down and announced that Stephanie Lauter was joining them for dinner on Saturday, so please try to look nice.

“Wow, inviting your study date to meet the family? Things must be getting serious. Have you gone ring shopping yet?”, he joked, taking a swig of the cheapest beer the party store had to offer.

“I just want you to meet her before you see us on a date, ok?”, Pete said as he ruffled through their mom's old recipe cards. Ted nearly choked on his beer.

“You're actually dating?”. Well that was certainly a development. Last he heard, Petey still thought that he'd get his ass beat if he was seen in the halls with her. When the hell did he work up the courage to ask her out?

“She asked me out a couple weeks ago.”, that made more sense, “Look, she wants to meet my family and you're all I've got. So can you behave yourself for an evening or should I tell her it's not a good idea?”.

“Fine, fine. I just thought that my baby brother would tell me that he was dating someone.”, Ted took another sip of beer, trying to at least appear to be nonchalant that his baby brother had his first girlfriend, “So are you still a virgin or should I buy a cake?”.

“Ted!”, the smile that Pete's flustered shout brought on was genuine at least.

“What? I just want to know if I need to start buying you condoms. Or should I buy her condoms? Shit you both have penises.. Fuck it I'm buy you both condoms.”.

Pete jumped up, taking the recipe box with him, “Can we seriously talk about anything else? Anything will do. I am begging you.”

Ted rolled his eyes, “Fine. Sue me for caring if you get an STD.”.

“They're not even called that.”.

“Yes they are. STD: sexually transmitted disease.”.

“Not anymore. They're called STIs now.”.

“Since when? And what the fuck is an STI?”.

“It means sexually transmitted infection. I don't know, it's just what my health teacher said.”

“Yeah and that woman made you pronounce harassment like you're British because she said that the American way sounds like her ass, so I wouldn't trust anything that crackpot has to say.”

“Ted…”

“I probably have to make sure you know how babies are made if she's the one teaching today's youth. Ok when an alpha and Omega love each other very much-”

“I am doing my homework now.”, Pete shouted as he all but ran to his room. Ted laughed, fucking nerd. He took another swig as he thought over this new information. Pete was dating the mayor's daughter. Well it was about damn time. As long as she was with him for the right reasons.

It wasn't that he didn't understand what she saw in him. Ted knew that his brother was a catch, even if he was socially inept and dressed like a walking stereotype of a nerd. And that wasn't just brotherly duty talking either; Pete was smart, kind, and good looking (thank you Spankoffski genes). He could even be funny when he wasn't overthinking every word that left his mouth. That was better than most of the guys in Hatchetfield, Ted included.

He wanted to be truly happy for Pete, he really fucking did. Someone was finally noticing his baby brother, and someone like Stephanie Lauter at that. A nerd dating the most popular girl in school, let alone the whole city: it sounded like something out of one of those dumb teen movies he remembered seeing when he was in high school. But this wasn't some feel good movie meant to make teenagers believe that high school wasn't just misery.

This was the real world, and it seemed a lot more believable that someone like Stephanie Lauter would be willing to date Pete to use him rather than because of any real interest. And Pete would be too smitten to realize what was happening until it was too late. Luckily for Pete however, Ted was determined to make sure that didn't happen. Mayor's daughter or not, Stephanie Lauter was going to date Pete for the right reasons or she wouldn't date him at all.

-

The first step in plan ‘Make Sure Petey’s New Girlfriend Isn't Using Him’ was reconnaissance. He needed to know as much as he could before Saturday came around so that there wouldn't be any surprises. Of course he would have to remain casual to avoid suspicion. The last thing he needed was Pete figuring out his plan and clamming up. He just needed to be chill.

So, when he came home from work the next day, Ted didn't immediately slouch in front of the TV, even if it sounded wonderful. Instead, he made his way to the kitchen, where Pete stood in front of several pans simmering away on the stove.

“I already got us dinner, you don't have to cook.”, he gestured to the grease spotted paper bag sitting on the table, the burgers inside waiting for consumption. He pulled out two styrofoam foam boxes. “I even made sure they put your pickles on the side, weirdo.”, he teased.

“They taste better when they're separate!”, Pete retorted, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence, “And this isn't for tonight. I wanted to make the fillings for the pierogi ahead of time so I have more time to form them tomorrow.”

“Why are you making pierogi?”.

“Steph’s never tried them before, and we both know all the good Polish restaurants are in Hamtramck. So I found Babush's recipe in moms’s recipe box; I'm going to freeze these for Saturday.”, Pete spoke as he focused on the pots in front of him.

“Wow. Homemade Pierogi. You really like this girl.”, Ted looked at the ingredients laid out on the counter.

Pete was quiet for a moment. Ted was beginning to regret his words when he finally spoke, “She deserves better than takeout.”, he admitted.

Ted couldn't help but smile at how smitten the Omega was. Now to make sure that Stephanie Lauter felt the same. “You'll get hella brownie points for a homemade meal, I can tell you that much. Chicks dig guys who can cook.”, he joked.

“Don't call her a chick.”.

“Whatever.”, Ted chewed his burger and focused on his next words carefully. Pete was bound to be offended if he wasn't careful. “Does she know you're an Omega?”, he broached, “I know you don't hide it but you wear the perfume, and you've mentioned that a lot of people think you're a Beta.”.

“She knows.”, Pete turned towards him, “It wore off while we were studying a couple weeks ago.”.

“Right. What did she say?”.

He shrugged, “Steph was cool with it. She said that it's good that I don't have any of that Alpha bravado; I guess a lot of guys get tripped up on her being a Type 1 and act like assholes.”.

Ted nodded, “Sounds like most high schoolers; they're probably scared she has a bigger dick than them.”.

“Ted!”.

“It’s a just joke, Petey.”, he raised his hands in surrender, “How did she ask you out?”.

“The drive-in was having a marathon of 80s movies. She asked if I wanted to go. I didn't realize it was a date until she kissed me.”, Pete turned back to the stove.

“How did you not know that it was a date? She took you to Makeout Lane!”, Ted shook his head in disbelief. He really couldn't understand how they were related in moments like these, “That's literally the only reason you go there!”.

“I thought she just wanted to go with someone who likes old movies! How was I supposed to know that people go there for car sex!”, Pete retorted, “It's not like I go on tons of dates.”.

“Yeah, you're a real Don Juan, missing those signals.”, Ted muttered. Honestly, he would have orgasmed on the spot if a girl had asked him to go to the drive-in back in high school.

“What's with the interrogation, anyway?”, Pete asked, “Why are you so interested in my love life?”.

Shit. He was onto him. Mission abort. “A brother can't be curious about his little brother’s first girlfriend?”, he really should just stop talking, but Ted had a tendency to let his mouth run rampant.

“No, you can't, because you're not in the slightest bit subtle. So ask what you want to ask, or stop.”.

“I just want to know that she's with you for the right reasons.”, Ted sighed.

“The right reasons?”, Pete looked at him incredulously. Ted swallowed, it was too late to back down now.

“I just want to know that she's not using you for her grades.”, he finally admitted. Pete turned around slowly. He blinked once. Twice. Then he spoke, voice shaking with emotion.

“You think that Steph is only with me because I'm smart?”, his fist clenched, “That there's no way a girl like her could possibly like me unless she has some ulterior motives? I'm that unlikeable to you?”, his eyes shone with tears. Fuck. He fucked this up.

“Pete, I didn't mean it like-”, Ted tried but Pete was gone before he could finish his sentence, his bedroom door slamming shut behind him, “-that.”.

Well wasn't he just the worst brother ever.

-

Ted spent the first hour after Pete's outburst in wallowing in his own self loathing. This just proved what he had feared for years: he could never be the guardian that Pete needed. Their parents would have never hurt him that way. Never would have implied that Pete couldn't find love. After he had sufficiently wallowed, Ted came up with a game plan. First was making it up to Pete; he hadn't made pierogi since he was a kid, but by the time he was done they looked halfway decent. They were nowhere near as good as their grandmother's, but they would have to do.

Next was the hardest part, actually apologizing now. Apologizing was about as painful as pulling teeth for the elder Spankoffski, but Pete deserved it. Which was exactly why he was standing outside his door, hot chocolate in hand, working up the courage to knock. It was now or never.

“Pete?”, he knocked, “Can we talk?”. A deafening silence was all that met his words.

“Please?”, he tried again, “I want to talk to you. I didn't mean what I said.”, the silence continued. Ted groaned, this would be a thousand times easier if Pete would just answer him. He briefly considered saying ‘Fuck it.’ and just going to bed. Let him be angry. How dare Ted care about his little brother.

No. No. He hurt Pete and he had to fix this. Even if it meant having to admit he was wrong, “I'm sorry Pete. I really am. I just… You clearly really like this girl. And if she hurts you, I-I don't know what I'll do.”.

“The door's open.”, a quiet voice answered from inside. Grateful, Ted opened the door and walked in. Pete laid on the bed, face pressed into the pillow. He could see the tear stains on the navy pillow case from here.

“I really am sorry.”, Ted sat on the edge of the bed, placing the hot chocolate on the side table, “I don't think any of that about you. But I know how people think and you always wanted to be invisible until recently. And now you're dating the fucking mayor's daughter and- this would be a lot easier if you would look at me!”.

Pete sat up and whatever words Ted had planned died in his throat at the sight of his brother. His skin was red and splotchy, eyes puffy from crying. Ok, maybe it was easier before. “I just want to know that you're going to be ok.”, he finished weakly. Some fucking apology.

“I don't know what she sees in me.”, Pete whispered, “I know what everyone thinks of me, and I don't get why she would ever want to be with me. I've wondered that every day since she asked me out. But for some reason, she wants to be with me, even if I don't get it. I've finally stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.”.

Ted wrapped his arm around him. He was trying to figure out what to say but Pete spoke again, “And then I find out that you think she's using me.. you really believe that?”.

Ted dragged a hand over his face, great. This was just great, “Pete, I… It's hard to explain. She's so lucky to go out with you, you're a great kid. But if she does anything stupid… I'm still worried, but I trust you. If you like her, then I'll try to give her a chance.”.

Pete wiped his eyes, “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”, his lips quirked into a small smile, “I can't believe you actually apologized.”

“Consider it my good deed for the year.”, Ted huffed, “Now drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”.

Pete grabbed the mug and took a drink, “You'll really try not to judge?”.

“Emphasis on try. And if I get the idea that she's using you, then I'm saying something.”, Ted spoke, the words a promise more to himself than his brother, “But I'll give her a chance for you.”.

“Thanks.”.

“Don't mention it. You'll ruin my reputation.”, Ted ruffled his hair, “Why did you make so much filling for the pierogi? I probably folded a hundred of them. I mean seriously, do we really need potato, kraut, and sweet cheese?”.

“Sweet cheese is my favorite kind. And I wanted her to have a variety to try.”, Pete shrugs before realizing, “Wait you finished them?”.

Ted nodded, “This way you have more time for your homework tomorrow.”, he expected a response but Pete only hugged him. Maybe he wasn't such a fuck up of a brother. This would be fine. He could handle dinner with Stephanie Lauter. It was fine.

-

It was not fucking fine. Ted tied his tie for what must have been the gazillionth times, hand shaking in frustration. Pete couldn't possibly expect him to just sit through dinner with Stephanie Lauter without at least trying to find out what her intentions were. Surely, he was allowed to interrogate her a little bit, right? That was his duty as an older brother. It was probably in the handbook or something.

But unfortunately, Pete was determined to make sure that Ted was on his ‘best behavior’ (Pete's words). He’d made the other promise not to try anything several times since their fight. Besides, it wasn't like he could try anything without hurting him.

And now here he stood, getting ready for dinner as the sounds of his brother cooking came from the kitchen. Ted had offered to help him with the cooking, but Pete was determined to do this by himself. He was debating if Pete would notice if he took a shot or two of whiskey when a knock sounded from the front door of their apartment, burying any further ideas of liquid courage. It was showtime.

He left his room only to be met with the sight of Stephanie Lauter in his living room, her and Pete sharing a chaste kiss. Pete's feelings for the Alpha seemed even more obvious now that she was here. Ted coughed. They practically jumped apart, their cheeks a matching shade of crimson. He couldn't hold back a snort.

“I'm glad I got the large pack of condoms then.”, he commented.

“I.. Steph this my brother Ted, Ted this is Stephanie. My girlfriend.”, Ted eyed Stephanie up and down. For her part, Stephanie didn't back down from his stare, instead sizing him up. Well, she certainly had the confidence of a Type 1, that's for sure.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr.Spankoffski.”, she spoke, offering a hand out, “I've heard a lot about you.”.

“Mr.Spankoffski was my father. Call me Ted.”, he shook her hand a bit too forcefully, “And I could say the same thing about you. Petey here can't stop telling me how amazing you are.”.

Pete squawked indignantly from beside her, ears turning red in embarrassment. Ted ignored him and instead gestured to the apartment. “Are you going to come in or are you going to continue your statue impression in my front door?”.

That seemed to snap the pair to action, Pete guiding Stephanie to the couch as if it wasn't in immediate eyeshot from the moment you stepped into the apartment. Ted shook his head and sat down in an old recliner, observing the way they never stopped touching. Jesus, was he this sappy when he was a teenager? It was like they were in some bad romcom with the amount of affection they had for each other.

“Dinner will be done in just a bit, I hope you like Polish food.”, Ted was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Pete's voice. He watched as his brother sat down, clearly trying not to sit as close to Stephanie as he wanted to. Nerd.

“I've never had it before but it smells good.”.

“Pete here has been cooking all morning, he banned me from the kitchen hours ago. It's like our Babush possessed him.”, Ted deadpanned, shocked as she laughed at his joke. Well that was something.

“I can picture it.”.

They were interrupted by Pete quite literally jumping up out of his seat, “I need to check the food. Give me just a second, Steph. I'll be right back.”, he shouted as he all but ran to the kitchen

“Oh don't worry, we'll be alright.”, Ted called after him. He waited for approximately ten seconds before turning back to Stephanie. Finally. “So you and Pete, hmm?”, he commented, making sure his tone was neutral.

“Yep.”, Steph replied, crossing her legs, “He seems nervous about tonight.”.

“Well I suppose it's to be expected, especially since you're his first girlfriend. I'm sure you can understand that, can't you?”.

Stephanie nodded and leaned forward, “I can. You're not like people say you are.”. Ted raised his brow.

“Oh?”.

“No. You clearly care about Pete. I'm glad I didn't judge you beforehand. I mean, could you imagine how bad it would be if I wrote you off as some creepy weirdo. Pete would be devastated.”.

“Is that so?”.

“Yep. I know I'd hate it if someone judged me based on my reputation rather than actually getting to know me.”.

Busted (yet again). Great. Time to deescalate the situation, “Well I'm sure you can understand why someone would want to be sure of your intentions.”.

“I am. But I also know that I love Pete, and I never want to hurt him. If you got to know me, I'm sure you'd see that.”.

Ted snorted at her blunt words. Well there goes any subtlety. “If you break his heart-”, he started.

“If I break his heart, you have my full permission to beat my ass.”, Stephanie- Steph interrupted. She smiled as she continued, “But you might have to get in line because I'd beat myself up first. Pete is amazing and he deserves the best.”.

Ted nodded, satisfaction washing over home at her answers, “Glad we agree on that.”. Pete deserved far better than what life had dealt him, but it seemed that fate had finally given him something good.

“Fresh start then?”, Sheasked.

“Fresh start.”, Ted repeated, “It's nice to finally meet you, Steph.”.

“It's nice to meet you too, Ted.”.

“Well thank fuck that's squared away. I hate having to be a responsible adult.”, Ted mumbled, watching as Steph laughed at him. He liked her already. They were interrupted by Pete calling from the kitchen that dinner was done and they should wash up.

“Well, I suppose we should get in there.”, she made her way to the kitchen, “I don't want to miss out on trying homemade Polish food.”. He nodded and stood up to follow.

Ted Spankoffski had promised himself seven years ago that he was going to be the best guardian he could be to Pete. And it seemed like he was doing a pretty damned good job: Pete had good grades, a scholarship lined up for college, and now, a good girlfriend who loved him. Ted couldn't have fucked up that badly. He might not have been a perfect brother, but he damn well tried.

-

A/N: If you liked this, please feel free to leave a comment telling me what you think! And thank you so much to everyone for your support. It means so much to me seeing how much people like this au.

Taglist:

@forever-forgotten-angel

@lady-loveluck

@panzershrike-pretz

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

A Christmas Carol 🕯️ Anthony Lockwood

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: It only takes three ghost (one form the past, one from the present and one from the future) and one Anthony Lockwood for you to realize that you maybe don't hate Christmas as much as you had thought. 

Warnings: angst, trauma, grief, mention of suicide, English is not my native language

Word Count: 11k

A ghost from the past

As a kid you had loved Christmas. In winter the nights were long, and with The Problem everybody had to stay inside, but Christmas was the part of winter, which made it endurable. However, this was before your family sent you to die by signing you up as an agent. This was before you had to watch your whole team die last year in the Christmastime. Now you hated it with burning passion. Winter was, by far, the worst season, and not even Christmas made any difference to you.

As an agent the Christmastime was shit. Thanks to the long winter nights you had to work overtime, and even on Christmas Eve the ghosts didn’t stop their hauntings, so you couldn’t sit under the Christmas tree and drink eggnog. Furthermore, Christmas was the time of year when most people committed suicide. That meant less time to rest for you and every other agent in London.

A week and a half before Christmas your team had a job a few miles outside the city. The town was small, and everywhere you looked you saw Christmas decoration.

As you walked by a glowing snowman you wanted to puke. Your not-so-subtle gagging noises made your team laugh. You were working together for less than a year, and they couldn’t reach your old team. But your old team was dead, and they were here, so point for them, you guess?

Reaching the waist tall wall, which separated the town from the surrounding fields, you stopped. The mayor of this small town had reached out to Fittes, because a few kids had seen two visitors on the field. From the description you guessed that you would have to deal with Gallows Wraiths. Not your favourite type of visitor but your team would handle it.

“That is bad”, Archie, your researcher stated, as he came to stop next to you. “The books stated that the gallows were next to a tree.”

However, far and wide was no sign of a tree. What a fantastic start to an awful night, and the sun hadn’t even set yet. After the description given be the mayor and Archie’s finding, that back in the days the gallows had stood here, it wasn’t a hard guess that you were searching for remains of said gallows. Therefore, every member of your team was equipped with a shovel. But without a tree you didn’t know where you had to start digging, not to mention that the field was large.

Thoughtfully you tilted your head. It was your call what the team should do. After last Christmas nobody, least of all you, had thought that Fittes would give you an own team, but here you were. Normally you also had a supervisor, who would say what to do in such situation. But after he gave you a car ride to this town, Frank decided that it was too cold outside for his old bones, and therefore he stayed insight the mayors house, letting you fend for yourself.

Feeling that you were getting nervous you glanced at your watch. In maybe half an hour the sun would set. Until then, you needed a plan, and an iron circle for protection.

“Stephen you will set up an iron circle on the other side of this wall, Archie please check our bags, that we really brought everything, and Hanna, you and I will try to find a clue, where the gallows was standing back then.”

At least your team didn’t hesitate to follow your order, and everyone set into action. Hanna’s Talent was touch while you were a listener with surprisingly good touch. Therefore, it was always your twos job to localize the source. Leaving the shovels back by the boys you both climbed over the wall.

To find the old gallows wouldn’t be easy even with your talents. The last light of the sun still touched the field in front of you and suppressed the energy of the source, making it almost impossible to discover it. There was a reason why agents worked at night.

“Let’s split up”, if Hanna and you would stay together you would need the whole night to search the large field, that wasn’t an option.

With your ears perked up you wandered off to the left side. But all you heard was the crunch of your boots on the frozen earth. Disappointed but not surprised you glanced to Hanna. She was kneeling while her hand touched the soil. Hopefully she found something. Spending the entire night in that field wasn’t on your to-do list. It was already cold, and your Fittes uniform didn’t help to keep the chilling air at bay. You didn't even want to imagine how cold it would get when the sun went down, and the ghosts came out to play.

“Please tell me, that you found something”, by the sound of your voice Hanna jumped. Apparently, she didn’t hear you coming.

“Doesn’t this look awfully close to root remains to you?”

Crouching down, you had a closer look at the ground. All your life you lived in big cities and with The Problem, you weren’t a big outdoor fan. Therefore, you weren’t exactly sure, but one thing was certain, the soil here looked different from the rest of the field.

Closing your eyes, you took a page of Hanna’s book, and also laid your hand on the frozen earth. The first thing you felt was- not surprising- the fucking cold. But there was something else, deep inside the earth it had taken root. It made you tremble, a sick feeling spread inside your stomach and let a winning smile appear your lips. You found the place, where the gallows had been standing. Maybe this night would be tolerable.

You barely managed to set up a double circle of iron chains around the spot before the night started. Like every good team, you took turns digging. After one and a half hour of just switching who was digging, finally something happened.

You were just, taking a sip out of your thermos flask as Stephen next to you reached for his rapier. He was the Seer of your little group, and often he saw the visitors before the dreadful feeling, signalling their presence, washed over you. This time was no difference. Following Stephens gaze you discovered them. There were two of them, ghost mist had formed at their feet as they slowly floated towards you. You knew from experience that they could go much faster, but the fight just started.

The kids who had the sighting reported, didn’t lie. From the look of it, both ghosts were male, their heads were in such a weird angle that you got goosebumps. You hated Wraiths, why did they have to look like the way they died, that was disgusting.

Seeing their broken necks, you couldn’t help thinking about the last time you encountered Gallow Wraiths. The case had been at Mallows End in Wimbledon and Quill Kipps Team and your team had joined together. Because your team leader and Quill had been very good friends, you often had worked together and every time it had gone well. This time had not been an exception, fast you had rounded up the cluster of Wraiths, had neutralized the source and also had saved the team of Lockwood and Co. A victory like it was written in the books. You could still hear the sniggers of your best friend as you had spotted the team of Lockwood and Co. covered in earth and salt. Back then, that night, you had felt on top of the world. Now, not even a year later everything had changed. Your life had been better in the past, and while your friends stayed there you were forced to life alone in the present. If you could turn back time, you would do it without hesitating. Your life had been so much better before that night and every minute, with every breath you took, you missed them like crazy.

“Y/N, what should we do”, the sound of Stephens voice brought you back. Closing your thermos flask, you pulled out your rapier.

“We fight them off, of course”, to give Archie and Hanna more time to find the source. Lifting your rapier higher you took a deep breath before stepping outside the protection circle. You already lost one team; it wouldn't happen to you a second time.

Wraith, especially Gallows Wraith, were an aggressive kind of Type II ghosts. After only ten minutes of fending one off, the second one was handled by Stephen, you were soaking with sweat. Flinging a salt bomb, you watched breathless, as the ghost vanished, before you could hit him. Shame about the wasted salt bomb, but that could only mean one thing.

“We contained the source”, Hanna yelled from the hole she had dug. Relieve flowed through you and your body suddenly felt tons lighter.

“Great work everybody, let’s pack up everything and get back, I’m tired as fuck.”

Within a few minutes everybody had gathered his stuff, and you were on your way back to the little town. By the wall, Stephen rolled up the iron chains, he had left there, and then you all climbed over and wandered into town. With your thoughts you were already home ready to climb inside your bed. The last month had been hard for you, and your team, and now you wanted nothing more than to fall into your bed and sleep till noon. But hearing a loud yell thwarted your plans.

“Did you hear that?”, you turned to the others to make sure, that this wasn’t something you picked up with your talent.

“I think it came from this house?”, Archie pointed to a plain town house, and you all exchanged glances. It felt wrong to just ignore it. What if there was a ghost problem? But it wasn’t just your choice to made, your team also had to be on board.

“I know we are all tired, but we should check that out”, the other nodded approvingly and with that it was decided. Picking up your rapier, your hearth started to beat faster. Of course, you were nervous. You knew what could go wrong in your field of work, and what the consequences could be. To walk inside an unknown house without knowing what was waiting for you, could be a death sentence. But there was a person in need and your old team would be turning in their graves if you just walked away.

“We don’t know what will be waiting inside for us, so be alert and stay together”, you reminded your team while walking up to the house. Stopping in front of the front door you checked a last time, that everyone was ready, then you tried to open the door.

Unexpectedly the door wasn’t locked, but that wasn’t the biggest surprise. When you saw the chaos in the hallway, your eyebrows shot up and your mouth felt open. Was that George Karim lying under a fallen cupboard? From his colleagues Anthony Lockwood and Lucy Carlyle was no trace to be seen. The only other presence, beside Karim and your team, was the ghost, who was hovering over Karim. Slowly the ghost was reaching out and George tried desperate to free his hands to protect himself.

You on the other hand had seen enough. Grabbing a salt bomb, you hurled it at the ghost and with a wail it vanished. Losing no time, you rushed over to Karim.

“Help me”, you voiced to Hanna and Archie, before you threw Stephen a look, “Cover us!”

The three of you managed with a lot of huffs and complaining -manly from Karim- to free him.

“Where are the others and what are we dealing with?”, you gave Karim no time to recover from his time under the cupboard. This was a possible life-threatening situation, and you needed information to ensure the safety of your own team.

“Lucy is trying to find the source and Lockwood was locked in the cellar by a series of unfortunate events.”

Sceptical you exchanged glances with Hanna. A series of unfortunate events? This was Lockwood and Co, what did you expect? Without asking what he meant with this, you viewed your team and Karim. You needed a game plan, fast.

“Hanna please find Carlyle and help her by her search”, you began and with a nod she went in the direction Karim was showing her. “Stephen, Archie you both will hold the ghost at bay, and you and me, Karim, we will free Lockwood.”

You had enough fighting for one night and of course, you couldn’t miss your chance to free Lockwood and to gloat while doing it. You and Lockwood weren’t enemies but also not exactly friends. In front of your inner eye, you could already see Lockwood’s face, when he realized, who saved him. Oh, that would be so good. You couldn’t wait. Your mood was, for the first time this month, sky rocking.

“Please be not too hard on him, Y/L/N”, Karim begged you, while you two were on your way to the cellar. You just threw him a wink which made him massage his temples.

“You don’t understand, he will be unbearable.” That sounded like a problem for Karim, not for you.

When you reached the basement, you understood, what Karim meant with a series of unfortunate events. Several pieces of furniture had tipped over and were blocking the door. At this sight you were glad, that you took Karim with you. You were tired and would have been damned if you had to move all the furniture yourself.

“Lets the fun begin”, you stretched, before taking on the first furniture, a shelf. In silence Karim and you removed the furniture and when you pushed the last piece of furniture away sweat stood on your forehead and your arms hurt. Unfortunately, Karim beat you to it and opened the door. You took advantage of this and wiped the sweat from your forehead.

“George, what took you so long, I was-”, stepping through the door, Lockwood abruptly stopped when he saw you. As a reaction you only send him a bright smile. That made him blush, which only increased your smile.

“What are you doing here, love?”, awkwardly he cleared his throat.

“My team and I were just passing by, when we heard you needing help, pretty boy.” You didn’t know when you began with the nicknames. Thinking about it, you were sure, that Lockwood started it.

“We had everything under control?”

“This is what you call this chaos?”, amused you looked directly into his deep brown eyes. For a moment you just gazed at each other, till he looked away. A total win in your books.

“Do you both want to continue to flirt, or should we go back to the others?”, Karim chimed in and with this he succeeded in making both Lockwood and you blush.

“We weren’t flirting!”

“We flirting? Stop joking Karim!” You both yelled at the same time.

“Whatever help you both sleep at night.”

You met the others in the hallway, where you left Archie and Stephen. It looked like Carlyle and Hanna had found the source and contained it. Perfect, so now, after your small detour, you could find Frank and take the van back to London. Nobody looked hurt, which elicited a sigh of relief from you. After what happened last year around Christmas, every time your team finished a job unhurt, you felt a weight lifted from your chest.

“Good job everybody”, without missing a beat Lockwood shifted in the role of a leader, long forgotten was the awkward situation in the basement.

“We did most of the work, so we should get the payment for this case”, he continued, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Without your team, Karim would be ghost-touched, and he would still be rotting in the basement. But you were too tired to argue with him and frankly, you didn’t care. Your team already finished a case this night, and you wouldn’t get paid more by Fittes by finishing another.

“If that makes you happy, why not?”, you stated, and it looked like your team agreed with you. Thanks god, the last thing you needed right now was, that one of them started to chew you out, for letting Lockwood and Co. keep the source.

“Why, thank you love”, he threw you a wink and for the second time in only a few minutes you rolled your eyes.

“Keep that up, and you can’t catch a ride with us back to London”, you shot back and before Lockwood could say anything stupid, Carlyle butted in.

“Please, it would be great if you could give us a ride back. I would kill to sleep in my own bed and not here.”        

Maybe you miscalculated a little bit. Maybe the van was a little bit too small for one adult, seven teenagers and all your equipment. Stephen was the lucky one and got the front seat next to Frank, while the rest of you were seated in the two rows in the back.

You ended up pressed between Lockwood and Archie in the middle seat. The only problem was that the middle seat was too small, that you were actually sitting either on the lap of Lockwood or Archie. This was a lose-lose-situation. Archie was thirteen years old, and you worked together while Lockwood was Lockwood.

At the end you opted to sit half on Lockwood’s lap and half in the empty space between the two boys. But you quickly realized that this wasn't a good solution either. Frank wasn’t a calm driver, he hit every pothole there was, and every time you nearly went flying. Only Lockwood’s arm around your waist stopped you from getting injured. Afterwards you always had to shuffle around, to find your seating position again.

After the third pothole Lockwood had enough. Without warning, he pulled you against his chest, that you were completely sitting on his lap. You couldn’t help to blush profoundly, and you were glad, that it was dark inside the car. At least you had stopped your startled yelp before it could escape your mouth.

“That’s easier”, he whispered against your ear and his breath on your skin gave you goosebumps. You always had liked pretty boys and Lockwood was exactly this, a pretty boy. Your old team had known this. They always had teased you about it, but this banter had died with them.

“Admit it, you just want me closer”, there was a bold smile on your lips as you tried to steady your heartbeat.

“Oh yes, totally”, you could hear the smile in his voice. And after a brief pause, he added, “Thank for helping us tonight, love.”

“For you, pretty boy, always.”

A ghost from the present

Tomorrow marked the anniversary of the worst event of your life. While everyone around you got into Christmas spirit by singing Christmas songs and buying presents, you were slowly becoming only a shell of yourself. More often than not you woke up screaming and soaked in sweat. Thankfully with your promotion to team leader you also had got your own room in the Fittes dorm, so you didn’t wake anybody else up with your screaming. All the sleep loss was gradually wearing you down, and it would have been a smart choice to request sick days. But who said that you were smart? At least not you.

This led to you finding yourself in a small one-room apartment in south London. The last tenant, a young woman, had committed suicide, and now it was your job to ride this flat of her ghost. After a quick talk with the landlord, who was a total asshole, and only interested to get the apartment ghost-free, so new tenants could move in and pay him money, you joined back with your team.

They already set up an iron circle, a precaution Fittes dictated their agents to do if there was a chance that the ghost would be a Type II. As one of Fittes prestige teams you always got the cases with Type II visitors.

Stifling a yawn, you were tired, and it wasn’t even four o ‘clock, you looked out of the window. It was a sad sight; the grey smog was hanging low and obscured the setting sun. You imagined how it was living here all alone. Without any friends and family, without anybody who noticed your disappearance. Nobody had thought about checking on her till the surrounding tenants had reported an unnatural chill at night. She was found one and a half week after she killed herself. Nobody deserved such a fate.

              

The first two hours nothing happened. Your team was sitting inside the iron circle and was sharing Christmas cookies Hanna had baked with her mother. You had to admit this was one of the few perks of Christmas.

Snacking one of the cookies you listened to your team talking. They were chatting about their private life, something you didn’t want to get involved in. Your old team had been like a family to you, and you lost them all. It wouldn't happen to you a second time. You always tried your best to ensure the survival of your team but at the end, so many agents died even without making any mistakes. That's why last year, as you had stood at the graves of your best friends and family, you had vowed never to let another agent get close to you again. You couldn’t feel this pain again, you wouldn’t survive this.

“Do you think I should ask Lucy Carlyle out for a date?”, questioned Hanna, and first you wondered why she was asking the team this question and not her friends, but then you remembered, that Stephen was Hanna’s best friend. They started together at Fittes and since then they were always putted together in the same team. Sometimes they remembered you of your best friend and you. For their sake you hoped that their friendship would have a different ending.

“Isn’t Carlyle dating Lockwood?” confused Stephen wrinkled his nose. Taking a sip of your tea you pricked your ear. That could be interesting.

“I’m not sure, hopefully not”, uncertain Hanna shrugged her shoulders.

“In the van Lockwood cuddled up to Y/N”, Archie chimed in, and you choked on your tea. This snitch!

“She was sitting on his lap, and they were whispering and giggling”, oh you would kill Archie. With joy, you would wring his little neck. Suppressing your murderous tendencies, you stood up.

“I will check the temperature again”, you declared, and no one dared to question you. In this situation your old team would have already pulled jokes. But you painfully remembered that this wasn't your old team.  

The Fittes Manuel for Ghost-hunter stated that the temperature should be taken in all four corners and the centre of the room. A cold spot in a room could help to find the source.

You were just checking the third corner when you heard it. It started with a soft crying, which only got stronger the longer you listened.

Then her misery hit you like a brick. Her sadness was coming over you like a wave, pushing you down and now matter how hard you tried you couldn’t resurface.

She was so lonely; nobody would miss her.

You saw a glow out of the corner of your eyes and without thinking you took a step towards it. There she was floating in front of you, she was beautiful, forever frozen in time. Seeing her, opened your eyes. You were lonely, you were sad, your grief would never vanish. She did the right thing, and you should also do it. Then you would be finally reunited with your chosen family.

Fumbling you tried to pull your rapier free. But before you could follow through a salt bomb exploded between you and the ghost. Your lips escaped a startled yelp as Stephen pulled you back into the iron circle. That was enough to break the ghost-lock. Without realizing you had started to cry.

“Just breath, we handle it”, Stephen whispered, before he stepped out of the iron circle to distract the ghost so Hanna and Archie could find the source. And you? You did exactly what he told you to do. Taking a deep breath, you couldn’t stop crying. You knew that you had been ghost-locked, it hadn’t been your emotions you had felt, but why did it still hurt so much? Death was ugly, you had realized this at the fatal night one year ago while clinching to your life and since then you saw it every night at work. Therefore, you didn’t want to die. Sometimes you just wanted that all the pain stopped. Digging your fingernails into your hand, you tried to ground yourself. The chilling air around you made it hard to remember, that you weren’t back there, that you had survived this dreadful night. And you would survive the following two years till you were eighteen and could stop working as agent without needing the approval of your awful parents first. You couldn’t wait to leave all of this behind.

Even while standing in the iron circle, you could still feel her pain and sadness. You were drowning in her never-ending despair. You tried to distract yourself but only when your team managed to secure the sources your tears dried. Seemingly shaken up you walked towards Stephen.

“Thanks for saving me, I wasn’t myself.”

You couldn’t help to feel ashamed; you were the oldest and most experienced out of your team, but you had been inattentive and had got ghost-locked.

“We are a team, you would have done the same for me”, Stephen reassured you and his words left you with a warm feeling inside your chest.

“Are you alright?”, he followed with a question, you could never answer honestly. Because you weren’t alright, since a year ago you hadn’t been alright, and sometimes, when your loneliness overwhelmed you, you wondered whether you would ever be alright again.

“Yes, why not?”, the lie came easily to you and if Stephen saw through you, he didn't dare contradict you.

“What is the source”, you successfully tried to change the topic.

“A picture of her and a boy, we found it under a loose floorboard”, Hanna butted in while still holding the silver net.

“I can bring it to the furnaces”, you offered, and you could see your team exchange looks. Most of the time you gave the source to your supervisor, and he took care of it, but sometimes an agent of a team did it. Right now, you needed it. You needed to bring her story to an end. Besides, you couldn’t go back in your lonely room, you just couldn’t, not after all what happened.

“We can join you”, Stephen volunteered, but you just shook your head, you had to do this alone.

The furnaces were owned by Fittes, therefore, you didn’t have to wait too long, not like the agents from other agencies.

As you stepped outside it was long past midnight, and it was snowing. You couldn’t help but remember the last time, it had snowed. The snow had spread over London like a thin blanket and for a brief moment had drowned out the loud buzzing of the city. It had just been you and your best friend. You had been on your way back from a case and only had stopped to watch the snow falling. First you had your face turned to the sky, then you had been laughing and dancing together. Back then you had been happy and only eight days later she was dead, and you were fighting for your life in the hospital.

You weren’t realizing that you were crying till you felt something wet dripping from your chin. Not wanting somebody to see you this way, you hastily wiped your face. But you just couldn’t stop. Everything had been too much. Ashamed you looked around before fleeing into the shadow of the building. There you slid down the wall to the ground. Not minding the cold, you cried miserably. Today was the one-year anniversary of their death and you felt so alone. While everyone around you was getting into Christmas spirit you were grieving. Fighting this ghost had only shown you, how lonely you really felt. But you couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t risk it again.

You didn’t know how long you were sitting there. The cold had already creeped inside your bones and left you shivering. First you didn’t hear him coming. Only when he stopped right in front of you, the snow crunching under his converse, you realized that you weren’t alone any more.

“What are you doing here, love?”, you recognized his voice immediately. Gazing up, you heard Lockwood taking a surprised breath as he looked at your face. You could imagine how you were locking, red rimmed and swollen eyes and a runny nose. Without a doubt, you had seen better days.

“Oh love”, he muttered so quiet you almost didn't catch it. Then he started to shred out of his coat. You just could gape like an idiot.

“You must be freezing”, bending down to you, he put his coat around you.

“I can’t-”, he stopped you, before you could shake it off.

“I insist!”, he threw you one of his charming smiles and in the middle of your attempt you froze. Even you had to amid, that this was nice. His coat was still warm from his body heat and smelled just like him. You had to force yourself not to bury your face in it.

“Let’s get you out of this cold, love”, grabbing your half-frozen hands, he pulled you to your feet. He didn’t comment on how cold they were, which you were thankful of; you were already ashamed enough. Furthermore, he didn’t let go of your hand, till you reached your destination, a small café that was still open.

As you entered the café you scanned the customers. Thankfully beside a few kids from the night watch it was empty.

While Lockwood went to the counter, he insisted on paying, you looked for a place in the farthest corner. You were still shivering when Lockwood returned with two steaming cups of tea.

“Why are you so nice?”, you asked as the was taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Not knowing what to say, you just shrugged your shoulders. You weren’t exactly friends; he didn’t have to be nice to you.

“I know what day today is, how are you feeling?” Surprised your eyebrows shot up. You didn’t expect that somebody would realize it.

“Why do you care?”, you repeated yourself.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because nobody else cares.”

This confession silenced both of you. Not able to bear his gaze, you looked down at your tea. For a few moments you both were silent, only the Christmas song playing was heard, before you spoke up again.

“Tonight, we had to handle a ghost of a young woman, who killed herself. She had no one and was only found one and a half week after she killed herself”, you started, and your voice wasn’t more than a whisper. Lockwood had to lean in to hear you.

“I could feel her never ending sadness”, you deliberately left out the fact that her spirit had successful ghost-locked you, “and I couldn’t help to think, that nobody would miss me. If I were her, nobody would have found me.” It hurt to speak it out loud. But it was the truth, and you knew well enough, that the truth hurt.

“I would miss you, love.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“You’re just saying this, because it’s expected in this kind of situation.” Joyless laughing, you looked up for the first time. He was still gazing at you, and you could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he changed the topic breathless, and you weren’t sure. Did you meet before he started his own agency?

“I’m not sure?”, you muttered.

“It was at a rapier competition held by Fittes. You did well, but eventually lost to an older opponent. An older boy tried to comfort you, but weren’t sad, you were just glad that it was over.”

That sounded like you and if you had to guess you would say, the older boy had been Sasha, your old team leader. Oh, how you missed him.

“I have seen you at this day and since then I always saw you.”

For a moment your heart stopped, nobody had ever said something like this to you. Damn you, Anthony Lockwood. You had made a swear to yourself. Why did he have to make it so difficult for you?

“I have sworn to myself to never let another agent in. I don’t want- I can’t feel this pain again”, you told him and while doing this you put all your cards on the table. First you thought he wouldn’t understand it. That he would call you too dramatic. But he surprised you.

“After I lost my whole family, I decided to never get close to somebody again, so I wouldn’t leave anybody behind when I died.”

Hearing that made your heart clench. It looked like both of you knew too well, how it was to get left behind.

“And how is this going for you?”, you had seen him with his team, he would die for them. That was anything but keeping everyone at a distance.

“It gets lonely fast and is totally not worth it”, he confessed, and you scrunched your nose. Somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that you were missing something in this conversation. But what was it?

“So, what do you want to say? That you would like us to be friends?” Lockwood hesitated for a moment, and you feared he would turn you down. But then he presented you with a smile, which made his brown eyes shine.

“I would love to be your friend.”       

                 

When you came home, you could barely keep your eyes open. Turing into the hallway where your room was, you huffed in surprise. You didn’t expect to find Quill Kipps leaning against your door. It looked like, he felt asleep while waiting for you to come home. This gesture elicited a small smile from you. Squatting down you shook his shoulder to wake him up.

“What time is it?”, he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Around four in the morning. I want in my bed, and you’re blocking my door.”

That woke him finally fully up.

“I heard about your case”, he told you while standing up.

Unlocking your room, you kept the door open, so Quill could follow you inside. Moonlight was falling through your window, illuminating your room. Without turning on the light, you stepped up to your desk.

“Considering what day we have, I wanted to ask you how you're doing.”

Looking down at the only picture which was on your desk, the corners were worn out, and the paper was curled from tears, you remembered, that you weren’t the only one, who lost them one year ago. Quill had been Sasha’s best friends. Sometimes you wondered if Sasha and Quill had been more than just friends. But Sasha was dead, so it didn’t matter any more.

“You are the only person, who worries about me”, besides Lockwood, it seems.

Back then, Quill also had been there for you. He had been with you in the hospital, as you had woken up after this fatal night. Not your family, him. He had been with you, as you realized that it hadn’t been a nightmare, as you realized what your new reality was and what was missing from it.

“That’s not true. Your team also worries about you otherwise they wouldn’t have told me, what happened tonight.”

“They aren’t my team, my team is dead”, maybe you shouted this out louder than you intended. And when Quill recoiled, you immediately regretted it.

“If you continue to push everyone away from you, you will end up like the ghost you fought tonight, alone”, Quill snapped and without waiting for your response he turned on the spot and stormed out of the room.

A ghost from the future

The ghost was mocking you; you were sure of it.

But let’s start at the beginning. There were only four days left till Christmas, Quill was still not speaking with you after your latest slip up, and you really regretted what you said. You would even sing a Christmas carol in front of all your colleagues if that meant Quill forgave you. It wasn't until he stopped talking to you that you realized how much you actually needed him. Yeah, you and Lockwood were now “friends”, but since this one night you hadn’t seen each other. Without your daily small talk with Quill, you felt totally alone.

Your case was at an old hotel which was undergoing renovations. With every step the floorboards creaked, and the fact that the visitor had already killed one worker didn’t help to calm your nerves. Your team had started your investigation at the site of the murder. But none of you had picked something up expected the unnatural pulsation which you felt in the entire building.

Therefore, you had decided to split up. While Hanna and Stephen went in one direction you and Archie walked in the other. Shining your flashlight down the dark hallway, you closed your eyes to hopefully pick something up. Yet all you heard was the tapping of Archie’s feet.

“Please, could you just stop”, you snapped, perhaps a little harsher than you intended.

“I’m not doing anything.”

O hell no! These words were enough to fasten your heartbeat. Trying to keep your panic in check, you once turned around in a circle, while shining your torch everywhere you could reach. But no visual sign of the ghost. Nobody could tell you, what kind of ghost was haunting the building. This putted you on edge. Maybe it was a type of ghost short of any kind of visual apparition, like a Screaming Spirit or a Poltergeist, and without you knowing, the ghost was close by. Back in your head you knew that this was highly unlikely, because, except the unnatural pulsation and the tapping, you hadn’t picked anything up. No chill, no malaise, no miasma and also no creeping fear.

“Let’s continue”, you said and turned to the spot where Archie had been standing a few seconds ago.

But now it was empty.

You couldn’t help but curse. What was Archie thinking? He couldn’t just vanish.

“Archie, that’s not funny”, you called into the empty hallway. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel how the flashlight in your hand became slippery from sweat.

“Archie?”, you echoed again and tried not to show your growing angst, not wanting to trigger the ghost.

“Archie?”, he didn’t answer and never before had the silence been so devastating. Pulling your rapier, you started to jog in the only direction he could have vanished. Every room you passed, you checked for him. But he left without a trace.

“Archie?”

Then you heard it. The tapping. With raised rapier you spun around, and there he stood. First you didn’t want to believe your eyes. However, if you had learned one thing, then that you could trust your gut feeling. And the sickening feeling inside your stomach told you, that in front of you stood a ghost. His figure was slightly transparent, while an otherworldly light radiated from him.

“Why are you so afraid, love?”, his voice was soft like velvet. You were torn between running to him and fleeing. But most of all you were confused.

“Y-Y-You are-“

“-dead? Yes”, he finished what you couldn’t say.

“Why are you surprised? Anyone you get too close to dies”, sneered Lockwood.

That wasn’t true! You also wanted to say this, but the words got stuck in your throat. This couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be dead. Overwhelmed tears started running down your cheek.

“I never wanted this”, you sobbed. But that was the thing about guilt, good intentions didn't save you from it.

“I am dead, and you are responsible for it.”

Your first instinct was to apologize, but then it was like somebody had turned a switch. Lockwood would never say something like this to you! If he died, he would solely hold himself responsible. At this moment you finally realized what was happening. You were facing a fucking Fetch. But why did the ghost choose the shape of Lockwood? Did he want to call you out for not having other friends?

Angry and a little bit embarrassed you finally started to fight this motherfucking ghost. All it took was a few hits with your rapier for the Fetch to disappear. Shaken up you took a deep inhale. Sometimes you really hated your job- scratch that- most of the time, you hated this job and cases like this showed you, that you were right in doing so. With the ghost gone an invisible weight lifted from your chest, and you could finally breathe again. Now you just had to find Archie. After what just happened, this should be a walk in the park. Picking up the flashlight you didn’t even knew you had dropped, you tried to listen to your surroundings. First you heard nothing, then slowly you picked up a sobbing. To follow a sobbing in a haunted house always bore a risk. Easily you could stumble in the next nightmare, but you had to risk it. It paid off, turning around the next corner, you saw Archie kneeling in the hallway. Rushing to him, you pulled him into a hug.

“Are you OK? Did it touch you?”, your eyes darted over him in panic.

“My mum”, the younger boy sobbed, and you knew what the Fetch had shown him.

“It wasn’t real, that was a Fetch”, you tried to comfort him, but it didn’t help. Archie was caught in his own world of despair.

“We have to find the others to warn them.”

Continuing to cry he didn’t listen to you. Overwhelmed you rubbed your face. You couldn’t leave Archie here. Even if you would put an iron circle around him, you couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't just step out when the fetch appeared again. But you also couldn't carry him around with you the whole time you were looking for Hanna and Stephen. What should you do? There was only one solution you could think of.

“Get up”, using all your strength, you pulled Archie to his feet before slinging his arm over your shoulder. His entire weight was on you as you navigated your way to the stairs. After only a few meters you were already sweating like crazy. Archie was heavier than he looked.

That was also your downfall on the stairs. Unable to keep both of your weights upright, your leg gave way beneath you. A startled yelp escaped your lips when you felt down the stairs. For a moment it seems like your world was burning. There was pain everywhere. Not wanting to attract the ghost, you bit on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. Was this how you were going to die? Getting ghost-touched after you felt down the stairs? You couldn't accept that; you owed it to the others. Picking yourself up in burning pain, every breath hurt like hell, you staggered towards Archie.

“Please stand up, please”, you begged, and you could have cried as Archie struggled to his feet, groaning.

“Why did you throw me down a stair?”, whined Archie, you couldn’t help to laugh, which hurt, by the way, like hell. At least he was responding again. The rest of the way to the foyer you supported each other. As you entered, Frank your supervisor, who was waiting in an iron circle, looked up.

“What happened?”, he asked alarmed, and you could only imagine how wrecked you both looked.

“Nobody told us it would be a Fetch; we weren’t prepared, and it succeeds in separating us.” This was only the short version of the events, but it was enough to paint the picture.

“I have to go back and get the others”, you declared while helping Archie to sit down inside the circle. Maybe Fetch were rarely aggressive, but they were so confusing that they could be dangerous. They often mimed a loved one and therefore one could easily try to touch them. Everybody knew that touching a ghost was a catastrophic idea.

“Do you have a guess where and what the source is?”, Frank asked and ashamed you had to shake your head. You had no plan.

“So, two of my agents are hurt, two are missing, and we don’t know where the source is?”, summarized Frank, and it was as bad as it sounded. You gritted your teeth in frustration.

“I will call for back up, they will get Stephen and Hanna.”

“Stephen and Hanna could be dead by the time they get here!”

You just couldn’t accept Frank’s decision. Not if it were your team members who could be dying as you were speaking.

“You are hurt, going back could easily be your dead sentence.”

“I know, but I have to do it.”

“OK than go.” He didn’t have to tell you twice. With a grateful nod you hurried of.  

Every breath you took felt like inhaling smoke, it burned like hell. Maybe you sprained one or more ribs by your fall. But you didn’t let the pain slow you down. Quill would throw a fit if he ever found out, that you went back injured to possible face the ghost. But hopefully he would never find out.

“Stephen? Hanna?”, you yelled and tried to keep your voice emotionless. Ghost fed of strong emotions like anger or fear, and you didn’t want to give the ghost more fuel. You stepped inside a windowless hallway and hectic your flashlight darted around. But beside you nobody was here.

“Stephen? Hanna?”, you tried again, and finally you got a response.

“Y/N?”, you heard Stephen.

Fastening your steps, you ignored the pain. Of course, this could be the Fetch, who was toying with you. However, you were desperate. In your mind you were back in the house were your whole team died. But this time you could make the difference; you could save them. This time you would save them. Following the sound of Stephens voice your sprinted around a corner to crash right into him. Before you could fall, he caught you. If he were the ghost, you would be dead now.

“It’s a Fetch, the ghost is a fucking Fetch”, you told him breathless and with newfound horror Stephen returned your gaze.

“I lost Hanna!” 

What did he mean by lost? Did they get separated or was she dead? Dreadful you waited for an explanation. But you never got one.

“Is she-“, you couldn’t say it. But you didn’t have to. Without waiting, Stephen turned around.

“Hanna?”, he yelled and that could mean only one thing. She wasn’t dead, yet.

Following Stephen, you grab his hand.

“You can’t just run off, we have to be focused”, that was rich coming from you, but Stephen didn’t know this.

“You are right, I’m just-“, lost for words Stephen ran his hand down his face.

“It’s OK, where did you see her the last time?”

“Not far from here.”

“Can you show it to me?” Stephen nodded curtly. Without saying another word, he started to walk. While trailing after him, you tried to pick something up, some clue. Fully concentrated you ran your hand over the slowly peeling wallpaper. But you only heard the creaking of the floorboards. You couldn’t help but to asked yourself if you would be too late. Hanna was a good agent, but so had been your friends. Hopefully could you spare Stephen the pain you still felt every day.

You didn’t know how long you were wandering through the labyrinth of hallways. One moment you just heard the creaking under your shoes, the next you heard a tapping. That familiar sound made your blood run cold in your veins. The ghost was close.

“Hanna? Hanna!”, Stephen yelled in front of you, before he took off.

Not wanting to be left behind, to get separated again wasn’t an option, you sprinted after him. Turning the corner, you just barely stopped before crashing in Stephen. Peeking out from behind his back, you saw what had caused him to freeze.

There was Hanna facing the ghost.

“I’m sorry”, she uttered, before she reached out and touched the ghost.

This was enough to get you moving. Before she could do something even stupider, like hug the ghost, you threw a salt bomb. It exploded between them and covered both in salt. While the ghost vanished, Hanna collapsed to the ground.

“Hanna! Please no!”, with a heart-wrenching scream rushed Stephen to his best friend. You were just standing there, unmoving. This couldn’t happen, not again!

“Y/N what should we do? We can’t let her die!”, he cradled her against his chest, while looking to you for help. But your mind was blank.

“Y/N, help!”, this pulled you finally out of your stupor. It wasn’t too late to save her, you just had to hurry.

“We have to get her to Frank”, maybe your supervisor already called an ambulance to tend to Archie and you. Hopefully he already called one, because this was the only way to save her.

While Stephen was carrying Hanna you both ran like the devil was hot on your heels. The way back to the foyer felt like one of these never-ending streets you normally encountered in nightmares. As you finally reached it, you could see through the windows the flashing lights of the ambulance.

“She was ghosted-touch”

“Help, we need help”, Stephen and you yelled at the same time and everyone in the foyer, which was crowded by Fittes Agents, looked up to you. For the second time in a short period, you had to run down a stair. But this time you didn’t fall. While a few agents came to help Stephen carry Hanna to the ambulance none other than Quill Kipps rushed to you. You met in the middle of the room, and he pulled you in a bone crushing hug. You couldn’t help but let out a painful yelp. Quill immediately let go of you.

“Never do something like this again, do you hear me?” Exhausted you could only nod.

“You are the only thing I have left of him! When I got the backup call and realized that it was your team, which was hurt, I got a heart attack. Never do this to me again!“

"I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for everything, you must believe me.” The tears had just dried, and now you were crying again, great.

“I was a total bitch. I was acting like just I lost them. But you also lost them and nevertheless you were there for me”, ashamed you looked down at your feet. You hadn’t been a good friend the last year and that you were grieving wasn’t a good enough excused.

“I lost Sasha, you lost them all, I could never be mad at you for the way you're grieving. And now let’s get you to the paramedics.”

Carefully, as if you were made of glass, Quill laid an arm around your shoulder and pulled to the ambulance. The flashing lights illuminated the night and there was no sign of dawn coming anytime soon. As you stepped outside, one of the two waiting ambulances drove off, probably to take Hanna to the hospital. Also, you didn’t see Stephen anywhere, hopefully he had been able to accompany Hanna.

By the other ambulance Frank and Archie were already waiting for you. “There she is”, Frank told the paramedic, before setting his eyes on Quill.

“Mr. Kipps, shouldn’t you lead your team by the search for the source?” Caught Quill nodded.

“You make sure you're feeling well again, I'll take care of the spirit, and we'll talk tomorrow”, he said to you, before he vanished inside the haunted building. Looking after him, you surrendered to your fate and climbed into the ambulance, to get checked up.

If somebody had asked you in the past, whether you see yourself as a lucky person, you would have laughed. But after this night in the hotel, you couldn’t deny it. Your whole team had got lucky. Hanna had survived the ghost-touch, Archie had escaped with a minor concussion, and you had only sprained one rib. This case could have ended much worse, and you were so glad, that it didn’t.

Since three quarters of your team was unavailable for action, you were given paid leave over Christmas. You weren’t sure what to think. Quill had to work, so you didn’t have anybody to celebrate with. And to spend Christmas alone wasn’t an option. Your last cases had shown you, that you were your own worst enemy.   

As agreed, you and Quill met up at the next day. There were only three days left until Christmas and both of you knew what that meant.

“We should go together to the Fittes Christmas Party”, Quill stated, and you choked on your tea.

“The party is tonight!”, last year you didn’t attend, and you were sure, that you wouldn’t fit inside your dress from two years ago.

“And? If I’m not mistaken you love these kinds of parties.”

You had loved these parties, when your old team had been still alive, and you had gone together. Most of the time Quill had joined you, and you had to lie, if you would say, that it hadn’t been fun. But without them? It wouldn’t be the same.

“I have no dress.”

“Kate also needs one, she’s going to go dress shopping in an hour, you could join her.”

Suspiciously you narrowed your eyes. Was he trying to set you up like a toddler for a play date?

“Are you hoping Kate and I become friends through dress-shopping?”

“Would that be too bold?”

“Possibly not.” You could need some friends. Some friends which you saw on regular basic, not like Lockwood. Besides going to the party could be nice. And you loved dress-shopping. It would be good for you to get a bit of normality in your life again.

“OK, I’m in.”

Dress-shopping with Kate was more fun than you expected. In the past you had underestimated her. You had always seen her of one of Quills shadows. But she was nice. So nice, that you decided to get ready together for the party.

Twirling in front of Kate’s mirror, in the first time since ages, you looked nice. There was colour in your cheeks you had long missed. Finally, you resembled more your old self than a half-dead corpse.

“Are you hoping to meet someone special tonight?”, Kate asked out of the blue and your first instinct was to deny the question. But as she was asking you saw his face in front of your inner eye. So, denying the question would be a lie.

“Maybe?”, you weren’t exactly sure, why you were thinking about Lockwood right now. Since the Fetch took his appearance, he wouldn’t leave your mind.

“OK who is it?”, leaning forward curiously Kate stopped applying her mascara. While you had had a good time with Kate you were torn if you could tell her your “dirty” secret. If Quill ever heard about it, he would kill you.

“You must swear that you will never tell anybody, what I will tell you now. Especially not Quill!” you demanded while playing nervously with your fingers.

“I swear”, solemnly Kate put her hand over her heart. But it didn’t help calm your nerves. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kate would make fun of you. However, you had to tell it somebody.

“It’s Lockwood”, you confessed and could watch how processed the news. First, she looked shocked then something like understanding flashed in her eyes.

“Quill will kill him if he ever hears that you fancy him.”

“I would exactly say that I fancy him.” He just haunted your thoughts like a ghost, but in a good way.

“Do you like somebody?”, you tried to shift the attention away from you.

“I can’t, you will laugh!”, awkward Kate shuffled in her heels.

“I told you I maybe like Lockwood; your crush can’t be worse.”

“Almost every girl at Fittes likes Lockwood, at least until he opens his mouth. So, you can’t compare this.”

Of course, you had seen how some of the other girls at Fittes eyed Lockwood. Who could blame them? Lockwood was good-looking, that was a fact. And technical speaking you were a wrack and had no chance. But maybe you could talk a little bit tonight, like friends did.

“I will not make fun of you, so spill.” You told her who you liked, so it was only fair, if she told you too. Wasn’t that like a rule in the girl code? You were a bit rusty when it came to this. Your only friends had been your old team and back then you hadn’t had any secrets from each other.

“Fine, it’s Stephen, happy now?”

“Yes and no worry, I will not tell anyone. But Stephen is very nice and there is no shame in liking him.” Maybe he would also like her back. They deserved happiness. In your field of work many passed away far to young. You should make most of your life while you still could.

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas”, filled the air. Around you people were cheerfully chatting and laughing away. Standing beside Quill and Kate you sipped on your champagne. Both were looking magnificent. You tried to appear happy, but your memories were overwhelming you. You couldn’t help but to think about the last time you attended the Christmas Party, about all the fun you had. How you had kissed Joey, one of your team members under the mistletoe, how your teeth had crushed, and you hadn’t stopped laughing for ten minutes.

“Everything alright, Y/N?”, Quills voice brought you back from the past. With a sad smile on your lips, you turned around to face him.

“Yes, just thinking about all the fun we had at this party.”

“Being here, I also miss them like crazy. But they would want us to have fun.” In the past you hated this phrase. Nobody knew what the dead really wanted. But when Quill said this, you could only agree with him. They would want Quill and you to have fun.

“Let’s dance!”, emptying your glass you took Quills hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

“Oh no”, he tried to protest, “Sasha warned me to never dance with you if I value my feet.”

“Too late”, you just laughed, and after a short second Quill joined in your laughter. This was the moment you spotted Lockwood. Your eyes met from across the room. Still laughing you gave him a big smile. But this little exchange came to an end when Quill took your hands and started to spin you around the dance floor. Closing your eyes, you tried to just live in this moment.

Quill and you danced to four songs, before you agreed that you needed a quick break. While Quill made a dash for the refreshment table you started to wander around aimlessly. That’s how it happened that you ended in front of one of the famous relic columns. The otherworldly light illuminated your face, while you watched the ghost floating around. You never really like the columns; they were far too flashy.

“Hi”, a raspy voice sounded next to you, and you would have recognized that voice anywhere.

“Hi”, you breathed out, while turning around to him.

“Ahm-“, he cleared his throat and a small blush began spreading on his face, “-you look amazing, love.”

“You too, pretty boy.”

The word “Amazing” came not even close to how you would describe Lockwood’s appearance. You only knew him in his suit and coat but toady it looked, like he had put in a lot of effort and was wearing his best suit with a Christmas tie.

“You look happy and-“, nervous he looked away before he stopped in the middle of the sentence. Following his eyes, you understood why. There was a mistletoe and you and Lockwood were standing right under it. With wide eyes you glanced back to him, only to see him already looking at you, or looking at your lips. Unconsciously you licked them. If it was possible Lockwood’s pupils dilated at this sight.

“I-I”, you started, not really sure what you actually wanted to say. But Lockwood beat you to it. Not waiting he cupped your face inside his hands. Your heart was beating so loud, that he must hear it. And then finally he bridged the distance and kissed you. The kiss tasted of mulled wine and cinnamon. At this moment you could have died happily. But all to quickly Lockwood broke the kiss. With a red blush on his cheeks, he ran his hand through his hair, and you were sure, you weren’t looking anything better.

“I-I-I think G-G-George called me, I-I-I have to go”, he stuttered and without waiting for your response he dashed away.

Confused you got left behind. What was this? He couldn’t just kiss you and run away. Friends didn’t do something like this to each other.

Angry and embarrassed at the same time, you started to search for Quill. You wanted to go back to your room, but you weren't going to let Anthony bloody Lockwood ruin your fucking evening. 

When you stormed to Quill, he was already looking at you. Without a word he handed you his champagne glass. Thankful nodding you downed the whole thing.

“Do you want to talk about it”, Quill asked carefully, as if you were about to rip his head off.

“I don’t exactly know what this was”, ashamed you gesticulated back to the column.

“Do you like him?” Still flustered you nod.

“Look, Tony is the biggest idiot I know, but he isn’t an asshole. Just talk to him.” Talk to him? After he left you standing there like an idiot? Hell no!

“Ether, you talk to him, or you both will be so ashamed, that you will avoid each other. Do you want that it ends, without getting an actual shot at it?” Did you want this? Of course not. However, it was easier to say than to do. He kissed you, that should count for something. Nervously you played with the rim of your dress.

“Maybe I should.”

It didn’t take you long to find him. He had his back to you and was talking frantically to Lucy and George. You couldn’t hear what he was saying and as you got closer, Lucy spotted you. She said something to Lockwood which got him to stop talking. Then he turned around to face you and for a moment you forget how to breath.

“We will be over there, watching -ahm- the paintings”, without waiting for your responses, Lucy grabbed George and pulled him away.

You had rarely been more nervous in your life than at this moment. You didn’t know what you wanted to say. Accuse him to left you standing back there like an idiot?

“I’m so sorry, love”, Lockwood whispered just loud enough from you to hear, forestalling you.

“I’m so sorry. I purely panicked. You were standing there looking absolute beautiful and me idiot just kissed you without asking. I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship. I know you don’t want to be something more than friends and, in the future, I will respect your wish, if you forgive me. So please love, forgive me”, rambled Lockwood nervously on.

You could just stare at him. He liked you? A giddy feeling started to spread inside your entire body. He liked you! Gathering all your courage you took a step towards him.

“I’m going to do that thing in the film where I shut you up by kissing you. Sound good?”

Perplexed Lockwood just nodded.

“Great”, without further ado, you grab him by his tie and pulled him down to kiss him. Your lips moved in sync, and you could feel Lockwood smiling into the kiss. This time nobody backed away. Only when your lungs screamed for air did you break the kiss. Never before in your life did you felt this amazing. Just kissing him made you feel warm and flustered.

You had just enough time to take a deep breath before he kissed you again. This kiss was more heated. If it were up to you, you could kiss Lockwood all day long.

But the sound of someone clearing his throat made you part. “The kids nowadays”, an old guy muttered, while passing you.

However, instead of sinking into the ground in embarrassment, you could only beam at Lockwood. You were far too happy to let a random old man destroy it. Still with your arms around his neck, you gazed up to Lockwood. You were all too aware of his hands on your hips, pressing you tightly against him.

“You don’t know how long I waited for this, love”, Lockwood muttered while laying his forehead against you. You silently had to agree with him, you also waited far too long for this.

“It looks like we have a lot of kisses to catch up on”, you laughed, and Lockwood didn’t need to be told twice. Smiling like a madman he pampered your face with light kisses, while you couldn’t help but giggle.

Christmas Carols were playing in the background, and you felt happy like never before. As a kid you loved Christmas, and maybe you could start to love it again.

A/N: I wish you all a wonderful Christmastime! The story is only vaguely based on a Christmas Carol, I hope you still enjoyed it.