#i wear pants from the childrens section and sometimes they drag :
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Pride Month is right around the Corner! Yay! 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️
Marinette, Kim, and Nino- The Trio of Transcendenceness... Ness 🏳️⚧️
Marinette, Kim, and Nino have been best friends since birth, and do pretty much everything together
If some rando were to look at them, they’d think it’s odd that Marinette likes to wear pink and gaze starry-eyed at dresses in store windows while Kim and Nino like to play with action figures and shop for clothes in the boys’ section
And people swore they saw them get teary-eyed whenever someone said their birth names
Tom and Sabine sort of just knew that Marinette was somewhere on the trans spectrum, and let their so- daughter buy whatever outfits she wanted and grow her hair out
Marinette: I wanna be a princess when I grow up!
Rando: Don’t you mean a prince?
Marinette: No! I’m the Princess of princes!
She officially came out when she was seven
Her parents were supportive. Confused, but supportive. They even made her a three layered cake with Trans flags toppers
She named herself after a princess she read about in a book
Kim and Nino did everything they could to help their sister
Nino gave her the makeup kit he never uses and a bunch of his hair accessories
Kim gave her some clothes he doesn’t like wearing
Whenever someone asks what happened to their friend, [CENSORED]. Kim and Nino say their friend went on a long trip and is never coming back
Kim was second to come out when he was nine
He loved how carefree Marinette looked after she had what he and Nino call her “Gender Awakening”
He was confused about some things though, and asked her to explain how she came to the conclusion that she wasn’t a guy
Marinette: Well, I never liked how people kept calling me by my old name, and whenever I had to wear boy’s clothes, my skin crawled a bit.
Kim: ... I’m trans, I wear pants, deal with it!
His parents were very supportive and his mom even threw a one-woman pride parade in the backyard
Kim: Is mom okay?
Kim’s dad: She’s just happy for you. Now let’s go get you a haircut, young man before you look like a hippie.
In Vietnamese, Kim means gold/metal (A little reference to the gold medals he’s one in sports)
Marinette made him a custom binder that’s red with a gold star on the front
Nino cut his hair and is even learning how to contour so he can do Kim’s makeup to make him look more masculine
Finally, Nino came out when he was ten. He just figured it out on his own like Marinette
Nino: Your daughter’s dead, dudes. I’m taking over her room.
Chris: *Stares in awe* That is... awesome!
His parents supported him wholeheartedly
He chose his name because it’s Spanish for boy
Marinette made him a binder and she and Kim took Nino clothes shopping
Since they’re all best friends, they wanna do everything together
When they were ten, the three of them started taking their hormones
On dysphoria days, they’ll get under a big blanket and snuggle up while watching Disney movies until they fall asleep. Nino and Marinette would sandwich Kim in the middle while he wrapped his arms around them
Sometimes they wear matching hoodies that are a few sizes too big and just hide everything
On their first day of collége, all three of them were dead named in one of their classes since the school didn’t update their names
Word spread. Long story short, Kim and Nino beat up a boy who deadnamed Marinette and asked for “proof”
Their classmates were very supportive and always corrected teachers who accidentally say their dead names during role call
Many guys who had crushes on Marinette offered to beat up or threaten anyone harassing her
Nathaniel (Before meeting Marc) almost framed one of her bullies for murder
The swim team wore gender neutral swimwear so Kim wouldn’t feel like the odd one out until he got his surgery
Guys will always put emphasis on ‘Dude’ whenever talking to Nino
Students offered to stand guard whenever they used the bathroom in case anyone tried anything else
When Alya and Adrien came along, they were all so nervous. Sure, most of the school was pretty tolerant, but what if someone outs them and the new students turn out to be bullies in their own class?!
Once again, they were outed by some asshole Damocles won’t expel for some shit reason
Alya beat the asshole to a pulp (Which caused Nino’s crush on her to start) while Adrien treated his three new friends to ice cream
When they started dating and Nino was feeling dysphoric, Alya will say things like: “My boyfriend is the manliest man ever.”
... Ah, fuck it! Bring out the Miraculous!🐞🐈⬛🐢
Marinette is Ladybug/Nino is Carapace/Kim is Mèo đen (They all know each other’s identities because they opened the boxes together in Marinette’s room)
Thanks to a little magic, they have the bodies they’ve always dreamed of having
One Akuma they faced was some transphobic dick who they did not go easy on. Carapace and Mèo đen had to reluctantly keep Ladybug from murdering him in front of a bunch of people
Now, Lila? (I can’t go one second without Lila salt) She’s a new member of the assholes club but doesn’t know others know Marinette, Kim, and Nino are trans
She runs into class sobbing like a dumb [BLEEP] and whines about how Marinette assaulted her in the bathroom
The class was not amused and Lila never did become popular
Then the big day came. They were eighteen and they got their surgery together in the same hospital
Doctors and nurses gushed over how sweet it was three best friends were taking this huge step together
Kim and Nino’s first act was to burn their bras. Marinette even joined in even though she needed hers’
🏳️⚧️ Okay, onto the Pride headcanons! 🏳️⚧️
Some consider them Trans icons
It’s not every day a group of best friends come out as Transgender and get their surgery on the same day
They go to Pride every year, and thanks to Marinette, they’re always the best dressed
Their outfits mainly consist of sleeveless hoodies, crop tops, sandals, and bedazzled shorts and capes
Every time Marinette inhales, a terf gets punched
Every time Marinette exhales, a trans kid gets a cupcake
Mari makes pride capes, bedazzles them, and passes them out at parades
Kim is very popular with the drag Queens.
He is a lip sync god
Children love him and always ask for piggyback rides
He’s notorious for making flower crowns for the kids
Nino takes on the role of the mom friend when they got to pride
He once put Mari and Kim on those baby leashes so they wouldn’t wander off
He also supplies juice boxes and snacks
After their surgery, Nino and Kim pass out their old binders.
Kim’s would definitely look like sports jerseys
Nino’s binders are neon and one even glows in the dark
He wears hoodies no matter how hot it is
Marinette: Nino, take that off!
Nino: *Sweating more than the average person* No!
Marinette once beat up a terf who was harassing Kim and Nino for being “traitors to their sex”
The terf left with bruises and a small crush
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug headcanon#Trans Nino Lahiffe#Trans Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Trans Lê Chiến Kim#trans male#trans girl#Marinette/Nino/Kim BroTP#brotp#Chat Noir Kim#Carapace#Ladybug#kwami swap#supportive friends#supportive family#cute#lgbt pride#lgbt headcanons#happy pride 🌈#transgender
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Humans are Space Orcs, “Comic-con.”
You guys wanted something fluffier and lighthearted, so I took a suggestion from a group of the Discord server, and did this with it I hope you guys like, and thank you for the suggestions.
“Where are you taking me? And why am I wearing this?”
Adam frowned at her, “Don’t be such a party pooper, I took you to watch MMA last week, and now its my turn to pick the fun activity.”
Sunny held up the glowing weapon --of facsimile of a weapon--, “What is this called again.”
“It’s an energy sword, from a really REALLY old video game.”
“And what are you supposed to be.”
Adam turned to look at her, shaking his head in disappointment, “Sometimes, I am sad for your lack of pop culture education.”
“And whose fault is it for my lack of pop culture education?”
He tapped his chin, “I suppose that is true.”
“To be fair the pop culture you subscribe to is like two thousand years old.” She looked him up and down. He was wearing a spacesuit and a jetpack. This might have been normal for him were it not for the painstaking hours that he had spent painting the thing and applying decals.
Where the standard issue UNSC space - suit ranged anywhere from white to silver to dark blue, this one was in a gaudy combination of white with green and purple highlights with a blue decal on the front embossed with the outline of stylized white wings. Under that, he had taken the time to dye one of the old undersuits purple, and was now wearing the hood to complete ‘the affect’
“Seriously though. What are You?”
He turned to look at her grinning and patted her on the shoulder, “Just wait.”
She sighed and did as told following him out of the underground parking lot and up into the sun. She threw her hand over her face as they came up into the sun, and when she withdrew her hand, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of humans all walking towards the same destination, and all of them were dressed, strangely… she couldn’t tell which ones for sure, because humans always seemed to dress strangely, but something bout this gave her the feeling that these ones were doing it on purpose..
At her side, Adam was grinning.
Following the line of people her eyes traced up to the large, and spacious building just up ahead. The walls were made out of metal and glass paneling, and across their surface scrolling scenes from movies and comic strips flashed.
Off to her side, a man in a blue and red suit, with a big yellow S on the front went floating past, his hover boots giving him the effect as if he were flying, red cape billowing out behind him.
Someone else to their side was walking a rather large brown dog towards the building. It had a teel collar and a couple of painted on black spots, while he was wearing a green shirt and brown pants. He looked like he really needed a haircut.
Sunny tilted her head to better read the letters on the building before her.
J. HAIL CONVENTION HALL
They were just outside the doors when someone ran up to them. THey looked younger, maybe in their teens, dressed with an elaborately colored wig, and strange colorful clothes, “Holy Shit! Your costumes are awesome, Can I get a picture?”
“Hell yeah.” Adam motioned the kid closer, pulling Sunny down beside them so the kid could grab a picture and then turn to look at Sunny, “How did you make it look so real. You look just like the Drev from that movie.”
She stared at him before looking down at herself.
Adam laughed, “It looks real because it IS real.”
The kid stared at them in disbelief, “No way.”
“Yeah she's a real life actual alien.”
Eyes went even wider, I...w...wow.”
Sunny shrugged and waved one of her arms to the kid as Adam dragged her further up the line.
“Here, hold out your hand.” She did as told and he wrapped a small plastic bracelet around her wrist. The letters on the band read VIP
Walking over to the doors they were stopped by a group of people holding up their hands. One of them walked around them, and pointed at Adam’s jetpack, “YOu have a licence for that?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
He reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled it out to show them. THey looked it over and then nodded, and he grinned. Tey read off some rules before they were suddenly interrupted.
Voices behind them, and Sunny turned.
A group of people walked up, one of them was dressed like a cowboy with a yellow shirt and blue pants, with a brown hat.
Another human in a blow up dinosaur costume pointed at Adam’s uniform,
“And what does that button do.”
Adam grinned, and Sunny watched him with a fond shake of her head as he approached them, putting on some sort of character voice.
“Ill show you.” Looking around to make sure that everyone was clear, he deployed the wings of the jetpack, striped in red and white.
The group oohed and ahhed.
THe cowboy moved forward, “Oh what, these are plastic, he can’t fly.”
“They are a trillium carbonic alloy and I CAN fly.”
“No you can’t”
“Yes I can.”
“Can’t.”
“CAN.”
“Can’t Can’t Can’t.”
“I could fly around this convention center with my eyes closed.”
Sunny just stood there watching them nervously shifting back and forth. She had a feeling that they were arguing, but it also felt very scripted, though how it could be scripted, she didn’t know. They had never seen these people as far as she was concerned.
The other man moved very close, “Ok then my light beer, prove it.”
“Alright then, I will.”
He held out his hands voice growing a bit more serious as he did, “Everyone step back.”
They did as told, and the cowboy was smiling now instead of frowning.
“Adam, is this legal.” Sunny wondered.
He turned to look at her, “Yes, the convention center has its own airspace just for this. I had to sign a waver.” He turned back to the others and ignited the engin on the jetpack kicking off the ground.
His flight was far more controlled than his original flight, and he flew in a fast circle around the area, dropping in with a flip to land before them to the cheering of an amassed crowd.
He pointed at the cowboy, “CAN.”
“That wasn’t flying, that was falling with style.” The man protested though he was grinning even as he walked over to take a picture with Adam.
“Pretty sure that made my day, your costume is awesome. Is this a real spacesuit.”
“You bet it is.”
“Where did you get your hands on one.”
“Oh I have my sources. Did you make your costume?”
“Sewed it myself. The hat and boots I bought though.”
They parted ways with Adam’s new friend and stepped inside the convention center scanning their bracelets as they went in.
“Welcome, Sunny to the biggest nerd convention ever conceived of by man...ComicCon.”
She turned in a wide circle eyes wide at thousands of booths, thousands of people all talking and laughing. He grabbed her hand and dragged hr further inside, “IF your good, I’ll buy you a sword.”
“Nerds want swords?”
He raised an eyebrow at her, “Of course nerds want swords. Here, lets start over there and movie this way, through the art section first.”
Sunny did as told, following after him.
She never knew Adam being one to spend a lot of money, he had no reason too, but after the first ten minutes she figured out that he was a little bit of a spender when it came to nerdy things. Posters and drawings and other related items.
However, she was surprised to find that they did have leather workers and blacksmiths as they were called, and she did…. In fact… get herself a sword which she recognized from the lord of the rings movie he had made her watch. It was a pretty good sword all things considered as if whoever made it actually knew how to make swords.
They were coming around a corner when they almost ran into another group of people. Adam dropped one of his bags and the other reached down to pick it up. When he stood, Sunny's eyes widened. Blond hair green eyes and an eyepatch, “Sweet Costume!”
She shook herself thinking she had bumped her head or something and was seeing double, but no, when she looked closer she realised that this person couldnt have been more than fifteen or sixteen…. And dressed like Adam.
She looked over at Adam who was standing mouth open eyes wide.
“Can I get a picture!”
Sunny just nodded her head as the kid jumped over next to her and had his friend take it before running off yelling back at her about her amazing costume.
Adam turned to look at Sunny, “Did I just>”
“I think you did.”
He shook himself, “Wow.”
She nodded
After that it started happening more and more.
Adam was everywhere, in all stages of life. They had recreated his uniforms, his flight suits, his space suits. They brought their dogs. There were even gender bent versions of him, blond women wearing eyepatches, brown jackets and jeans making it very clear who they were .
It got even more weird when Sunny started seeing herself.
Small children in costumes made of foam.
People wearing onesies that sort of looked like her, and even one costume that had a woman on stilts for her legs, and a complex system of homemade mechanics to allow her to move around.
Adam stood there mouth open just staring at them.
Sunny laughed at the irony.
He was here as a guest, and no one knew.
If only they had any idea that the real deal was here and dressed like a space ranger from a two thousand year old cartoon.
Sunny tilted her head listening to the announcements which said there would be a “Adam Vir look alike contest going on on the other side of the convention.
She turned to look at Adam and they both began to laugh hysterically. She grabbed his arm. We have to see this.
They wandered over just as the others were filtering in. And there were TONS of them, all dressed like Adam. One stopped next to him, spiky blond hair, clearly dyed for the occasion, wearing a flight suit and aviators.
Adam Tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as they sat down to watch, however no one recognized him, not even close.
They sat, watching the judging.
An adorable little boy with blond hair and a NASA T-shirt won for the younger age bracket.
The jumpsuit wearing kid to their right won for his teenage years.
At the end it was up between two men, one in casual wearing and one in a uniform. The one wearing the uniform had a similar lopsided grin as Adam and she would have chosen him as a dead ringer, and was almost put off when they chose the other man, who was, on the other hand, roguishly handsome.
She snorted, “He looks nothing like you.”
“But he does look like Keith Jenning who played me, so I guess people sort of conflate us as being the same person.”
“This is so unreal.”
They laughed again as they walked away sunny pointing out he probably would have lost the contest if he had tried to enter, and he laughed along with her.
THey were perusing through a booth with a bunch of old vintage movies when another announcement came over the intercom, saying that the cast of Adam’s movie was going to be speaking.”
Adam’s eyes widened, and together they made their way wanting to see what all the fuss was about. There were hundreds of people packed into the large room, and they were only able to get space just along one wall.
Up at the table, he recognized Keith Jenning, Rita. Ortiz, and Adler Handen, the voice actor for Krill and the woman who played Sunny.
Adam leaned back against the wall to watch.
Keith didn’t look anything like Adam at this moment, his hair back to brown like it usually was.
Hands raised in the crowd as questions were shot out, “What was the hardest part of playing Adam Vir?”
Keith laughed and then paused, “I think it might have been the eyepatch. I stubbed my toe like…. What was it Rita, we kept track on set.”
“About 456 times during the course of filming.” She added, and the group of them laughed.
“How accurate is the story to what actually happened?” Someone called out
Adler Handen leaned forward, “You know it was actually pretty accurate because Adam Vir was actually consulting through the whole process, though I think it is glammed up to make him look maybe a little more….”
“Poised.” Rita added, “Ellis gave him a bit of an action hero spin.”
“What is he actually like?”
Keith smiled as did Rita, “He’s hilarious, and kind, and a bit of a clutz I would say.”
Rita laughed, “That is one part of the movie that is inaccurate. I think they should have put it in, but he was like the last man to step onto Proxima B, and when he did he says he actually fell out of the shuttle and landed on his face.”
There was laughter from the crowd.
“Honestly a really modest guy all told.
“He has the personality of a golden retriever…. In a good way obviously.” Rita said
Keith had stood up from his palace at the table and was looking around the crowd for more questions, when his eyes fell on Adam and Sunny not a few rows away leaning against the wall.
The recognition was instantaneous, despite them not having seen for a long time. He pointed his eyes wide, “Adam…. Adam is that you. Sunny?”
The entire crowd turned and thousands of eyes fell on them.
Adam was stuck like a deer in the headlights hands held up.
“No way It IS YOU. Someone grab a chair and get him up here.”
Rita stood in her seat and waved.
Now people were standing to get a good look at them as two security people motioned them up.
Adam was bright red in the face as he was pushed to come on stage. The people looked confused, but when Adam pulled off his hood, and pulled on his eyepatch the entire convention center began cheering.
“Yeah give the man a round of applause.” Keith said pulling out a chair for him to sit on while Rita did the same for Sunny.
Adam shifted awkwardly in his seat.
“Nice costume, is that from Toy story?”
Adam shrugged, ‘Yeah, or the Tv show I guess.”
Someone hurried over with another microphone as the crowd below continued to babble and point.
Keith leaned forward, “Did I mention he was a raging nerd. Did you wear the costume to hide or….”
Adam shook his head, “No, I've been coming to the convention since I was a kid.”
There was cheering in the crowd.
Hands were raised high into the air for questions, and Adam blinked a bit red in the face still.
“Is it true what they said about Proxima B?”
Adam smiled, “uh yeah I fell flat on my face, right out the door. You see the movie had a ramp, but a ot of our ships don’t have ramps, they have doors because it would kind of be…. Impractical to have a whole ramp opening up into an airlock. So instead it had a door and stairs. And I got so excited that I missed the second stair and just fell.
“How accurate is the rest of the movie?”
He shrugged, still blushing, “They did make me look a little more… heroic, than I actually am. I mean there is a little known fact among members of the UNSC that doing a warp without a warp dampener like we did on the Enterprise was…. How shall we say… extremely hard on the body. About fifty percent of the men on the bridge peed themselves and passed out.”
There was laugher from the crowd.
“Were you part of the fifty percent?”
He snorted, “ I was nineteen of COURSE I was part of the fifty percent. Captain Kelly had a bladder of Iron though.”
More laughter.
“And when it came to meeting with aliens for the first time, I was so excited that I ran after them right….. Well as it turns out, to the aliens it looked really, really bad. Like they thought I was going to eat them.” More laughter, “We are still trying to repair human/Bran relations five years later because of me.”
More questions.
“What is your funniest story, something that didn’t appear in the movie?”
Adam had to think about it for a minute, “Did I ever tell you about the first time we met Iotins or the Celzex.”
Cheering in the crowd,.
“Ok ok, so The one thing you need to know about Iotins is that they smell good, and I don’t mean your girl’s perfume good, I mean like continental breakfast with bacon and eggs and potatoes and I don’t know what else.” Sunny smiled as she listened to the sound of the crowd’s amusement, “This is the kind of smell that turns you into one of pavlov’s Dogs. Drooling all over yourself stomach grumbling the whole nine. So when we met them for the first time, it was during a GA convention and my men hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was so bad, I drooled all over my uniform and we scared the Iotin council half to death.”
He smiled as the crowd encouraged him into more stories.
“Then of course there is the Celzex, a very war-like race, very honor bound and very easy to offend. And yet they are about a foot tall rainbow colored, fluffy and with adorable pig ears. These guys were designed to be cuddled, and yet, not one human has ever done it for fear of pissing them off since they have weapons that could glass our entire planet.”
He was Animated as he told his stories, and the crowd was animated with him
“Sunny, i have a question.” She lifted her head in surprise, “Is it true you grew up in a stone hut/”
She hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, where else would I have grown up.”
“So you didn’t have electricity?”
She shook her head, “No, why would we need it?”
She answered a few more questions.
And then one young man stood.
“So, I was wondering, you supported the LFIL during their protests.”
Adam shifted nervously in his seat, “I did.”
“And it’s because of you that they are in a probationary state of legality.”
“Yes.”
.”“So I was wondering, considering all that and considering your relationship with Sunny. Have you tow ever thought about dating.” Adam blanched white and you could have heard a pin drop.
Sunny glanced quickly over at adam. A part of her really wanted him to admit it to people, but another part of her-- the bigger part-- knew that doing it here in front of thousands of people would be a disaster. He opened his mouth to stammer out a question but Sunny leaned forward towards her mic.
“You misunderstand Drev courting customs. He would have to be able to beat me in a fight first.
Factions of the room muttered, and Sunny quickly moved the conversation on to more Funny stories.
Adam turned his head towards her with a look of relief.
With her head turned form the cameras she gave him a brief wink before turning back.
They didn’t exactly get to see the rest of the convention as they were waylaid by people wanting autographs and to talk to him. He of course was good natured and answered all their questions with a smile and gave pictures with enthusiasm.
She smiled
He was kind like that.
Thought some worries gnawed at the back of her mind.
People were beginning to suspect, and that could be a big problem for Adam.
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Crush
A/N: This takes places in the semi-near future. For today’s prompt: Kensi or Deeks as a teacher. This fic represents what happens when my mind runs wild with an idea.
***
“Hey, can I call you back in about an hour and a half?” Deeks asked as he jogged down a flight of stairs to the third floor. “I have office hours starting in a few minutes.”
“Sure. Good luck with the gremlins,” Kensi answered. He rolled his eyes, nodding to a passing professor.
“Kens, they’re in they’re 20’s. You have to stop calling my students things like gremlins and children.”
He walked into the small office where he spent his time when he wasn’t teaching Contract Law to thirty or so L1 students. He dropped his bag by the desk, and slipped his jacket off, rolling his sleeves up a few times so he wouldn’t end up getting ink or chalk on the fabric. His dry cleaning bills had definitely increased since he started wearing dress shirts and ties again.
A little less than a year before, when he’d be aimlessly looking for a job, one of his former classmates had suggested teaching until he found something more permanent. Deeks had balked at the idea initially, but eventually given when it became clear that he needed to work and his other options were unavailable.
He’d never anticipated how much he would enjoy it. Now he taught three classes throughout the week at Loyola Law school as an adjunct professor. It was strangely satisfying to have a hand in teaching the next batch of lawyers.
“All I’m saying is that they look a lot younger that I did at that age.” Deeks snorted at Kensi’s completely inaccurate observation as he wrote a few notes on the blackboard that took up most of the back wall.
“You were just a baby when I met you,” he teased.
“Yet you still married me,” Kensi pointed out.
“Ooh, touché.” He heard a noise behind him and glanced over his shoulder. “Oops, gotta go. See you at dinner.” Deeks hung up, turning around completely to face one of his students, Mallory Baten.
She was lingering in the doorway and if Deeks didn’t know better, he would have thought she was hesitating. But that didn’t align with the young woman he knew. Mallory was one of the most outspoken and confident students in the class. She also had a biting sense of humor that Deeks found hilarious.
“Hey Mallory, what can I do for you?” he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat. Again she hesitated a little before pulling up one of the metal chairs situated opposite his desk.
“I had a few questions about Monday’s lecture, Mr. Deeks,” she said, pulling out a thick, color coded binder. The sight of it always reminded him of his own college experience and made him slightly nauseous. He did not miss the stress of studying and exams.
Deeks dragged his chair over with his foot and sat down with his forearms braced against the back, waiting for her to continue.
Brushing her light blond hair back from her neck, Mallory flipped to a page from the last class notes. Deeks instantly recognized her small, neat handwriting covering the majority of the paper.
“So, I was rereading the section on unjust enrichment and I wondered if you could clarify the concept. The text book had some examples, but I thought it was a little lacking,” she said, pointing to her notes.
Deeks tilted his head, quickly scanned her notes and nodded. It was a fairly simple concept, but Mallory tended to be exceedingly thorough. She was one of five or six students who regularly attended his office hours.
“Ok, so unjust enrichment essentially says that if I provide you with a service or product, I deserve compensation. Even if you end a contract early or have an issue with how I provided the service, you still need to provide compensation for those services or produces you received,” he explained.
“Even if the services or products weren’t satisfactory?” she asked, writing something in the corner of the page.
“Well, that would fall under a different part of contract law and would be considered a breach of contract. Assuming there was a legitimate contract to begin with. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes, it does, Mr. Deeks.”
“Awesome, I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Deeks said, grabbing a stack of homework assignments that needed grading from the end of his desk while Mallory packed up her binder.
“Actually, I have one more question,” Mallory said. He glanced up, mildly surprised to find her standing over her desk. “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”
Deeks froze, sure he’d heard her wrong.
“Do I-what are you asking me?”
“I’m asking you to go out to dinner. On a date.” Her cheeks were a little flushed, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“You know, I’m married, right?” he asked a little desperately. He saw Mallory’s eyes flick to his ring and then back to his face, and she nodded.
“I know.”
“And I’m your teacher.”
“You’re also really hot,” she said bluntly and he felt his cheeks fill with heat. “Plus you’re funny, caring, and my god, your muscles are incredible. Sometimes I come to office hours just to watch the you move.”
Mallory seemed past the point of embarrassment, but he wished a hole would open up in the floor. Or he could throw himself out a window. Unfortunately, his office didn’t have one so he’d have to actually face this. It didn’t help that Mallory was now openly checking him out.
Suppressing a groan, he turned in a half circle, pinching the bridge of his nose as tried to figure out what to say. The continuing ed classes he’d taken hadn’t prepared him for this possibility at all.
“Mart-Mr. Deeks, are you ok?” He almost laughed at the question.
He turned back around to face Mallory again, balancing a on hand on his hip. She looked a little more uncertain again and was watching him avidly.
“Well, this is, uh, wow.” He cleared his throat noisily and tried again. “While this is incredibly, um, flattering, I think we both know that nothing is going to happen between us. For a multitude of reasons,” he said as gently as he could.
“We could still just go out for dinner,” she suggested hopefully. “As friends.”
“No, we can’t,” Deeks said firmly. “Now we should go talk to the dean about getting you transferred to another class section for the remainder of the semester.”
***
“Hey baby,” Kensi greeted him at home later that day, punctuating it with a kiss. “How was work?”
“An unmitigated disaster,” he sighed. He dropped his bag by the door, and flopped onto the couch. Kensi sat next to him and grabbed his hand with a look of concern.
“What happened? Everything seemed fine when I talked to you earlier today.” Deeks groaned, silently reliving the last few hours.
“One of my students hit on me today.” If he’d expected Kensi to react with outrage, he was about to be disappointed. She visibly relaxed beside him, smacking his arm with the back of her hand.
“Why didn’t you lead with that? You had me really worried,” she said, shaking her head at his apparent lack of consideration.
“The fact that a 23 year old asked me out to dinner doesn’t bother you at all?” Deeks asked. Kensi shrugged.
“I figured it was only a matter of time.” Deeks gave her a look and she rolled her eyes at him. “For someone who claims to be a reformed lady’s man, you are ridiculously oblivious when someone is flirting with you. Half the women in your class have a crush on you.”
“No they don’t.” Kensi actually laughed at his protest, patting his arm with false sympathy.
“Uh, yeah they do, babe. Every time I’ve visited you at work, there are no less than three students staring at you at any time. Sometimes even a couple teachers,” she said, clearly enjoying this more than she had any right to.
“Ugh, now I’m going to be thinking about these kids checking me out during class,” he groaned. “This sucks.”
“You’re not even a little bit flattered?” she asked with mild surprised. He shrugged. Maybe he would have been at one time, but now it just seemed weird and a little creepy.
“I might be if I wasn’t old enough to be their father.” Kensi squinted at him and he clarified, “If I had them really young.”
“I’m sure they don’t think of you in a fatherly way.” Deeks made a face at that and gave a full-body shudder.
“Well, thanks for that horrible thought,” he said dryly. “And here I just thought they all loved my teaching.”
“Well, I’m sure they appreciate that too.” Kensi smirked at him as he pouted, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s all your own fault, you know.”
“How is this my fault? I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“You can’t walk around all day in tight shirts and pants with your sleeves rolled up and not expect to get noticed,” she said, leaning in and gliding her nose across his jaw. She inhaled deeply. “You look good enough to eat.” As she spoke, her hand drifted up his bare forearm to cup his bicep. It was a fairly innocent touch, but he still felt a shiver work its way up his spine.
“Is that an offer?” he asked, thoughts of Mallory quickly leaving his mind. Kensi walked her fingers up his arm and across his chest, pausing at his collar. She fiddled with the button on his collar and then slowly tugged his tie free.
“It’s a promise,” she said, the husky note in her voice incredibly sexy. Deeks settled his hands on her hips as she rose up on her knees and straddled his thighs. Smiling down at him, she brushed her hair back, the glossy strands dancing around her shoulder, and slipped the top button free on his shirt. Then she looked up, her expression playful, and added, “For later.”
“That’s cruel,” he complained. “Especially when I’ve had such a terrible day. It was mortifying.”
“So how much did you freak out when she asked you out?” she asked slyly.
“I handled it with all the finesse and professionalism that you would expect from a former criminal defendant, detective, and federal liaison,” Deeks said with mock solemnity and Kensi raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really?” Her voice was filled with disbelief.
“Yeah, no, I kept hoping a freak tornado or earthquake would come along and put me out of my misery.”
“So, I don’t have to worry about you running off with any promising young law students?” Deeks rolled his eyes at Kensi’s question. He thought she was mostly joking, but just in case, he cupped her jaw between his palms, cradling the back of her head and firmly kissed her. She made a noise of surprise in the back of her throat that quickly turned to satisfaction.
“Never. They’ll just have to find another incredibly attractive, middle aged teacher to chase after.” He kissed her again. When they pulled back, Kensi was smirking at him as she fiddled with his collar.
“You’re an idiot, but I love you anyway,” she said, pulling him back down to her.
***
A/N: I know nothing about law, other than what I googled.
#densimber 2020#ncis la#densi#densimber day 5#marty deeks#kensi blye#ncis la fanfiction#by ejzah#any excuse to talk about Deeks’ muscles
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Costume Conundrum
A/N: This is going to be a bit of a wild one. I was given a prompt by the lovely @badsext, and since I’m extra, I’ve decided to extend the prompt into three characters, and three scenarios. Depending on when I get this done, they’ll come out all across October. This is the Klaus x fem! reader one!!
Warnings: people being very cishet, general halloween spookiness
“Klaus, where in the name of God are you taking me?” I ask, as he blindfolded me while walking down the sidewalk.
“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. You’re in good hands, I promise!” he says, rubbing your shoulder to reassure you.
“Uh, good hands my ass, you tripped over a rock and almost sliced half your leg open Klaus.” you said, rolling your eyes under the cloth.
“Goodness, it’s like you don’t trust me at all.” he whines, most likely putting a hand to his chest.
“No, that’s not it, you’re just a clumsy klutz sometimes and for a person with a blindfold, I don’t know if I want to trust you right now.” you reply, ending the conversation.
The two of you continue for a few more minutes, Klaus guiding you as you walk, your hands getting gradually sweaty. His hands drifted just a little bit, resting on the small of your back, and rubbing it tenderly, trying to calm your nerves. He always did that if mischief was going to be involved with any type of activity of his. Just like the time that you and he snuck into a viewing of Avengers:Endgame and yelled out “falsehood” every time someone was lying. Yeah, you two weren’t allowed back in that theater for another year, turns out that some people actually wanted to watch the movie. Oh well.
“Ahh, we’ve arrived my dear.” Klaus says, taking your blindfold off.
You opened your eyes, and as they adjusted to the sun. Upon them finally calming down, you found yourself in front of a Halloween Costume shop. Halloween was approaching quite quickly, and you found yourself wondering what you were going to be. It seems as though Klaus had the same idea. He’d been talking about taking you to a costume shop for eons it seemed, and now he finally got the chance to do it.
“Oh dear, I hope we won’t get banned from this one. You know what happened last time Klaus.” you said, looking at him with a half-stern look on your face.
“Look, it’s not my fault that they don’t have the Sexy Nurse outfit in my size, alright.” Klaus, said, pouting.
You both entered the shop, and it was close to empty, a few parents and their children picking out cute little outfits, witches, unicorns, even a Disney Princess here and there. Before you two could really get involved with each costume, and the elements around it, a conversation caught your ears from the other aisle.
“Mommy, I want to be a princess this year.” a little boy, about 6 said to his mother, who looked appalled at his statement.
“No, little boys can’t be princesses. What about this pirate costume over here, or the Frankenstein one?” she said, trying to drag him away from the frilly dress.
“It’s Frankenstein’s monster, and that story is scary, and it makes me scared.” he said, whining out his response. Tears started to form in his eyes, and Klaus decided to speak up to the mother.
“Hey, you should let him be a princess, or whatever he wants to be. Clothes don’t have a gender, and neither does color, ma’am. Not that big of a deal to let him be a princess if he wants to be. Never hurt to let a child express their feelings.” he said, and upon seeing him, the little boy’s eyes sparked with joy.
Klaus was wearing one of their more expressive outfits today. They were wearing a strawberry skirt, and a plain white shirt on top of it, and tan sandals, a pair of yours. Their curls were tied up, a couple spilling out from the containment. They were always trying to display themselves as neutral as possible, never really deciding on one thing. You were always proud whenever they went to the store, and came out with frills, or a rainbow striped top. It made you bubble up with joy to see them stand up for him.
“Well, wouldn’t you know a thing or two about raising kids.” the mother said, crossing her arms at the site of Klaus, not realizing what she was getting herself into.
“I mean, I had an abusive father, and a robot as a mother, and a chimpanzee as a butler. I’ve traveled through time three times, died twice, and lived to tell the story. Nothing like that’ll stop me from educating people on helping their children realize something.” he replied, crossing their arms as well.
“I’m not taking advice from someone like you, thinking it’s okay to dress like that.” she said, looking Klaus up and down, then looking disapprovingly at you. “Let’s go, Timmy, I’ll get you something from online.”
The little boy started to cry, and you both urged her not to budge. She was dragging him along by the hand, but she stopped at the front register, as one of her friends was at the front. You knew that she’d be there for at least another hour, giving the two of you to use a collective brain cell to conjure an idea. Meanwhile, you both drifted to the older costumes, looking at the options. Of course, we have the stereotypical couples costumes, hotdogs and buns, power sockets, Adam and Eve, and the oh-so-charming bun and bun maker. Klaus floated over to where you were, in the women’s section, and started cutting the options.
“Alright, so we have fucked up tinker bell, tigers, lions, and bears oh my, and sexy nurses.” you say, pinching your nose.
“Oh, come on, we’ll make it fun. I’ll try them on with you.” Klaus offers, putting his hand out for you to shake. You agree, grabbing the tightest ones off of the shelf, along with a questionably orange one.
Klaus heads to the dressing room, and you wait outside, tempted to strip and put on your own costume in the open, since there were only two dressing rooms, one of which had a suspicious stain, the other Klaus occupied.
“Klaus, hurry up, I haven’t got all day.” you say, already sliding on the top and bottoms of your costume, trying to hide yourself.
They open the curtain, and you gulp at the sight. The sexy nurse costume was of course Klaus’ first choice. It covered barely anything, and you could see his ribs poke out from the cropped shirt.
“Come get your medicine children.” they say, slowly walking towards you, until you both hear a small rip.
Uh oh
“Klaus, what did you rip this time?” you ask, walking towards him in your costume, which he didn’t notice, but you inspected him, and turned him, trying to find where his body ripped the tight costume.
“I think it ripped in the ass which makes since, my cakes are plentiful.” they said, shrugging.
They left the costume on, and waited outside while you were getting changed properly, in front of a mirror this time. You put the straps on correctly, and attached the different clips, trying to make sure that everything was in its’ correct place. You opened the door, and revealed yourself to Klaus. Their jaw dropped, and he hovered over you, looking from different angles, concluding that no matter how he looked at you, you looked phenomenal.
“Am I spooky enough?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips, doing a mini hair flip.
“I’m just pissing my pants thinking about this costume, Jesus Christ.” they say, chuckling.
You walk down the same costume aisle, acting like you were on a runway. On the way, you picked up too-big sunglasses and neon pink feather boas, spinning on the way back to him. Klaus picked some up too, and the two of you ran around the store, chasing each other. Different songs came on the intercom, and the two of you danced, but of course, Klaus had to trip over a rack of makeup, and different powders spilled on top of them, causing him to giggle uncontrollably.
“Get up, get up, we’re gonna get in trouble. Come on Klaus, let’s go!” you said, urging him to stand up in his 5 inch platforms from another costume, trying not to laugh.
The security ended up chasing the two of you out of there, but not before you two could give the little boy what he wanted, a cute little dress, with frills. You two even handed him a canister of glitter, just in case. He smiled, and said goodbye to the two of you, just as the security doubled in size.
“See, I told you it was gonna be fun.” Klaus said, kissing you on the cheek, and hugging you from behind. It was getting nighttime, and you both had a bit to walk. However, you two were dead tired, and you got onto a public transport bus, getting stares from the passengers onboard. You two simply shrugged it off, and fell asleep right as the bus took off, only to get rudely kicked off at your stop. The two of you stumbled into your home, messily unlocking the door, and falling onto the couch immediately, sleeping until noon.
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Animal Presentation
"Aunt Teenie its snake time!" Dottie said excitedly, dragging Tina into the library.
Dottie loved zoo day at the library and Tina usually managed to get some good books and a chance to see the cute zoo worker.
Super cute zoo worker, with his bird nest hair and big bright eyes setting up the lizards and snakes that he was going to talk about today. He's wearing a cheery zoo shirt, edible cargo pants, and quietly whispering to his animals as he organizes them.
She embarrassingly even made an effort, well look her clothes are clean and comfortable and Queenie only razzed her a little and wiped some actually good smelling perfume on her wrist before she ran off with Dottie.
She and Dottie find seats in the middle of the circle of chairs. Dottie wriggles excitedly and whispers snake facts until the room is half full and the library worker introduces Newt Scamander as their presenter today.
She loves to loose herself in his British accent. He just has a way with words when he's talking about animals. You watch him outside of presenting and he curls into himself and hides in the wall but with animals in his hands he'll rattle off health facts, habitat facts, anything that has to do with the animal he's holding. And the material is fascinating, she has asked questions before during the question part of the presentation.
He's now walking around so the kids can touch the snake that is wrapped around his forearms and shoulders. She secretly loves this part, he gets close enough that she can feel his body warmth and see his freckles. He never makes eye contact but he continually talks quietly to the animal and kids as they gently touch the snakes scales.
Regrettably the presentation finishes, and the kids and adults file out. Dottie wanders off to the children's section, which is still in eyesight for Tina. She's helped him clean up three times now. The first time a lizard had peed on her and he had grabbed the baby wipes and just wiped her hands without thinking about it. It had been the best moment in her life, but he had gone red and shied off for the rest of the presentation.
The second time wasn't as eventful but he did quietly instruct her on how to stack the cages, give the lizards treats, and where his informative pamphlets went.
This time she's comfortable enough to just get up and get started and they work beautifully as a team. She's memorized all the animals names and greets all of them, makes sure they get their treats and are stacked correctly in his rolling cases.
"Thank you." He says, staring at her shoulder. "You're welcome." She says, lost in his neck freckles.
Dottie comes back with her books and interrupts the mood. "Mr. Scamander, Auntie Teenie would love it if you could come over to our house sometime. We've got a snakes everywhere!" Tina flushes but keeps eye contact with his freckles.
"Dottie!"
"Give him your cop card auntie." She says, reaching into Tina's purse and locating said cards. "Here, this is her number for when you can come over." "You're a policewoman?" He asks, taking the card from Dottie as Tina melts into the floor.
"Yes. And now Dottie and I have to go." She pushes Dottie away towards the checkout kiosk.
A month later
"Great job sweetie!" Queenie says, clinking glasses with Dottie as they watch Tina and Newt cuddle on the grass in front of them, occasionally whispering into each others ears and sharing a piece of cake.
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Tale-Section Tragedy
This is for @jtargaryen18 's Dark Curtis Holiday Challenge. Prompt is 12. “I’ll chain you to my fucking bed if I have to. You understand?” Curtis x Reader. Warnings of smut and angst.This is also the first fic I have written in over five years, so I’m very sorry if it isn’t the best. @jtargaryen18 ‘s AMAZING works have inspired me to try and start writing again.
Word Count- 2599
You were only a baby when your mother brought you onto the train. You weren’t even year old. Unbeknownst to you, your mother was one of the brave men and women who cut off arms and legs to protect children like you from being used as a meal for the strongest of the Tail Section. Her amputated limbs caused her to get an infection and die, all before you could even remember the warmth of her arms and the sweet sound of her voice.
Curtis ended up taking you under his protection, and raised you alongside Edgar. Except, you were different than Edgar. Where Curtis had a tough-love approach for him, he had a fiercely protective love for you that only grew as you got older. He was like a father to you. But you were so much more to him.
You grew to be quiet, soft, and innocent; a rarity within the tail section. Curtis had never imagined that something as sweet as you could exist in this world, and he would do anything to protect the innocence you contained.
But it was so damn difficult for him sometimes. The beauty within you was only enhanced by your looks. Though clearly malnourished, your body radiated with a warm glow. With round eyes that were almost too big for your face, and plump, soft lips that always rested in a pout, you were a sight for sore eyes within the tail section. You grew into a lovely young woman right before Curtis’ eyes.
But you were his daughter in everyone’s eyes. So there was no way he would allow himself to become attracted to you. His subconscious worked hard to push his internal thoughts aside, only allowing them to surface on occasion, usually after one of his more stressful weeks. Like this one...
It was time to make his way to the engine room. Almost everyone knew it. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, Curtis knew it too. With Andy and Timmy being taken, and Andrew’s arm being hacked off, the tail section was ready to fight against their oppression. And Curtis was the one with the plan. The plan that excluded you.
You were unhappy to say the least when you learned through Edgar that Curtis planned on leaving you in the tail section while he and the others fought their way to the front. “He just wants to keep you safe y/n,” Edgar tried to comfort you, as anger built up in your chest.
“But he’s taking you with him,” you snapped, tears of anger and hurt filled your eyes. Why did Curtis expect you to stay put, while he and your brother put themselves in danger?
“It’s not the same, I’m his son, you’re his little girl. You need to be kept safe, away from the action.”
Your throat felt raw from holding back tears. You would not cry and allow Edgar the satisfaction of winning. You would not show him that he was right, and you were too weak to join the fight. “If you’re going, I’m going,” you stood up and left the bunk that Edgar shared with you. You had to find Curtis and demand that he allow you to go. You had never stood up to him like this before, like Edgar said, you were Curtis’ little girl. His angel. You never questioned his choices and always obeyed his commands. But this wasn’t the same.
“Dad,” you called out to Curtis when he came into view. He was talking with Gilliam, confirming details of what was to soon come. “Daddy,” you tried again as you got closer to the pair. Curtis just glanced up at you and held up his finger, one second, he mouthed.
“I’m going with you to the engine room.”
That got his attention. “The hell you are,” his blue eyes glowed dangerously. “Do you honestly believe I’m taking you through that chaos?”
“I refuse to let you leave me behind when you’re taking Edgar with you.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes, “Go back to your bunk and we’ll talk about this later,” he turned back to Gilliam, planning on returning to their conversation.
“No.”
His head snapped back to you, shocked at your response. Gilliam smiled politely, “We can talk later Curtis, you know where to find me.” He began to hobble away. Curtis barely heard him as he made his way closer to you, towering over your small frame.“What did you just say?” He glowered, his eyes smoldering and angry.
A shiver of fear ran down your spine. This was new, you were never on the receiving end of any anger Curtis held. But you had to stand your ground.”I said no, I want to have this conversation now.”
His smile in response held not even a glimpse of humor, “You’re not going, end of story.”
“I am going, you can’t just leave me behind.”
“If you think for even a second, that I will take you through all that danger just so you feel included in this, you’re severely mistaken.”
You felt your eyes beginning to tear up once again, “Dad please, you have to take me with you. What if you don’t come back? Or Edgar doesn’t come back? I can’t just let you die without having the chance to help you.”
Curtis’ expression softened at the tears rolling freely down your face. He pulled you into his chest and softly ran a hand down your back. He kissed the top of your head. “You don’t know how to fight, or protect yourself, or retreat safely. I can’t let you come just to put yourself at a high risk.”
Frustration built in your chest once again. “If you won’t bring me, I’ll just follow you anyway. You can’t force me to stay here.”
“I can force you to stay here, and I will if you keep this up,” Curtis’ eyes were dark with anger again. His hand began to shake slightly as he felt himself losing control. He clenched and unclenched his fists, willing himself to push down the new thoughts that began to enter his mind. One more word of disobedience and he would not be able to stop himself.
You didn’t seem to notice his predicament, as you too were seething. “I am going Daddy, whether you want me to or not.”
You were caught off guard when you felt Curtis’ fierce grip on your wrist, followed by him forcibly dragging you to his bunk. He was coming undone.
“Now you listen and you listen close little girl. You will stay here. You will not fight with us. I’ll chain you to my fucking bed if I have to. You understand?”
You didn’t have the time to react before you felt yourself being shoved onto his bed, but you weren’t going down without a fight. “No dad, stop it.” you demanded as you wriggled underneath him; slamming your hands up to pound against his chest, kicking your legs up to shove his body away from you. Curtis just crawled on top of you, allowing you to wear yourself out, never striking him hard enough to hurt. It was almost amusing.
Your struggling only made yourself more frustrated, you were proving him right- you didn’t know how to fight. But that didn’t mean you wanted to be left behind. Finally, your leg struck up in a certain angle, hitting Curtis between his legs and forcing his attention away from keeping you trapped beneath him. He groans, and for a second you are able to slide off of his bed and run away from his bunk.
You weren’t expecting him to recover so quickly. His brain clouded with rage and he lost himself to the thoughts he had worked so hard to subdue. This was not your Curtis, the one who raised you as his daughter. This was a Curtis who wanted, no, needed to make you understand who was in charge.
He caught up to you in seconds, throwing you over his shoulder and bringing you back to his bed. “You’ve made a big mistake little one,” his voice grumbled into your ear. He shoved you onto his bed, leaning his full weight onto you to keep you still. You whimpered as he grabbed ahold of either side of your shirt and ripped it off of you.
“D-dad?” You stuttered, beginning to regret arguing with him. “Daddy stop, you’re hurting me.”
Curtis chuckled darkly, using half of your shirt to tie your your wrists together and trap them above your head, on the metal railing of his bed.You tugged against your restraints, terrified of what he was going to do next. You shivered as he brought his face close to yours, lips grazing up your neck and towards your mouth.
“W-what are you doing? C-curtis please.”
He just chuckled again, using his knife to cut the flimsy material of your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You began fighting again, tugging harshly at your wrists and trying to kick your feet up at him again. But he put all of his weight on your legs, effectively keeping them down. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted you little girl.”
“Curtis - no, you’re my d-dad.” For the third time that night you began to cry.
“Oh little one, so sweet and naive. Like nothing else on this entire train. Once I make it to the engine room, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I just need to keep you safe until then.” He pulled one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging on it as his hand played with your other one.
“Daddy please don’t.”
Curtis’ eyes twinkled darkly at you. He knew you were scared, but he knew you’d come around. What he was about to do was necessary. It might not be what you wanted, but it was what you needed. You loved him, sure you thought of him like he was your father, but he’d be able to convince you to change your mind and love him as something more. Like the way he loved you.
“I’m sorry about this little girl,” His hand traveled down your body and began to tug down your pants and underwear, “But I promise to make it feel good.” held your legs apart and stared at the flowering lips of your virgin pussy. His cock grew harder in his pants when he saw your legs twitch and flutter. He licked his fingers and lightly tapped upon your clit, creating a sensation you have never felt before. It was clear that you had never even touched yourself before, and he couldn’t wait to teach you about the purest form of pleasure.
You squirmed and whimpered as he traced circle on your clit. He lowered his mouth towards your folds and inhaled your scent. Unable to stop himself, he pushed his lips against your pussy, using his tongue to taste all of you. You let out a squeak of pleasure, and felt ashamed at how good it felt. Curtis just smirked and layed his tongue flat against your clit, inserting one of his thick fingers inside of you. The stretch was painful, but he did his best to go slow, and make you nice and lubed up before adding a second and third finger. He smiled at how reactive you were, enjoying how wet he made you and the little squeaks that kept falling from your mouth. He curled his fingers upwards and found a spot that had you seeing stars- you let out a loud moan as he brushed his fingers across that spot a few more times. You felt something building up inside you, something you had never felt before. Curtis noticed your walls fluttering against his fingers and smiled, “Are you gonna cum for me little girl? Are you gonna cum on your daddy’d fingers?” As much as you’d hate to admit it, his words sent you over the edge and you came for the first time in your life, calling out, “Daddy.”
You closed your eyes and breathed hard, trying to regain composure. But before you opened your eyes, Curtis had his pants down and his shirt off. His hard cock pressed against your thighs and you looked down to glance at it. It was so big, you didn’t know how it was going to fit inside of you. “Daddy please, I can’t.”
He just smirked, “You can, and you will.” You heard him spit on his dick, lubing it up as much as he could, and you hoped that you were wet enough from your orgasm to help the process along. He lined himself up to you, and slowly pushed his cock inside of you. The stretch was the most painful thing you had ever felt, and you expected Curtis to start thrusting in hard, but he took his time and let you adjust to him. He wanted to make this as pleasurable as possible for you. Sure he was punishing you for disobedience, but he didn’t want to make your first time a traumatic event. He wanted you looking forward to more.
He slowly began pulling out of you-reveling in the feeling of your pussy clenching against his cock-before inserting himself again. He repeated this action twice before speeding up and letting himself get lost in you. Soon enough, the coil in the pit of your stomach rose again. Curtis slid his hand down to draw circle on your clit. “Come on little one, come on Daddy’s cock.” You cried out as you came with Curtis, losing consciousness. “I love you little girl,” you heard before everything went black.
You woke up dressed, with Curtis’ arms holding you close to him. You felt confused about your feelings towards him. You wanted so badly to be hurt that he had used your body-you thought he was your dad for goodness sake! But you knew he loved you, maybe more than he loved anything else, and for some reason that was enough for you to find peace in his arms for the night.
When you woke up the next morning, Curtis wasn’t holding you anymore. He was standing beside the bed with Edgar, both of them looking concerned. You looked at them in confusion and tried to stand up, only to be stopped by chains trapping you to the bed by your legs and chest.
“What’s going on?” you demanded, hoping this wasn’t what you thought it was, “Daddy? Edgar? Why am I chained?”
Edgar was the one to respond, “It’s the only way to be sure you stay safe y/n.”
Your heart stopped, the revolution was happening today-right now-and they were leaving you behind.”No, please. Edgar don’t leave me here. Daddy please, you have to let me come along. I can help!”
Edgar bent down and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight for just a few seconds, “I’m sorry, we have to. I love you y/n, you’re my sister. I promise I’ll see you when this is all over, when we make it to the engine room.” He kissed your cheek and walked away, leaving you alone with Curtis for the last time.
Curtis crawled on the bed you were literally chained to, wishing he didn’t have to do this too you. “We’ll be back, little one, and everything will be different.” He kissed you, and you shocked yourself by kissing back. “I love you” was the last thing you heard from Curtis before everything went dark once again.
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divorce | myg | 12
summary: in which you have to go through a painful process of your own family shattering
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: angst
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
A/N; Before you start reading and get confused. This chapter will be a flashback to when it all started. Meaning: The encounter of Y/N and Yoongi until their break down
“How much is it?” The customer asked as you sighed and clicked on the cash register, taking the money which he gave you.
A day just like any other. You sat down on the chair behind you as you pulled out your phone, checking the time. It was about time that he would enter.
You stood up and looked around the store, spotting some children in the candy section. Suspiciously you watched them, furrowing your eyebrows as they started whispering around and constantly gazing at you. A loud ringing made you come back to reality, signaling you that someone entered the grocery store. Once your gaze met his you smiled and he returned it softly.
It was Min Yoongi. You were together in high school but never dared to talk to each other. He was with his friends while you were with yours. Even though you were even in the same courses you never talked, not even in group projects. You still gave each other some glances here and then and eventually you grew a crush on him. After you graduated you parted ways with him and most of your friends. Most of them got accepted in university while you had to collect money to gain some money. At first, you started working in a bookstore but changed to the grocery store since the salary was much higher.
After collecting money you promised yourself to study, but once he set a foot in the grocery store you knew that thing might change.
He took the box of instant noodles. The same flavor which was hot chicken. He came here every day at the time were most of the workers had their lunch breaks. You assumed that he already worked, probably in the company of his own father since everyone in high school talked about his father being really influential and successful.
He came in a blue suit, sometimes in red but you had to admit that none of them were making him look more attractive than the black suit.
It’s been already a few months where you two met but still didn’t talk that much. It was rather a small talk here and there but as long as he talked you were okay with everything.
“The same flavor again” you blurred out, hating yourself for commenting on his taste. He let out a soft chuckle.
“You seem to remind yourself of what I buy.” He still had the wide smile on lips while you felt the blood rushing to your ears. He paid for his lunch and wanted to leave.
“Excuse me …” you didn’t know why but today was such a different atmosphere between you two. He stopped in his tracks, turning around.
“Y/N … we know us since high school. It’s strange if you call me formally. You can call me Min Yoongi.” He clarified and you nodded slightly.
You shut your eyes, taking all your strength and confidence together. It was about time to have the courage to ask him out. It’s not only you who feels as if you were flying the moment your eyes meet. Also, you heard that before you started he rarely came. Just when you started working in the grocery store he came often since he saw you.
“Uh-” just as you wanted to ask him out but you saw the children from earlier running behind Yoongi and reaching the exit.
“You little rascal!” You shout as you point behind Yoongi. His eyes widened as he thought that you were pointing at him.
“Excuse me?” He muttered his expressions from earlier fading into confused ones.
“N-no!” You stutter as you leave the counter “I, I didn’t mean you. These kids!” You say, walking closer to Yoongi as you pointed at the children who were about to open the exit door.
Yoongi turned around, his head shooting up once he noticed what the children were doing. Before you could even react you saw Yoongi running outside and chasing the kids.
“Oh no…” you sigh deeply, you palm reaching for your forehead. You couldn’t leave the store on its own but you couldn’t Yoongi chase them alone.
Screw this!
You left the store and ran into the direction where he ran in hope to find them. Back in high school, you were quite good at sports that’s why you reached them fast. Seeing Yoongi from behind, you yelled his name.
“Did they escape?” You ask in disbelief, panting loudly.
Yoongi nodded, the sun shining brightly on his face, blinding him as he turned around to take deep breaths to stimulate his breathing.
“I’m sorry …” he breathed out and you grinned widely.
“It’s not your fault … I should’ve been more careful” you admit and wave your hand in front of your face, trying to blow wind on your face since it was a hot summer day.
You two gave up to look after the children and decided to return to the store. The walk was awkwardly silent and you glanced at each other from time to time until you reached the store.
“Thank you for helping me” you bow your head slightly as you return behind the counter.
“I couldn’t be much of a help but no problem, I guess” he chuckled to himself, making you smile wide at him. He looked at the counter, searching for his noodle cup which wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You noticed and searched for the cup as well but couldn’t find anything.
“I will bring you a new one,” you said, holding one hand out while pointing your finger up. Just as you searched for his favorite flavor you sighed, remarking that his favorite flavor was already bought off.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have the flavor anymore. Do you have any other wish?” You asked him, waiting for his answer which took a while since he was thinking about something.
“How about you eat lunch together with me, tomorrow. That’s my wish …” he murmured and you thought that he swallowed a huge fish since it was hard to understand him.
Your cheeks flushed with a scent of pink as you turned your head to him, nodding slowly.
“I would love to!” You smile wholeheartedly.
“Cool! I will pick you up tomorrow…” he said promising and left the store.
It wasn’t cliche at all and pretty simple. You always had an eye for him since high school and you were sure he had too. He was visiting the grocery store every day and you knew that he doesn’t eat only noodle cups for lunch. You waited for him to ask you out but he didn’t that’s why you started trying to get a hold of this and ask him out yourself. Seems like destiny was on your side since he asked you out.
You watched him leaving the store and right after he left you started jumping on your place, screaming from the top of your lungs over joy. Finally, you two would have the chance to know each other.
You went behind the counter again and finished working while you looked at the clock constantly.
Once you reached home you searched for the best clothes in your closet.
“No …” you mumbled, throwing the cloth behind you as you grabbed the next one, examining it.
“Too much for a lunch date…” you bit your lip as you looked at the skin-tight dress. Sighing deeply, you stepped back and let yourself fall on your back.
“Ahh!” You pout hiding your face in your hands as you clenched them into a fist and hit the mattress under you. “This is so nerve wrecking!” You sit straight up as you hear your door opening. Your mother pecked her head out of the corner as she eyed you confused.
“Are you okay, love?” She asked, a heart-warming smile growing on her lips. She closed the door and stepped closer to you.
“I… I just don’t have anything to wear.” You sighed frustratedly. The eyes of your mother were wandering around your room. Every corner was with a different cloth. Shirts, pants, dresses and even shoes. She was utterly shocked by the dirt exploding in your room.
“Do you have an important meeting?” She asked, not mentioning the mess you created which you were thankful for. You bit your lower lip, thinking about whether to tell her or not.
“I…” Once you started thinking of tomorrow, your cheeks flushed red and you lowered your head, hoping for her to not notice. It wasn’t your first date but in your heart, you had this strange feeling which you never had with any guy. He must be special because there is no rational explanation for your feelings exploding whenever you thought of him.
“Do you have a date?” Her eyes light up and you wondered how she knew. Your heart made a jump and you couldn’t really tell if it was the feeling of relief or just another thought of Yoogi. Looking up into her eyes, you nodded.
“Y/N! I am so happy for you!” She shrieked so loud that I had to cover her mouth to prevent your father from hearing. She nodded, understanding what you meant by shushing her.
“And you literally did nothing but look into your closet for clothes?” She had wide eyes, her expressions told you that she was pretty shocked.
“Um… yeah?”
“Ah! What a pity!” She stood up as she grabbed your arm, dragging you out of your room. “You’ll take a shower now and I’ll pick your dress!”
You knew the sense of fashion of your mother and seriously you would gladly refuse her offer. Nonetheless, she insisted to help you.
“Oh no, mom. I know your sense of taste-” she cut you off, disappointment written all over her face.
“What about my sense of taste?” She put her hands on her hips as she waited for you to answer.
You gulped down the confidence you had seconds ago and bit your lip, mumbling a soft ‘nothing’ as you went into the bathroom.
You hopped into the shower and washed, thinking about tomorrow. What would you two be doing? What if everything’s awkward? You knew that you were kind of socially awkward but you still couldn’t stop that euphoric feeling growing in your stomach.
You jumped out of the shower and put on your pajamas. After taking the towel you started drying your hair while walking up into your room. You switched on your lights and were greeted by the dress your mother chose for you. The blue colored, flower dress which you grandma brought you two years ago. You sight at the sight of the old-fashioned cloth and bit your lip. Nonetheless, you wanted to wear it since you didn’t want you mother to be upset about you not wearing the outfit she chose.
You slipped under your blankets and shut your eyes. Tomorrow would be a perfect day.
“So do like it here?” He started talking, trying to make the awkward atmosphere a little brighter.
You smiled, folding your hands in front of your face while resting your chin on them. Nodding slowly, you reached out for your glass of wine.
It wasn’t the way you thought it would be, to be honest. After work, he brought you to a fancy restaurant. Well, he was high society, of course, he wouldn’t bring you just anywhere. But for you, the location, the people, the atmosphere of these people were just different. You didn’t feel like you belong here but you still didn’t want to hurt his feelings since it was your chance to get to know him.
Once the food was served you glanced at him and how he started to eat. You tried to copy him as he took his first bite elegantly. Gulping hard you acted like you knew what you were doing. You were on dates, no doubt but this was just a whole new level of a date. Somehow challenging.
“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked concern was written all over his face. Fast, you put on a smile which didn’t convince him.
“You don’t like it?” He mumbled, sounding hurt as he dropped his fork. You shook your head, immediately as you held out your hands.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just …” you sighed, leaning in on your seat. It’s time, to be honest, “It’s just that I am not used to going out like this, I guess-” he sure didn’t understand what you meant by the look of his face. In that moment, an idea dropped down in your mind.
“I’ll show you…” you said, taking his hand and leaving the restaurant after paying for the unfinished food.
He was startled by your behavior. No woman felt uncomfortable in fancy places. They loved it and were happy to eat there while taking pictures of their location, bragging about them.
“Where are you going? Let me get us the car” He said and tried to get out of your grip but you simply turned around and smiled.
“We won’t need a car today.” You smiled and he was overwhelmed by the breathtaking view of you smiling wholeheartedly.
It was evening but since it was summer the sun still hasn’t disappeared. You went into a convenience store and bought some candies, beer and something eatable other than sweets. After that, you walked out of it with two bags in your hand. He watched you curiously but you just smiled nonstop and took his hand in yours again as you walked down the road, finding a way to go upwards to the small mountains in your village.
In front of you was s huge bridge. No cars were here, no people. Only the two of you. You jumped on the stone side of the bridge and sat down, watching the green and pleasant view in front of you. Yoongi joined next to you as you opened the bags.
“Isn’t that unhealthy?” He asked hesitantly as he looked at what you brought.
“Sometimes we have to enjoy things rather than thinking much about it…” you said, handing him the beer and opened yours.
“You’re weird” he suddenly stated, making you choke on the beer you sipped in seconds ago.
“Well … thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as his eyes widened at his statement.
“I didn’t mean it that way… it’s just you’re a lot more different from the girls I’ve met. I wonder why you never caught my eyes in high school…” he mumbled and you chuckled as you took the bag of chips and opened them.
“To be honest … in high school. I had a huge crush on you” you admit as you faced the bag of chips, afraid of looking up. Nonetheless, you heard him chuckle as he lifted your chin up.
His eyes locking with yours. He was amazed by the beauty in front of him. The evening sun shining through your hair, covering your silhouettes in a shade of orange while his eyes trailed down to your lips, biting his uncontrollably.
“What about now?” He suddenly asked, his voice sounding low and raspy as he switched looks from your eyes to your lips. You held in your breathing, closing your eyes and waiting for his touch.
Of course, you still had a crush on him but you were shy to tell him. He was so outgoing and good with everyone, you were afraid of him rejecting you. That he would kiss you on your first date wasn’t in your mind. But from the first moment you locked eyes with him, you knew that the twirling feeling in your stomach had to mean something serious. Deeper and more serious than a deep crush.
When his lips touched yours, you relaxed your senses. His hand was trailing up your face as he cupped it. Every part of his fingertips made you feel even hotter. It felt like he was giving you electric touches and his lips were gently kissing yours. He stroked your cheeks and at that moment you felt him smiling into the kiss, making you lose your mind. He just fits perfectly.
Feeling you breathing getting slower you knew that it was time to part your lips to catch some air. The warmth left your body as soon as he leaned back, leaving you completely frustrated but happy.
He started smiling goofily as he bit his lips. “I take that as a yes”
#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts angst series#bts angst scenarios#bts x reader#bts x you#bangtan angst#bangtan angst series#bangtan angst scenarios#min yoongi series#min yoongi angst#yoongi x you#min yoongi scenarios#yoongi angst series
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One of the odd things about the department of magical security was that, despite bearing witness daily to the worst parts of humanity, they still had an enormous amount of hope. So it was of no surprise to anyone when the senior aurors continued looking for their director even after President Picquery declared him dead. It had been nearly a week and there was limited hope that Grindlewald had kept Graves alive at all – he certainly wasn’t answering any questions and in fact seemed to find the whole thing an enormous joke. Graves’ apartment in town had been thoroughly searched and so had the apartments of his few friends outside of work, but nothing was found. It was only as Delgado was searching for a forwarding address for Graves’ family that he found it. The last glimmer of hope that Graves still lived: the Graves family home.
The Graves family was one of the oldest magical families in the world. It was said that they were fae from Ireland who had come over during the great famine, hoping to find a better place along with thousands of other Irish immigrants, in the new world. The Graves estate was in the foothills of the Adirondeck mountains, making Percival Graves something of a country boy. It was isolated, well protected, and nearly inaccessible by road. This made it the perfect place for strange stories to spring up, even amongst the magical community, about that odd family that lived up in the hills. But any questions about the oddity of the family were brushed off or laughed away. After all, no one kept a secret better than a Graves.
So it was at the Graves family home that Delgado imagined they would find Percival Graves, alive or dead. A small contingent of aurors, twelve altogether, led by Delgado and McIntre, set out to discover what they would at the Graves estates. As soon as they set foot on the property, Delgado knew that this was the place. There was a swell of magic – not quite dark magic, but very old and dangerous – that ran over them as they crossed the gate, as though they had walked through a waterfall. Goldstein, by far the youngest auror present, was not the only one that shivered.
The plan had been to cross the gate and search the property in teams of two, but with that strange feeling in the air, that sense of danger, no one was willing to be the first to break off. Instead, they made their way across the grounds, wild and overgrown but still with a sense of that order which they must have had prior to their long neglect. The house sat back from the gate, its massive porch partially hidden behind a large pine tree. The windows glinted in the sunlight, and for a moment the party of aurors paused. It had seemed for a second while the sun shimmered across the glass that the house was surveying them. That dark feeling they had gotten at the gate intensified, and each auror clutched their wand tightly. But they had no but to go on, and, after a moment, they did.
Delgado was the first on the porch. His step was sure and sound. He had felt something else at the gate, something familiar. Something distinctly Graves. This kept him moving where others froze. But when the door creaked open as he put his weight on the board, he hesitated. There was something about this place. Something not quite right. And, perhaps, something Graves. It was the Graves part which encouraged him to go on. The other aurors gathered like chicks in front of the step, looking at the door with pale, drawn faces.
“Don’t falter now,” Delgado called to them, “‘Are you men, or are you dogs?’” That last got them over the edge. It was something Graves had said to each of them many times both in training and in the field. McIntre stepped up first with a huffed laugh.
“Come on then,” McIntre said, gesturing at the others to follow.
The interior of the house was as curiously neglected as the grounds. That is to say that it clearly had not been lived in for some time, and yet there was a certain presence to it. Like the grounds, there was still a sense of order and nobility to the place. Each auror got a sudden sinking in the pit of their stomach’s, the kind of sinking that warns you there is danger ahead, and can help you in a pinch, if you’ll listen to it. The party stilled, looking carefully around with as little movement as possible.
Goldstein, closest to the living room, began to drift from the group. It was clear that she wasn’t consciously doing it – she looked as though she were in a daze. Her expression was not one any of the aurors could recall seeing before and McIntre tried to shout at her to “stop!,” to “wait!” but it came out in a whisper and it was all to no avail. She drifted seemingly aimlessly through the living room and passed under the archway into the room beyond. Faces tight with worry, the aurors looked at each other. No one wanted to follow her, but they could hardly leave her either. Careful not to touch anything, they walked through the living room, huddled together and calling quietly for Goldstein to come back.
The next room was an office, eerily similar to Graves’ office at MACUSA. Goldstein stood before his desk, staring up at a large portrait behind it. When the other aurors filed into the room, they could see the terrible thing. In some ways, it resembled the man they had come to find. There were certain familial traits: the wild black hair; the button nose; the sharp jaw; the dark, intelligent eyes. That was where the resemblance ended. This portrait was not of something human. The forehead rose up into a leaf-like crown, changing color above the furrowed brow to something like wood, from which dark hair cascaded. The ears were too long, too pointed. The man was wearing armor, but it was armor unlike any human hands could make. It seemed to be made of leaves. Behind the man were gossamer wings, rising up and enfolding the two children playing at his feet. Like all wizard portraits, the figures were moving. The children, each with the same strange features as their father, were dressed in skeleton leaves. They moved little rocks around by waving their hands, sometimes fluttering their wings to get out of reach of each other, while their father looked on indulgently.
“He looked at me when I came in,” Goldstein said, startling the aurors out of their inspection of the portrait, “he lifted one hand and pointed down, and looked away again.”
“He’s in the basement,” Delgado said, “come on.” He had to physically drag Goldstein out by her sleeve, and she wasn’t the only one who was hesitant to leave. Now more concerned than ever about remaining on the property for too long, Delgado marched over to the stairs practically at a run, before throwing open the door and descending.
The basement carried a chill that was absent in the rest of the house. It carried a deeper chill than should have been possible. The walls were stone and the roots from the pine tree at the front of the house had begun to come through the cracks in the wall. Several stones were dislodged and a beam of light shone in from under the porch. It glittered where it fell across a glass table in the center of the room. The table was covered with a large cloth, except for one small section closest to the stairs, where someone had been in a hurry to cover it again and had not been thorough.
Suddenly, Goldstein gasped, her left hand going over her mouth in a gesture more familiar to her sister. “It’s not a table,” she cried, “it’s a casket!”
“Come on!” Delgado grabbed McIntre and together they threw off the cloth, revealing the truth in Goldstein’s intuition. What they had thought was a table was a glass casket, held together with iron welding. Inside was a man who, though he more closely resembled the portrait upstairs than the man they remembered, was nonetheless a man they would recognize anywhere. His dark eyebrows knitted together in a furrow they had all seen before, his dark hair longer than they had ever seen it, the silver sliding through the rest of the dark strands. He was wearing a strange armor. Unlike the portrait upstairs, his armor was manmade, but it was finer than any that could be made without magic, and the designs were so similar as to be indistinguishable from that of the portrait. There was a dark braid up the center with patterns spreading out from it like the veins of a leaf from its stem. The shoulder plates and arm guards also had leaf-like patterns, and under the armor Graves wore a flowing white shirt. In his hands he clutched a long sword, the handle engraved with the tree of life. Its blade was red with blood rust. His boots and greaves were also embroidered, and his dark green pants had swirling patterns in them which, when McIntre leaned forward to look, were hundreds of leaves stitched together.
What Delgado noticed, however, was that Graves was still breathing.
“Get this off him!” he shouted, pulling the other aurors out of their shocked trance and into action. Quickly, they came around to the locked side to lift the lid. Nothing was working on the lock, however, not any of the complex unlocking spells Delgado knew.
“Fuck!” he cried, slamming his fist into the casket, “Fuck! Fuck!”
They could all see now how Graves was struggling to breath, how pale his skin looked, how he had yet to open his eyes in all this commotion. Delgado slammed his fist again on the lid, desperate, and an unfinished piece of the iron edge sliced into his palm. Blood ran quickly down his hand and arm, flowing onto the casket’s lid and sliding into the lock. Rather than dripping to the floor, it seemed that the lock was gathering each drop of blood which flowed into it. Soon, it began to creep out of the lock at a horizontal angle to the lid. It shaped into the handle of an old key while the aurors, once again still and quiet with shock, watched this ancient magic do its work. When the key’s handle was fully formed, Delgado reached out, hand shaking, and turned it in the lock.
With a gush of air, the casket’s lid sprang open, and at the same time, Graves opened his eyes, sat up, and gasped. Graves looked disgustedly at the sword in his hand, throwing it out of the casket. He tossed his legs over the side and sprang to his feet in a motion which should not have been effortless for a forty year old man. When he stood, tossing the hair out of his eyes, his aurors saw him as they had never seen him before. They saw him as he was. The man who stood before them was ageless, timeless, and as strange as that thing in the portrait upstairs. And he was their boss. And he was the man they had come to rescue. And they had done it.
He looked at them, uncertain of his reception, and took a careful step towards Delgado, stumbling a little from months of inactivity. McIntre caught him as he started to fall, putting his arm around him, and leading him over to the stairs to sit down. His twelve aurors gathered around him, and Graves blinked. For a moment he had seen not the faces of his closest compatriots and friends, but the faces of twelve knights, each brimming with magic and hope, and each looking at him to lead them into the new century. For a moment he saw his aurors as they were. He reeled a little with the weight of it, and when he blinked back at them, he saw them again as he knew them. Twelve men and women, exhausted and smiling, in dirty suits, each reaching out to him to pat him on the shoulder or the knee, each happy to have him back. And when he smiled at them, they once again saw the man they knew too.
Together, they exited the house and grounds, Graves arm in arm with Delgado and Goldstein. If any of them had looked back, they would have seen that that strange portrait in the office now contained only one child. But they were aurors, and they knew better than that. And they didn’t see, and they didn’t wonder.
The odd thing about the department of magical security is not, after all, the wild hope that its aurors have. It is, and always has been, its director.
#percival graves#fbawtft#tina goldstein#my writing#graves as arthur#delgado as lancelot#goldstein as galahad#mcintre as kay#arthurian legend#fae
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Yagg for the ask meme, all the even questions?
ohmyhod thank you! I just really want to talk about her all the time!! This took really long to answer sorry, but I really enjoyed doing it! So many interesting questions, thank you again so much!! :D
2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?Yagg is from the Underdark, and is a daughter of a Priestess of Lolth. With Drow society being a matriarchy, and Priestesses ruling the sections in which they live, Yagg was nobility. She had a title once, but no longer does.
4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? Yagg has no idea who her father was, he was assassinated before she was born. As for her mother, their relationship is extremely strained. Being the oldest of 14 children, she was raised to eventually take her mother’s place. She was never shown affection, and she was trained to be absolutely ruthless from a young age.
Yagg has a twin brother who was raised basically to be her training dummy, which have to be her worst memory of her mother.
Her mother did always ensure that she wanted for nothing, in terms of worldly goods.
6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? She excelled at school in most areas other than the Arts. Yagg is the least artistic person possibly ever? She is an extremely talented Sorceress, and studied both politics and languages in depth after her intermediate schooling was done.
8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?She had no pets as a child, but she does have a raven that follows her around after she mended its broken wing. If you ask, she’ll say she doesn’t like animals, but she can be found sneaking away to pet stray cats and dogs.
10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?Yagg absolutely does not like children and children absolutely do not like her. She’d be a horrible parent, and this is something she is well aware of. Mostly, she doesn’t want the responsibility. She can stand the children of people she cares about, but she would rather not be left alone with them until they can hold a conversation.
12. What is their favourite food? She loves rusks. Likes to dunk them in her tea.
14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?The first meal Yagg had when she escaped from the Underdark. It was just simple broth, but it came with an added sense of freedom. And she didn’t have to wonder if any of her siblings had poisoned it.
16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? I wouldn’t call this a collection, exactly, but Yagg does have a number of finger bones strung together on a chain that she hangs from her belt. Let’s just say...her core motto is ‘If you take something from me, I take something from you’...
18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything elseNot that she would admit to it, but she reads a lot of poetry. But like...really, really bad poetry...
20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?Yagg enjoys music, but she prefers the quiet. It’s much harder to hear potential assassins approaching when there’s outside noises.
22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?Yagg’s favourite insult is to just give them a big, shining smile. Yagg, being the Extra No Chill Mess she is, had her teeth removed, and then replaced with mithril needles.
24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?Yagg struggles to sleep, as she is hyper aware of her safety. But if she does feel safe, then she’ll sleep anywhere. Mattress, bed of rocks, she doesn’t give a shit.
26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? If Yagg is happy, you’ll be able to notice the corner of her mouth slightly lifted. Other than that, there’s no way to tell.
28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?Yagg’s biggest fear is being found by her twin brother. She loves him very much, and he absolutely loathes her. She knows that if they ever come across each other again, one of them will die. When Yagg is afraid, she’s very fidgety. She can’t stay still, and will sometimes bite her nails if she’s terrified.
30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?She is very fit, being trained not only in magic use but also with a short sword. Yagg enjoys a challenge, physical or mental, so she’ll generally be pretty keen to exercise.
32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?Look, she was raised to be a fancy lady, and that’s how she dresses. She loves jewels and dark, rich fabrics. Mostly chiffon, and other things flow. She doesn’t wear makeup mostly because she doesn’t have the time to apply it, but her hair is always immaculate. If you ignore the finger bones she wears on her belt, she’d fit in perfectly amongst nobles.
34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?She’s tall, and slim but well toned. She likes her body because it does what it’s supposed to. As for how it looks physically, she doesn’t care.
36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing? Well, other than magic and stabbing things, Yagg has no talents...I mean, she’s very good at those two things. And she can seduce the pants off of literally anyone (extremely high charisma lol), but...
She does have a hobby, though. She’s not good at it, and she’ll lie if anyone finds out, but she writes poetry. Super shitty poetry.
38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?Well obviously, she wishes she could write not-shitty poetry. But she’d also like to have the ability to create something, artistically speaking.
40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?Yagg would stab a bitch for cake. She loves cake, and she’ll die eating it probably.
42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?Yagg’s chief goal is freedom. Freedom from being hunted by her mother and her twin brother, freedom from constant fear. Her secret ambition is just...to be extremely, filthy rich. She loves her freedom, even though she’s constantly on the run, but she misses luxury.
44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? Being that Yagg specialises in Storm Magic, she loves any season that involves regular stormy weather. Which means this season changes depending where in the hemisphere she is.
46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?She makes a good first impression when she wants to. She can turn on the charm if it’s required, but mostly she doesn’t care to do so. Mostly she’s just sarcastic and bitter. She won’t bother to introduce herself unless she’s asked to.
48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? She likes parties, but she doesn’t like responsibility so she never organises them. Mostly, she’ll just turn up. Seduce a couple of people. And go home.
50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?Well she only carries one bag with her anyway. She’d take her cloak and the cloakpin that goes with it, both were gifts from her mother and she has a strange attachment to them both. Other than that, she’s not too attached to anything.
#dnd#dungeons and dragons#Yagg#trashabgs trash babies#not dragon age#text post#long post#d&d#drow#isharaytaoshay
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Slytherin to your Chamber of Secrets (Rebecca x Nathaniel)
Or: five times Nathaniel was a gigantic Harry Potter nerd in front of Rebecca
AN: I’m a terrible person, but I’m into it. Sorry not sorry. I’ll drag you all into the trash with me.
...
#1
How did she not realize before? Ever since the elevator, it had become so obvious to her.
And she wasn’t talking about him being hot - that was definitely a before the elevator thing.
She was talking about the myriad of Harry Potter related things she had discovered around and about her boss. And she hadn’t even been spying on him that much. Okay, not much for her was still a lot more than most people, but still. She hadn’t even followed him home - much.
Yeah, she’d been a little bored since the engagement... since it ended.
Dr. Akopian thought she’d been channeling her energy into something healthy. And it was healthy. For her. She was trying to draw out Nathaniel Plimpton’s humanity from underneath his robotic exterior. It was good for the firm, and it had nothing to do with her personal interest.
Nothing at all.
Which was what she’d tell Paula if she wasn’t so busy reconciling with Scott - which was super important, she understood that. She just missed the days when Paula was readily available to listen to all her issues.
Heather wasn’t nearly as good of a listener.
Wait, what was she thinking about? Right, Nathaniel Plimpton’s scarf. They were on their way to New York (damn Audra Levine), and since fall had made its approach everywhere but in California, warm clothes were necessary.
But a green and silver-grey striped scarf? Obvious. To her, anyway. None of the other Muggles on their flight had made the connection.
“Still evil,” she told him, with a pointed look.
“Cunning and ambitious,” he corrected, before turning back to his files.
She totally got points for noticing. She knew she did.
#2
The office Halloween party was traditionally raucous - Darryl just really loved dressing up, and now that he and WhiJo could wear a nauseatingly cute couple’s costume, he was even more excited.
The boss, however? Not so much.
The party had to be held on a Friday, after working hours, because God forbid his employees were anything other than robot lawyers.
And maybe her Hermione Granger costume wouldn’t exactly pass muster - McGonagall would surely give her detention for the amount of buttons she’d opened on her slightly too small blouse - she had the advantage of completely flustering Nathaniel.
It wasn’t the entire reason why she chose the costume - but she could admit to herself that it was a part of the reason. A tiny small part that she was denying the second after admitting it.
Because she could relate to Hermione. She was not the gorgeous one - she was the awkward one with the brains that most people didn’t know how to relate to.
But Rebecca was a different person - she knew now that she could never be happy with Ron.
The epilogue was bullshit anyway. She’s argued that point to everyone who would listen. No one ever seemed to agree.
“Albus Severus?” she muttered angrily to herself as she went to grab herself another drink. “Now that’s worse than a Cruciatus.”
There was a chuckle behind her, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know who was there. She knew that voice - had dreamt about that voice more than once, even after the damn wind went back to wherever it was supposed to be.
“When a Weasley is better at naming children,” he started, and she knew this was going to be good.
“You know Hermione picked the names,” she immediately interrupted. “Ron’s middle name is Bilius!”
When Paula found her half an hour later, she was still extolling the ridiculousness of naming children after constellations. Seriously, Scorpius?
Of course Nathaniel would defend the Slytherins on this. He was just so typical that she refused to tell him that she wrote Rose/Scorpius fanfic once upon a time. Someone had to fix canon.
#3
They’d gotten more comfortable with each other since the Halloween... incident? What should she call a thirty minute conversation about wizarding naming conventions?
Super unprofessional, probably.
Now that she was completely free - except for her elaborate schemes to completely ruin Josh Chan’s life - Nathaniel was more overt about his interest.
Obviously he still needed to get her out of his system.
Which was completely fine with her, because she was in desperate need of some no strings loving. Just because she was busy making her ex-fiance’s life a living hell, didn’t mean that she couldn’t get off.
A warm body was more to her tastes than something running on batteries, at least at this moment.
She don’t need no man.
Nathaniel was just super convenient, which was why she just rang his doorbell on a Sunday afternoon.
It was the time he was most likely to be home alone - not with a random other girl. She wasn’t asking for a threesome here.
“Rebecca?”’ he seemed startled when he opened the door.
Nathaniel Plimpton, not in a suit for once. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt, just pants that were either pajama pants or for another one of his work-outs. He did seem to be a little bit sweaty.
She was really trying to focus on the fact that he knows her name now, but he was also kind of ridiculously fine without a shirt.
“Going to bed?” she was prepared for the occasion. “Mind if I Slytherin?”
He groaned and let her walk right into his apartment.
“Why does that work for me?” he asked himself.
“Because you’re not a Muggle,” she kicked the door closed with her foot after kicking off her heels.
In the heat of the moment, she might even have forgotten about her epic plans for revenge for just a second.
But by the time she did her Walk of No Shame that evening, she was back in planning mode. Of course she was.
#4
Nathaniel started being nicer to her after she slept with him.
She could ignore it for a little while, but it didn’t last very long - it was just so boring. If she wanted to be around someone who was nice to her she would just sleep with Trent again. It wasn’t like he hadn’t offered - so many times.
But she figured that Nathaniel would just go back to normal after he got her out of his system. She got him out of her system.
Mostly, anyway. She wouldn’t be opposed to a repeat, but she was not exactly writing Mrs. Rebecca Plimpton in her journals either. Or Plimpton-Bunch. Hyphenating just sounded super classy.
Wow, the random places her mind took her - maybe she should try talking to Dr. Akopian about that.
After she finished with Josh Chan.
“Rebecca?” Nathaniel actually asked instead of demanding these days.
People were noticing - he was being nicer to everyone in the office, and she was just not sure if it was genuine. This was Nathaniel Plimpton, he didn’t have a nice bone in his body.
Okay well, he did have one particularly nice, large...
Maybe they could just bone again, and he would go back to being an asshole and she would be able to focus on her plans without getting distracted by her libido again.
But him being nice... It stopped doing anything for her after the wedding that didn’t happen.
“Take off your clothes,” she told him.
“I must have drunk some Felix Felicis,” he muttered, teasing smile on his face. “Because I’m about to get lucky.”
Really, why was it that every single time he made a stupid reference she got more than a little gooey?
Not something she wanted to think about, so she pulled him along by his loosened tie.
#5
Fortunately, Nathaniel seemed to figure out that his temporary lapse into kindness didn’t do a damn thing for her.
By the next time they slept together, he was back to being himself - rude comments at work when she had to take the stairs and got winded after half a floor, bossing everyone around because he was the boss of them, the whole deal.
She almost forgot that Nathaniel being himself also included him being a giant freaking nerd.
Office Secret Santa was a Darryl thing, and Nathaniel was forced to continue the tradition because of something he’d promised his work partner during his nice streak.
Of course Nathaniel “randomly” picked her name from the metaphorical hat - judging from the gorgeous Time Turner necklace she wore around her neck all the time now.
“For when you’re late to work” the note had said.
Because even when he gave her a totally charming gift, he still had to be a dick and remind her that she was late to work too often.
The real N. Plimpton was back!
Sure, he was somehow still interested in sleeping with her, but that she did not mind so much.
It was nice to have occasional moments of pillow talk about how the damn Time Travel play had been better when Team Starkid did it, and to hear him humming the Mysterious Ticking Noise in his shower.
She was only slightly crazy into him, and he didn’t get overly nice so she’d sleep with him, not anymore. Sleeping together became a routine that she didn’t want to change.
And why would they, really? They were both single, attractive, intelligent people with a love for the magical world created by JK Rowling. She’d slept with worse - a lot worse.
She still got the goosebumps sometimes - especially when they were all alone in the office after hours and... well, letters to Penthouse had nothing on that.
There was some role play - the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Restricted Section Hook-up was her favorite, while Nathaniel favored more Quidditch related scenarios. That was probably related to all the phallic objects and the opportunities for some truly awful jokes.
Somehow, he was still hot even when he cracked jokes about polishing his broom.
“What the devil is going on here?” It was like he knew that she’d been thinking about him.
“Your Snape voice is actually getting better,” she tried really hard not to sound too surprised about that. “The Malfoy impression is still better, though.”
He just had the snootiness down pat. And she’d been really into Draco Malfoy back in the day - and a little bit still.
“You just like seeing me rolling around on the floor,” Nathaniel smirked.
She shrugged - rolling around on the floor with him was pretty good, yes.
“Are you ready to go?” he had his suitcase with him. “I promised to prove I don’t need Accio to make you come.”
Her stuff was easily gathered, and she rushed off so eagerly that she forgot to even look at the clock.
It was 4:43 PM on a Friday. He was wearing his Slytherin tie, she wore her Ravenclaw blue with pride.
All was well.
#my stories#rebecca x nathaniel#shipnames could be bunchton or nabecca or something like that#nothing great's jumping out at me yet#not as great as Nathaniel's yuck#I bet he has a big yuck#yes I like tagging weird stuff okay#crazy ex girlfriend
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Town by town, local journalism is dying in plain sight
WAYNESVILLE, Mo. — Five minutes late, Darrell Todd Maurina sweeps into a meeting room and plugs in his laptop computer. He places a Wi-Fi hotspot on the table and turns on a digital recorder. The earplug in his left ear is attached to a police scanner in his pants pocket.
He wears a tie; Maurina insists upon professionalism.
He is the press — in its entirety.
Maurina, who posts his work to Facebook, is the only person who has come to the Pulaski County courthouse to tell residents what their commissioners are up to, the only one who will report on their deliberations — specifically, their discussions about how to satisfy the Federal Emergency Management Agency so it will pay to repair a road inundated during a 2013 flood.
Last September, Waynesville became a statistic. With the shutdown of its newspaper, the Daily Guide, this town of 5,200 people in central Missouri’s Ozark hills joined more than 1,400 other cities and towns across the U.S. to lose a newspaper over the past 15 years, according to an Associated Press analysis of data compiled by the University of North Carolina.
Blame revenue siphoned by online competition, cost-cutting ownership, a death spiral in quality, sheer disinterest among readers or reasons peculiar to given locales for that development. While national outlets worry about a president who calls the press an enemy of the people, many Americans no longer have someone watching the city council for them, chronicling the soccer exploits of their children or reporting on the kindly neighbour who died of cancer.
Local journalism is dying in plain sight.
——
A rock outcropping painted by a local tattoo artist to resemble a frog greets visitors who follow the old Route 66 into Waynesville. Along with its sister city St. Robert, the military towns are dominated by the nearby Fort Leonard Wood, which has kept the county’s population steadily around 50,000 for the past decade.
Five of Waynesville’s eight city council members are former military, and Mayor Luge Hardman says the meetings run efficiently as a result.
“This is a small town where you can be from somewhere else and not feel like an outsider,” said Kevin Hillman, Pulaski County prosecuting attorney.
The Daily Guide, which traces to 1962, was a family owned paper into the 1980s before it was sold to a series of corporate owners that culminated with GateHouse Media Inc., the nation’s largest newspaper company. Five of the 10 largest media companies are owned by hedge funds or other investors with several unrelated holdings, and GateHouse is among them.
GateHouse and another company, Digital First Media, follow a strategy of aggressive cost-cutting without making significant investments in newsrooms, said Penelope Muse Abernathy, a University of North Carolina professor who studies news industry trends. But all newspaper owners face a brutal reality that calls into question whether it’s an economically sustainable model anymore unless, like the Jeff Bezos-owned Washington Post, the boss is the world’s richest man.
That’s especially true in smaller communities.
“They’re getting eaten away at every level,” said Ken Doctor, a news industry analyst at Harvard’s Nieman Lab.
Newspaper circulation in the U.S. has declined every year for three decades, while advertising revenue has nosedived since 2006, according to the Pew Research Center. Staffing at newspapers large and small has followed that grim trendline: Pew says the number of reporters, editors, photographers and other newsroom employees in the industry fell by 45 per cent nationwide between 2004 and 2017.
In the mid-1990s, when former Daily Guide publisher Tim Berrier was replaced, the newspaper had a news editor, sports editor, photographer and two reporters on staff. Along with traditional community news, the Daily Guide covered the Army’s decision to move its chemical warfare training facility to Fort Leonard Wood in the 1990s, and a flood that swept a mother and son to their deaths in 2013.
As recently as 2010, the Daily Guide had four full-time news people, along with a page designer and three ad salespeople.
But people left and weren’t replaced. Last spring, the Daily Guide was cut from five to three days a week. In June, the last newsroom staffer, editor Natalie Sanders, quit — she was burned out, she said. She made a bet with the only other full-time employee, ad sales person Tiffany Baker, over when the newspaper would close. Sanders said three years; Baker said one.
The last edition was published three months later, on Sept. 7.
“It felt like an old friend died,” Sanders said. “I sat and I cried, I really did. Because being the editor of the Daily Guide was all I wanted for a really long time.”
The death of the Daily Guide raises questions not easily answered, the same ones asked at newspapers big and small across the country.
Did GateHouse stop investing because people were less interested in reading the paper? Berrier said about 3,600 copies of the Daily Guide were printed in the mid-1990s. At the end, GateHouse was printing 675 copies a day.
Or did people lose interest because the lack of investment made it a less satisfying read?
“As the paper declined and got smaller and smaller, I felt that there wasn’t as much information that really made it worthwhile, so I did eventually stop” subscribing, said Keith Carnahan, senior pastor at Maranatha Baptist Church in St. Robert.
Berrier blames GateHouse, who he said “set the Daily Guide up to fail.” Others are less sure. Sanders, the former editor, and Joel Goodridge, another former publisher, blame both GateHouse and the community for not supporting the paper.
Goodridge said some businesses found they could advertise much more cheaply in free circulars dumped at local stores. He now works at a college in the nearby town of Rolla. His job at the Daily Guide was eliminated during the relentless downturn.
“When I first got into the newspaper business, it was intriguing, rewarding and I felt like I was doing something more than generating profits,” Goodridge said. “I felt like I was doing something for the community. As the years went by, it changed.”
GateHouse said the Daily Guide, like many smaller newspapers across the country, was hurt by a dwindling advertising market among national retailers. The paper supplemented its income through outside printing jobs, but those dried up, too, said Bernie Szachara, president of U.S. newspaper operations for GateHouse.
Given an unforgiving marketplace, there’s no guarantee additional investment in the paper would have paid off, he said. Szachara said the decision was made to include some news about Waynesville in a weekly advertising circular distributed around Pulaski County.
“We were trying not to create a ghost town,” he said.
——
Residents of Waynesville are coming to grips with what is missing in their lives.
“Losing a newspaper,” said Keith Pritchard, 63, chairman of the board at the Security Bank of Pulaski County and a lifelong resident, “is like losing the heartbeat of a town.”
Pritchard has scrapbooks of news clippings about his three daughters; Katie was a basketball player of some renown at Drury University. He wonders: How will young families collect such memories?
The local state representative, Steve Lynch, would routinely cut out a story about people recognized in the paper, add a personal note, laminate it and send it to them — a savvy goodwill exercise.
Historians worry about what is lost to future generations. Many of the displays in a small museum of local history in St. Robert are stories retrieved from newspapers.
Residents talk with dismay about church picnics or school plays they might have attended but only learn of through Facebook postings after the fact.
“I miss the newspaper, the chance to sit down over a cup of coffee and a bagel or a doughnut … and find out what’s going on in the community,” said Bill Slabaugh, a retiree. Now he talks to friends and “candidly, for the most part, I’m ignorant.”
Slabaugh acknowledges some complicity in the Daily Guide’s demise. He said he angrily stopped buying the paper when it wrote about a drag show at a local community centre.
Beyond the emotions are practical concerns about the loss of an information source. The bank routinely checked the Daily Guide’s obituaries to protect against fraud; Pritchard said you’d be surprised by family members who try to clean out the accounts of a recently-deceased relative.
At a time when journalists and police are often at odds, it’s somewhat startling to hear local law enforcement unanimously express dismay at the loss of a newspaper.
Like many communities, Waynesville is struggling with a drug problem. The nearby interstate is an easy supply line for opioids and meth, police say. The four murders in Waynesville last year were the most in memory, and all were drug-related.
For painful, personal reasons, Pulaski County Sheriff Jimmy Bench wishes the Daily Guide was there to report on the December death of his 31-year-old son, Ryan, due to a heroin overdose. It would have been better than dealing with whispers and Twitter.
“Social media is so cruel sometimes,” Bench said.
Without a newspaper’s reporting, Police Chief Dan Cordova said many in the community are unaware of the extent of the problem. Useful information, like a spate of robberies in one section of town, goes unreported. Social media is a resource, but Cordova is concerned about not reaching everyone.
Local authorities still write news releases and, in the final days of the Daily Guide, the overworked staff often printed them verbatim — even giving front-page bylines to the marketing director for the Waynesville School District.
“I thought it was great,” said Waynesville School Superintendent Brian Henry, later adding: “Nobody’s really stepped in and filled exactly what we had with our newspaper.”
Posting press releases to official Facebook pages isn’t quite the same. County coroner Nick Pappas said readers are more suspicious of news releases than they would be of a fully reported news story.
“I’m not going to put out anything critical of myself out there,” said Hillman, the prosecuting attorney who just started his third term in the elective office. “I mean, that’s the truth. What politician is?”
——
This isn’t a hopeless story.
Dotted across the country are exceptions to the brutal new rule, newspapers that are surviving with creative business plans. In North Carolina’s Moore County, owners support the 100-year-old Pilot with revenue raised by side businesses — lifestyle magazines, electronic newsletters, telephone directories, a video production company and a bookstore.
Philanthropy is supporting other efforts to fill gaps created by journalism’s business struggles. Report for America, which sees itself as a Peace Corps for journalists, has sent young reporters into communities in Mississippi, Texas and elsewhere. It has relationships with newsrooms across the country, including The Associated Press. The American Journalism Project is raising money to fund local news, and recently announced $42 million in pledges.
What this effort means for Waynesville, and many small towns like it, remains to be seen.
It briefly had an alternative after the Daily Guide folded. A local businessman, Louie Keen, bankrolled a newspaper, the Uranus Examiner, that was delivered for free. The paper had some journalistic spunk, revealing that the Waynesville mayor had blocked some residents from seeing her postings on the city’s Facebook site. Mayor Hardman said it was inadvertent and quickly corrected.
The paper lasted five issues. Named for the tourist complex Keen owns, he said the Uranus Examiner was shunned by local advertisers because he used to own a strip club and uses sophomoric jokes to promote his businesses.
So Waynesville and St. Robert are left with Darrell Todd Maurina’s Facebook site, which he calls the Pulaski County Daily News.
A former Army civilian public affairs officer who worked at the Daily Guide in the 2000s, Maurina posts live from community meetings, reports on accidents on the nearby interstate and publishes obituaries. It’s meat-and-potatoes local news.
When he’s not at meetings, he works from a windowless office in the basement of his home. Court documents and papers are piled on the floor and coffee table near a police radio scanner, fax machine and television. On his desk are a well-worn Bible, small American flag and a signed photograph of President Gerald Ford thanking Maurina’s father for his support.
Maurina typically is awake before 5 a.m. to check the local radio station, if the scanner hasn’t roused him earlier.
“I really believe that as large newspaper chains cut staff of small newspapers, and small newspapers wither and die, that’s going to cause major problems in communities,” he said. “Somebody needs to pick up the slack and, at least in this community, I’m able to do that.”
Maurina’s efforts have some support, even from the city councilman who said he once threatened to throw Maurina out a window over a disagreement about a story.
“He’s an equal opportunity agitator,” said Ed Conley, another council member. “He tries to be fair, and to be honest about it, he does a good job, but he’s just one person and he’s limited by social media.”
Maurina declines to share many details about the finances for his online site. He also acknowledges some holes in his coverage, especially of sports.
For local athletics, some people turn instead to a Facebook site run by Allen Hilliard, a former Daily Guide stringer and school bus driver who has been posting photos, videos and newsletters about local youth and high school teams. Hilliard isn’t making much money from his time-consuming hobby, but like Maurina, he takes pride in providing a community service.
“If I quit doing it, then essentially there would be no (sports) coverage of anyone,” he said.
Maurina says he knows journalists need to go back to the basics to survive –or revive — in small-town America.
“We need to go back to what was done in the late 1800s — being everywhere at every event, telling everyone what the sirens were about last night,” he said.
Good idea. Who’s going to pay for it?
——
Associated Press Business writer Alexandra Olson in New York and video journalist Peter Banda, from Waynesville, contributed to this report.
——
Follow Dave Bauder at https://twitter.com/dbauder and David A. Lieb at https://twitter.com/DavidALieb
Moving for Sunshine Week, held annually to highlight journalism’s role in fighting for government transparency.
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double chapters for the self-indulgent Law thing, 4+5, each exceeding 2k words a bit
it’s on AO3 already btw (as well as ffn) (apart from the latter chapter which will be tumblr-exclusive till mornig aka for about 10 hours, but honestly, don’t fuck your eyes over with my theme otherwise)
It takes about ten minutes of convincing, but she finally gets him to take off the ridiculous looking piece of clothing. On his way out, he shoves a long sword into her hands.
“Woah...! What's this for?” is her surprised reaction. She's also vaguely excited, because... swords.
“Kikoku. I don't leave base without it.” He states as a matter of fact.
“... alright. I'll just assume you have no problem handling it at the moment.“ she mumbles, throwing it... no, not around her neck, the weapon doesn't fit the corridor, unless she crab walks her way back outside... over her shoulder it is.
He stops up at the entrance for one too many seconds. She decides not to push her luck and just wait it out. It takes long enough for some crew members nearby noticing the holdup, though. Uni and... Clione, was his name? She waves at them. They mimic the gesture and disappear behind the corner, but not before giving a thumbs-up... She sighs. There's a wee little feeling they may not have been informed as of yet. Either that, or they are ignoring the situation altogether. Oh bother.
“... this still feels really weird.” he groans eventually, hand hovering over the doorhandle.
She tries to come up with something to calm-slash-convince him: “No person whatsoever will even recognize you outside, okay...? Worst case scenario, we run into an acquaintance of mine and say hello. And, well... count your blessings? I have short ones, too. Albeit I'd never wear those without leggings, so... fair enough.” With a groan, she acknowledges that this incoherent rambling is not getting them anywhere. “Anyway, look...” she says, stepping closer. “the sooner we're over this, the faster it ends, okay? Think of the pants, Law. The pants... they are only five minutes away from you.”
All he can muster is a sigh. The last section is more ridiculous and worse than anything else before it... but somehow, also better. “You are not one for pep talk.”
“... can't argue with that.” Kat admits. “I'm generally bad with words... and make things worse.” What else could she do in this situation, though? Shove him outside herself? Actually, no... that's rude. “Alright, I'll ignore the realization that this body is probably strong enough to just drag you anywhere I want to and offer plan C instead: we talk about the stuff you want to say anyway while we are out walking. Should be distraction enough, no?”
He turns around halfway- what she first said was slightly unnerving while absolutely true. The second part, though, is as good of an idea as it can get. “See, that's more of a plan.”
“Oh, nice,” she says, almost puzzled that it worked. Uncertainty returns a second later, however. “Is it enough to get going, though?”
He turns back to the door and puts a hand on the handle. For a moment, he muses over how lucky he is that noone came through during all of this. Before opening it, he takes another quick look back, to which Kat reacts with a vaguely encouraging thumbs-up. If only he could be as nonchalant about this whole thing as her... oh well.
Having gotten outside and off the vessel, they start walking into town and Law adjusts his hat which has trouble staying put. She can't help but smile: “By the way, that looks incredibly silly on me.”
“... so?” he retorts, not even hiding that he's offended.
She puts her hands up in surprise. “Hey, hey, sorry... I see it's a sentimental value thing, never mind.”
“It's not...” The answer comes a little too fast, he finds. Anyway, “I'm just used to having it where it belongs. Like my nodachi.”
“I know, I also can't stay calm if I don't have my pens at hand at all times... I'll take good care of the baby, don't worry,” she says patting her bag and the blade with a smile, totally ignoring the look being given. She's got a prickly, sweet pear here by the looks of things. That's a pleasant surprise, great relief, and overall good news. “Well then... how will we kick this private introductory seminar on devil fruits off, Professor Trafalgar?” She asks turning back to him.
Even though it's intended as a joke, the tone and... whole sentence sound unexpectedly specific. It's when the last two words sink in when Law stumbles on the cobblestones, though. “Wha'?”
“... careful.” she blinks at him. “And I asked about your improvised syllabus.”
Wait a sec here. “... I know it's none of my business and has little to do with the question, but... am I right to assume that you've had tertiary education?” He asks with an incredulous voice entering halfway through. Her vocabulary made him guess that she was from a well-off family, but that's not necessarily the case all of a sudden. For a small, but specific reason, he just never even considered it.
“I prefer to call it “the 1.5 years of my life I'd rather delete from memory without a trace,” but yes, I was at college,” comes the straight answer with a nod. She stares direction crossroads.
It just doesn't want to add up to him. Unless she's some genius, graduation does not come earlier than the age of 17; this was followed by up to two more years related to school, and now she's an established member of a town she's admittedly not from... it doesn't seem to make sense, because... “Sorry, but... you look like someone who just graduated.”
“Heheh, mom's genes,” she flashes a faint smile. “I'm 24... she also looked younger than her age until she hit about 40, even though she was always stressed from whatever she focused on. Time will eventually catch up with me. Also, no offense taken.”
Law takes a note of the fact that she hasn't looked anywhere else but the road ahead since the topic surfaced. Usually she would turn in the general direction of the person she's talking to, occasionally glimpsing into their eye, but this was just way too passive. He knows he hit some sensitive issues and decides to better leave it be. Either way, here he was thinking she's not older than 20... well, at least he's hopefully got a more mature student at hand than anticipated.
They take a right at a post with some signs on it, the one facing them and pointing towards said direction saying “Sheoo”. It's the main street- save for some horses, a mother and her two children, an elderly couple sitting under a tree, and another group of kids on bikes playing in the distance, there's noone outside.
“That's a Sunday morning for you... on a holiday, nonetheless.” She flips the sword around her neck as first intended and takes a smug look back at him. “And you threw a fit.”
He grunts and shrugs. Local holidays are one thing, and one doesn't really keep up with the days of the week on sea, either... unless they are a religious bunch, he supposes. At the same time he knew yesterday was a Saturday, so he has no right to complain. The people being inside is one blessing he's willing to count, though.
“Alright, let's just start and go over the basics,” he says donning the temporal professor position as they walk down the road, and goes through a list of abilities he gained in the period he's had his fruit. He's into it enough that she has to grab his collar by the time they pass the right corner.
“Turning... anyway, since I've already interrupted you, here's what I've gathered... if I get things working I can theoretically A: levitate things around me and have them switch places; B: cut stuff into pieces without causing any harm to the target; and C: zap the shit out of anything. All of these within a certain area I would need to define myself. Oh, and the target can be something abstract, as you've already illustrated. Is that it?”
“You didn't have to point the last thing out, but yes, that's it.” he replies after going through her abbreviated list. She picked up everything that was important, good- however... “Refer from doing that, would you.” he adds, swatting her hand from the dress. The only ones who can give him unwanted attention are his crew. And, uh, Luffy, because he can't really get rid of him anyway. And Carrot, who is as touchy as Bepo... and maybe Chopper. Maybe. Goddamn fluffy critters and their soft, warm fur.
“... depends on the reach, but it sure sounds broken as hell to me, not gonna lie.” Especially if she compares things to the basic ability of 'can stretch really far'. Then again, this here also can be summed up as 'electricity aided transport' which is basically trams that are faster and better than those in the capitol Wenna two islands over, so whatever. She slows down and digs into her tote bag, listening for the key jingles.
“It's a big favorite for a reason, especially with the big shots.”
She raises an eyebrow and turns towards him at their stop, still fiddling inside the bag. “Okay, provided you are not shitting me... no, actually, while it's very useful, it really is not that interesting of a power. I'd love it for taking out the trash and securing a big, hot plate of soup with no risk of it splashing it about, but... what good would this do to a fat cat? They already have servants, if not straight-out slaves doing these things for their useless asses...” She grabs hold of a bunch of cold, clinking fishes in the sometimes seemingly bottomless sea on her side. “Honestly, I'm at a loss. Why the fuck would it be popular with anyone else but people interested in the body and healing?”
The way her logic splashes around towards the rant's conclusion amuses him quite a bit. Dare he...? Why not. “It's because there's this other thing you can do with it called 'Perpetual Youth Surgery'.”
“Sounds fancy enough... perpetual youth...” She's going through her one too many keys. A lot of them are antiques or haven't been used in years by the looks of it. “So basically whoever gets it stays young... forever. As in, forever forever?” she asks, looking back up, squinting in disbelief.
“Yeah.” The immediate exasperation on her face is amazing. She stops fidgeting with the keys, holding one that's likely the one she was looking for and turns to him.
“Let me get this straight... some idiots want to become immortal... and... and you sure as hell get these assholes chasing after you just because of this, too... right?”
He nods. Now, for the last stroke... “Doing it just once would also kill me, for the record.”
Her poker face cracks barely, and her control over her breath is also good... but from under the hat he can see the brows furrow just a bit more than usual, and hear the keys creak under her fingers, likely scraping off years worth of filth each other, revealing their true colors; most importantly, however, her eyes reflect the full scope of sheer indignation she feels after running through it all in her head again... she cannot find the words. After a minute she remembers he's also there, and lifts a finger asking for another moment to calm down. Then ready, set, go...
“I may not be the popular vote, but I'd rather receive a bullet to the head right now than become immortal. What kind of troglodyte thinks watching friends and family die all the time is a fun activity... then becoming too old to get new technology, too?” A short break with a quick, deep breath. “Some think it's hot stuff, but immortality is the most useless superpower ever.” The emphasizing hand swing at the end makes Law think she's going to throw the key cluster against the wall. Having let some of the steam out, she sniffs and adds a thought that squeezed itself among the others at the highest of her rage, one she cannot ignore: “Unless it's some self-entitled sick fuck with too much free time. Those only care about themselves anyway...” She inhales once more, to let out the rest of the stress. “Let's get inside... I think I'll pop that cider at last.” With that, she turns around to open the little gate leading up tho the narrow, two story row home she lives in.
He just nods. The conversation gave him a certain peace of mind- his body is in good, albeit untrained hands. She has no idea, nor will have any, because it won't show- but she just scored up to three cookie points in his book.
“Here you go, this... is my pants pile.” she states after raiding three different shelves across the board, dumping the big heap of fabric onto the bed. They finally reached the goal, that is the first floor bedroom overlooking the street. Walking out, she points at a cabinet next to the window. “The shirts and such are there, under the books- you can handle that yourself.”
“Okay,” he grumbles; he has all the info he needs. Although there's the temptation to ask where she's going, but judging by the noises she's just down in the kitchen and not planning on leaving the house, so he leaves it be and turns towards the task at hand.
A good chunk of what's not sweatpants seem to be denim; this is as good as a jackpot right now. He decides to look into the wardrobe first, though. There are no big surprises in there.... that extra thick pile to the far right, though... could it be...? He takes the red one out on top... Why, yes, those are all, indeed, hoodies. With neutral, if not rude content at the front. Nice.
He takes out half of the pile and sets it aside, then moves onto the T-shirts and sweaters; she's not very picky. There's virtually everything in there, ranging from pastel through smart-casual to straight-up goth, or some combination of these. Some simpler ones have seen a lot of wear, others are, as far as he can tell, brand new. Once he finds himself in a staring contest with Brook on a tee, he decides it's time to stop. Something about it seems off, though... the material is near new, but the paint is already missing from a spot or two... it's not like any Soul King merch he's seen either. A knockoff, maybe? At the same time, that really is some good fabric, so it doesn't quite add up. There were a few similar ones, too, now that he thinks about it...
He's turning around to put the rest of the pile back, when he notices some tubes and cans behind the corner of the cabinet. On the thick windowsill overlooking the street there's other stuff than just some pillows as he first guessed- he can also see what looks like blank paper, pencils, and... a few pieces of canvas propped to the side, maybe? He's more interested in the colorful bottles, though. He picks up the nearest one- blue fabric paint. Mystery solved, he guesses.
He takes one last look at the skull, then puts the pile of clothes inside. She did seem an artsy one, that one he won't dispute- never would have guessed the forms it manifested in, though. Looking around, there's also some small paintings dotting the wall- nondescript people standing in various places. Possibly sketched from imagination, as there's not much detail in most of them. The signature on the closest one says... well, Kat. Weird of her to not use her initials instead, but whatever. All in all, not his thing, but it's pretty decent stuff.
“You done sorting yet?” he can hear from the door, followed by a clink.
He turns around- she has a bowl in her right hand and is eating what appears to be cereal. Thinking about it, he only ever saw her shoving down snacks. And that medium pizza that she spirited away between him looking that direction twice. That one still haunts him. “Please tell me you eat actual food sometimes... also, no, I've yet to go through the pants. By the way, didn't you say something about a cider earlier...?” He asks with suspicion. She better not have drunk that before going for the cereal bowl.
Kat shrugs. And swallows. “First of all, we come here mainly for that stuff and I see you never even touched it? Dude... Second: I eat all the garbage I want to... also, I changed my mind when I saw the box.” Next spoon. “I'll have to drink that soon enough, though, bottle's near-expired. Didn't want to refuse it from my boss, you know? But booze is nasty, no matter the flavoring. Especially when there's no salty treats to eat it with.” She states, putting another spoonful into her mouth, then comes to an abrupt halt upon swallowing and her eyes go wide. “Oh, right... You have something against, what'sitcalled... gluten, right? If it's an allergy you better help me right now because I stuffed down half a package of whole grain cookies a minute ago.”
The amusement over her mild panic is suppressed by the notion itself, taking him by surprise. “No, I don't... where did you even get the idea?”
“Well, for starters,” she eats another dose, since apparently everything's alright, “I've seen you guys eat three times thus far, and you specifically? I have never seen you touch a sandwich... or those nice buttered baguette slices, although they were godlike. Meanwhile you snack on virtually everything else in front of you. So I just figured you might be intolerant.” She explains in confidence, ending with another shrug and a smaller spoon of cereal. The rest will be harder to get to... time to tilt.
This description makes Law oddly... nervous. He decides against voicing that, though. “I see... well... I just don't like bread. That's all there is to it.”
She stops chewing. “Zat's... a weed shois do have an avesshon do, not honna 'ie.”
It's his turn to shrug. “I ate nothing else for weeks straight at one time and got fed up. Most people have that, usually with an old favorite, no? I just cannot get it down my throat ever since.”
“Ah, yes... I'm like that with raisins.” she says. “Once I ate almost two whole packages... but by the end the little plant parts and stray seeds disgusted me. I couldn't eat them afterwards, picking them out of every cake and whatever else- lately I'm okay with the big, golden ones, though.” Nom. “Things I have no reason to dislike are green beans and licorice, though. One for the hairy texture, other for the taste. Oh, and I also won't eat peppers unless they are raw. They taste really weird when cooked. Or roasted... or anything.”
By the time she gets to the end of her self-indulgent monologue, he's already digging into the glorious pants pile. She takes a look at what he's picked so far, and... is mildly confused.
“Umm... you really wanna pack stuff for the next two months, or...?”
“...” Looking again, he has to admit that it really is a lot of clothes. Act natural... “Well, we cannot possibly know how long this whole ordeal will take, can we?”
“... fair enough. We can just come back, though. And wash.”
Okay, he's been had. “... touché. If you want to, just put the ones you definitely don't want to lose back to the others.”
She hums. As he resumes sorting through stuff, she remembers a certain piece from right over there, though. Shoving some clutter to the side, she makes some space for the rest of her cereal on the desk next to her and digs into the bottom of the pants pile, looking for something dark. Law seems to have found something noteworthy, too.
“Lace?” he raises an eyebrow. He's both baffled that jeans like this one exist, and slightly alarmed at the thought of 'it looks rather nice'.
“Oh, found that one? I already forgot about it... was a second hand bargain, brand new and a perfect fit... but it's not my style and such, so haven't worn it at all. Might as well keep it forever. Anyway,” she grunts, dragging out something,” here, this is the most 'you' piece I've got.” He's offered another pair of dark blue jeans with decorative black threads; she then steps over to the shirts and whatnot to cut the load. Law finds that the piece given to him also saw little wear thus far. He flips it open to take a better look, and notices... some additional yellow rhinestones around the pockets and knees...
He blinks. It's easy enough to guess what kind of stuff he's perfectly fine wearing, but combined with the previous gluten remark... it's getting worrying, to say the least. “... you are a rather scary woman, you know that?” he asks, still fixated on the garment and taking a mental note to just maybe mix up his wardrobe a little bit. Maybe not start a lace collection, but, you know.
She shrugs. “You know how the saying about the silent ones goes.” she jokes. Yes, he does, is part of the club, and that's what makes him antsy over here. “On a more serious note... if there's one thing I have going for me, then it's that I'm a good observer. So I'll take that as a compliment.”
“That's still a lot of details for us having met on Tuesday.” And he usually notices when being watched, not to mention the short timeframe- Kat is scary, goddammit. He's grateful to all the people with observation skills like these doing mundane things like taking care of the image of some shop instead of... tell it as it is, spy work and assassination. Speaking of observation, though... there's no guarantee, but he'll have to probe whether she has haki. If so, she's totally unaware.
“If it makes you sleep easier, you are not alone. I noticed odd habits all across the alliance board, with few exceptions.” She says, then realizes that this must have had the total opposite effect than intended. Some of the things she did notice would definitely fly a red flag if the person knew, too. “Okay,” she turns towards him, getting a look. “I know what you are thinking, and you are right: what I just said sounds way creepier. Let's just... pack these things and forget this conversation ever happened.”
He agrees with a hum, symbolically zipping his mouth. Grabs one more pair of pants to throw on the greenlit bundle a second later, though. For good measure.
The whole reaction appears silly to her... it does ease her anxiety somewhat, though. He can be cute if he wants to. “Ready?” she asks with a little smile. Her expression fades into a thoughtful one once she surveys the things they've sorted out, though. She still should have the thing that's perfect for this task. “I'll need to get the one big bag from the Dump for all this.”
He blinks. “The... Dump?”
“The door between here and the bathroom. It's a smaller place I've had no use for... so I just throw in whatever I don't need at the moment.” she explains, giving the beard a scratch again. “It's... kinda messy. If I can't spot it immediately, it might take a while. But multiple medium bags will also do, we have to find either.” There's, of course, the possibility that the lesser bags are all stuffed into that tent of a thing she used for moving in, though...
'I see,' is what he wants to say, but something's making noise at the entrance- it's the pile of junk she propped up for the bowl, except it wasn't a stable construction, and now... it's all sliding back to reclaim its rightful place on the desk, pushing the porcelain to the side by the second, until---
“Nonono---!” she squeaks, reaching towards the faraway object in vain.
Next thing she knows, though: she's holding it. Umm… correction: holding most of it. There's a small, but clean, and slightly angled cut at the top and the missing piece cracks unceremoniously on the ground. A chunk of her desk itself also falls, albeit on the bed she was reaching over- similarly to some of the victorious mess. The other part of it is burying the sad shards.
Law is about as surprised as she is- and also relieved. She... she did it. Decapitated just about everything, yes, but good enough for a start. Step one, which he was most concerned about, is done. As the shock fades, Kat's eyes light up- theory is one thing, but actually doing it... this... is goddamn cool.
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