#and there was a team of volunteers who were supposed to keep an eye for the new ones

[motsimages]

Maybe it's because I'm tired but I am at my first big international conference and a lot of people just kind of don't acknowledge you? Like they are speaking to you, suddenly someone they know comes by and they don't even make a small gesture of "there is another person here, feel included". Is this normal? I met some Spanish people the first day and they seem to be inviting but also kind of quick to introduce you to other Spanish speakers at least. But so far Spanish, French and Russian have done this and I am confused. The person who comes say hi doesn't even look at me, and the person I was speaking with doesn't introduce me, and I stand there waiting for something to happen and it doesn't happen.

Advice or comments about this are welcome. I am seriously considering being cheekier and just introduce myself.

[naburi]

YOU SAW US, DIDN’T YOU?

SANA X MINA X READER

THEME: GIRLXGIRL, WATCHER, MAKEOUT, SUBMISSIVE, TAG TEAM, BLOWJOB, EDGING, FACIAL

1.5K WORDS

It’s after class time, you went back to your school to get a book you have homework with. Chair creaking, soft inaudible sounds, coming from your classroom. You’re hesitant but curiosity led your hand to open the door. You saw “something” that you’re not supposed to see.

It’s Wednesday morning, you're sitting in your classroom still having flashbacks on what you saw yesterday. You take a glimpse of your class president, who is seated in the front row, she doesn’t seem affected by what transpired, then you take a look at Mina, who is seated in a row behind you. You look away as fast as possible as you see her looking straight at you. Sana and Mina are the most famous students on campus. Your class President, Sana, is the “Academic Darling” of the school. She’s represented the school in many school contests and won almost every time. Every girl wants to be friends with her, every girl wants to be like her, Every girl has a crush on her. While the class Vice president, Mina, is the “Campus crush,” you know Mina is near when you hear some students in awe of how beautiful she is, everyday some male student is confessing their love to her. Every male has their eyes locked onto her when she’s around. Every male wants Mina.

The week has passed and you still haven’t talked about it with anyone. You can’t even believe your eyes, you know no one will believe even if you tell them. It’s Sunday evening and you received a message from your class president, “let’s have a school meeting after class”. Your mind went blank as you didn't know what to do. It was Sana who saw you when you opened the door, and it was you who caught her on top of Mina.

It’s time for dismissal, Sana said to the whole class that the three of you volunteer to be classroom cleaners for today. No one questions it, nobody likes being cleaners. You were flabbergasted to see that the two are actually cleaning the classroom, like it became part of their daily routine. Sana instructs you to help them clean which you instantly did. Few minutes have passed, the room is clean and the three of you are seated in the front row.

“You saw us, didn’t you?” Sana said with a smirk. “How did it make you feel?” Sana adds. Mina is listening and waiting for your answer, smiling the whole time. You admit nervously that it made you feel hot, it keeps your boner up at night. It made you think hard every time you saw them in school. The two girls laugh with your honesty. Sana instructed them to sit at the teacher's seat which is in front of them. Sana and Mina take a long teasing look at you before they start to touch each other's face. Sana started to make out immediately with the pretty lips of Mina, and gave back the kiss like it’s a routine. Sana hands caressing the black hair of her in tune to their make out, slow and passionate like how her tongue moves inside of Mina’s mouth.

The thought of someone watching them turns Sana even more. She breaks up the kiss to sit on Mina’s lap and starts kissing the submissive girl again. This is the same position you caught them, Sana wants to own Mina’s body using her lips. Mina in return starts to grope the round boobs of Sana over her uniform. This turns on Sana more and she starts to pull the girls hair and start to attack Mina’s mouth using her tongue, Mina more than gives back the tongue work and starts sucking on Sana’s tongue which elicits a high pitch moan out of her. They didn’t care if someone could hear them, all they care about is how to devour one another in the name of pleasure. Mina starts to unbutton her revealing her tight round boobs, Mina immediately pinch her nipples which made her moan loud again. Sana answers back by sucking on Mina’s neck not caring if it leaves hickies. The black hair girl tried to hold her moan but her head moved back through pleasure. Mina starts to unbutton her own uniform, her one hand groping her small boobs and her other hand reaching down to her wet panties to play with her clit. Sana notices this and positions herself to sit on one of Mina’s legs and grind her clit over it. The two girls moan loudly as they reach climax.

Breathing heavily as the two girls look at you, Sana helps Mina to stand up and walk towards you. Under the teacher’s table, your cock is out masturbating it while watching over them. Sana laughs loudly with the thought that you can’t contain yourself. Sana grabs your cock and strokes it gently and says “don’t cum today and we will let you fuck one of us tomorrow.” You accept her offer without knowing what’s to come. Sana and Mina kneel down in front of you admiring your cock for a few seconds before they put their tongue in the head of your shaft. The two tongues slurping your head is too much to handle, it looks like they are still making out but with your cock in between them. Sana laughs when she hears you growl from too much pleasure. Sana gives Mina a look, and they start to slide their tongues up and down your shafts. Sana moves fast and erotic while Mina slowly slides her tongue through all of your cock like it’s trying to memorize every part of it. Sana stares at you with lustful intention while Mina looks like she wants you to remember how great her tongue is. Sana moves down to your balls giving it a few licks before putting it inside her mouth feeling her warm mouth, Mina follows along, having both of your balls in each of these Campus celebrities makes you feel like you’re in Heaven. Sana likes the reaction she saw from you at start to give you a rim job to add more pleasure. You moan as loud as them when Mina moves back in your head and starts to put your head in your mouth. Mina’s tight mouth is trying to push through till she reaches the end of your shaft. Sana noticed this held Mina’s hair to guide the other. Sana slowly pushes and pulls Mina’s head in your cock like it’s made to be used like this. Sana looks at you smirking while Mina’s eyes swell due to how deep your cock is in her mouth. Sana doesn’t need to push her head as she’s the one who's deepthroating your cock hungrily, she sucks your cock like she wants you to remember her mouth, she sucks you like you want her mouth to mold perfectly around your cock. Sana and you watch with amusement how your length disappears and reappears inside Mina’s mouth. Your shaft is getting wetter and Saliva starts pouring out of the girl's mouth the more she deepthroats you. Sana takes this as a que and guides Mina’s head to her lips to have a wet and sloppy make out session with her. Both girls kiss like they are addicted to one another. Mina pulled back from the kiss as she needed to take a breather.

It’s Sana’s turn to take your cock. Her mischievous smile made you nervous. You barely survive Mina, and you're about to get devoured by Sana herself. Sana touches your wet cock stroking it while her tongue slowly licking your head, she know it’s already sensitive after those deepthroats and she wants to torture you with pleasure. She wants to see how long you can hold it. Sana keeps up the pace of her stroking while she bobs her head swallowing the tip of your shaft. Her hand grip paired with her fast head movement made your cock twitch. Sana notices this like a shark smelling blood. She starts to weave her head along with her hand to take all of your cock. You tried to keep your moan but Sana still doing her tongue work while sucking your cock might be the end of you. Her pace keeps up which makes you moan for a long period due to how fast she’s making you get into your climax. Mina knows what’s about to happen, she starts sucking and licking your shaft while sana is focused on sucking your head, she tries to suck it like she wants you to drain your balls. Your cock twitches once more and Mina moves to suck your balls to give Sana the space to take all of your cock. She moves her head faster than Mina, she can take it better than Mina. You can’t hold it any longer, you tell them you're about to cum and the two position themselves to take all of your cum to their faces. You shoot loads of cum that also spurts in their hair and their uniform. Their two faces share the hot load of your cum.

Later that night you received a message from your class president “we will give you another chance tomorrow after class.”

[swap-tech-enterprise]

Public Relations Internship Part A, Customer Swap Stories #2

My name is Michael and I am currently a junior public relations major at Penn State.

When the university announced they partnered with Swap Tech Enterprise (STE) and launched the “Semester in Their Shoes” program, I knew that I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. I would spend the semester in the body of a recent graduate working full time in the public relations field letting me see the day to day life of someone who works in public relations looked like. While participating in the program, the work assigned to you would equate to some of the classes I should be taking but can’t while part of the program, so not only was I gaining real world experience in the field, but I also wouldn’t be missing any credits and would still get to graduate on time. As for the person I would be swapping with, they would get to spend a couple of months living my life and having a break for all the work they had to do. 

Once applications for the program opened I immediately applied in hopes to spend my spring semester working in Public Relations. After months of waiting to hear back, I finally received the email informing me that I was accepted and matched with someone for the swap. I was so excited I could barely contain my excitement in the days leading up to the swap. Finally, the day arrived and I headed down to the STE Swap Bank as instructed. I informed them that I was participating in the program through my school and they quickly gave me a run down of who I would be swapping with other information that I would need to know before the swap. After receiving all the information, the Swap Technician took me to the swap room and began prepping me for the swap. As they counted down, I was so excited that I didn’t even realize I lost consciousness once the Swap Tech’s countdown hit 0. As I opened my eyes, I noticed I was in a different room and knew the swap had worked. However, as I stood up from the bed, something was wrong. Looking down at my hands I noticed they were showing signs of aging, which shouldn’t be the case since I was supposed to be swapping with a recent graduate. I brought my hands to my chest and noticed that I was showing signs of aging as well as my body looked like it hadn’t stepped foot in a gym in years. I quickly ran to the mirror and was shocked by the face looking back at me. It wasn’t the face of a 24 year old recent graduate but that of what I could assume was a 50-55 year old man. 

Turns out that Chris, the manager of the public relations team I was joining couldn’t secure any volunteers for the swap, so he elected to step up instead. I started demanding that they swap me back now, but per the terms of the contract I signed when applying for the program, it stated that if no recent grad volunteers could be available, the head of the team could step up in their place. Upset with the circumstances, I reluctantly got dressed and headed to Chris’s apartment in Midtown, as I was now going to be living at his place in New York until the end of the spring semester in May.  I quickly took a picture and sent it to my parents, as they wanted to be updated once I was settled in.

To say my parents were shocked was an understatement, but they also knew the terms I agreed too when applying for the program and told to stick it out as May would come soon enough and I could get back to my body. They also told me they’d keep a close eye on Chris in my body to make sure he didn’t do anything I would regret after the swap so that calmed my nerves a bit. Figuring I had nothing better to do, I prepped for my first day on the job tomorrow. What should be an exciting time in my life has now been ruined and all I can do now is finish what I signed up for. God, May can’t come quick enough! 

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 2

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I had some down time while my flight was delayed so here’s another chapter! Hopefully chapter 3 will come out in a few days but we shall see. Thanks for all the love on the first chapter!

Content warnings - flashback to prostitution assault and detailed descriptions of killing/death

You weren’t always known as a feral victor. Sure, some of your kills in the arena were a bit much, but it’s not uncommon to see that behavior in the games. It is a fight to the death after all. What is uncommon, however, is that literal fight continuing afterwards.

After the incident with the first doctor, which was kept quiet from the public at first, Snow believed you would still be of use from him. He thought the capital doctors could “fix you” and make you “civilized” again. He’s lucky he always had guards with him, or he would have ended up on your list.

Finnick, your mentor, thought that your post-arena violence might save you from his fate in the capital. He tried to convince Snow that it wasn’t a good idea to assign you clients, that you were unpredictable and things could go very wrong. Snow thought it would be fine.

“Sure she may put up a fight,” he told Finnick, “most of them do. But, I don’t think that should be an issue for her client. He could break her quite easily if he needed to.”

And break you he did, just not physically. It was you who did the physical breaking.

You didn’t mean to kill him, nor anyone else outside the arena, but his grotesque hands roaming your body triggered something deep inside you; a primal instinct you first felt in the arena. It was kill or be killed.

You tried to push through it. Snow had warned you what would happen to your family if you didn’t comply. But laying there being completely violated by this capital man broke the only pieces of you that had survived the arena. Your mind had convinced itself that you were out of options.

The man’s avox had phoned the police when she heard him scream, but they weren’t fast enough. He was so engrossed in his actions that he didn’t notice the way your eyes turned cold, or the way you stopped protesting.

Less than two minutes later, he was dead. You still can’t shake the feeling of his eyeballs under your nails, or the sound he made as you crushed his esophagus. The worst part was having to unattach yourself from him when the ordeal was over. You didn’t even protest when the police entered. They sedated you and carried you off, away from the scene of your crime.

Did you mean to kill him? No.

Do you regret it? Absolutely not.

The only thing you regret is coming out of that arena alive; but what’s done is done and there’s no going back.

Your prep team won’t go anywhere near you for the parade, which is quite the dilemma. How the hell were you supposed to get ready? You’re surprised a stylist designed something for you at all, or that they’re even letting you participate for that matter.

Apparently, your stylist didn’t design the outfit. He said that his mentor, Tigress, wanted to design something for you specifically but she is banned from the games so he volunteered to bring her design to you. He’s the first person in the capital who doesn’t seem terrified to be in your presence, but the peacekeepers still won’t let him near.

You’re forced to dress in front of the peacekeepers. They uncuff you at least but it’s still uncomfortable. You would strangle them all right now but unfortunately there would be consequences.

Snow paid you a visit last night. He told you exactly what would happen if you went “feral” before the games.

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Odair’s pedestal to malfunction while he was standing on it, would we?” he stated. “Or for Mrs. Flanagan to come down with a horrible illness. That would be quite unfortunate.”

You had to do everything possible to keep yourself under control, but even that could only help so much. The rage you felt inside was growing and it wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Why isn’t it ready yet?” the shrill voice of Linessa calls to the peacekeepers outside of your room.

“No prep team would touch her,” they tell her. “The tribute is getting herself dressed.”

“Move,” Finnick states as he pushes past the group to enter your room. You’re mostly clothed but are having issues with zipping up the back of your gown.

It’s a beautiful blue gown that hugs your skin before flaring out just below your hips. The stylist explained it as, “The image of a silent siren. A deeply misunderstood mythological creature of the ocean.”

Finnick slowly approaches, making sure you can see his hands.

“Can I help get you ready?” he asks. “We need to be out there soon.”

You nod and turn so he can zip up your dress. The feeling of his hands on your back causes you to tense up but you grit your teeth and remind yourself it’s just Finnick.

Practically grinding your teeth dull, you let Finnick do a simple makeup look on you to match your outfit. You wish you could give him an outfit instead of a net but neither you nor Mags have a say in the matter. You especially don’t.

Finnick is especially careful not to touch the scar that runs down the side of your face. You got it during your games and the capital doctors refused to polish it off after you killed one with a scalpel for taking your temperature. You wish you had the temperament to let him cover it up with the makeup but you know it would set you off.

When he’s done, the peacekeepers come and recuff your wrists but leave your feet free so you don’t trip in the dress.

“She doesn’t need those,” Finnick tells them.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair but these are direct orders from Snow,” they state.

“Will you remove them before the parade?” he asks.

“No,” they state. Mags whispers something to Finnick and he nods in understanding before approaching you slowly.

“Hey,” he calmly states. “I need to go talk to some people before the parade. Stay with Mags and I’ll come get you before we start.” You nod and he leaves.

The peacekeepers force you and Mags out to where the chariots are, but make you stay along the edge of the stables where they can keep an eye on you. They wouldn’t want any of the “excitement” to start before the games begin.

You can see Finnick talking to Katniss, last year’s victor. You don’t really know any of the other victors besides Finnick and Mags. They know all about you, of course, but none of them care enough to get to know you. The only one who has ever spoken to you (over the phone of course) is Johanna Mason of District 7. She’s pretty close with Finnick and they talk all the time. You would be jealous if Finnick didn’t practically live at your place and spend all his time with you. Plus Johanna hates people.

“Hey feisty!” you hear Johanna call as she approaches you. Finnick has shown you pictures of her but outside of that and watching her games you had only ever heard her voice. The peacekeepers move to block her but one glare from her sends them away. “How’s life outside of your cell?”

You give her a thumbs down and she laughs in response, catching the attention of the other tributes.

“Well I give it double thumbs down,” she states.

“Johanna!” you hear a male yell. ���Get your ass over here.”

“Ugh Blight’s calling,” Johanna groans. “See ya later feisty!”

You think you’re done socializing for today when you’re approached by a young blond boy. He doesn’t protest when the peacekeepers keep him five feet away.

“Hi y/n,” he states. “I’m Peeta. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

You give him a blank stare as you study him. Something about you feels like he’s harmless, but you can’t be too sure.

“Ah Melark,” Gloss booms as he approaches the boy. “Don’t take it personal. Feral doesn’t talk.”

It’s clear these two haven’t met before as Peeta looks a bit scared of the career. You’d met Gloss once before your games as he was your allies’ mentor, but you haven’t spoken in years. Him and Finnick aren’t close.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry,” Peeta stutters. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick flirting with Katniss. “Uh nice to meet you I guess.”

Peeta looks harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Katniss, on the other hand, looks like trouble.

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[sh4wty18]

Hello I LOVE YOUR WORK AND EVERYTHING<33333

I was wondering if you could do like hockey player! Chris sturniolo x figure skater!reader i don't care what about just PLZZ

girl of your dreams - chapter one.

one. | two.

pairing: hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader

summary: you find out you're going to have to share your rink with chris's hockey team during your final college figure skating season.

cw: rivals to lovers, angst, first person POV, language

word count: 1.4k + edited

tags: @kokes73 @joeshiestyslover @chrissbluehat @h3arts4harry (if you want to be tagged, comment!)

dividers from @plutism

---

Y/n’s POV

“So, as you all know, you’ve been called here for an emergency team meeting. You’re probably not expecting to see the other team here too,” Coach Beck chuckles, but her smile doesn’t meet her eyes. 

The entire University Figure Skating team is gathered in our rink for a supposed “emergency meeting”. I knew something was up as soon as I sat down on the bleachers and saw the University Ice Hockey team already waiting for us. Coach Beck is our figure skating coach, and she’s great. Beck is kind, smart, funny, and strict, but she makes practices fun. She’s so encouraging during our competitions against other universities, that even if we don’t win, she’s still proud of us. Not to make it seem like I don’t win. Of course, I win every competition I’m in. Figure skating is my passion, it always has been. I wanted to go pro after I graduate, but I doubt that will happen. That’s why I work my ass off to get straight As and put hundreds of hospital volunteer hours in each semester– I’m pre-med. If I can’t become a famous skater, I might as well get a job in a field I’m good at. 

Next to Coach Beck stands Coach Carter. He is the University Ice Hockey team’s coach. From what I’ve seen, he’s way more serious and scary than Beck. In the few times the men have had to use our rink for practice, he’s always screaming. He crosses his arms and glares down his nose at each and every one of us.

“Well, Coach Carter and I wanted to let both teams know that the Men’s Ice Hockey rink is being rented out to the local community this semester for K-12 hockey lessons and practices. That being said…”

“You’re going to be sharing the rink this season,” Coach Carter finishes.

A few of my teammates gasp, and I hear some of the men on the ice hockey side of the bleachers groan. I raise my hand patiently, waiting for Beck to see me.

“Yes, Y/n,” she points at me.

“Yes, hi. Um, so how will we be doing this? Because I know I’m not the only person thinking it, but the men need the entire rink to practice scoring and stuff, right? So where will we be?”

“Always worrying about yourself, huh, Y/n/LN?” I snap my head around and shoot Chris a deadly glare, which only makes him laugh under his breath. 

Chris Sturniolo. He’s been my biggest rival since we were freshmen, and both brand new to college level athletics. Now he’s the king of the hockey team and the president of the Alpha Delta Phi chapter at our university. Everyone on campus knows him, either for being the guy who led the hockey team to victory in the U.S. Collegiate Championship three years in a row, or the guy who throws the best parties out of all the frats and sororities at our school combined. Everyone loves him, but not me. I know him as the guy who’s had it out for me since day one. He’s pre-med too. I don’t know how, to be quite honest. He’s a chronic lecture-skipper, and has shown up to Saturday practices hungover so many times it’s hard to keep track. Not that I’m keeping tabs on him, he makes it known. He’s always bragging about how great his parties are and how wasted he got. He’s been trying to get me to come to one of his parties since sophomore year, when I let it slip that I’d never been drunk. We’ve had so many classes together since freshman year, and we’re always on opposite ends of class debates. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose, just to piss me off. Despite all his bad behavior outside the classroom, he still manages to maintain a decent GPA, he has to. It’s a requirement to be involved in athletics. All athletes must maintain a GPA of 3.5 or higher to participate in their sport. That’s another reason he makes me angry, he barely tries, and still manages to get good grades, and the professors like him. He’s so charming and smooth-talking he can win over even the strictest of professors. It’s infuriating. 

But the most infuriating thing about him is how attractive he is. He has shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. His limbs are long and slender, yet toned. But not too buff. And he’s tall, well, taller than me. He has good style and he’s confident, which makes him even hotter. It’s so hard to hate him when he constantly looks like that. I mean, I guess I don’t hate him. He’s just my rival, and I don’t like that– having a rival, I mean. I like to be the best all the time. In academics, in my sport, even in my hobbies (thankfully, I don’t think Chris has an interest in crocheting, so we won’t be rivals in that field any time soon). Chris likes to be the best too, and that’s why we don’t get along.

Now, our senior season is just about to start. Chris and I are both captains of our respective sports teams, we’re both captains in the Model UN (often leading to some very heated debates that leave the other club members silent), and we’re in the same senior seminar for our Biology major. On top of all that, we’re now expected to share a rink? I call bullshit.

Coach Carter speaks up before Coach Beck can respond to my question, “We’re just going to divide the rink in half and practice in a smaller space. We’re trying to be as fair as possible here. We’re also going to get the full rink on Saturday mornings, and the figure skating team will no longer have Saturday practice.” 

“What?!” I shout, “How is that fair?! Coach Beck, we need Saturday!” This earns another smartass laugh from Chris and I scowl at him again.

“Clearly she agreed to it, Y/n. I’m sure you can book extra individual hours after we’re done practicing. We all know you love to work overtime,” Chris says with an eye roll, and a few of his teammates snicker. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, and Chris just shrugs in my direction with a grin. God, he is insufferable.

“Okayyy,” Coach Beck says in an attempt to diffuse the obvious tension between me and Chris, “Y/n, unfortunately, this is just the way it has to be.”

“But it’s not fair. This is a lot of our senior seasons. I’m sure all of us seniors want this season to be our best.” 

“We can miss out on Saturday practice this year, and share the rink, and still have the best season of your four years,” Coach Beck says. She’s trying to be encouraging, but I can tell she’s a little pissed off too.

“Life isn’t fair sweetheart,” Coach Carter adds. I blush in embarrassment and lower my gaze. 

–

Later that night, after our first shared practice, I’m collecting my things to make the trek back to my apartment when I see Chris approaching next to me. 

He taps me on the shoulder and I turn to face him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi?”

“I just came to see how you were feeling. You know, now that we’re gonna see each other multiple times a day, almost every day. Class, Model UN, and now sharing the rink with me? You must be thrilled!” He quips, and I just want to wipe that smug grin off his face.

“Yup. I’m ecstatic!” I say, rolling my eyes. “Just more time to show everyone how easily I can wipe the floor with you.” 

“Wipe the floor with me?” he asks, “How will you be able to do that here? We’re on different teams. Maybe seeing me in action will finally show you that I’m just as talented as you are.”

I stay quiet, not really knowing how to respond. He’s right, but there’s no way in hell I’m about to admit it to him. It doesn’t matter that I don’t say anything though, because he sees right through me. He always has.

“Aw, Y/n,” he smiles, “Life isn’t fair, remember?” He slowly backs up, giving me a two-finger salute before walking away. When I turn back around, I’m alone in the rink.

---

chapter one in the books. i lowkey love it ngl. i can't wait to write more. let me know what you think!

[techramonic]

What are some facts or tidbits about Daniel that you don't think is very well-known?

Hey! Thanks for the great question. I have a few things not a lot of people have talked about Daniel, all of which are information taken from his father's book: "Walking in Daniel's Shoes".

Facts about Daniel Mauser

1. Daniel's name came from the Biblical character Daniel and his mother Linda's fondness of Elton John's song titled with the same name. Conner was Linda's maiden name and since she was an only child, it was a way for them to carry her family's last name.

2. In sixth grade, he struggled somewhat with depression. After his mother sent him to a therapist, it was revealed that he was feeling stressed because at the time, he had pneumonia and missed school a few times. He felt that his teacher was pressuring him to catch up. Fortunately, he recovered after a few months.

3. Daniel used to be in cub scouts and boy scouts for a few years. Once school had became more hectic and he was more engaged in piano lessons, he dropped out of the scouts. He had earned basic badges but was not too enthusiastic with scouting long-term.

4. On July 24, 1999, Boy Scout 359 installed a park bench in Daniel’s memory along the South Rim Trail at Roxborough State Park, ten miles south of Columbine. Daniel was once a member of the Boy Scout Troop that preceded 359. Roxborough was the Mauser family’s favorite hiking area.

5. He played chess and won second place in a Denver metro tournament as a member of the school's chest club team. He also won two National Science Olympiad awards, presented to the top ten scorers in general science knowledge.

6. He was an occasional babysitter and was great with kids.

7. He was a Junior Volunteer at Swedish Hospital for two summers and helped in the pharmacy and he expressed interest in working in a medical or medical research field.

8. Despite winning often in games like Super Mario Brothers and even Foosball, his dad had caught on he was getting bored of playing with him, but despite that, he still played whenever he was invited because that was how much he loved his father.

9. He had a keen interest in current events and social issues and was a frequent reader of Time Magazine and viewer of 60 Minutes.

10. His father said he sometimes worried about little things, like if the gas tank in the car was getting too low.

11. He played soccer for a couple of years when he was younger, tried skiing, and played baseball on a YMCA team.

12. Before his death, Daniel's Biology teacher told his mother that he would be receiving an award for outstanding sophomore biology student. It was a supposed secret, one which Daniel never found out.

13. His family was very close. Tom described them as a "Dinner Table Family", who always ate dinner together. According to his father's words, "there was no sneaking off to watch the TV or play on the computer. We are together, talked together, and exchanged stories."

14. Daniel and his sister were close despite their contrasting personalities. Daniel was more like his mother—shy, introspective, intelligent, and calm. His sister Christine was like her father—outgoing, witty, a bit wild and crazy. He would often roll his eyes at her and in an exasperated tone, he would exclaim, "Theater people! Oh, my God!"

15. He had a dry sense of humor and his mom thought he prided himself on being a rational sort of fellow who was not given to drama of any sort.

16. Tom, Daniel's father, grew out of poverty. He came from Finelyville, a small town south of Pittsburgh. His father was a coal miner, his mother was a housewife, and he was the youngest out of four siblings. Tom rarely had pictures of himself. However, he didn't want that to happen with his children, so he would frequently take their pictures and film them to keep memories.

17. Daniel didn't like his pictures being taken when he was a teen. His father would still insist to take pictures for keepsake.

18. When he was fifteen and a half, Daniel was qualified to receive his driver's permit but he said he wasn't ready yet.

19. His nickname in debate class, according to Devon Adams, was "Moose": "So appropriate —it's a large, amusing but quick and fierce when-it-needs-to-be animal."

20. Daniel volunteered to rake the leaves off the lawn of a neighborhood senior citizen's house after he recently had a heartattack.

[frozenwolftemplar]

Somehow, the Carmen Sandiego brainrot has taken hold even though I haven't watched an episode in months (no idea how that happened). So, how's about some headcanons? (feel free to play with any or all if they strike your fancy)

-- Carmen's room in headquarters has two wall clocks, one set to San Diego time and one to Ontario because

-- Player has a veritable army of cousins. Carmen never got a straight number because just when she thinks she's got them down, he'll offhandedly mention someone having a baby or something; quite honestly, he can't keep track either.

-- Carmen is nearly hopeless with numbers. Time zones, exchange rates, converting to imperial units when she's in the U.S., she never got the hang of any of it and has learned to just consult Player.

-- "Okay, that guy at the front desk said I'm ten miles from the Grand Canyon. How many-" "Sixteen, Red. Keep an eye out, it's easy to miss." "Very funny."

-- It drove the Faculty absolutely nuts that their 'golden opportunity' is math-stupid; they chalked it up to something she got from her mother's side.

-- It's not. Dexter Wolfe was just *that* good at hiding his dyscalculia.

-- The one math-y thing she can do is card counting, a key component of being an incorrigible cheat at board/card games. Because she will cheat at anything and everything.

-- Seriously, one time Zach and Ivy found an old Candyland game (just lying around the warehouse, don't ask) and Carmen, who had never seen the game in her life, positively trounced them.

-- They just *know* she has to be cheating but can't prove it.

-- Ivy, bewildered, to Carmen's cat-that-got-the-canary face: "How does someone cheat at Candyland?!?" She's just that good.

-- Whenever Shadowsan plays her in cards, it takes all of two minutes for the game to devolve from 'whatever they were supposed to be playing' to 'who's better at sleight of hand.' Not that he condones cheating, mind, but if Carmen's going to, well, he's not just going to let her get away with that.

-- Carmen as a kid was a very picky eater (her adventurous spirit not extending to the culinary world); the Faculty was as helpful as you'd expect.

-- "Dammit, Saira, I told you to quit trying to feed her that rice!" "Well I need someone to taste test-" (absolutely no sense of taste on Saira; lab accident, we don't talk about it) "-and you certainly haven't volunteered. Besides, this newest formula is fortified with three essential vitamins and minerals (at least, I think they're essential), which is more than those sweets you keep plying her with." "At least she eats those!"

-- Ivy and Zach are high school dropouts, figuring they could get ahead better with racing than with academics. As part of joining ACME they get their GED's (since they require *at least* a high school diploma) and the whole team (plus Chase and Julia) help out and are so proud when they pass.

-- The first thing Carmen always does in the morning, something that doesn't change post-series, is call Player. It's also the last thing she does before turning in at night. She can't imagine being any other way, and neither can he. (crud, they're just the bestest friends, I love them so much)

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Nick Torres: I Told You Not To 

My first NCIS attempt. I just started watching season 14 and I LOVE Nick Torres. This is set before he joins the team. Let me know how I did in catching Nick’s character. I’m still learning his personality.  

You didn’t know it was possible to be this on edge while simultaneously feeling so fatigued. The fatigue was soul-deep and not something that would be fixed with even the best night's sleep. You felt completely wrung out. It made the hypervigilance that you couldn’t turn off much more unsettling. You have been running for almost two months now. There was the constant fear of being found and killed, or worse. You didn’t have the skill set to be on the run. You didn’t know how to dodge and redirect the dangerous people trying to find you. You didn’t know how to shoot a gun or protect yourself. You were a humanitarian. You came to Argentina to volunteer at an orphanage that doubled as a battered women's shelter.  

You were well aware that you did not have the skill set necessary to protect yourself in the situation and it had never occurred to you that you might need to. Helping people without using the correct channels had never come back to bite you in the ass this hard though. Granted it had always been in America where you had the home advantage. When the woman had come and asked you for help escaping her abusive husband with her young son in tow, how were you supposed to know that everyone else had turned her away in fear of the repercussions of a powerful man. A man who ran an underground child sex trafficking ring. 

The only thing that stood between you and him was an undercover NCIS agent, Nick Torres. He had saved you after his cover had been blown and had been dragging you around since. The man was paranoid, or so you had thought in the beginning, and on constant vigilance. He was sure of a mole in NCIS and didn’t trust anyone. It left the two of you in this constant state of motion. At first, the ordeal had been frightening, a constant rush of adrenaline. It had now turned into a constant uncomfortable prickle of anxiety and suspicion of everyone and everything. It was chronic mental exhaustion. If it made you feel as bad as you did, you could only wonder how bad it was for Nick.  

He was the one who could keep you both alive. You had watched his strange humor which had the desired effect of lightening the mood in difficult and often uncomfortable situations turn into a stoic silence for the last week, maybe two. You weren’t sleeping much but it was nothing compared to him.  

You had scoffed when he told you “I don’t sleep” but had soon found it near close to the truth. He barely slept over the last two months, the last few weeks being the worst. When he did drift off it was light and fitful. Every noise or movement woke him, and it would only be after a complete recheck of the area that he would try to sleep again if he chose to even try. Most of the time he would shake himself more awake and persist wherever he was leading you to next. 

Nick was a handsome man, but he looked rough, sitting next to you on the commercial bus. His body language read exhaustion as did the dark circles underneath his eyes. They showed prominent even over his dark skin which was starting to take a more yellow jaundice undertone. Not that you were judging. You were sure that you looked like a hot mess express. You had been living in Nick’s oversized clothes and showers weren’t a frequent thing. Your hair had been in a braid for almost a week because you couldn’t stand how greasy it had gotten. Most of it was covered by Nick’s plain black baseball hat that he had forced on your head, bill pulled down low to cover most of your face. He liked you as hidden as possible saying you looked out a ghost in the land of the living. A pale white girl who couldn’t hold a conversation in Spanish in a sea of fast-speaking Latinos. It was rude but you couldn’t disagree. 

The bus had just taken off, and Nick was slumped in his seat when a chill went up your spine. You had the eerie feeling of being watched. You knew the drill, no quick movements, you had to make checking your surroundings look natural, causal.  

It was easy to spot him the man. He was a few seats behind you and openly staring. It seems too blatant to be one of the men that you have been running from, but your body tenses and you feel the blood start to pump faster through your veins. “Nick,” Your voice is low and tense. It catches his attention, and you can feel him become more alert and sit up straighter next to you. “Do you see that guy a few seats behind us? He is watching us.” Nick did a much more casual job of surveying the surroundings and when he was done, he chuckled before relaxing back into his seat. You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. 

“He isn’t watching us,” Nick stated flatly. You give a scoff of disbelief and go to object. You may be getting paranoid, but you can still tell when someone is staring. Nick cuts you off before you can get a handful of words out. “He isn’t watching us. He is watching you.” It takes a moment for the words to process. A soft oh falls from your lips when it finally clicks. 

Nick leans into your space, his hand coming up to cup the side of your neck. You exhale in surprise, but the touch is light and not unwelcome. It floods your body with a tingling warmth. “Is he still looking?” You search Nick’s face before looking back at the man. His attention had broken off you and he was now slumped against the wall staring out the window.  

“No,” His fingers brushed your cheek lightly catching a strand of hair that had come loose and securing it behind your ear.  

“Yeah, most people get uncomfortable with public displays of affection. Just like most men will respect another man when they realize that the girl they are trying to flirt with is taken.” He gives you a long look before glancing down at your chest and whispering, “I told you not to wear that.” He dropped back into his seat.  

You made a face at him, you two had gotten into a small argument at the station where you had refused to wear one of his long-sleeved shirts. It was hot and the bus was a hotbox. You had been sweating for days and washing up in the skin hadn’t tackled the problem. You just wanted to be comfortable for your trip. You had snagged a white wife beater out of his bag to put on instead. It was tight in the chest, but it felt much lighter and cooler. Nick had wisely said nothing when you came out in it. 

His comment made you look down at the shirt. I was tight and clinging to you like a second skin but the top where it was pulled tightly across your breast you saw the problem. You had been sporting a bright red bra when you left, and it was the only one you had. Because your boobs were so large there was no way of forgoing it. The flimsy white shirt that had been great for the purpose of keeping you cool did nothing to hide your bra’s florescent color nor the outline of its lace. Your cheeks flushed bright in embarrassment. You were a hot mess and gave quite the show. 

The two of you rode in silence for a while. Nick's eyes were open just a sliver as he tried to keep himself awake. It was a losing battle. He would start to doze, and his head would slide to the side waking him back up. “We have three hours until the next stop, right?” 

“You have to go to the bathroom already?” You glare at him. He had made a point to complain about your need to use the bathroom more frequently than him. “Yeah, about that.” He agreed. You nod in decision and turn to put your back against the corner where your seat meets the wall, your knees turned more toward the center aisle. 

“You should get some sleep,” He looks ready to object, “You’ve already checked everyone out on the bus, and I’ll wake you up before we hit our next stop or if anything weird happens.” He still looks hesitant, but his brown eyes have a heavy exhaustion cut deep into their depths. You pat your lap urging him to rest his head. “You’ll sleep better if you lay down.”  

“I’ll be okay,” He shimmies against his seat trying to get comfortable. The seats are hard and sleeping upright is uncomfortable in the best of circumstances. Nick is stubborn and even with everything he has done for you doesn’t want to ask for any small favors or comforts you can give him. You grab his shoulder and pull him forward to lay down, even with objections on his lips he allows you to maneuver him to lay with his shoulders and head in your lap. Nick, who had complained one too many times about you getting yourself in trouble by being too selfless chuckled lightly into your thighs as you assured him.  

“Don’t worry I’m doing it for purely selfish reasons. If you are sleep-deprived and miss something or get hurt, it will be all over for me.” You tease him, even with the truth of your words ringing in your ears. 

Nick is stiff laying in your lap for a few minutes, but it doesn’t take long for him to readjust and get comfortable enough to fall asleep. When he does, he is out cold. His body is a heavyweight against you, and he starts snoring. The physical contact felt nice. You were no stranger to his touch. Nick had been pulling, pushing, leading, and on occasion dragging you around. All of it had a purpose and none felt like real physical contact. The warmth of his body that lay on yours was soothing. You tried not to examine that feeling too thoroughly.   

Nick being relaxed enough to sleep made your own anxiety settle slightly. You still made sure to look out the window and be aware of what was going on around you, but it wasn’t as needling. You silently wondered if you two had been feeding off each other's nervous energy for too long. That paired with a lack of sleep made for a volatile combination.  

The first hour went by in a blur of Nick’s snores and passing scenery out the window. By the middle of the second hour, your ass and legs were getting numb from sitting in the same position for so long. You were trying not to fidget or shift because Nick was getting some real sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him. Another fifteen minutes in you couldn’t take it anymore. You set a hand on the middle of his back and started slowly shifting trying to move your leg. You had moved maybe an inch when you felt the slight jolt of movement from Nick. This body was tensed, you could feel the strong muscles in his back flex under your palm.  

“It’s okay, we’re still over an hour out.” You whisper to him running your hand down his spine. “I just need to sit a little different.” His half-lidded eyes meet yours as he lifts his body a few inches allowing you to pull your leg up onto the seat. You press your back more directly into the wall rotating the way you were sitting on your butt. He half moves half slides up your stomach as you slide down the wall. He ends up draped across you, his head on your stomach his torso resting in between your thighs. One of his hands smooths up your thigh and stops to rest there as he passes back out. 

Your hand still rests on his back. He has a hole in his dark shirt that you fiddle with for something to do. You notice his shirt has ridden up leaving a few inches of tan olive skin showing between it and his pants. The man’s body is all firm muscle. You would have to be blind not to notice how attractive he is, only exacerbated by his cocky attitude and smartass remarks. You try your best to stamp down that thought-examining the way he makes you feel would be a disaster. The only way you want to see him is as a protector. A man who is standing between you and those who want to hurt you. That's all it can be. The rest you know to ignore. You smooth down his shirt where it has bunched around his broad shoulders. You absently continue the motion rubbing his back. His back is a mess of tight knots and muscles. 

You spend the rest of the bus ride alternating between loosening the knots and resting your hand on his back and feeling it rise and fall as he breathes. You noticed the man who had been staring at you earlier kept taking quick glances at you. He quickly would avert his gaze if you happened to look his way at the same time.  

You see the sign for the first stop five miles out. You rub up Nick’s back, he hasn’t moved at all since he fell back asleep. You don’t want to jerk him out of his sleep like last time, so you set your hand over his on your thigh and squeeze it a few times. You whisper his name and see the flutter of his long dark eyelashes. “We are about five minutes out.” You expect him to immediately sit up and start his causal special agent surveillance mode. What you didn’t expect was him to lay there languidly.  

He rolls his neck, and shoulders, and then stretches. You heard a few loud pops, and he groaned in satisfaction. He then rolls onto his back and makes eye contact with you from where he is lying. He has his normal cocky smile back on his lips. The few hours of uninterrupted sleep had done him a lot of good. He seemed to be in much better spirits. You quirked an eyebrow at him in question. “Finalmente encontré tu fuerte (I finally found your forte). You make a fantástica pillow.” 

“I’m glad you approve.” You tease sarcastically. He doesn’t move to get up, so you rest your hand on his stomach, the other on the back of the seat. When the bus stops people make their way off. The man from earlier who had been watching you stops by your seat before he exits. He says something in Spanish. You catch none of it, but Nick does and clearly didn’t like it. His body is still relaxed against yours and his tone is teasing with an undercurrent of hard warning as he answers. The only thing you catch is- Entender amigo. Understand friend. The man glares at Nick before storming off the bus. “Do I even want to know?”  

“Sólo sabes cómo causar problemas (You just know how to cause trouble).” Nick watched as people started to file onto the bus. You sigh and are about to ask him to translate, silently cursing yourself for opting for ASL in school instead of Spanish. Nick’s gaze turns back to you and looks down at your chest which is now basically at eye level before redirecting up to your eyes. “I told you not to wear that shirt.” He repeats. “The next stop is ours. I squirreled away some of my own money there before I went under. Just in case. You can never be too careful, ya know? How does a hotel room sound for the night?” 

You moan in delight at the thought, “Sounds like a hot shower and a real bed. Heaven.” Nick chuckled before readjusting on your lap. 

“We have two more hours before our stop. You mind if I catch a little more sleep?”  

“Knock yourself out. Apparently, I’m a certified pillow.” You smooth his hair out of his face. It’s supposed to be a teasing gesture, but it ends up being a lingering touch. Soft. Comforting. Affectionate in a way that wasn’t intended. If Nick closes his eyes again and leans into the touch you ignore it. Just like the butterflies that are trying to awaken in your cold traumatized stomach. 

I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think xoxo 

[oneatlatime]

The Blind Bandit

I had honestly forgotten that the Gaang were trying to find an earthbending teacher, so the 'previously on' segment was actually useful instead of spoilery.

Nobody's face is having a good time.

Look at this sweetheart. You go ahead and treat yourself honey. You've single-handedly escorted a pair of earth-shatteringly overpowered tweens around the world for months; the least you deserve is a shopping trip.

"You kids like earthbending?" Has the same energy as "wanna buy a sun dial?" from that animated Hercules movie.

This guy is one of those strip mall karate types.

I take back everything I ever said about Zuko's season 1 haircut. This guy has a dust bunny poop on his head.

Momo's bag now.

My absolute favourite girl power: incredible violence!

The acoustics at this earth rumble place must be great. I don't see any microphones.

"That's what I paid for." Sokka is a simple creature at heart. Likes food and violence.

Something very strange about this guy's face. I think his mouth moves but his eyes don't.

So apparently earthbending gets you mad air.

Oh! I get it. This is a WWE parody. Somebody on the writing team did their homework too. Don't ask me how I know, but this is a very accurate parody.

Sokka thinks listening to big muscles is a very good idea actually.

And here's the heel. Complete with russian accent. And oddly homoerotic anthem. And cowardice when challenged! Yep, total heel.

I LOLed at the zamboni badgermoles and hockey organ.

She's like two feet tall!

I'm. in love.

I could watch little girls beat up grown men all day.

Earthbending sonar?

Omigod it predicts. She can see moves before they happen.

Well it's a good thing Bumi said to look for someone who Waited and Listened rather than Watched.

"I don't really want to fight you. I want to talk to you." Says the guy who just volunteered, in front of a full stadium, to FIGHT her. Time and place, Aang.

Get back on the ground you flighty airbender. She sees with that ground. No fair.

This is about the face I made when Aang pulled that move. Does this boy think at all? I love him, but what part of stealing her well-earned title is supposed to convince her to talk to him?

You messed up.

I love sartorially inclined Sokka. It's a tiny an innocuous little trait, but it rounds out his character so well.

I get to watch two different girls terrorise idiots this episode. I am blessed.

So I'm guessing the two idiots at the earthbending academy are doing that excercise where kung fu people stick their hands in sand (I've seen videos of it) but it really looked like they were in the 'beat back the dough' phase of making bread.

In this universe of plot-convenient clothing blindness, how do Dumb and Dumber recognise Aang as the one who beat the Blind Bandit?

I think the voice actor for the dumb kid with actual hair did a bunch of voices in season 1. The soldier who gives Aang Bato's map comes to mind.

Have I said recently how much I love Sokka and Katara?

These wrestling guys keep switching between first and third person. Too many rocks to the head.

This could be a board for a murder mystery board game. Or a map for a DND dungeon.

It's her hair. I thought the Blind Bandit had a cap type thing with a little brim for her costume, but it's just a pile of her hair? Like a beehive?

A lesson in character writing: if you want to make someone look super dumb, have them earnestly believe in the credentials and authenticity of a guy you have previously set up as a borderline con artist. Lookin at you, Blind Bandit's dad.

"Basic forms and breathing exercises only." That line is just so funny. And they're all so stupid. She snapped like half a dozen spines last night and this guy is preaching breathing exercises.

Wow! I hate her dad!

I hate him more!

Sokka going ham on some rice rather than listen to the idiots. Good priorities.

This passive aggressive fight between the girl and Aang at the dinner table is so fun.

Looking for somewhere to store your meal after you've face planted into it? Try the top of your head!

I need to get a hold of some of those magic napkins. Wiped up a whole multicourse meal in like 5 seconds.

That is indeed the appropriate reaction to this pint sized badass. Glad Aang is learning. (Also this episode needs more Appa. The last couple have been sadly bereft.)

Called it. Earthdending sonar. Or is it more like echolocation? No! Whiskers!

How does this pint sized badass - who if I am understanding correctly, is not known to exist outside the walls of her house - have more emotional intelligence than the entirety of the Gaang put together?

So much for the guards in the garden. They'd actually be useful now.

Sokka. Priorities. Although given how many times Aang has escaped custody/kidnapping he's probably ok to take a minute to fangirl over an autograph.

These idiot parents don't know their daughter at all. That chafes.

"I'm not smiling." I LOLed at that too. Perfect delivery.

Hippo man having a snack before he gets down to business. No wonder he's missing teeth.

All this blind and tiny and helpless and fragile talk is really making me hope someone smacks the crap out of the dad. What an awful thing to say, nevermind saying it where your daughter can hear.

SMACKDOWN INCOMING

This is gonna be good.

If this girl does join the Gaang the writers are going to have to nerf her in every major conflict. She's too powerful. I bet she could take on the firelord now.

And that's why you don't announce sneak attacks.

So remember how Sokka was absolutely losing his shit over the Boulder? That's me right now.

She waits. All these idiots are losing because they're getting impatient and attacking first. Which means that, to her senses, they're telegraphing their moves. That is so cool. And so is this visual.

Here's your chance Dad. Are you going to mess it up?

"I love fighting. I love being an Earthbender. And I'm really really good at it." me:

I don't have words for how much I LOVE when little girls STAND UP for THEMSELVES and THEIR INTERESTS. This would have had me HOLLERING if I'd seen it as a kid. It was a message I needed to hear too.

Wow I want to kill her parents.

OH FUCK OFF

COME ON

You made my girl cry.

Get wrecked belt stealer. I LOLed at this too.

Sokka just beaned a blind girl on the head. Not a good look. I laughed though.

Fun fact: everyone in this picture is a piece of shit.

I haven't been this steamed since Zuko's dad burned half his face off.

Final Thoughts

IT WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, this episode feels like it's movie quality. This show is usually excellent, but this feels like a cut above. I feel like I could sense the love the writers, animators, voice actors, everyone had for this episode. They had a good time making it and were enthusiastic about it. And there were lots of tiny background details in this episode too. I'm sure I missed quite a few. Oh No! I'll have to rewatch it!

New team member! That hasn't happened since Momo. Actually, no wonder the episode was so good. Introducing the first new team member in at least a season's worth of episodes is a delicate operation. I bet they were workshopping this episode since early in the first season.

And Toph! (thank you credits for how to spell that - I was really hoping it wasn't Toff). Be still my heart I love Toph. She may well take Sokka's spot as my favourite character. Strength of character, self-assurance, emotional intelligence, badassery, mastery of violence, what's not to love!!!

How did she get so emotionally intelligent and articulate if her parents have kept her caged her whole life? I don't know but I'm not complaining!

How did her parents get away with caging her for her whole life? I do know (money) and I am complaining. Very much so. And yet Toph can still find it within herself to have an honest conversation with them, including apologising for leaving said cage. I never would have had the maturity to do that in a similar situation. I would have gone the Katara explosive rage route.

A little girl who stands up for herself. Against HER PARENTS. I just. Do you know how amazing that is? Especially in a kids' show? I was ROBBED by not being able to see this show when I was Toph's age.

Does bending work like a muscle, in that you build up stamina? Because if so, then Toph is the strongest human earthbender in the world by default. If she's using it in place of seeing, then she's using it 100% of the time that she's awake, all day every day. By the time she was like 5 years old she'd probably used her bending more than the average earthbender does in their whole lifetime.

My one complaint is Toph's voice. Nothing wrong with it; this is a me thing. It fits her perfectly, but my ears do not play well with nasal voices, which hers is. I had to rewind quite a few times and resorted to subtitles by the end. Hopefully I'll get used to it like I did Zuko's.

Sokka! My soon to be demoted beloved! He shone in this episode. I love that he has fashion sense and is not afraid to show it. I'm thinking, what with how hung up he was on masculinity at the start of the show, that the water tribes have a different conception of masculinity: one that classes fashionability as a masculine or gender neutral trait. Even back in season one it didn't take much to get Sokka into the Kyoshi warrior uniform, and he's shockingly good at applying face paint symmetrically. Which I still cannot do with winged eyeliner.

Katara! Not headed for a career in diplomacy but so satisfying to watch. I would love to have a Katara in my pocket that I could unleash on people. And her and Sokka bouncing off each other this episode was great. Every one was at peak performance this episode, except Aang. Not at his brightest this episode.

Checking for typos before I post this and I realise I'd already forgotten that Toph is blind! Just like in the Northern Air Temple, this is how you do disability right: as just a part of who they are, rather than an entire personality. This show is so good.

In sum, Toph:

[notinmyvocab]

Back on my hunger games bullshit. Wrote this YEARS ago, based on Effie's small hesitation when reading the names during the reaping in the Catching Fire movie

The Capitol was supposed to be the greatest place in the world. It was safe, and no one went without anything there. Effie lived comfortably in the Capitol. She had always been good and loyal. So why was she being put through such torture?

It was the Quarter Quell and the past victors were to be reaped again; her victors and Haymitch were to be reaped again. Effie was surprised she managed to keep herself composed. Then again, it was easy to hide behind a mask of makeup and a butterfly dress.

She stared out into the crowd, meeting the eyes of the people of District 12. She recognized so many faces and didn't know any names. Only the Everdeens, Mellarks, and Haymitch were important to her.

Haymitch.

There was a fifty percent chance that he would be taken away from her. They always argued; they always bickered, she always hid behind the mask of makeup because it was easier than confessing her true feelings. There was no one who could save Katniss. But Haymitch could be saved.

Though it gave her a terrible sense of guilt, Effie was secretly wishing she would choose Haymitch's name, knowing that Peeta would volunteer for him. But she quickly pushed that thought from her mind. She, truthfully, did not want any of these victors to die. They were a team.

"As always, ladies first," the escort managed to choke out, feeling herself lose her composure a bit as she drew the only slip of paper in the bowl. "Katniss Everdeen," she read, tears blurring her vision slightly. She looked to Katniss apologetically, as if that would help anything. "And now," Effie continued, "for the men." Not boys, but men.

Effie reached into the bowl and with great trepidation she chose a random slip of paper and pulled it out. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath as she unfolded the slip. Suddenly, her heart stopped as she scanned the name before reading it out loud:

Peeta Mellark.

It was her job to read the name out loud. But Effie couldn't. Haymitch had been so traumatized by what happened to him in the arena. How could she put the person she loved through that torture again? She supposed the same argument could be made for Peeta. How could she do that to either of them?

Yet, the name would not pass her lips. She was to say Peeta's name, Haymitch would volunteer, and he would go into the arena with Katniss while Peeta remained safe.

She didn't know what possessed her, but something came over Effie and the name Peeta did not roll off her tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment; taking a deep breath and thinking: forgive me. "Haymitch Abernathy."

As expected, Peeta immediately stepped forward and said, "I volunteer as tribute."

No one could stop him. Peeta was going to enter the arena again, thinking he had taken Haymitch's place. And all Effie could think was:

Forgive me.

[the-guilty-writer]

Can I ask a garcia daughter where Derek and her have close relationship much like his and garlic, and just cute moments between them

I think this works better as headcanons so here you go!

Penelope had always wanted to do more to help children who had lost their parents as she had and she decided that becoming a foster mom would be the best thing she could do to help.

You were 10 years old and your parents had been victims on a case that the team was working.

It was a local case and you were brought in to be interviewed.

A social worker was supposed to be there to pick you up, but they were running late and the team had to spread out to different places so Garcia volunteered to watch you.

She brought you to her lair and shared all her fun fuzzy pens and figurines with you.

After a few hours the social worker finally showed up but you refused to leave Garcia's side.

"I'm actually a foster parent. I'd be happy to have her until she settles down." "Thank you. As soon as we find her a long-term placement I will let you know."

Garcia ended up being your long-term placement.

She adopted you not long after that.

Hotch gave her lots of time off so she could be home to help you adjust, but sometimes she had to bring you to work with her.

The team didn't mind one bit. they loved having you around.

Of course you liked all of them.

But it was no secret that Derek was your favorite.

He was the first person you always hugged when Garcia brought you to work.

If Garcia was busy you would sit on his lap while he went over files (telling you to close your eyes so you didn't see any crime scene photos of course).

And at the end of a long day when you were exhausted from running around the bullpen he would carry you to the car and be super careful not to wake you up.

At school some kids made fun of you for your parents being dead and only having a mom now and no dad.

When Penelope told him he was furious.

So for career day he went instead of Garcia and he pulled out all the stops- FBI kevlar vest, hand-to-hand demonstration, cool stories about catching bad guys (leaving out the not so kid friendly parts of course), etc.

And the kids stopped making fun of you because you obviously had the coolest uncle in the whole world plus he can arrest people, has handcuffs, and carries a gun.

He took you to the dad and daughter dance too.

When you get into a sport he coaches you.

As long as he isn't away on a case he would never miss a game/meet.

You always perform better when he's there beforehand to give you a peptalk.

He was halfway across the country right before championships and he knew he wasn't going to make it so he slipped away for five minutes to call you.

"I'm always with you, little baby girl. You can do this."

The photo of you holding up your champion trophy/metal sits on his desk.

Garcia is baby girl and you're little baby girl even if you get taller than her when you start to grow.

He got you guys tee shirts with your nicknames on them.

The older you got and the more you could understand things the more inside jokes you would have.

When you go on your first date Derek pulls the big scary FBI agent dad act and Garcia has to tell him to chill.

And when you have your first heartbreak he doesn't get angry and want revenge for you. He just holds you while you cry and tells you that it's going to be okay.

Penelope on the other hand absolutely makes that person's life a living hell for a few days by inconviniencing them online in anyway possible.

She may or may not have changed the passwords to all their social media accounts and signs them up for every spam email possible.

He helps move you into your dorm room/first apartment at college.

When it was time to leave he cried more than Penelope.

She had to be the driver home because he couldn't keep it together.

"my dear chocolate thunder, she's only a two hour drive away. She can visit on the weekends."

When you've been dating someone for a while and you bring them home you know Garcia will love them, but you really hope that Derek doesn't scare them off.

He doesn't.

A few years later when they want to propose they know they need his blessing too.

He cries when he walks you down the isle.

He cries during the dad daughter dance too.

"I don't care how old you get, you'll always be my little baby girl."

[ophieslibrary]

Okay so part 2 to this because I can’t stop thinking about it and also because @persephone-kore-law asked me to, and it made me happy that another person wanted me to continue onto that.

Word Count: ~1200

After the dust settled and everyone’s names were cleared, the normalcy you had craved, once again returned to your little family. You began to fall back into your routine. Brief. Go. Find your target, or sometimes take the target out. Debrief. Sometimes it took a little more than that, and sometimes one or more of you came back a little more battered and bruised than the last time. But overall? Normal. Exactly as you had hoped.

That is until the incident.

He was fine. He is fine. It was scary he could’ve died. But he didn’t.

You try to remain calm and to repeat this to yourself on the Heli, heading back to base from Urzikstan.

You had managed to secure Laswell after she had been taken on an OP in Spain. You and Captain had taken to the ground with Farrah’s troops to pursue the vehicle that held your CIA agent. Gaz and Nic were in the Heli, taking out enemy combatants from above and being ready for Exfil once Kate was secured. You volunteered to take to the ground with Price just so Kyle would still be in the Heli, to keep him off the ground, out of the direct line of fire. You thought you were doing the right thing.

Everything was fine, you were making good progress, making up a lot of ground. It was fine. and then it wasn’t. How were you supposed to know they had RPGs? You heard Nic tell out about the first one, but he managed to evade. You breathed out a sigh of relief only to gasp when a second missile took to the sky watching from the back of the truck you and Price had commandeered as the Heli was struck slightly, Nic not being able to fully evade it this time. It teetered like a log in a rushing river and then you saw the flailing blob of the Sergeant fall out from the chopper.

Nic managed to pull up just in time for Gaz to not smack into the hard earth below, getting caught a rope by some miracle. But that miracle was short lived as enemies now began firing on your vulnerable, upside down teammate.

Nic began screaming “Captain Gaz fell out!”

“Come again?”

“The Sergeant! He’s gone!”

“I’m not dead Nic! I’m hanging from a bloody rope- Pull up! Pull up!”

Nic cursed something in his native language but you didn’t need to understand it to know what he was saying. Holy shit. Gaz began swaying side to side to avoid being hit by vehicles and finally after what felt like hours of agony that truthfully lasted no longer than a minute. He cut himself down, and began the pursuit on the ground with the rest of you.

And now here you are. In a crudely patched up Heli. With your comrade, Captain, Kate, and Kyle. Kyle who could’ve died. Kyle who should’ve died. You still don’t know how he didn’t. You do, you saw what happened but your brain is having trouble catching up with your eyes. You can’t get the picture of his falling body out of your head. Every time you close your eyes, even to blink, it haunts you. His screaming, even if he had the situation under control, set every one of your nerve endings on fire.

He was fine. He is fine. It was scary he could’ve died. But he didn’t.

The heli lands and your rag tag groups heads to debrief and prepares for whatever news Laswell has on the missiles.

It isn’t until much later, days, weeks later even. That you are able to finally voice that you’ve been unable to sleep. That the guilt you feel for sending him up in that chopper has been eating you alive. You don’t admit it to Gaz of course. But to your mandated therapist. Everyone on the team has to see her. And it makes sense considering the shit you all see and walk through everyday.

“Have you told Sergeant Garrick about any of this?”

“No, no, he doesn’t need to hear about this. I’m sure he’s got his own stuff going on. Plus, he was fine. He is fine. It was scary he could’ve died. But he didn’t. So no reason to dig all this up for him again.”

“Hmm”

And you think that’s that. You told your shrink, you made it seem like you were dealing and you thought that was the end of it. Until Captain Price pulls you into his office with Gaz saying you were both mandated to a joint therapy session lasting no less than one hour.

“Do you know why you’re both here today?”

“Not a clue” Your teammate remarks.

You stay silent. You know what she wants from you. But you’re hard headed. You’re stubborn. You're a soldier who has been trained by the best of the best in the CIA. You can handle hours, weeks of torture and you would never speak. You stay silent.

“Hmm. Sergeant Garrick would you mind sharing your experience with the joint mission you had in Urzikstahn to get Kate Laswell back?”

And Kyle wastes not time telling the story from a tactical standpoint. He keeps it methodical, clinical, professional even. As if he was reciting his report of the OP.

“And can you go into detail about what you were feeling when you fell out of the helicopter?” She probes.

“I was terrified.” He whispers. Fine is the strong, sure voice from moments before. “I thought I was gonna die, I thought I had for a minute there. It messes with you thinking you're gonna die, accepting that, not dying, and then having to fight to stay alive. I can’t get it out of my head.”

You wish you could have kept the sob in. Or your tears back. But hearing Kyle admit that he was also struggling, that he was also fearful, somehow makes you feel better. Connected even. You feel bad of course that he’s struggling with this, but it validates your feelings to an extent.

You begin to tell him everything that’s been going through your head since the mission, all the sleepless nights, the guilt slowly eating you alive. After many tears, many many assurances, and a few glasses of water. Gaz and you promise to lean on each other as you both continue to work through the fears and feelings that mission brought on.

Losing a member of your family is something you never want to have to worry about again. Something you never want to have happen again. You're thankful to still have Gaz with you, and you know in time you’ll both heal together. Because that’s what family does, they help when needed and they pick each other up when they’re down. Your group may not be a conventional family, but it’s yours and that’s enough for you.

xx

Requests are: OPEN

A/N: I’m thinking about doing more in depth parts for all the boys, if you want me to lemme know and I’ll do it, if you hate this and don’t want me to, don’t tell me🙂

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hi, can I request Natasha x sick reader? Both Natasha and the reader were asked to watch Morgan while Tony and Pepper are at a company gala. Reader woke up with what they thought was a small cold, but they really start to feel unwell while they are watching Morgan. Natasha insists that the reader take it easy. Morgan wants to play doctor after she sees the reader sneezing, and Natasha ends up lovingly caring for the reader while simultaneously babysitting.

Sleepy Sickness

Pairings: Natasha x R

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: Reader comes down with a cold before her and Nat are supposed to be looking after morgan.

TW: colds, headache, children (lol), exhaustion

A/n I hope i did this idea justice :)

Not today, you couldn’t be sick today. Pepper had called at around four yesterday afternoon, their usual babysitter fell through and in a last-ditch attempt to keep from having to bring Morgan to the charity gala they had called Clint. Of course, Clint, being the most experienced with kids was an excellent choice. However, Clint was also a little shit. A little shit who had been trying to warm nat up to the idea of having children one day. Her tough past made her a little uncomfortable around most kids, Clint’s brood excluded. She often worried she may say the wrong thing or hurt them, so she hadn’t had much interaction with Morgan.

There were always the birthday parties that she attended, and Morgan called her auntie natty but Nat’s worries of doing something wrong always won out. However, Clint being Nat’s kind-of best friend had taken it upon himself to volunteer the two of you to look after Morgan. Pepper had she not been in a rush may have noticed the small abnormality, but she had been trying to sort out a small crisis for the gala, one of the catering companies had come down with some sort of bug that had been coming around and had to cancel last minute after they couldn’t find replacements for their staff.

So here you were, lying in your and Natasha’s bed with an arm over your eyes as you tried to block out the light that streamed through the cracks in the blinds. The team was out on a mission, so pepper was bringing Morgan to the compound at eleven, so they had the day to get ready. Nat was already up from the looks of the sheets beside you and you figured she was most likely training per usual. The headache was new. Sure, last night you had felt a bit off but when Nat had asked you simply said you were tired. Heck you even though you were just tired. But as the first sneeze came, followed by a short, ragged cough that seemed to tear you throat apart you knew it wasn’t just a headache. You were sick. You were sick and your girlfriend and niece needed you today.

Sighing you pulled back the sheets before shuffling into the bathroom. You looked awful. Deep purple marks marred the space under your eyes and your skin lacked its usual tan pallor. Pale and sickly was todays aesthetic from the looks of the face that stared back at you in the bathroom mirror. You sighed again and splashed some water on your face to try and wake up a little more. When that didn’t work you decided to get a coffee.

Throwing on some makeup to take the dead look from your face you brushed your teeth, coughed and changed. Your head was raging with displeasure at the light of the hallways thanks to the big windows. You considered grabbing Nat’s sunglasses but when you couldn’t find them you gave up. After making your way to the kitchen and starting the coffee machine you slumped into a chair resting your warm head in your hands and closing your eyes.

Feeling hands on your shoulders you jumped eyes flying open.

“Woah there sweetheart.” Nat said turning her hands up in surrender. “Sorry love usually you can hear me coming.” She said frowning. She hovered her hands an inch from your shoulders and you nodded as she lowered them and began to massage your tense muscles.

“Jus’ a bit tired” you said slurring slightly from exhaustion.

‘Are you sure thats all your very tense darling.” She said.

“Ok maybe I’m not feelings so hot right now.” You said and turned away to muffle a painful sounding cough into the crook of your elbow. Nat rubbed your back as you stopped and pulled away to look at her, wincing as you spoke, your voice raw. “Sorry.” You said and Natasha frowned.

“Don’t apologise. Let me get you something to drink you don’t sound too good.” She said and lacking your usually snark response you simply nodded.

Nat filled a glass at the sink raising an eyebrow at the coffee sitting still under the coffee machine now steaming and ready to drink.

“Love please tell me you weren’t going to drink this you need rest not caffeine” she said.

“Need coffee, Morgan’s coming.” You mumbled and Nat tensed before relaxing and sighing. She walked back to your side and handed you the water which you drank with a grateful look.

“Honey I’m sure pepper can find someone-“

“No!” You interpreted before coughing again and nat nudged the glass towards you again as you took a small sip. “No.” you said your voice softer. “I miss the little thing and it's just a small cold.”

“Honey you can barely keep your eyes open, you need rest.”

“Please don’t make pepper find someone else she doesn’t need the stress.”

“And neither do you, my love.” Nat countered.

“Please.” You begged and nat visibly caved.

“Ok fine. But you don’t leave the couch, I don’t care how many times we end up watching frozen, you are resting today.” She said with a stern voice, and you smiled tiredly.

“Thank you, baby.” You said and pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her left hand.

“Anything for you my sweet girl.” She said and it was at that moment Jarvis announced pepper was here. You startled. What was the time, surely you hadn’t slept in that long. Nat noticed your panicked expression and was quick to reassure you.

“Love you needed the rest so i let you sleep. Don’t worry about getting dressed pepper and Morgan are family its ok.” She said.

Truthfully, she thought you looked quite precious sat in the kitchen with your Dino slippers and shark hoodie that brushed down to the back of your knees. You had small octopuses printed on the long pyjama pants which were blue and white which matched the baby blue hoodie. Your hair was in a messy bun and your makeup had not gone unnoticed by the trained spy.

“Sit tight I’ll be back in a sec.” Nat said pressing a kiss to your cheek. You nodded and turned away to sneeze. Nat shot you a sympathetic look and retreated towards the elevator to collect Morgan from the foyer.

Pepper stood tapping her heels in her worried manner as she stood with Morgan next to her, holding her little hand. Morgan was dressed in a small navy shirt with an Ironman helmet on it, sparkly pink sneakers and little black leggings. She had a red backpack over her shoulders and a glittery red skirt over the leggings. The five-year-old looked quiet cute despite having dressed herself that morning as pepper had no energy to argue.

As Nat stepped from the elevator pepper visibly relaxed. Nat walked over to them and said hello before quickly talking to pepper as Morgan tugged on her arm.

“Wheres Y/n?” Pepper asked looking past nat to find nobody there.

“Shes resting, she’s not feeling too goody. So, Morgan and I are going to have some fun today.” Nat said crouching down on her calves to address the little girl.

“Isn’t that right mo” nat said and Morgan smiled widely.

“I’ll be good for you and auntie Y/n.” Morgan said nodding and pepper smiled squeezing her hand before thanking nat and leaving.

Natasha took the young girls' hand had led her to the lift telling Jarvis to take them to the avengers' lounge which was attached to the kitchen where she left you.

Walking back in Nat saw you had called asleep headfirst on the table. She chuckled slightly and let go of Morgans hand to scoop you up. You nuzzled into her chest and stayed asleep exhaustion winning out in the end. Morgan who had watched the whole thing stood near the door was before tugging on the hem of Nat’s shirt.

“Auntie Natty.” She said whispering the way kids did when they tried to be quiet but weren’t. “Can we watch a movie while auntie Y/n sleeps?” She said and nat smiled widely.

“That’s a great idea mo. Why don’t you go pick a movie while and I’ll bring in auntie Y/n to lay on the couch with us before getting some lunch and snacks.”

“Ok!” Morgan said before taking off to complete her mission. Nat gently set you down on the couch and pilled a blanket over your sleeping form. Morgan scrolled through Netflix and nat adjusted you pillowed glancing at Morgan before quickly going to get lunch.

Nat was willing to admit she wasn’t a very good cook. You did most of the domestic stuff like cooking. Between the red room and the overall chaos of her life Nat never really got a chance to learn. You never held it against her. You loved the time you spent cooking and dancing with her in your arms in the kitchen. Listening to American Pie on the speaker.

Nat shook her head from the memory. The three of you needed lunch luckily there was something she could make.

Nat emerged from the kitchen after around fifteen minutes with three plates of peanut butter and jelly sandwiched. One for Morgan with the crusts cut off and one for you, knowing you wouldn’t be very hungry. She had one and a half on her plate having already eaten a half while making them. She also had some fruit snacks from the pantry from where tony stashed them for when Morgan came to the compound. Nat walked in and placed the food on the coffee table. Morgan, as predicted, had put on frozen and sat cross legged next to you on the couch. Nat watched as she picked up the sandwiched inspecting it before taking a bite.

Nat leaned over once Morgan settled again and she rubbed your shoulder lightly to wake you. You stirred and Nat helped you eat your food before you fell asleep again.

Around an hour later the movie ended and you were still sleeping, Nat went to queue up frozen two but the momentary lapse in the entertainment left Morgan feeling bored. She turned to look at you, swaddled in blankets. Suddenly you sneezed waking yourself up. Your tired eyes looked around.

“Natty?” You said sounding rough and groggy.

“Im here love.” Nat said, “go back to sleep.” She said and you closed your eyes and hummed quietly.

“Auntie natty?” Morgan asked whispering again.

“Yes mo?” Nat asked pressing play on the movie.

“Can we play doctors for auntie Y/n?” She asked and Nat hesitated. She didn’t want the little girl to get sick, pepper would probably never let her babysit again and as nervous as the girl made her the day had been quite enjoyable, it wasn’t often she allowed herself to relax like this. Nat settled on the next next thing.

“Ok, can you help me get her some medicine and make some tea with me?” Morgan nodded excited at the idea of helping. “Im sure it will help auntie Y/n get better soon.” Nat said and stood led Morgan to the kitchen slightly surprised as the girls slipped her small hand into Natasha’s. She didn’t pull away, instead giving it a soft squeeze and smiling at the little girl. Morgan had a pep in her step and a smile that lit a sparkle in her eyes. The girl was simply adorable.

Nat boiled the kettle as Morgan looked through the cupboards for camomile tea. Once locating it she held it out to nat in her small hands. Nat took it and blew her a kiss making the girl giggle. The noise made Natasha’s heart swell.

Once she had helped Morgan measure out the right dose of medicine and put the tea, tissues, pills, water and cough medicine on a tray, she walked behind the girl as she slowly walked into the lounge carefully balancing some of the items on the tray. Nat had taken the glass off incase she dropped it. Sipping the water so Morgan didn’t know why she took it not wanting to upset the girl with thinking she didn’t have faith in her. She simply wanted to avoid tears at all costs. That was your department. Setting the tray on the table Morgan came and gently woke you up. Stirred and Morgan watched as Natasha handed you the tissues which you used the blow your nose before discarding the tissue into the bin Morgan held out to you.

You took the pills and drank some tea, but when nat handed you the cough mixture you turned your nose up. Morgan frowned and beat Nat to it.

“Auntie Y/n you have to drink the medicine it makes the sickness go away. My daddy says its full of mini superhero’s which battle and get rid of all the bad guys making us sick.” She said and you smiled. Nat shot you a glare telling you with her look not to upset the child who had a very basic understanding of germs. You sighed and took it like a shot.

“Yay.” Morgan said and handed you back your tea. You took it gratefully and washed down the taste of the medicine. Morgan sat next to you a agin and waited for the Tv to be turned back on. Nat chuckled at your soft yet confused expression and sat herself, pulling you into her arms and turning on the movie.

The three of you curled up together as you were careful not to breathe on Morgan and make her sick. Curled up on the couch is exactly where pepper and Tony found you in the early morning when they came to pick up Morgan from the half sleepover due to the late running time of the gala.

Pepper snapped a quick picture of the three of you cuddling before tony scooped up Morgan to take home. Pepper wrote a short note letting you know they took her and let you sleep before she tucked the blanket over the two you again. You wiggled further into Natasha’s arms and pepper audibly cooed at the sight before switching off the tv and light before leaving you to rest. Hopefully the comfortable position wouldn’t leave you achier the next day.

MASTERLIST

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 48

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47 Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The morning of Elo's trial comes. Too soon, she thinks, but when has time been on her side?

From the court gallery, she's watched some of the minor trials of those who helped Brauma with his art fraud and the movement of weapons into and around the city. None of them have confessed to his end goal, so she supposes she'll never know the exact devilment he planned. But all of them so far have been guilty, and that's something to feel good about.

Now it's her turn, and the car is pulling up to the courthouse entrance. Farren twists from the front seat. "Are you ready?" "We can still pull around the side," Cobbleskater says, looking at her in the rearview, eyebrows raised. The way he's been so cautious in his driving makes Elo think he's more nervy than she is. But he's just being loyal, and she's grateful for it. Her ex-team and a handful of friends were the first to volunteer for this unhappy duty of escorting her to what feels like the gallows. She'd never admit it, but she's pathetically grateful they won't let her do this alone. "Thank you, but no. I won't have them thinking I'm a coward." She takes a deep breath, letting it out with slow control. "I'm ready." "Right-o," says Monday. He climbs out on the road side and makes a signal, as Yates is climbing out the pavement side, pushing people out of the way. Farren reaches in to beckon her out. "Remember," he says into her ear, "you keep your eyes on me, you ignore anything said by anyone that's not one of us, and you do not stop." "I understand." Then they're moving through the crowd, Monday, Yates, Hughes and Komens making a corridor. Elo keeps her eyes on Farren's back, her face empty, and tunes everyone out. There are seven steps up to the portico. Six green marble columns support the portico roof over two large oak doors, dark with age. Brass handles gleam dully with the patina of a thousand hands.

For her, they've pulled out all the stops. The doors are opened, and they're met at the darkened maw of the courts by a masked figure in a robe of claret. Farren states her name and the figure moves back, ushering in her in. Before she passes the threshold, Farren catches her arm. "I suppose it'd be too much to ask for you to stay out of trouble?" "Yeah, a little." Elo huffs out a laugh. "Brother, I'm already chest-deep and sinking in it. But you… You keep your feet dry, huh?" Anxious resignation settles on his face. He cups her face in both hands and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Know that you go in love," he says quietly. On tiptoes, Elo kisses his cheeks. She has to swallow past the tightness in her throat. "Despite all the waters ahead, I will find the bridge that brings me back to you." Farren gives a sharp nod and lets her go.

The masked figure leads her through the dark corridors, pausing to give her an opportunity to use the conveniences. Then she's led into the trial room, to the center of the floor, between twin puddles of light streaming from tall windows, high on the ancient walls.

For all they have clawed out of the dark ages and into civility, adapting and improving what is Law with each generation, for something tantamount to treason, things must be done in the traditional manner. The room is pentagonal. At its apex, towards which she faces, are three stern-looking wooden chairs on a small dias, and above them a small bell. Normally, the Magister would take center place. But today, given the nature of the offence, the Bank comes to the fore. General Strucker sits to the left, and Magister Clayrmantle to the right. Elo's eyes skate past who sits at the center, unable to look at him until bade otherwise. Behind her, without turning, she hears the Advocates enter and take up position. While she knows her defender, she will never see the face of her accuser, as is traditional. The doors slam closed behind them. The court is sealed. Another ancient rite – no one will enter or leave until the matter is settled. Any testimony will be presented in sworn affidavits and auditory recordings. For those present, there will be no rest, refreshment, or other comfort until a verdict is pronounced.

Drakemar clears his throat. "Elowyn of Toreguarde, Constable of Police Precinct Eighty-Eight and Freeman of Toreguard, you stand here today to bear witness as your fate is decided on the matter of the death of Lerrald Brauma, former Master of the Exchequer." Elo struggles to keep her confusion off her face; there is something… wrong about the man's voice. It is as light and benign as many other men's and yet she hears a rumbling beneath it, something that reminds her of old caverns and the growl of a tiger. Her gaze is fixed on the rise of the dias, so she only catches the shadow of his gesture to the Advocates. From behind her, a high, female voice says, "We, the people of Toreguard, claim the defendant is guilty of murder in the first, and move for the punishment to be hanging by the neck until dead." "Your Eminence, we, the defence, claim justifiable homicide and move for punishment to be commuted to community service," says Advocate Yevlyn. And just like that, they are off, like horses from the gate, galloping towards the post that will spell her freedom or her doom.

There are arguments and counter-arguments, and so many counters for the counters that Elo gets lost trying to follow it all. Evidence is brought forward – the book, the artefact, reports, statements and recordings. She listens to it all, numb, as they relive the case, watching the sun twist in the little pools ahead of her, sloping in from different angles as the day wears on. Tries not to feel the tremble in her legs, the pain in her lower back, the tension in her bladder as she shifts her weight again and again, determined not to crumble under the strain of this lengthy judgement.

The sun is little more than twin slivers of gold as the advocates fall silent. Everything to be said has been said. Drakemar stirs. Elo watches his feet shift and is surprised when he stands. There is an odd moment, as he steps down from the dias, where the fading daylight glints off his bluchers giving the appearance of claws. Then his burgundy suited legs enter her gaze and he clears his throat. Whatever comes will come, she thinks. "I have heard much this day," Drakemar says. "But there is one more I wish to hear speak." There's a discontented, confused murmuring from the gallery – because in a trial of this sort, only the Advocates and the Triumvirate are allowed to speak. "Detective, what say you to the arguments presented here today?" Elo finally raises her head – and promptly has to clamp her jaws shut to stop the expletive that wants to roll out of her feckless mouth. Because, just when she was about to write off all her memories of fairytale creatures as hallucinations caused by stress or grief or injury, one shows up here and now of all the places. And not just any old one, no no. This is one that, by all rights, shouldn't be able to physically fit inside the building, let alone this room. The space for his wings alone… It's strange though – none of the others have had this echo of themselves behind the physical front she's seen. If they had, maybe she could have stopped Brauma sooner… Her thoughts must show on her face because Drakemar gives a sly smile and a wink that could easily be the drooping of a tired lid. "Constable," Clayrmantle snaps, "you were asked a question." "My apologies, your Eminence," Elo says, her mouth forging ahead with little regard to her brain. "There have been a great many arguments this day. I would appreciate your exactitude as to which you'd like my comments on." There is a smattering of shocked gasps. Elo thinks that if they're going to send her to the noose, at least she's got five for five leaders insulted on her scorecard. "Of course," Drakemar says, inclining his head with an amused smile and gods dammit all, doesn't he have such long, pointy teeth… "I mean to have your opinion on the crux of the matter. Did you murder Lerrald Brauma, or was it a justified act?" "It was justified homicide. I still stand by what I said to my colleague while in hospital." "That conversation was entrapment–" Advocate Yevlyn starts. Drakemar raises a hand and the Advocate cuts off. He blinks down at her with eyes that nictate like a lizard's. "And what was it you said then?" "That I wasn't going to let Brauma become another Greydown. My job is to protect and serve the people of Toreguard. Unfortunately, in this instance, killing the suspect was the only way to do that. We still don't know why he was smuggling ordinance or what he planned to do with it, and maybe we never will. But at least this way I can rest assured he can't use it for whatever nefarious purpose he intended." "How do you know it was nefarious?" "Why would he have the ordinance if his intentions were pure? Why would he go to such lengths as killing a journalist, trying to kill me, to hide them?" "Apt questions. But not, I feel, relevant to the matter at hand."

Drakemar raises a hand, stepping past her to address the gallery, and Elo has to fight not to turn around, belatedly recalling she must not see the faces of the advocates. "So to the matter at hand, then. There is one fact that springs forth as abundantly clear. This woman, who stands accused of murdering Lerrald Brauma, your Exchequer and my Emissary, was willing to offer the ultimate sacrifice based on little more than a gut instinct to do her duty. "It pains me to say I had heard stirrings regarding Brauma's less than savoury activities and yet had not attended to them, believing I had time… Your protector has done you proud, saving you from what I fear may have been yet more wrack and ruin. This is an act which should be esteemed rather than vilified. "That being said," Drakemar completes his circle to stand before Elo, fingers steepled in a considering manner, "a life was taken, and penance must be paid." Slitted golden eyes regard her. Elo straightens her spine and raises her chin to meet them. "A year and a day of exile, as ambassador to Iceland."

Elo's shoulders sag. Her knees tremble, threatening to give way. She won't be marched to the noose. Didn't she say she would take a sabbatical after this anyway? A year is nothing. Strucker flies to his feet. "A year! Drakemar, I must protest– "Yes, I suppose you must…" "She has duties here! A life and friends–" "As I understand it she had friends in Fangthane as well." "A family who will miss her!" "Not half as much as I suspect she will miss them!" Drakemar rounds on Strucker – who, to his credit, does not back down from the fight. Even against a dragon, apparently. "This is a punishment, General. The defence requested community service, so here it is: service to the community she holds so dear – the whole of the City of Toreguard." "Not quite what I had in mind," Advocate Yevlyn mutters. Drakemar continues, "Commencing one week hence, Elowyn of Toreguarde will not be permitted to set foot on City soil for a year and a day. She will only be permitted to speak to the Triumvirate council, or whomever they assign receive her reports." Advocate Yevlyn clears his throat. Drakemar looks past Elo and inclines his head in acknowledgement. "Full and explicit terms will be outlined in writing before the week is out. She will be released under her own recognisance to appear at the Court jetty on the morning of her exile date." "Is that wise, your Eminence?" asks the Advocate for the People. He looks then at Elo, his smile as sweet as a carnivorous plant. "I think Detective O'Toreguarde can be trusted with this." She dips her head. "I accept my penance as mete and give thanks it was not harsher. I will be there." Clayrmantle rises with wearisome movements, leaning heavily on his cane. "The sentence has been issued, and the matter judged. Do we all find this trial settled?" "Aye," chorus the advocates. "Aye," Drakemar purrs, smiling like the cat that got the cream. "Aye…" Strucker says grudgingly. "Then so it is ended," Clayrmantle says, chiming the bell once.

Elo hears the court doors bang open. Drakemar and the Advocates leave amid murmurs buzzing from the gallery. She starts to turn. Her vision swims. Strucker catches her before her legs give way completely. Then she is outside, in the corridor, with Strucker passing her into Farren's waiting arms. She's given a sugar cookie and water with a salty edge. Yates and Monday keep the crowd at bay as Farren practically carries her out the side entrance to where Cobbleskater waits with the car.

[cryptidsurveys]

Sunday, December 8th, 2024.

What do you like about the house you live in? It's the house I grew up in, so it holds so many memories - some tangible, some intangible, some pleasant and magical, and some downright awful. For better or worse, this place just feels like home. It's really hard to imagine uprooting and living somewhere else. It actually makes me pretty sad to consider it. Structurally speaking, though…it could use some work. The carpets are old, there are renovations that desperately need to be done, etc. I guess the room I like the most would be my bedroom. It just feels quite safe and cozy.

What’s the most cliche song you can think of right now? Maybe certain Christmas songs because 'tis the season.

Name three of your favourite crepe toppings. I think I've only ever had lingonberry crepes - made with some sort of lingonberry jam and possibly cream cheese. As for something savory, I might go for something like ham and cheese.

Do you watch How I Met Your Mother? What did you think of the ending? I haven't.

Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? Naw. I kind of want to try it, though. Brings me back to my YOUTH and playing "Rock Wars" at the park. Not with full on rocks, but with the pebbly sand from the play area. We'd haul some sand up to the equipment platforms and break into two teams. One team would stay down below and the other would man the structure, and then we'd just…throw rocks at each other, lmao. Not a single cell phone in sight, just people living in the moment. ;D

Right now, are you too hot, too cold or just right? I'm just about right. Maybe a little too warm, but it's not uncomfortable.

What was your favourite fairy tale when you were a kid? I don't know if it counts as a fairy tale, but this children's book called Young Guinevere. The artwork was absolutely beautiful. Also, for a similar reason, while not a traditional fairy tale, a book called Dinosaur Dream. Just beautifully illustrated.

How do you feel today? Tell me about it. Fairly decent. I filled out some more paperwork for social security yesterday and I'm just thinking about what will happen if it's declined this time around. Kind of thinking it will be, but who knows. I'm not super worried because I do think I'm at a point where I could work at least part time at the animal shelter (enough to earn what I would have received in disability payments), but it's going to be such a big step. A step I need to take eventually. Just need an opening!

Also, there might be a respiratory illness making its way through cattery. I think the last time this happened in a major way was back in 2020 or early 2021. They had to close down to the public for a few weeks while it cleared up. Since I was more of a casual volunteer at that time, I wasn't allowed to go in. This time, though, I'm going to be there through it all. I'm really only worried about three of our kitties - who, unfortunately, happen to be sneezy already. One is elderly and has kidney disease (it seems to be hitting her hard), then another cat with liver disease (he seems okay, but we do have to keep an eye on him due to his weakened immune system), and a third who is also elderly and happens to be a tripod (he's in pretty good shape, all things considered, but I do worry about him), so I'm just hoping everyone will come through alright.

Oh, and my stomach is doing somewhat better today. I realized while scrolling back through some recent surveys that it's been going on longer than last Tuesday. I was already complaining about it then, saying that things had been messed up for a few days already, so…anyway. Thankful to not have a serious bubble gut, although I am still trying to be conscious of what I eat so as not to set it off again.

What’s the weather like today? It started off mostly sunny and calm. It's currently mostly cloudy, breezy, and 67*F. We're supposed to get some snow tomorrow afternoon, though! <3

Do you ever use a laptop in bed? I haven't had a laptop for several years now, but I used to do that frequently. Still do the same with my phone and listening to YouTube.

What were you doing in 2014? Uh…not much. I remember almost nothing from 2014 aside from working a few hours a week at PDI. My dad and I might have gone on a few hiking / camping trips, but even that was starting to fizzle out. Got back in contact with my sibling, but I think that lasted all of one visit before things went to shit again.

Are you wearing socks right now? What colour are they? Yeah. They're white and gray.

What time are you taking this survey? 1:45pm.

Have you ever eaten Caribbean food? No.

Do you need to make any purchases soon, big or small? Just grocery shopping and maybe purchasing a few wish list items for the kitties at the shelter.

What was the first movie you saw at the cinema? How old were you? Pretty sure my parents took me with them to see a Star Wars film when I was just a baby / toddler. Obviously, only very vague memories there. As for the first film geared toward children, I'm not sure, but maybe something like Aladdin or The Lion King.

Do you feel hopeful for the future? A mix of hopeful and hopeless. I'm just trying not to overthink it.

Where did you last fly to on a plane? To / from California for a family vacation + my dad's best friend's wedding when I was 11.

If you were going on a daytime date tomorrow, what would you wear? Lol I haven't been on a date in yeeears. I can't even imagine. But if you can't handle me in my animal shelter attire, then you don't deserve me in my birthday suit. ;D

Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? They aren't. There are a lot of reasons why.

Have you ever been evicted? Why? No.

Would you say you’re an organised person? I'm somewhere in the middle.

Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? No.

Do you eat at a table or on the couch? I mostly eat at my computer desk, occasionally at the kitchen table.

Tell me something good about the last week of your life. Idk. It's not like it's been a bad week or anything (aside from not feeling well), but nothing stands out as a bright spot… Ooh, maybe a kitty being moved from ISO into cattery. She's an absolutely adorable UNIT. Pictured above, but you can't really tell what a chonker she is.

When was the last time you heard a siren? What kind? Not sure.

Do you like jogging? No.

What brand is your TV? Panasonic.

What was the last thing you voted for? Presidential election.

Do you remember much from high school? The memories aren't as vivid as they used to be and some of the years are a bit jumbled up, but I still remember a good amount.

What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed awake? Why did you do it? Idk.

Do you live in the state/province/territory you were born in? No. I was born in Louisiana and currently live in Colorado.

What do you want to eat right now? Kind of craving cashew chicken, steamed rice, and cream cheese wontons, but idk if my stomach would tolerate it. In fact, I'm almost certain it wouldn't.

What are the five apps on your phone that you use most often? YouTube, Instagram, and GroupMe are pretty much the only apps I use.

What’s one of the most useless things you’ve ever purchased? Idk.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

ttwt episode 2

“Last time, on Total Takes World Tour: seventeen teens competed in a marathon to the finish line… on an active volcano! Three teams ran across Mexico to reach the mouth of Popocatepetl and sacrifice their respective obsidian artifacts to the fire god, but not all went smoothly. In the end, Scruffy “sacrificed” their team’s win and let the Yaois slide to victory. Who will take home the gold next time? And who will be taking the drop of shame? Find out now, on Total Takes World Tour!”

Despite its luxury accommodations, plush seats, 24/7 fine dining, and all the perks and prizes, no one in first class is sleeping this morning. 

The night prior was rough for first class. Or, rather, one person- Joner’s constant whimpers of fear every time Ass made eye contact with him, music from the aforementioned’s earbuds audible from anywhere in the cabn, Julia’s constant sleep mumbling, and the light from Mal’s- who, as it turns out, only sleeps for about two hours and forty five minutes every night- phone kept Courtney wide awake. 

---

COURTNEY: “My parents both traveled a lot for work growing up, so I’d be left at home for weeks at a time. I’m used to total silence and darkness- the woods at Wawanakwa were one thing, but this? This is torture,”

---

“Well, that was refreshing!” Ass says, removing their sleeping mask and tossing it in the garbage. Courtney watches the bin, eye bags heavy, and makes a low groaning noise. “What?” Ass asks. “They’re disposable. My dad got them in Hong Kong.”

“OMG, is that like skincare?” Mal asks from where she’s nested on the floor. “I looooove eastern Asian skincare, I import all my products straight from Tokyo. North American lines are full of chemicals.” she states, matter-of-factly.

“What are Japanese ones?” Julia asks, rolling her eyes. “Mother Nature's piss?”

“They’re organic, duh. They’re like rice and stuff. Everything’s just better in Japan,” Mal sighs dreamily. 

Ass and Julia both raise their eyebrows and Courtney passes out, slumping forward onto the ground. 

---

Economy is quiet this morning as the losing teams slumber peacefully. Only one person is up by now, tiredly watching the rest of the teens sleep in. 

Michela yawns and balances her chin in the palm of her hand while slouching forward. The cabin is quiet, and only the faint hum of the engines is audible over the snores and whistles of her sleeping castmates. 

“Light sleeper?” a tired voice asks. 

Michela shrugs. “More like early riser. You’re up, though?”

“This is about the time I get up for work,” Albert explains, slowly gesturing. “I can’t say my body feels the same, though.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, this isn’t exactly the nicest place to sleep in,” she says, kicking back and leaning against the metal walls of economy. “What do you do for work?”

“I run the Toronto Environmental Coalition,” he says. “It’s a volunteer advocacy group. We get donations to protect the environment. Prevent new land being developed, stage protests and boycotts. That sort of thing.”

“Oh, right. You did that… thing, with Chris,”

He pauses, the smile momentarily dropping off his face. “I suppose I did,”

“Hey, man, no hard feelings from me. Chris is slippery. I’ve heard he’s been in and out of jail for years,”

“Yeah, he’s been arrested a few times before. That was a part of my case file,” Albert says, looking off into the distance. “I swear I had enough evidence to keep him in jail this time. But it was… I don’t know, a cruel twist of fate,” he pauses again. “And now I’m here!”

Michela nods. “And now you’re here,”

Across economy class, Bonnie begins to wake with a long, drawn-out yawn and a stretch, and the conversation dies down. 

“GOOOOOD MORNING, PLAYERS!” Chris’ voice blares over the intercom, startling everyone else awake. “Meet me down in the galley in five!”

---

The tired campers line up around the metal picnic table bolted in the center of the room, yawning and stretching. Courtney is asleep on the cold surface, no one caring to wake her. 

“Heh, jet lag?” Chris asks, staring at the fallen soldier. “You guys look like you got hit by a bus.”

The teens grumble indistinctly, but Chris ignores them anyway. “I hope you’re all ready for some banging barbeque and technological advancements that’ll make you feel like you’re in the stone age back home- welcome to Seoul, South Korea!”

Mal squeals loudly, clapping her hands. 

---

MAL: “I love love love love LOVE eastern Asian culture. I’m actually fluent in Japanese and learning Korean, and I’ve been begging my mom to take me but she says I would “embarrass her”, whatever that means. Plus, South Korea is basically just like Japan!”

---

“I’ll be giving you the know-how on your next challenge once you hit the ground,” Chris says, smiling brightly. 

Ass crosses their arms. “That’s a weird way to put it,”

“Not really. In traditional World Tour fashion-” Chris pauses, looking around, and then sighs. “You know, I’m starting to miss that little highlighter. Anyway, in traditional World Tour fashion… Chef, care to do the honors?”

Chef grins and kicks the landing door open, sucking everyone but he and Chris out. The host grins. “Man, these lead shoes were a great investment,”

---

The teens scream as they fall to their deaths over Seoul, flying through the air as the plane becomes a distant speck in the sky above them. Between their shrieks of horror, a familiar bell rings out. 

“Really?!” Ass shouts. “Now?!”

The bell rings again as if affirming, and the cast groans. 

“You know, you’d assume we’d do an Asian themed song,” Mal says, crossing her arms. “As a master in Japanese culture, I find this highly offensive.”

“What’s your deal?” Staci asks sharply. 

The bell rings again, louder. Chris’ voice rings out. “Less talky, more singy!”

Courtney- barely awake- sighs. “We’re singing as we’re falling!”

“And totally not stalling,” Julia picks up.

Joner screeches as he falls between the two. “As we’re about to inevitably die-ie-ie!” 

“We might just end up smushed and gooey!” Patrick sings with glee. 

“Emulsified and ew-ey!” Ass shouts. 

Everyone joins in: “We should’ve done more before Chris lost his mind!”

The teens look between each other nervously and then pick up the song again. 

“Millionaire!” Julia shouts. 

“Derby champion!” Michela picks up. 

“Make it home to see Caesar!” Bonnie yelps (and then promptly rolls their eyes at everyones Aws). 

“Save the whales!” Albert goes on. 

“Marry Jungkook!” Mal screams.

“Serve my Lord and savior Jesus!” Frollo states, matter-of-factly. 

“Research psychologist!” Max says. 

“Media apologist!” Phillip continues. 

“Get my degree and my first kiss!” Staci shouts. 

“Connoisseur!” Patrick shouts back. 

“Design couture!” Kelly says merrily. 

“And I think we’d all like to outlive Chris!” Ass says. Everyone shouts in agreement. 

“But we gotta stop from splatting, the ground doesn’t have padding!” Bonnie shouts. 

“And it’s getting closer every time we close our eye-eyes!” Austin screams. 

“Flat into little pancakes!” Sha-Mod adds. 

“Our bones about to bre-ak!” Joner whimpers. 

“There are much better ways to die!” Courtney says. 

“We'd really rather fly-y!”

“So let’s hope Chris is willing to provide:”

Frollo: “A pair of wings!”

Austin: “A jetpack!”

Max: “A wormhole!”

Bonnie: “A parachute!”

Kelly: “Waterbed?”

Staci: “Trampoline!”

Julia: “Airlift!”

Ass: “Time rift!”

Joner: “Trapeze net!”

Sha-Mod: “A dragon!”

Joner: “Wait, I change to dragon, too!”

Mal: “A hot Korean guy!”

Courtney looks down at the ground below them and sighs. “A giant bowl of rice?”

“There’s a million things to do, a millions things to do, a million things to do before Chris lost his mind!”

The free fall ends as the campers land in a giant bowl of rice. Courtney sighs. “Real creative,”

“OMG, Asian cuisine!” Mal says, her head popping up out of the rice. “Did you guys know that most Canadian restaurants don’t actually serve authentic food? Yeah, it’s totally westernized.”

Staci rolls her eyes. "Yeah, okay,"

"You're just jealous of my knowledge," Mal insists. "What's your problem?"

"I'm Japanese!"

Mal blinks. "Um... you don't look Japanese,"

"Well... I'm half Lebanese, but still. You're such a freak!"

"You're the freak!"

“Glad to see you all made it to the ground safely,” Chris winks as the teens begin climbing out of the bowl. “Welcome to Seoul!”

The camera zooms out to show the bowl of rice in the middle of a busy metropolitan area. Chris chuckles. “Your challenge today is a favorite pastime of Koreans-”

“OMG, are we doing a K-Pop challenge?” Mal squeals. “Or is it related to fashion- or beauty? I buy all my contacts from South Korea!”

Chris’ brow furrows in annoyance and he gives Mal a few more seconds of talking time before he slams his side into her, throwing her across the pavement. The Yaois sigh in relief and Staci salutes. “That’s better,” he says. “Anyway, as I was saying, today’s challenge is a favorite pastime of many Koreans, and was even licensing professional players of this popular sport back in 2000.”

“Wow, right before 9/11!” Joner says. 

“Is that how you Americans really measure time?” Chris sighs. “Yes, before 9/11. Now, as I was saying-”

“Is it going to be contact-heavy, because my doctor told me I shouldn’t sustain any wrist injuries,” Staci says, flexing their wrists. “For typing.”

“If you’ll listen-”

“Move out of the way, wimps,” Patrick barrels through to the front of the crowd and flexes his muscles. “I was made for sports.”

“SHUT IT!” Chris shouts, forcing everyone silent. He coughs, brushes off his shirt, and speaks. “Today’s challenge is all about esports- AKA, competitive gaming.”

Most of the teens groan, with the exception of one- Bonnie whoops and hollers. 

---

BONNIE: “Finally, something I know I can do,”

---

“Music to my ears,” Chris wipes away a fake tear at the sound of the teens’ misery. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you all set up.”

---

Chris throws open the doors to a massive stadium, earning some oohs and ahs from the contestants behind him. “This will be your playground for today. Now, esports are taken very seriously in South Korea, so let’s be cautious not to say anything offensive,”

The teams walk behind him as they enter the arena, looking at the thousands of empty seats. Ass elbows Mal in the ribs. “You’d better bring your a-game, miss Asia,”

Mal grins. “You can count on me!”

Chris leads them up to the stage, where a few long tables have been set up with PCs. “This is your first leg of the challenge- the classic multiplayer,” he says. “You and your teams will be competing in a MOBA- a multiplayer online battle area.”

“In traditional MOBAs, there are two teams, but we’ve added three just for kicks. Every contestant will have a class rank that’ll either help or hinder your team, depending on how you wanna use it,” Chris grins. “The last team base standing wins an advantage for the next part of the challenge. Ready your computer and headsets!”

The teens begin taking their seats, most looking relatively unsure of the circumstances. Frollo prods at his computer with the end of his Bible. “What is this strange beast?”

“Okay, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a computer,” Michela says, pulling out her chair. 

“I dare not touch it. I only see such wonders at unholy places. Like CVS,” 

“It’s, um, powered with the light of God,” she says, leaning over and turning on the PC. The screen flashes white. “See?”

He rolls his eyes. “I cannot use this. Bring me an abacus,”

Michela turns to Albert with an exasperated expression. He shrugs. “We can carry with five players,”

Over at the Yaoi table, things aren’t looking much better. Julia seems to be setting into the computer functions just fine, while everyone else is hovering around Mal. 

“What are the ranks and which is the best one?” Ass demands.

“How do I move?” Courtney asks softly. 

“Why are the graphics good? They’re scaring me!” Joner whimpers. 

“Just GIVE me a second to figure it out!” Mal snaps, trying to turn on her own PC.

Ass glares. “I thought you knew everything about this place,”

“I do! I’m just having technical difficulties!”

Ass rolls their eyes and Courtney yawns. 

---

“Your goal today is to protect your own base and destroy your enemies,” Chris explains, pacing back and forth between the players. “You must work together as a team.”

Bonnie adjusts their headset and speaks into the mic. “Okay, listen up, everyone: I can see my rank at the bottom of the screen, and I want everyone to tell me theirs when you find it,”

“I’m, uh, support!” Kelly says. 

“Healer!” Staci chimes in. 

Max sighs very loudly. “Mage,”

“Tank- perfect, suits me just right,” Phillip says, kicking back in his seat before falling backwards. 

“I’m a fighter,” Bonnie goes on, ignoring the commotion. “Okay, Max and I will focus on trying to destroy Team Mojo’s base- they’re the weakest team.” they say, looking up at Frollo scooch back in his seat, away from the computer. “Kelly, I want you and Phillip to defend our base. Staci, stay with them, but keep alert, we might need you.”

Phillip frowns. “Aw, why can’t I-” 

“No,” Bonnie says bluntly. He sulks. 

---

“So… what’s our gameplan?” Courtney asks Ass. 

They shrug. “Ask Miss International,” 

Courtney turns to Mal, who’s starting to look nervous trying to navigate her PC.

---

MAL: “Okay, food? Yes. Movies? Totally? I LOVE manga and K-Pop. But gaming? Um… not really my thing!”

---

“Ready, players!” Chris says. No one responds. “Set? Go!”

“Um… okay,” Michela says. “I’m a healer. You guys?”

“Support,” Albert says. “Anyone get a better rank?”

“This ain’t fair, baby- I’m a lover, not a fighter!” Austin pouts. Patrick rolls his eyes. “Well, I got bruiser. And I’m not afraid to take a few hits.” he chuckles. “Hey- Hey- wait!”

Patrick rapidly clicks his mouse as his character is almost instantly killed. He stands and swipes his PC off the table with a high-pitched scream. 

“Okay. Four players. We can work with four players, right?” Albert says. Michela shrugs. 

“Sha-Mod?”

“Mage,” he says. “Austin, let’s go scope out Team Yaoi. Joner has a terrible blindspot.”

---

SHA-MOD: “Takes Three actually draws a lot of inspiration from video games, which we play while we’re recording. For… creative inspiration,”

---

“Okay, I’m a healer,” Courtney says contemplatively, clicking their mouse. “What do I do?”

“Just wait at base! We need a decoy,” Mal nods. 

Julia raises an eyebrow. “A decoy?”

“Duh, every team needs a decoy- Joner, get out there!”

Julia blinks. 

---

JULIA: “Something tells me Mal isn’t actually too familiar with online gaming,” she then coughs awkwardly. “Not that… I am, either. You know. That’d be sooo lame.” she laughs nervously. 

---

Joner’s character nervously drifts out to sea, so to speak, and stands at the line separating Team Yaoi and Team Friendship’s base. “Okay, what do I do now?” he whispers sharply. 

“Go distract them!” Mal says back. “NOW!”

Joner quivers and steps forward into Friendship territory. “Okay, what n-”

Within seconds, Joner’s character has been reduced to miscellaneous CGI body parts on the ground and Kelly and Phillip high-five. 

“Ugh! You had ONE JOB!” Mal shouts. “Now you’re in the penalty box!”

Julia rolls her eyes. “It’s only five minutes, calm down,” 

“What would you care?” 

The blonde’s eye twitches. 

---

JULIA: “Okay, fine, I admit it! I play a ton of these stupid games! I mean, it started off as a side hustle- get into the game code, max out my stats and take home cash prizes in local tournaments- but I am like, insanely good at it in normal mode!”

---

“Did Austin get killed again?”

“Yep, he’s in time-out. He’s not taking it too well,” Sha-Mod says as Austin rocks back and forth on the ground behind him and sobs. “Any luck with Frollo?”

“He’s still refusing to get online,” Michela sighs. “He’s just standing there talking about the fortune teller he met in a Costco.”

“Does anyone else think it’s weird we’re talking to each other like we’re in different rooms when we’re all sitting next to each other?” Albert says. The camera zooms out to show them all still lined up at the table while Frollo paces back and forth behind Michela, Austin cries behind Sha-Mod, and Patrick glares and pouts in the corner. 

“Okay, um… so, what’s our strategy?” Michela asks Sha-Mod. 

“Don’t die,”

---

“How are we holding up?” Julia asks. “I can’t see any of you guys.”

“You can’t see any of us because we’re all dead. Thanks to the brilliant leadership we’re all blindly following!” Ass says sharply. 

Mal gasps with offense. “As if it’s my fault! You’re just lazy players!”

Julia massages her temples as the two bicker before finally snapping. “Alright! Listen up! Once you’re all respawned, meet me back at base and we’ll reform,”

---

Michela and Albert both hover over Sha-Mod’s shoulder as he tries to defend base as the last player available. 

“Move in!” Bonnie shouts from across the room. They and Max swoop in and destroy Team Mojo’s last soldier, and promptly take the base.

“Yes! Take that!” Max shouts, pointing an accusing finger to the team. Michela raises an eyebrow and he quickly sits back down. 

“And we’re rounding out a Yaoi v. Friendship finale here!” Chris says, then chuckles to himself. “Never thought I’d say those words.”

Julia turns to her team. “Are we ready?”

No one looks confident, but all look less confused now that Mal, who’s pouting with her arms crossed, has taken a back seat. “I’m not playing,”

“Suit yourself!” Julia ignores her plea for attention. “Let’s move out!”

“Brace yourselves!” Bonnie warns at the other table. The team buckles in and focuses harshly on their gameplay as four Yaoi players come charging at them. 

Poof- Joner out. Then Phillip. Courtney, then Kelly and Staci in one blow. Ass and Max are next to take the fall as they kill each other at the same time, leaving only two. 

“Just us now. Better for you to give up while you still have the chance,” Julia says. 

“You wish,” Bonnie fires back, and then immediately charges. 

Each team watches in stout anticipation, and when the dust clears, Team Yaoi’s base is gone and Bonnie has only taken half the hit points.

Team Friendship cheers and Chris claps slowly. “Nice one. Here’s your advantage,” he tosses Bonnie a plastic baggy. 

“Gummy bears?” they raise an eyebrow. 

“Oh, you’re going to need the energy. Everyone follow me!”

---

The teens stand behind Chris in a large, black room, looking from side to side for any sign of life. 

“What is this?” Ass asks. “What, are you going to lock us in here and have us fight to the death in real life?”

“Heh, I wish. This challenge is the one that’ll determine our winners- and losers,” Chris says, pulling out a VR headset. “It’s time for the latest innovation in gaming- virtual reality!”

“This time, we’ll be testing your mental and physical strength with a series of rhythm-based games, as are popular in the virtual reality cafes of South Korea,” he goes on. “You’ll each be selecting your most capable player to take on the challenge and bring home the gold. Let’s get moving!”

The teams immediately turn to each other and begin discussing amongst themselves. 

“I’ll do it,” Sha-Mod immediately volunteers, prompting a sigh of relief from both Michela and Albert. 

“It should be Julia, right? She’s the only person here who knows what she’s doing,” Ass says, putting their hands on their hips. 

Julia shakes her head. “I’ve never done anything related to VR, it’s completely different,” 

“Well, I haven’t either!”

“If I may,” Joner steps up and picks up the headset. “My buddy Eric has one.”

Ass and Julia look between each other, and then shrug. Over at team friendship, the vote seems unanimously for Bonnie- except for Bonnie’s themselves. “I can’t do that,” they shake their head. “I don’t have any good memories associated with those things.”

“Well, the rest of us have NO memories associated with them,” Max insists. “Unless someone else thinks they can-”

“I’ll do it,” Staci snatches the headset. “How hard can it be?”

"Um..." Max starts, but it's too late. They've already merrily skipped across the room.

Chris’ voice catches everyone’s attention. “Alright, campers! Let’s get you set up and ready to rumble!”

The three selected players adjust their VR sets and stand in their designated places, each facing a blank black wall. Chris explains the rules- using their controls, they will slash and hack at oncoming obstacles. One hit and they’re out- last man standing wins. 

He blows a whistle and the players begin, huffing and yapping as they swing around their handheld controls. The rest of the teams blink. 

“Hm. Guess we should’ve been recording their POV,” Chris says, then shrugs. “Oh well. Notes for next time! Up for some Korean BBQ?” he asks Chef. 

“Thought you’d never ask,”

The two walk off, leaving the teens alone. The minutes tick by, and by now just about everyone is sitting on the floor, absent-mindedly watching the contestants grunt and swing their hands around. The sound of their shoes scuffling on the floor is almost comical. 

Julia sighs, sitting criss-cross on the ground. Her eyes drift to Bonnie. “Why aren’t you up there?”

“Not a huge VR fan. You?”

“Same,” Julia leans back against the wall. “Good game, by the way.”

Bonnie raises an eyebrow. “Um… yeah, good game,” they look at the floor for a moment and then dig in their pockets. “Hey, um, I have something for you. From Scruffy,” they hold out the obsidian necklace. “They told me to tell you they’re rooting for you.”

“Oh!” Julia raises her eyebrows and cautiously accepts the gift. “Well.. aren’t you the little messenger.”

Bonnie rolls their eyes and pulls their hoodie over their head. “Just felt like a nice thing to do for Scruffy. With them gone and everything,”

The blonde sulks for a moment, and then quickly turns away. “Yeah, whatever,”

---

BONNIE: “Do I actually… feel bad for Julia? No, no… I must be getting sick,”

---

“What’s the deal with that?” Max asks, watching the interaction curiously. “You better not be befriending the enemy. Having Scruffy go on about her was hard enough.”

“I was just trying to do something nice,” 

Max rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Softie,”

“You’re one to talk,” Bonnie mumbles, elbowing him and nodding ahead to where Albert and Michela are giggling about something together. Max turns red and looks away. 

“NOOOO!” Sha-Mod shouts, as if in agony, and collapses to his knees. His headset falls off and he coughs weakly before keeling over on the floor. 

The commotion recaptures the audience interest and more and more of the respective teams begin turning towards the scuffle. Joner cries out in agony next, and Staci cheers before the VR headsets power down. “Hey, where’d the lights go?”

Chris re-enters the room, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Looks like Team Friendship has secured the win! Wish we could've seen that but hey- budget. Amirite, guys?”

The teens stare back, clearly unamused. Chris chuckles. “Team Mojo, I’ll see you guys at the elimination ceremony,” 

The team groans against team friendship’s cheers, and Yaoi just sulks. “You got lucky this time,” Ass snaps at Mal. 

---

“What a day. What a meal! Mm!” Chris says, accentuating his point by waving his napkin around. “But I suppose your gruel a la Chef Hatchet will be okay, too. Now, let’s see- you guys failed today, pretty hard. But some of you were more annoying about it than others. 

Michela, Albert, and Sha-Mod- you’re safe,” he tosses each a bag of pretzels. “Auuuustin. Patrick- way to rage-quit. And Frollo, you didn’t even try. But only one of you is going home, and that person… is…

Patrick- you’re safe.”

Frollo stands, clutching his Bible. “This cannot be,”

“It can, and it is,”

He suddenly holds out his hands before Chef can grab him. “I received a message in a dream last night. There is a traitor among us,”

Sha-Mod points. “AMONG US!”

Frollo ignores him. “Someone on this plane is not who they say they are, and they will stop at nothing to reach their goal- MURDER!”

The team gasps, then Michela shakes her head. “Wait, why’d we gasp at that? This guy’s crazy,”

“Find the traitor! Before it’s too late!” Frollo insists as Chef approaches, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to the door. He shrieks as he’s tossed out. 

“I’m gonna miss that nutcase,” Chris sighs. “Well, see you all tomorrow!” and with that, he saunters off. Michela and Albert make fleeting eye contact, and then the team slowly walks to economy. 

---

Deep within the belly of the plane, tucked within the cargo hold, surrounded by boxes and suitcases and crates galore, Frollo sits. “They don’t believe me, but they will,” he says, drumming his fingers on his Bible. “I must save them. Even if it means getting tossed outside and climbing back in a thousand times. It’s what Jesus would have done…”

A rat sitting beside him squeaks. Frollo pets it. “Yes, my brother. Now,” he says, pulling a vial of holy water from his robes. “Let’s baptize you.”