Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out. 

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing 

read it on ao3!! 

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?” 

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform. 

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder. 

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -” 

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says. 

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.” 

“The event’s on Saturday night.” Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?” 

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek. 

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.” 

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear. 

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil. 

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.) 

You have: One! New message! 

FROM: Virgil 

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding 

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.” 

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him. 

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?” 

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot. 

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.” 

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container. 

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?” 

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow. 

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!” 

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?” 

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet. 

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!” 

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!” 

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.” 

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!” 

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!” 

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters. 

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins. 

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?” 

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ” 

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?” 

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.” 

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.” 

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity. 

“Very well.” 

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center. 

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!” 

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.” 

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it. 

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!” 

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.” 

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!” 

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles. 

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.” 

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.” 

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.” 

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!” 

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps. 

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!” 

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.” 

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?” 

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus. 

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe. 

They look gorgeous. 

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone. 

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself. 

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says. 

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!” 

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling. 

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.” 

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.) 

Okay but basement gerard being in awe that he can get the reader off with his fingers (female pronouns if thats okay :) )

Experiments

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: Mature (light smut) Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~1900 Author’s Note: I really liked working on this story! Sometimes writing smut can get difficult because I feel like I’m writing the same thing over and over, but this request gave me a different focus

You and Gerard sat on the cool ground next to the pond hidden deep within the park that was halfway between each of your homes. It was where you regularly met up to hang out and pass time together, but when you called him today to see if he was free, you had something specific in mind. You had been chatting happily about a movie that was coming out soon, but now there was a lull in the conversation so you decided this was your chance.

"Hey Gee, can I ask you a question? It's ok if you don't wanna answer," you asked. You couldn't help how the words came out, but they seemed anxious.

Gerard shifted nervously at your sudden change in tone. "Umm, yea, of course."

"What do guys think of girls with no experience, if you know what I mean."

Gerard's mind went blank for a moment before the question registered. "Oh! Umm, I dunno. I mean, I umm don't have much experience either, so I don't pay attention when other guys are talking about stuff like that. They can be kinda gross."

"Oh," you paused, considering the next question on your mind. The real question that you were beyond nervous to ask. "Because I was thinking... ya know how last year I went out with Scott? Well we didn't do anything, umm, under the clothes ya know, and I kinda wanna at least... have a little more experience in that regard before we move into the city for school. So I was wondering if," you drew out the last word, before closing your eyes so you wouldn't see his reaction, "you wanna maybe experiment a little bit? Together?"

When you opened your eyes again and glanced over at Gerard, his cheeks were rosy red, much like your own, and he wore a look of surprise. "Really? Me?"

"Yea, I trust you Gee. We've been friends for a long time and we don't have to go very far if you don't want and if not, that's ok -"

"I'd love to," he said, cutting you off. "I mean, I'm happy to help," he smiled nervously. "Sooo, when do you wanna start?"

You swallowed hard. You would climb in his lap and start making out with him immediately, but that would make your feelings for him obvious, and you wanted to keep those separate. You liked Gee, a lot, but you were pushing those feelings aside for the purposes of this endeavor. "Whenever," you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant glancing up at him. 

He nodded and then started to lean in. Your breath caught in your chest as your lips met his. They were as soft as you'd imagined as they moved against yours. Then one of his hands was cupping your cheek, before sliding back to run through your hair. You leaned into him, clutching at his t-shirt, soft from years of wear. You decided to take things further as you deepened the kiss, as your tongues moved against each other. Your head was spinning as his other hand found your bare knee.

Suddenly you heard a noise in the distance, and even through your lust-filled haze, you realized people were coming up the path toward where you were. You pulled back and smiled at Gerard, who looked equal parts stunned and delighted as a family walked by on the path behind you.

"Wow, I, umm," he breathed as he ran his hand through his hair.

"So far so good," you smiled.

"Yea, do you wanna go someplace less... public?"

"My parents are home. Shit, I forgot I told my mom I'd be home for dinner tonight," you said glancing at your watch.

"Do you wanna come over to my place after?" Gerard offered.

You smiled as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "Yea, sure," you nodded.

"Cool," he replied, running his hand through his hair.

"Ok, I'll see you soon," you said getting up and Gerard scrambled to his feet as well. 

You and Gerard walked back to the park entrance in silence, your hands brushing occasionally, but you weren’t sure you wanted to grab his hand. You didn’t want to scare him off. Before splitting off and going your separate ways, you gave him a hug and headed home, your heart pounding in anticipation of the rest of the night.

When you got home, you tried not to rush through dinner with your family before running up to your room to change. When you went to prom the previous year with your boyfriend at the time, you bought a cute lace bra and panty set, but since things didn't go the way you'd planned, they remained unappreciated in your drawer. You pulled your shorts back on, and threw on a zip front hoodie. You took a moment to check yourself in the mirror before rushing to Gerard’s house.

You went around the back door like usual and rocked back on your heels as you waited anxiously for Gerard to let you in. It felt like forever when he finally opened the door, hair still damp, as he had apparently taken a shower.

“Hey, come in,” he greeted you, nerves evident in his voice as you followed him into his room. He shut the door behind you as you stood a few feet apart, unsure who should make the first move.

“Soo-” you started.

“(YN) can I tell you something before we go any further?” Gerard cut you off.

“Yea, of course, anything,” you replied.

“I just want you to know, I just wanna be honest… I really like you (YN), as more than a friend. If that complicates things and you wanna go, that’s ok.”

A smile broke out across your face. “That’s more than ok Gee. I… umm... the reason I asked you to do this with me was because I trust you and I like you too. I was trying to tell myself that I could pretend I didn’t have these feelings, but if there’s no reason to pretend I don’t, then...” you shrugged.

In an instant Gerard closed the distance between you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. When you pulled back for air you took a step back and unzipped your sweatshirt, letting it fall off your shoulders and onto the floor.

Gerard looked awestruck as he took a step toward you, tentatively placing his hands on your bare waist. “You’re so beautiful (YN),” he said softly.

“Thanks Gee,” you smiled, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Do you wanna,” he nodded toward his bed.

“Yea, sure,” you said, taking his hand and walking over, climbing onto the Star Wars sheets. He climbed in over you as your lips reconnected. You laid back as he caressed your side, seemingly unable to get enough of the feeling of your soft skin.

He pulled back and looked up at you. “Can I?” He asked, nodding toward your chest.

“Yea,” you breathed, as his hand connected with the lace material of your bra. His touch was gentle and he started to kiss on your neck. “Gee you’re making me feel so good,” you murmured.

“Good,” he said against your neck as he continued to press kisses against it.

“You can umm,” you said nodding down, and Gerard took the hint, reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. He fumbled with it for a moment before it came loose and you discarded the garment.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. “Sorry, you’re just so beautiful, it’s… wow,” he said with a goofy smile, making you laugh.

“Again, you sure know how to make me feel good,” you smiled.

"That's all I wanna do. I wanna make my girl feel good," he said before leaning in to kiss you again.

Your mind was spinning again. 'My girl' he said. He called you his girl. You were so happy, you couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

Eventually his hand ran down your body to your hip. Desire and excitement was running through you, but this move made you nervous.

"Hey Gee," you said breathlessly. "I'm not ready to go all the way, but if you wanna… use your hands," you trailed off.

He looked up at you, and he smiled. "Yea, I can do that."

He sat back and you watched as he carefully unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, as if he was unwrapping a present on his birthday. You lifted your hips as he slid the denim material down your legs, and he dropped them somewhere near your bra as he took in the sight of you laying in his bed, only in your underwear.

He smiled as he laid his body over yours, his thigh rutting between yours, and your hips moved against it, seeking friction. You and Gee made out like this for a while before he trailed his kisses down your neck and his hand found your hip again.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

You nodded. "Yea, really sure."

As he traced the skin just above the waistband with his fingers, you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. He looked up at you wide eyed as you started to blush furiously. But then he slid his hand under the waistband and ran his fingers gently between your legs. Tentatively he let one finger trail down and then it dipped slowly into you. 

You let out another gasp and Gerard's eyes were back on you. "Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no, please don't stop," you moaned. 

He started to move his finger in and out as your legs spread further apart. You glanced down and saw Gerard was watching your reaction. Then you felt a second finger pressing in and you covered your mouth with your hand as another moan escaped your lips. Then after pumping in and out a few times, he brought his thumb to massage against your clit and your back arched off the bed. 

You had never felt this good from head to toe before, like every part of you was electrified. You had your eyes closed and bit your lip as the realization that it was Gerard, your friend, the guy you liked more than anyone else in the world, that was making you feel this way. Not much longer your back arched again as you came around his fingers, moaning his name.

As you opened your eyes, you glanced down at Gerard. He was looking up at you awestruck. "Gee that was incredible," you panted. "I've never felt like that before."

"Really?" He asked as if he almost didn't believe it.

"Yea," you nodded excitedly as he shifted up and kissed you again. He wrapped his arms around you rested your head against his chest. You both laid silently, enjoying the moment together.

"Gee?" You asked softly.

"Hmm?" He hummed.

"Did you mean it when you called me your girl?"

He looked at you adoringly and nodded. "Yea, I mean, if you wanna be?"

You nodded back. "Yea, I really do."

He replied simply by leaning in and kissing you deeply, a smile on both of your faces.

Hunger

[cw: violence, swearing]

A dim glow of the street lamps illuminated the quiet town of Redacre. From this sight alone, one might make the assumption that it was a normal, peaceful town, where families gathered around the dinner table each evening to have a meal together and spend time in each other’s company, or where kids would go to school to meet up with their friends to laugh, joke, and talk about the most recent gossip or who they were going to junior prom with. But, I knew better. We all did. Dinner tables were often empty. Families were too tired to spend time together, either because they never slept or they dug down in the labyrinth hidden underneath the town all night. Innocent teen gossip was replaced by the somber air surrounding the discussion of who went missing the previous night.

And then there were kids like me, sorry bastards who were fortunate enough to hear Voices in our heads and wake up in the middle of the night in odd places where we didn’t initially close our eyes. I was a member of the esteemed Blackout Club who sought to disrupt the nightly operations of one of these mystifying Voices, often at the expense of a good night’s rest. Fortunately for me, it was the last objective of the night. Upon its completion, I would be able to head back to the boxcar for a quick nap before sneaking back home. Some nights, I had a group to keep me company, but not this night. Schedules clash and accidents happen, especially with the risky work we’re doing. I zipped up my black hoodie to stave off the cold Virginia air. I wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

Bzzzzzz.

I froze suddenly, then grimaced. Damn phone. I wish I could just turn it off during missions, but HQ insists we leave our phones on so they can track our progress and send us updates while we’re “out in the field”. Admittedly, it provides some insurance, in the odd case we get suppressed and need to be saved in the morning. Still, I can’t help but jump out of my shoes everytime it buzzes in my pocket. With a sigh, I retrieved the damn thing and looked at the message. 

Your Stalker: “Behind you.”

A gasp escaped my lips. My blood ran cold at the sight of the text message. Reflexively, I twisted my head around to see a familiar face, one I hoped I wouldn’t see again. Aaron Costa, leaning against a tree and looking directly at me. A black bandana covered the lower half of his face, and he wore a signature white and red jacket. The last time I saw him, he tried to drag me to the red door, force me to live in an eternal slumber, listening to the same old song forever. He tried to make me a walking puppet for the Voice that was deemed worse than the others.

“Please. Don’t freak out,” he hushed before I could say anything, his hands raised half way in an attempt to appear unthreatening. It was a decent attempt, but at his height, he mostly towered over me. He’d be a threat to the average person. Still, for as much of a threat that he was, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the scar down the side of his face. It was the battle wound I gave him when I managed to get away from him on that fateful night. 

I took a step back. “What the hell do you want?” I hissed, teeth bared. I glanced left and right to look for possible escape routes. I might be able to outrun him. I knew for damn sure I could out maneuver him. The Club’s training made sure we could escape an enemy bigger than ourselves.

“I need your help, RK,” Aaron pleaded, pulling down his bandana and taking a step forward. In response, I took a couple steps back. If he gets within arm’s reach of me again, it’s game over. I’ll be at the red door before I know it, and I have no spare drone part to save me this time. He froze, noticing that I was putting space between us. “I’m…” he stammered. It was odd to see him flustered. He always had this air of calm around him, but I guess that’s just who I thought he was. It was just a ruse to get close to me, so he could convert me to his weird religion. 

“I’m sorry about what I did. What I said about your brother was insensitive,” he continued. “I was just…” he paused, searching for words. “I didn’t expect you to respond like that. I thought I could show you how that club lies about us, how destructive they are, how much better it would be with us. I failed, so I felt like... it was the only way to keep you as my friend. It was desperate and stupid.” There was a certain honesty behind those brown eyes, imploring me to listen. I was such a sucker for sob stories, but the voice of reason in my head was too strong. I knew we could never be friends like we once were.

“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen?” I growled, tightly crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You chose your Voice over me, a person! A human being!” Aaron didn’t respond, his gaze sinking to the ground. Did he want to argue about it, but was holding his tongue? I wasn't sure. In a different town, with no Voices, we would have been friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how my other relationships would be different if the looming threat of Voices didn’t hang over everyone. 

Here, in Redacre, I wasn’t afforded that opportunity. I always had to remember the grasp the Voices had on everyone, how much people tried to fill in missing puzzle pieces with them, to dull the emptiness and pain that was so common to the human condition. I had to remember what people were willing to do for the Voices. I could never forget. My honest friendship could never compete with a millennia of manipulation techniques. I’m not good enough. I would be thrown to the wolves easily, just like before.

After a moment of silence between us, my curiosity got the best of me. With a sigh, I asked, “What do you need help with? I’m not doing any stupid Chorus things.”

The tension in Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. “No. It’s nothing like that,” he explained. “We are...being hunted. By the Beast."

"The Beast?" I asked.

"The Hunter," he clarified. "Some of us have gone missing, and I know you have been making notes." 

I arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Kids talk at school," he answered. "Please, RK. I don't want more people getting hurt. I just need more information so I can help protect them."

"You mean protect more Stalkers like you?" I gave him a skeptical look and planted my hands on my hips.

"No matter what you call them, they are still people," he responded with a frown.

I paused. Dammit, Aaron. He was right, in his own twisted sense. The thought of more people forced under the Hunter's sway hit a particularly sensitive nerve.

With a soft sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flipbook. With reluctance in my tone, I held it out to him and said, “Here. These are the more recent field notes.” 

Aaron reached out and took it, his eyes scanning the little pages as he flipped through them. “The Hunter is experimenting on people?” he asked.

“With these weird tablets, yeah,” I answered with a nod.

“And these curses…” He murmured, his face scrunching in confusion. He flipped the notebook around and pointed at a poorly drawn doodle of a person with sharp, gnashing teeth. “What does this mean?”

I couldn’t help but snerk at my own artistic talent. “That’s, uh, one of the curses.” That answer didn’t seem to work for Aaron. He still looked helplessly confused, and a little concerned. “It’s called the Hunter’s Hunger. It gives you, like… these cravings, where you just want to, like, bite someone. It’s like mental torture if you try to resist it.”

He frowned and flipped to a new page, taking a moment to study before looking back to me. “Can I keep some of these pages?”

“Yeah, whatever. The curses and stuff are the last four pages,” I said grudgingly. Aaron gave me a grateful smile as he ripped the pages out and handed the flipbook back to me. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on with the Hunter? Are your people not told anything?”

Aaron’s lips pursed. “Anything we’re not told is to protect us and keep us safe. I trust them.” I let out a sigh at his response. Clearly, they weren’t being kept safe if Stalkers were disappearing, but he had such blind devotion that he’d be willing to sweep anything under the rug. Is that how they all are? Every kid who has an attachment to a Voice? Voices become so infallible that they can do nothing wrong?

“Hello? Someone there?”

Aaron and I both froze as a foreign baritone broke the silence of the night’s gentle ambience. The voice didn’t sound familiar, and judging by Aaron’s reaction, it wasn’t a Lucid or anyone he knew either. It definitely didn’t have that Lucid masked-sound to its tone.

“Come on. I knew I heard ya. Come out, come out,” the voice cooed. 

“Who is-” I began to whisper, but Aaron halted me with a soft shush, his finger pressed against his lips. He turned around and slowly stepped towards the nearby house, pressing his back against the wall. I followed him as he peeked around the corner in order to take a look at the strange fellow for myself, but Aaron stuck out his arm to block me before I could go further. He turned his head and gave me a look of concern. I shot him a nasty look. Aaron really needs to do something about his annoying “save everyone” superhero attitude. With an annoyed sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pushed it down and out of my way. He didn’t try to hold me back again, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders sulk.

A man that appeared to be in his early twenties walked down the street, looking under cars and behind corners for us. He wore torn up jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I looked a little closer and it looked like a rock band shirt with a colorful, abstract logo, but it wasn’t any band that I knew of. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair was pushed behind both of his ears.

“Greyson Burke,” Aaron whispered, his brows arched in surprise.

“You know him?” I looked up at him with a curious look.

“He was a senior at Central High when I was a freshman,” Aaron answered, his eyes still trained on Greyson. “After graduation, his band started playing at one of the local bars, but they stopped a few months ago. I thought their band split up, or something.”

Greyson was getting closer. I could see a wicked grin stretched across his face, his crazed green eyes still searching for the source of the voices he heard. A few more moments, and he would be upon us.

Aaron turned his body to me. “I’ll distract him. You go home, RK,” he told me. Sounds like a plan. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sure Aaron would be fine. He can handle himself. I gave him a nod as he stepped out of our hiding place out onto the street towards Greyson. I turned the other way and started sneaking back to the privacy fence, but I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I retracted my steps and peaked around the corner to watch the exchange.

“There you are. I knew I heard someone,” Greyson said with a sick grin. There was something off about his body language. The way he curled his fingers and dug his nails into the side of his pants. The way he would occasionally gnaw at his lower lip, and how he breathed through a partly open mouth. He wasn’t well. There was something wrong with him. He looked… hungry.

“What are you doing here, Greyson?” Aaron answered, his voice tense.

Greyson gave a nonchalant shrug, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wetten his lips. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take a stroll, and look for a dance partner, y’know?” He took a step forward, approaching Aaron. “Is that… Is that you, Aaron? Aaron Costa?” He craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes to get a better look. “Damn, boy. You’ve gotten tall!” He threw his head back and laughed, hand holding his stomach. Recomposing himself, he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and took another step forward. “Have you been working out? You look strong. I bet you would make an excellent dance partner.” Aaron stood his ground, not responding as Greyson studied him. When his green eyes landed on the side of Aaron’s face, his grin grew wider. “Nice scar. Want a matching one on the other side?” 

“Why don’t you just go home?” Aaron said, eyes narrowing. You wouldn’t think he was nervous by the tone of his voice, but I could tell he was by how he gently fidgeted with the corner of his jacket between his fingers.

Greyson released a piercing laugh. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to dance?”

“Are you really looking for a fight you can’t win?” Aaron responded with an incredulous look. He had a point. Greyson was a bit gangly, compared to Aaron. Plus, Aaron had height on him. You could easily make the initial impression that Aaron would overpower Greyson in a fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t know about that,” Greyson said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. “You might be a big bastard. But... I don’t play fair.” In a swift motion, Greyson pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged at Aaron, his hand gripping a pocket knife. My eyes widened as I caught sight of the weapon, a breath catching in my throat. Aaron had a similar reaction and reacted quickly by grabbing Greyson’s wrist. I heard a growl from Greyson’s throat. “Come on, Aaron. Just a little bite!”

I stood paralyzed as the two struggled with each other. Aaron would still be fine, right? Of course he would win. Anxious thoughts continued to run through my head as the battle waged. Greyson was stronger than he appeared, and Aaron was wearing down. Block after block, dodge after dodge. The pocketknife caught his heavy, white jacket a couple times, ripping into the material that was fortunately thick enough to protect his skin. Maybe Chorus does care after all. Aaron couldn’t manage to get a hold on him to subdue him, and every punch he landed didn’t seem to phase his attacker. There was something unseen fueling him, some hunger.

Greyson shoved Aaron back against a sedan, his body slamming against the metal with a reverberating bang. Aaron grimaced and momentarily lost his footing, but caught himself by grabbing the trunk of the car. “Gah...Shit...” Wow. Aaron actually swears. It would have been funny if this was not a life or death situation. I had seen enough. Panic was settling in, and if I did not do something, Aaron would just turn in to another missing Stalker. I stepped out of my hiding spot and made a bee-line towards them both.

“This was fun. Sorry it’s over already,” Greyson taunted. He reversed the grip on the pocketknife and moved in. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet pounding against the pavement. With a battle yell, I barreled into Greyson, catching him by surprise and knocking us both to the ground. The pocketknife clattered against the concrete out of his reach.

I winced as I fell and twisted my head around to where Greyson landed. On his hands and knees, he shook his head, hair draping over his face. He slowly turned towards me. “RK...RK....RK… There you are. Did you want to play too?” he growled as he stood, his face splitting into a wide smile. I hoped I bought Aaron enough time to recover.

I scrambled to my feet, but before Greyson could change his target, Aaron moved behind him and slipped his arms underneath his armpits, locking his hands behind his neck. Greyson struggled to free himself from the hold, his arms flailing in the air. Aaron twisted his body and threw Greyson against the car, his head smacking into the window and shattering the glass. Greyson fell limp to the pavement, shards falling around him.

I flinched at the sight, but I was distracted by Aaron’s urgent plea. “Leave him.” Together, we ran off away from the street and houses, the blaring car alarm becoming more and more distant the farther we ran. Soon, we were surrounded by trees, only the soft glow of Redacre’s lights visible over the dense foliage.

“I told you to go home,” Aaron said after twisting around to face me. He was in bad shape and struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Aaron. You’d be dead if I did,” I retorted, looking at him defiantly.

Guilt flashed across his expression, but he managed a soft smile and held out his hand, extending it towards me. “Thank you for having my back. I hope we can be friends again,” he said to me.

I looked at his hand, lips pursed into a frown. A long moment passed between us before I turned my body. “Be careful on your way home, Aaron,” I gave him those parting words, pulling my hoodie over my head as I walked away.

Never again.

Survey #259

"i went straight to heaven, but i kept on knockin’.”

What's something that makes you feel more creative? Music. What are the last three nail polish colors you wore? Wow, idk the last time I wore nail polish, but probably black or maroon. What's the last thing you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? YouTube is essentially my TV. Quite literally - I don't have a television in my room because I never watch it. What's a DIY project that you don't think actually works? Oh dude, plenty. I have DIY-obsessed friends online as well as a Pinterest, I know this shit, lmao. I can name one though with total certainty because I was with a friend when she tried that disgusting "YOU CAN MAKE cuPCAkES IN A C uP!!!!!" crap. It's the most eggy shit you'll ever try. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I think those crafts are generally super cute. Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what? (or what's one thing?) Oh yeah, one of my biggest being my senior prom pictures, but not for the reason you'd expect (save for two pictures of us that're just REALLY fuckin cute): I want them back because goddamn I was pretty ok and I miss that now that I hate my body every waking moment of every day. :^) What color is the zip-up hoodie you wear the most? Don't have one w/ a zipper, they're ugly. Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? No. Do you hate taking naps during the day? Nooo I love naps and usually take one a day. I tend to feel really tired all over again a few hours or so after I wake up. Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? MEEEEEEEEEEEE. Would you ever audition for American Idol? Hell no. Do you know anyone who thinks they're more talented than they are? Lol wow, this is mean. I don't think so. Do you buy gum? Rarely, even though I like it. What's your favorite dollar store?  I don’t have a favorite, I'd say? But I think we normally go to Dollar General. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime? Maybe like, six? Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? BITCH I WISH!!!!!!!!!!!! I would kill to get married in one, omfGGGGGGGGGGG. What was the most boring field trip you ever want on? I don't remember a bad one. I loved going on field trips. The last time you went, what were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? I’ve never been. Which country would you most like to visit? Eeeeek idk, but probably South Africa. What are your favorite types of videos to watch on YouTube? What I watch on YouTube has become pretty diverse, but I know my favorites are easily Mark's actual big projects w/ egos 'n shit alksjdflk;w gOOD SHIT MY FRIENDS. I still love let's plays, of course! Are you a hoarder? No. Is there a guy (or girl) that you wish things had worked out with? Yes. If you were to start a collection, what would it be? I'd loooove Shadow of the Colossus stuff, particularly the amazing figures they used to have only in Japan. And World of Warcraft stuff; all I have rn is an Illidan poster and a fae dragon plushy hanging from my ceiling that Jason got me. If you were rich, what things would you get done cosmetically? Mother of god, a lot. #1, make me skinny again for the love of fuck. Which would result in loose skin being taken off and probably a breast lift because being overweight ruined my comfort with them laskdjfw. Whiten my teeth and give me laser hair removal surgery on my legs, please. Are your parents too controlling? Not at all. Who is your favorite fictitious redhead? VOL'JIN Blizzard what the FUCK give him BACK What shows have you seen on Broadway? None. Who is the prettiest Asian YouTuber that you can think of? Bitch Mark is Korean and he's gorgeous as fuck goddamn it ain't fair. But this is a weird question. What is the best news you've heard lately? When my mom got a follow-up blood test, things looked good!! She especially needed to level out her sugar, which she did well on. She also didn't lose or gain any weight, so that's wonderful. Have you ever flown first class? Hunny I am v poor. Have you ever had food SO bad in a restaurant that you sent it back? I don't believe so, anyway. Do you talk in your sleep? Very regularly now. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house? OOF, yes. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick with me for a long, long time. At least two I remember from years upon years ago. Who was the last person you cut out of your life intentionally? My old therapist that I trusted and loved when I fucking shouldn't have. Where were you raised? By who? Eastern NC, by my parents. What were your first words? "Dada." What were some of your favorite things when you were young? DINOSAURS, Webkinz, Pokemon, and Spyro, to name a few. What did you grow up listening to? Mostly country and pop music. What games did you play in the past? Spyro was my obsession, and I also loved hunting games (ironic, as irl I would never even consider it???) as well as fishing ones, plus Crash Bandicoot. What was the best birthday party you ever had? I'm not sure. How about the best vacation? I'm unsure; I haven't really been on a lot. Do you have any secrets you never intend to tell? Yup. What memory would you like to disappear from your mind forever? A nightmare I had about my dad. If you were someone else, would you be friends with the person you are now? Yeah. Do you consider yourself a smart person? No. What friend in your life has been the greatest influence to you? I don't know. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? I shared a bedroom with an EXTREMELY volatile, violent woman once in the mental hospital. As in she had to go in solitary when she had a violent episode, during which she became very destructive to her surroundings, so as you could guess, I was worried about my own wellbeing. She was eventually moved because I was that uncomfortable. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? Well, Easter hasn't come yet, but we'll probably go to my sister's house for the kids. We'll celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving without fail. We don't pay much attention to others. I'd LOVE to do something for Halloween, we just never have anywhere to go/anything to do. What was the last thing you deleted? Pictures. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? There's black there. Oh, there's s'more black. What's that???? More bLACK????? MAN, I wish I could pull off pink. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? I had a pretty intense headache yesterday. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? My niece, and yeah, every time I visit. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? The fact I almost never leave my pajamas lmao. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? A few days back, I was reeeaaally bored and actually watched TV deliberately, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?????? It was The Witcher; wasn't bad. I'd be willing to watch more. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? uuuuuggggGHHHHHHHH let me be GOTH. Give me a corsette if they weren't notoriously uncomf with plenty of chains 'n stuff. BIG, SPIKY BOOTS. SKINNY LEATHER PANTS. UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH. Have you ever tried snowboarding? No. What’s your favorite planet besides Earth? Saturn is dope. Would you ever be a coach for any sport? Nope. What color of eyes do you have? Blue. Do you like tacos? NOOOOOOOOO. White or red wine? Wine is gross. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Foxes. What’s the youngest you would consider dating? No younger than 21. Do you think suits are sexy? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I was never really a fan. Respected him immensely as a musician, I just didn't care much about his music. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Ham. Turkey is always too dry and stringy. Do you look good in hats? I wouldn't know, I haven't worn one in forever. Never with short hair. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face's eyes? Colons. Do you like architecture? If so, do you have a favourite style or structure that you’d like to make note? Yes, and I should really have an answer for this, as architecture was a big part in Art History... Ummm Etruscan stands out, and of course Roman/Greek (even after the class I don't remember their differences well...). I love Middle Eastern architecture, too. What is one of your favorite words, in any language, and why? I just love the sound of "serendipity," as well as uhhhh "sakura" in Japanese and "kanji" in Chinese. I'm trying to think of a German one, as there certainly are some, but they're evading me right now. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled on foot? JESUS FUCK probably going to get Sara's brother from school, mother of all that is holy. But it might just feel like it because it was during the peak of my muscle atrophy in my legs. Are there any songs that you perhaps like but avoid because it makes you sad when heard? A good number. Do you like the area that you live in? What do you like or dislike about the area? NO. There's not shit to do and it's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Do you have a memory of when you really thought that you have lucked out on something? If so, what was it? Uhhhhh. A handful, I guess? Oh, uh, the suicide attempt to name one and probably the biggest. I took way too many of those pills to experience almost zero symptoms of an overdose; I did look up what "too many" was, because I wanted that. I'd say I was pretty fuckin lucky. If you have apps on your mobile phone, which one do you use the most? Facebook. Which do you like better: fantasy or science fiction novels? Why? FANTASY!!! I think it allows more creativity and possibilities of something magically "making sense" because yeah, it's fantasy. Science fiction has more "realness" to it, more, obviously, scientific elements versus make-believe. Do you like opossums? Do you think it is ethically right for others to keep opossums as pets? OPOSSUMS!!!!!!!!! ARE!!!!!!!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're my second-favorite animals kdsja;lkdjaw. BUT ANYWAY, no, unless it's for rescue reasons. When was the last time someone asked you a huge favor or advice? Do you get asked often by this person? Oh I have no idea. Probably my mom? And no, definitely not. She hates asking for help. What are your thoughts on nihilism? I definitely get it, but it's not my personal outlook. Do you like the snow? More like love. What are your thoughts and feelings towards work/jobs in general? I don't know? I've never even had a real, steady job, so it's hard to really answer... I've only had bad experiences. It's kinda weird to me how you have to work your ass off (usually) to get a job you enjoy, as well as slave for some stupid green paper until the day you die just to stay alive and healthy. But at the same time, it offers a sense of fulfilment and is as well something productive and beneficial to the masses to do. Civilization would be very, very different and unadvanced if we were without them, so I guess it is a necessary thing. Humans gotta work together to keep where we're at. Do you believe in astrology? I've never actually elaborated why I don't believe in it so there ya go: not in the slightest. All it does is offer extremely broad characteristics that, in some light, almost anyone can relate to so they feel included in something. We naturally want to "belong" within something as social creatures, and astrology is an easy one with it being so vast. It gives equally indirect advice that can be applied to a multitude of situations, so people just mold what they read to fit their world. Don't base your goddamn life choices on the random positioning of shit in space. What is something that you’ve made/created? Do you take pride in your creations? Well, way way way too many OCs that I do indeed love a hell of a lot. If you have a Tumblr account, do you have any followers that you wish would not follow you? Well I'm sure there are bots. What kind of books do you generally enjoy to read? Fantasy stuff, mostly. But I also love novels with deep meaning, particularly about life in general. A good plot is mandatory. Does the quality of a video, on YouTube or a television, matter to you? I mean of course in some situations, like if I'm watching something educational/something to gain visual knowledge from. What is one situation that may cause you to become shy (if there is any)? Don't don't don't don't don't point out that my serious interests/things I massively love are "weird" like it's been years and I can still barely explain why my biggest tattoo is a tribute to some fuckface on the Internet lmao. When one is depressed, what can a friend do about it? Do you find that there is a good method to approach people in helping them combat depression? It is SO important to, first, ask them what they want. Do they want advice, an ear to just listen, just your presence, to be alone? As for combating depression, that greatly depends on the origin (if any) of theirs. There are so many factors in answering this question, but what I mentioned should, imo, always be the start. Do you tend to listen to music that embraces your mood or does music dictate your mood? Is it a little bit of both? Definitely both. When I'm sad though, I'm almost definitely listening to somber music too. Do you find yourself to be generally a forgiving person? I'm too goddamn forgiving. Do you have an embarrassing memory that you now look back at and can laugh? If so and if you’re comfortable, could you share one here? Omg I have a Bible-length collection of those suckers. I'd prefer not to. What is one skill that you have worked hard to develop? Is there still room for improvement on that skill? Damn, anxiety-coping mechanisms and actually trusting them to help me through attacks. I used to be convinced that they were useless because it just wouldn't work and weren't immediately effective, but you've gooooooot to trust the process, friends. What do you consider to be your main passion(s) and how did they come about? Spreading awareness of the seriousness of mental health and the comfort of knowing there's hope. You can never stop pushing. My own experience with mental health struggles is definitely the deeeep roots of that. Who do you think influenced you the most in your life so far? Why? Jason changed my life in many ways. Trauma does that. He taught me a lot about the necessity of having faith in yourself to survive on your own, a shitload about love and how it's not some fairy tale, and that people change, even those you least expect to. What is something that you have overheard people talk about that really bothered you? I could name more than a few things about race stuff, living where I do. What do you normally say or how do you normally act in response to a compliment? I usually do this shy laugh and say "thank you" with too much enthusiasm. How many books do you own? Do you have more physical books than electronic books? I've no clue where a lot of my old ones are. I have no electronic ones; I strongly prefer to read a physical book. What are your thoughts on higher education? Is it really necessary? In your opinion, what changes can be made? Depending on your aspiring career, it can be necessary, but just as easily, it can be unnecessary. I know for a fucking fact it should not be NEARLY as expensive as it is. Maybe even free, but I have no idea what monetary concerns that could cause with whoever runs the place. Have you ever received a heartfelt compliment from a stranger? Probably at some point. How many people would you consider to be extremely close to you? "Extremely"... like three lmao. Maybe one more or so. When was the last time you had to speak to a crowd? How well did that go? When I was taking pictures at a wedding last. It went okay. How would you describe your general outlook towards humanity? We by no means deserve to be the apex predator and Earth would be a shitload better without us. How long do you think you could last without any contact with your significant other, best friend, or a person whom you consider would be the closest to you? I'll use my mom here, in which case idk. I don't particularly want to find out. I talk to her at LEAST by text daily. Every day now that she can't work/is always home with me. Have you ever realised that someone was lying, but it was too late to confront them? Nope. Eventually speaking up is how I lost her, but.

Untitled ABO Fic pt5

Lance was walking through some marketplace a dozen light years from where he'd last seen the team when the news broke.

Ding dong, the people cried in a growing wave, the wicked Zarkon is dead.

At first, Lance hadn't believed it. It had only been a month and the team had defeated Zarkon? But then he'd seen the source of the news: a propaganda video, made by the team themselves. In the video, Shiro and Allura took turns informing the viewer that Zarkon was dead and now was the time to rise up together to take down his empire. They were forming a coalition; a Voltron Coalition.

Lance had stood there, staring at the screen unseeing, even after the recording was over. His emotions were all over the place, ranging from happiness over Zarkon's defeat to the hard, heavy weight of the knowledge that removing him from the team had resulted in them accomplishing in a month what they'd been unable to do in the year and a half he'd been with the team.

It wasn't that he'd hoped they'd fall apart with out him. Nothing so dramatic or deadly. It was, just, thinking they'd been better off without him had been one thing. Seeing fairly good evidence it was actually true was another entirely.

Nehelo, the large bird-creature who'd been gracious enough to give him and Izzy shelter, had picked up on the downward swing in his emotions. Not that it was likely hard. He'd barely ate or drank anything, except what was necessary to keep producing milk for Izzy, since he'd seen the news.

"You should go to the party tonight."

Lance rolled his head to look at them, not wanting to move under the guise of letting Izzy sleep. "One: who's going to look after Izzy? And two: I'm not up for a party."

Nehelo narrowed their eyes at him, the equivalent of a glare. "You, Lance, are a social creature. You crave interaction with other living beings." They ruffled their feathers in a shudder. "Molina knows why."

Lance smiled, the first in days. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have met your lovely self."

A snort was the response, along with a wing wave of dismissal. "My point still stands. I'll watch your youngling while you go out and have some fun. Get yourself out of this mood you're in."

A grin slowly spread over Lance's face. "You'd do that? For me? But you hate children!"

The dark look Nehelo gave him was magnificent. "Yes, I do."

And yet, the former(?) Blue Paladin had never had to ask for a baby sitter. Lance joked deep (so very deep) down, the Rutennan secretly liked children. Nehelo argued that the only spawn they liked was Izzy and their fondness for her was the only reason they put up with him.

Lance let the Rutennan off the hook this time without further teasing. He knew going out and socializing wasn’t going to cure his depression, but he hoped it would at least lift his spirits a little to be surrounded by people just enjoying life. He even decided to go the extra mile and wear one of the more fancier outfits he’d usually reserved for those special nights the team took a night off for some down time.

The party was already well under way by the time he got there. There was a buzz about some ‘special guests’ arriving later for the ‘main event,’ but Lance didn’t pay it any attention, throwing himself into the crowd. The dancers brave enough to take to the crowd were diversified, few even having a humanoid shape, making for an interesting experience.

About an hour in, a light tap landed on his shoulder, followed by: “May I have a dance?”

Lance blinked, turning from his current dance partner (a lizard being he was only 80% certain might have been female). He blinked again when he found himself staring up at a figure who that looked quite a bit like Allura and Coran, except for the purple skin and yellow sclera. He even had the long white hair and pointed ears.

Unlike Allura and Coran, however, there was something about the guy that put Lance on guard. Maybe it was the fact he shared similar appearances with the Galra?

The Cuban teen put the unease aside, chiding himself for judging someone based off of their looks. For all he knew, this was normal of the guy’s people and it was a total coincidence.

Smiling, he reached out and took the hand the man was holding out in offering. A matching smile crossed the man’s face, making his already handsome features even more so. Lance was tempted to ask for beauty tips, because if this guy was using anything, the teen really wanted in on the secret.

Any questions were sent to the back burner once the next song picked up, a fast one at that. What happened next was like something straight out of a movie as it turned out that the mysterious purple man was a very good dancer, resulting in two talented dancers partnering up to take the dance floor by storm. Lance laughed with delight as he was matched toe to toe and it had been a while since he had really been able to let loose with a partner and he found himself pulling out some more difficult moves. By the song came to it’s climax, they were both out of breathe and grinning from ear to ear.

As the next song started, the man pointed to the refreshments, raising an eyebrow in question. Feeling a bit thirsty after the exertion, Lance nodded, allowing the man to take his hand as he led the way through the crowd. Once there, he released his hand to snag a glass and a ladle from the juice bowl.

With the dance going on behind him, Lance was reminded of those old prom movies his older sisters really loved. As he was handed his drink, he opened with: “You’re a very good dancer. Did you take lessons?”

The man smiled, finishing pouring out his own drink. “A very long time ago, yes.” He eyed Lance over the lip of his drink as he brought it up to take a sip. “You’re not a bad dancer yourself.”

“Multiple older sisters that all did dance.” Lance gestured to some tables off to the side that would allow them to chat and stay out of the way of anyone else wanting refreshments. The man followed him over, going so far as to pull a seat out for him. Lance thought it was a little over the top, but didn’t try to hide his amusement.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Lance asked as the man took his own seat, “What brings you to Rutenna?”

The man hmm’ed, the sound barely audible over the music. “Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. My mother was a scientist, but never got the chance to finish her research.” He placed his cup down on the table, eyes distant and fond. “I decided to try and finish her final project, which led me here.”

Not really Lance’s thing, but he had to give the man credit. Curiously, he prodded, “What was her topic?”

The man looked almost shy. “Quintessence.”

The Cuban teen raised an eyebrow, not expecting the response. “The life force of the universe stuff?”

His drinking partner raised his own eyebrow at him. “You know about Quintessence? Not many people know about it.”

Lance shrugged. He knew of it, sure. As a Paladin of Voltron (former or not), there wasn’t really any way that he could not know about it, but any time Coran or Pidge had tried to explain it in more detail, Lance found himself tuning out, so he’d missed any deeper explanation. “I had friends who know more about it then I did.”

The man nodded, as if this was within the realm of what he expected of a conversation partner. “And you?”

Lance took a sip of his drink to buy him a few minutes to compose himself. He’d had a little practice with his cover story, but it was always a little stressful whenever he had to lie and pretend he wasn’t on the run from what was supposed to be his family. “I decided to take a bit of a road trip with my daughter.” He paused on cue, as if realizing how odd that might sound. “Just with less road and more space.”

The man smiled indulgently at the attempt at a joke. He opened his mouth, perhaps to carry the conversation onto another topic of small talk, when the music came to a close, allowing the host of the party to come to the mic. 

“Thank you everyone who came to show their support tonight!” The host adjusted their collar, looking somewhere between excited and terrified. Lance wondered if it was from stage fright or another cause. His answer came when the host held out a wing-like appendage to open the stage to someone off stage.  “And because we all know who you’re really here for: let’s give a warm welcome to our guests.”

Lance felt like the blood in his veins had turned to ice as the first of several very familiar figures walked out, accompanied by the introduction: “The Paladins of Voltron!” He was too stunned to take advantage of the fact that right then would have been the time to make his escape while he was still unnoticed. Instead, he could only sit there, frozen in horrified shock as a pair of grey eyes met his own blue ones.

Time seemed to freeze as Lance and Shiro stared at each other from across the room. All noise was drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his ears. Lance might have sat there indefinitely, staring dumbly, if Shiro hadn’t taken a step towards him, lips moving in the shape of his name.

As if electrified, Lance jumped to his feet, wanting to look for the nearest exit, but unwilling to take his eyes off his former leader. “I’m sorry, I have to go!”

His dance partner glanced back and forth between him and the people on stage and the cuban teen. Without question, he also got to his feet, reaching across the table and tugging Lance towards him. "There's an exit this way."

Lance allowed himself to be pulled along, his last glimpse of his pack being Shiro going for the edge of the stage as he shouted, "Lance! Wait!"

To a degree, it broke his heart to run, to not stay and be reunited with the pack he so desperately missed, but Lance couldn't - wouldn't - allow them to deem Izzy a mistake.

So he ran. Ran like he'd run a month ago. Ran like he'd do again and again for however many times it took to protect his daughter.

"This way." As they took to the streets, Lance pointed in the direction of Nehelo's place, not giving much thought to why the strange man was still running with him, only grateful for his help. "Oh, Dios, Nehelo is going to be upset when I leave abruptly."

They rounded a corner, officially completely out of sight of the party. "Do you need transportation," the man asked.

Lance nearly stopped in the middle of the street to stare at him. "I can't ask you to get involved. Aren't you here for a research project?"

The man looked like wanted to shrug, but running wasn't conducive to it. "I can do my research anywhere." He reached out and briefly put a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Something tells me you are a good person. I would be honored to help you."

'Honored,' as if helping Lance - someone he'd just met and didn't even know the name of - was such a noble thing. But Lance was desperate, and he could fix one of those things. "Lance."

"What?"

"My name." He came to a stop near Nehelo's place, checking their surroundings. He didn't hear footsteps following them, but he didn't know if that was because they'd lost Shiro or if he simply hadn't followed.

The man also stopped beside him, studying the area to get his surroundings. Upon doing so, he turned back to the young man he'd just fled with. "Ah, forgive my poor manners." He reached out and took hold Lance's hand. Lance's eyebrow shot up as his hand received a slight kiss to the knuckles, the man grinning up at him far too charmingly as he did so.

"My name is Lotor, and I look forward to traveling with you."

-tbc

A New Hope (2/?)

AO3

Hope wakes up a little before her alarm went off, her body apparently still stuck on school mode. She switches the alarm to off before it can go off and buries herself back under her blankets, only half awake, living in her dreamworld of beaches and bike rides until she wakes properly, just a little after eight. It seems the long lie ins will take a while to come around properly. She settle for lying awake in bed with the covers around, running through imaginary conversations with Melody. She tries to divert her mind away from Melody and towards her hypothetical LA trip or any fun she could have this summer and it’s partially successful. Partially.

She finally starts getting restless, the covers begin to feel constricting, so she kicks them off and jumps out of the bed. She pulls on a white t-shirt and dungarees, not fashionable, but practical. She’s never been bothered about what “looks good”, especially in days like today when her only plans involve sitting inside and watching TV, maybe with the occasional venture out into the garden. Alex claims she has a similar approach, calling her wardrobe style “whatever I find first” but she still manages to look effortlessly gorgeous, albeit in a messy way. And then there’s Melody, who always takes pride in her looks, carefully matching every shirt with the right skirt and getting every detail right, even down to the ribbon she’ll decorate her hair with that day.

It's equal parts infuriating and adorable.

She pulls the sheet off her canvas, revealing her current project. Until a year ago, her drawings had mostly consisted of copying scenes from books and movies, her family’s story mostly, as well as her favourites. Her art box contained drawings of Harry Potter on the moving staircases of Hogwarts, Carrie White covered in blood at the prom (Henry’s idea to watch it, not hers), Spiderman on a New York skyscraper and Winnie the Pooh (one of her earliest projects). As she got older, she branched out a little, starting on quick sketches of her friends and family and onto landscapes, which she considered to be her favourites, and figures from her own imagination.

Right now, she’s working on a painting of a black haired, blue eyed fairy with a pink dress. So far it was so good, even if she had only really done half of it. She picks up her brush and starts experimenting with different shades of pink, mixing it with red and white and purple until she is satisfied with the colour for Isabella’s dress.

Okay, so she names her characters too. Nothing weird about that.

She starts on the outline, making the sleeves and hem of the dress a little darker, before painting the main body a lighter shade of pink, taking care, brushing gentle, careful lines down the canvas. Gideon has his books, Henry has his writing… Hope has art to get lost in. While in New York last summer, her parents had taken her to an art gallery, where she happily fell in love with picture after picture.

She steps back, admiring her work. While she doesn’t want to toot her own horn, so to speak, she would say it’s pretty good. She doesn’t pull the sheet over it, cautious of the wet paint, and packs away her paints and brushes before pulling open her curtains. Outside her window, the sky is light blue, streaked with faint clouds. The rest of Storybrooke is oddly quiet. At this hour, she surely would see people going about their day, but even Granny doesn’t have her sign out and the streets are deserted.

She goes downstairs, taking them two at a time, passing her parent’s closed bedroom door, and enters the kitchen to find Gideon sitting cross-legged on the table, already dressed in a white check shirt over a blue t-shirt and jeans, hunched over another book. He regards her with a nod, but his eyes don’t leave the page.

“Morning to you too, Gideon,” she greets, pulling herself onto the counter to reach the cereal. She busies herself with making a bowl while Henry comes in, still in his pyjamas, his hair messed from sleep.

“Coffee,” is the first word he says to either of them. He walks to the cupboard like he’s on autopilot and takes out the coffee grounds. Gideon, miraculously, puts his book down and uses his fingers to frame Henry like he’s on a TV screen.

“And here we see the adult in his natural habitat,” he says, voice low and husky like a nature documentary. “In the morning, the adult can only function on minimum energy, and so misses key functions such as manners, good graces, and the ability to brush one’s hair.” Hope squeals with giggles while Henry raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“You really want to go with me while I have hot liquid?”

“No, I’m good, I’ll go back to my book,” he says. Hope sits herself on the counter with her cereal, feet tapping against the drawers. From her spot, she has a view of the living room window, and can make out the yellow curve of her mum’s car, which sets off a little bell in the back of her head, which doubles when she looks at the clock and realises it’s nearly 10.

“Hasn’t Mom gone to work yet?” she asks. Henry frowns and looks down the hall. Hope just notices the red and black leather jackets still hanging on the coatrack, as well as Belle’s pale pink coat. A shiver runs down her spine.

“That’s weird,” Gideon remarks. “Maybe they forgot to set their alarms?”

“Have you met my father?” Hope replies. “He never forgets to set anything.” Henry nods. Hope begins to run her thumb and index finger around each other, trying to dispel all her nervous energy.

“Hey,” Henry begins, coming over to her and taking her fidgeting hand. “They just slept in, Hope. It happens. Maybe something knocked out their alarms or something. Nothing suspicious, okay?” Hope nods, still not entirely convinced, and Henry squeezes her cheeks before turning to go upstairs. Gideon watches her from the table, reading her like he reads his books.

“Come on,” he says, jumping down from the table and reaching his hand out to her. She frowns at him. “You’re clearly itching to get up there, so come on.” Hope slides her hand into his and jumps off the table.

“Thanks,” she whispers as she grips his hand tighter.

“Any time, Cygnet,” he says while they go up the stairs together. They find Henry paused at Emma and Killian’s bedroom door, his hand just above the wood, his fingers dancing anxiously.

“Nervous?” Hope asks, making him jump. She doesn’t let go of Gideon’s hand.

“Course not,” he says, faking a smile. Hope nods and swallows the lump in her throat. “Let’s do this.” He turns the door handle and pushes it, letting it slowly creak open. The room is dark, save for the light of the lamp on the right side of the bed. Henry pauses at the doorway before he takes small steps in. Hope and Gideon follow, creeping in like little mice. Emma and Killian are still asleep, both facing right, Emma’s arm around his waist and her cheek on his shoulder. There’s something about seeing your parents look so intimate with each other, sharing the quiet moments, wrapped up in their own love. It looks like a piece of art, too beautiful to disturb.

Henry inches closer to the bed while Gideon and Hope remain in the doorway, their legs nearly frozen.

“Mom,” he whispers, shaking her shoulder. “Mom?” His voice grows louder slightly, beginning to panic when doesn’t even stir. “Mom? Mom!” He reaches across Emma and desperately shakes Killian’s shoulder as well, calling his name. Neither of them even move.

“Oh no,” Hope whispers, her chest growing tight. She squeezes Gideon’s hand; her nails dig into the flesh and her body turns cold. “Oh no, oh no.” She looks to Gideon, his eyes wide and his shoulders shaking. “Hey.” She drops his hand, despite it being the only thing that’s keeping her from screaming. “Go check on your mom.” He looks from Henry still shaking Emma and Killian to Belle’s bedroom door behind them.

“Thanks,” he mutters before throwing himself down the hall and into Belle’s room.

Meanwhile, Henry runs his hands through his already-messy hair, his breathing grows ragged. Hope’s never seen him scared.

She comes over to the bed. Up close she can see that her mother’s mouth is open slightly and her hair is in a loose ponytail and that her father’s hair is messy and he’s not wearing a shirt.

She watches Henry place two fingers on Emma’s neck, then Killian’s, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

“They have a pulse,” he mutters, more to himself than her. “They’re alive, they’re breathing.” Hope nods, a whimper escapes her mouth. Henry looks over at her and something new comes over him. He kneels down to Hope’s level and holds her shoulders.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to smile. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find a way to wake them up.” An idea flickers in the back of Hope’s mind.

“Try True Love’s Kiss,” she suggests. Henry nods, seeming to silently kick himself for not thinking of that. He kneels beside Emma and pushes the hair off her forehead. He takes one look back at Hope before pressing his lips to her head.

Nothing happens.

She can’t help gasping as another wave of tears hits her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, coming and kneeling in front of her now. “Look, kid, none of our parent’s adventures were this easy. We’ve only exhausted option one out of an infinite number of possibilities, okay?” Hope nods, her eyes burning, just as an out of breath Gideon appears in the doorway, his lashes spiky.

“I can’t wake mum,” he says. “I tried, I turned on the light, I shook her, but she-”

“Hey, hey,” Henry says, taking him by the hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How?” Gideon asks as tears run down his red face. Henry sighs and takes a panicked look back at the comatose Emma and Killian before sitting Hope and Gideon on the edge of the bed.

“Look, back in the day, our parents dealt with stuff like this all the time,” he reminds them. “It always looked hopeless at the start, but they got through it. They got me off Neverland, they stopped Zelena from changing the past, heck, Mom saved Killian from Hades! Okay? Our family is unstoppable. And so are we.” There’s something in the way Henry says it, the conviction, the fire in his eyes, that has both of them believing him. It doesn’t lift the weight in Hope’s chest at all, but it makes the tears come a little slower. Henry smiles at them and kisses them each on the head. “Right, let me get dressed first, then we can scout the rest of the town. See what’s going on with everyone else.”

Minutes later, a now-dressed Henry runs out onto the streets with Hope and Gideon in tow. The streets are completely deserted, shops have their shutters down, curtains are closed. A light wind blows across, making trees rustle ever so slightly.

“It’s a ghost town,” Gideon remarks.

“What if we’re the only ones here?” Hope asks as goose bumps form on her arms. She has a feeling they’re not from the wind. Henry puts his hands on his hips as his eyes scour the street.

“We can’t be,” he says. “We just… We can’t be the only ones here.”

As it turns out, they’re not.

Gideon gasps loudly and Hope turns, her fists instinctively lifting, until she realises the new arrival is Lucas, his arms around Gideon’s waist, panting. He seems completely lost to everyone who isn’t Gideon.

“Thank god you’re okay,” he sighs, releasing him from his grip and pulling Hope into a tight hug, crushing her head. She doesn’t mind. If anything, she feels awful; Lucas didn’t even cross her mind. “Oh you’re okay.”

“I take it you’ve got the same problem as us,” Gideon says, his voice thick, as Lucas lets go of Hope and slips his hand into Gideon’s. “Your parents….”

“I tried everything,” he says. “I did, but they just wouldn’t move.” Henry turns to face them, the panic clear on his face, though he smiles briefly at Lucas. “Henry, what do we do?”

“Um… I don’t know…” he admits. “Why don’t we look through town? See who else we can find.” They agree, of course, given it’s the only idea they’ve had. Since splitting up is not an option, they walk through Storybrooke together, Henry leading the pack with the three of them clinging to each other behind him. They could hear a pin drop.

As they wander through streets, no real plan, they finally see another figure and feel weak with relief. And the dark blonde hair and brown jacket are instantly recognisable.

“Robin,” Hope sighs as she runs to meet them. When she meets them, they can all see how red her eyes are. Gideon doesn’t waste time in throwing his arms around her neck and Hope is close behind him.

“I am so glad to see you guys,” she pants. “My mom, she can’t wake up.”

“Neither can ours,” Gideon explains. “From the looks of it, we’re the only ones awake.”

“Alex is too,” she tells them. “I called her a few minutes ago.”

“Hope?” someone asks behind them. Hope is sure she knows the voice, and she finds she’s correct when she turns and sees Melody, wearing a pale pink lace t-shirt tucked into a floral skirt, ponytail tied with a baby blue ribbon. She runs towards the group, skidding to a half when she reaches Hope. “You guys are all still here.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Hope replies. She tucks her hair behind her ears and straightens her dungarees, partially to give her hands something to do and partially because she’s suddenly become self-conscious. She can’t pretend she doesn’t know why.

Alex comes running down the street next, throwing her arms around Robin, who whispers “thank god” breathlessly, before she turns to face the rest of them, regarding them with a breathless smile. Gideon looks from each member of their little assembled group, counting them under his breath, muttering their names, and his eyes widen.

“I’m going to check Philip,” he says. They go with him, of course. No one wants to be left out on the street alone.

Philip’s house is completely closed down, no lights, curtains drawn. Hope, Melody, Robin and Alex hang back with Henry while Gideon and Lucas creep up to the doorstep, Gideon holding Lucas’ arm like his life depends on it (and standing slightly behind him) while Lucas knocks the door. When no one answers, they wait five minutes and try again. And again.

Lucas grumbles and pushes the letterbox open.

“Philip!” he calls. “Phil, it’s Lucas. Come on, if you’re here, give us a sign.”

To all their surprises, the door opens just a crack. From where Hope stands, she sees Philip’s face appear.

“Prove it,” he demands. She wonders if he thinks he’s tougher than he sounds. “Tell me something only Lucas and Gideon would know.” The two look at each other, sharing a silent ‘yes’ and look back at Philip.

“Freshman year, last day before Christmas break, you got up on the desk when Miss Ackerman was out of the room and then…”

The door is yanked open, revealing a wide-eyed Philip, brandishing a saucepan in one hand, who throws his arm around Lucas before doing the same to Gideon.

“I thought you guys were demons or something!” he explains, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “And we also agreed to never talk about that ever again.”

“So you were going to… make them pasta?” Alex asks, half giggling. Philip looks up and just notices the rest of the group.

“I was short on weapons,” he replies as he, Lucas and Gideon join them, waving the saucepan under Alex’s nose. The laughter quickly subsides. The emptiness creeps in on all sides. Hope feels Henry’s hand on her shoulder, and it gives her some grounding anyway. Philip twirls the handle of the saucepan between his fingers until it slips and hits the floor. “So… now what?”

They don’t know. None of them know. Alex, who normally has an answer for everything, is twirling the blue streak of her hair while her eyes dart everywhere. Robin opens her mouth, then closes it again, and opens it again and closes it again. Like all she needs to do is say something, no matter how ridiculous.

“Why don’t we set up a base somewhere?” Henry decides. “Town hall?”. It’s the best idea they’ve heard all day, so they take it and walk to the town hall in an awkward, tense silence. Henry, naturally, leads with Alex and Robin close behind, their hands linked. Alex whispers something in Robin’s ear and Robin manages the tiniest of smiles, which only grows wider when Alex kisses her ear. Hope trails behind them with Melody wand Gideon on either side of her, but Gideon takes one too many looks back at Lucas and Philip.

“Hey,” she says, brushing her elbow against his. “Go hang out with your friends.” He smiles faintly and puts a hand on her shoulder. She guesses it’s meant to be comforting.

“We’ll be okay, Hope,” he says.

“I know,” she sighs. She squeezes his hand, something she started doing to him before she could talk. It lets him know she’s okay, that she loves him. He smiles and falls back to his friends and they form their own little trio.

And she’s left alone with Melody.

Something tells her that her pounding heart and dry mouth aren’t just because she’s scared out of her mind.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” Melody says. “I mean, I’m glad you’re all here.”

“Thanks,” she replies. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here too, I mean if you weren’t here I’d be really nervous. And I’d be really upset about it.”

“You would?” she asks, smirking. She has such a lovely smile.

“Yeah,” Hope squeaks. “I mean, you’d leave me here with all these losers?”

“We’re right behind you, Hope,” Lucas reminds her. She turns and sticks her tongue out at him, and she doesn’t miss Gideon’s knowing smile, the raised eyebrows when he looks at Lucas and Philip. If the circumstances were different, she’d smack him. Instead, she turns back to Melody.

“Thanks,” she says. They go quiet and Hope racks her brains for something to say. She envies the quiet support Robin and Alex can give each other, and the endless chatter behind her.

“You look really pretty,” she says. “I mean you always look really pretty but… you know I mean… I like your skirt.”

Nice one, Hope.

“Thanks,” Mel says, running her hand over it. It is pretty, just something Hope would never wear. “Yeah, I just threw this on.” In Mel-language ‘just threw it on’ means ‘this was the third one I tried’. “I really like your overalls.”

Liar, Hope thinks. Melody wouldn’t be caught dead in something so basic.

“Um, you have a bit of… Pink, on them,” she points out. Hope looks down to see a splash of pink of her chest.

“Oh, yeah,” she mutters, scratching behind her ear. “I was painting this morning. I guess I got a little carried away.”

“Cool,” Mel says, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Really cool. Something important or…?”

“Um, not really,” she says. “Just like… I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“Well, I doubt it’s stupid,” she replies.

Hope can’t think of a reply, but they come up on the town hall soon enough and hurry inside. Hope realises she’s never actually been in it before. She doesn’t know what exactly she expected but what she gets is a black and white marble floor like a chessboard, white walls with a pattern of trees on it, a brown desk with a tiny sense of foreboding around it and rows of metal chairs.

She sits herself down in one, not knowing what else to do. Henry leans against the desk, not looking at any of them.

“Okay,” Robin says, breaking the silence. She marches up to the front and waves her hand, presumably to switch on the lights, but all that happens is the bulbs flicker. She tries again, and again, and again, until they finally switch on for her. “Okay… So let’s make a plan.” Meanwhile, Alex goes to the corner and starts filling and handing out glasses of water.

“A plan for what?” Lucas asks. “We don’t even know what happened.”

“So we’ll find out,” she says. “Gideon!” His head snaps up at his name, and she tosses him a marker. “You’re the nerd here, write this down.”

“You’re bossy,” he says, but he runs up to the front and drags a whiteboard on wheels out from the corner.

“Okay,” Robin says, taking a deep breath in. “Calm. Logic. What do we know?”

“All our parents are asleep,” Philip begins.

“It’s not a sleeping curse,” Lucas suggests. “At least I don’t think it is. Sleeping curses make you look dead. All our parents, they’re breathing, their hearts are working.”

“And it’s not just our parents,” Hope adds. “It’s everyone in town, except us.”

“So what sets us apart?” Alex asks. “What makes us different.”

Nothing, Hope thinks. Gideon taps the pen against the whiteboard, which is already covered in his scribbles, arrows pointing out of a central question “what do we know”, until he drops it.

“Oh my gosh father!” he declares, not really to anyone in particular. His cheeks turn pink as he picks the marker up again. “Think again, what do all seven of us have in common?”

His answer is a bunch of shaking heads and raised eyebrows.

“None of us were born in the Enchanted Forest!” he reminds them.

“Oh my god that’s it!” Henry declares. “Gideon you’ve got it.”

“It sounds right,” Melody says. “But… we’re the only ones in town not born in the Enchanted Forest? Seems a little far-fetched.”

“Not as far fetched as you think, Mel,” Gideon says, beginning to bounce and his eyes light up. “There’s this tradition amongst the older generation to have their kids in the Enchanted Forest. I don’t know sentimentality, or something. So they pop through a portal and go. But none of our parents did. Alex was born during the curse….”

“Thinking about it, all my friends at school were pre-Dark Curse babies,” Alex mutters, getting on Gideon’s level.

“Exactly!” he replies. He grows more animated as the pieces fall into place, reminding Hope of some kind of mad scientist. “Me, Luke and Philip, most of our friends were born during the Missing Year.”

“A lot of Missing Year babies,” Robin confirms.

“Yeah, as the author, I can confirm, Missing Year was a fun time,” Henry says, grimacing.

“And Robin was born in Storybrooke. Which leaves Hope and Melody,” he concludes. “Your parents must have skipped it and had you two in Storybrooke.”

“My parents wanted to,” Mel agrees. “But I came two weeks early. They couldn’t make the trip.”

“My parents just didn’t want to,” Hope agrees. “My mom wasn’t born there; my dad was a villain there. They don’t think of it like a home.”

“So whatever this thing is it clearly doesn’t affect people not born in the Enchanted Forest,” Gideon concludes. On the board behind him, the words ‘non-enchanted forest people’ and ‘NOT A CURSE’ are scrawled. He reminds her of Doctor Whale sometimes in the mad scientist way.

“So how do we fix it?” Alex asks. She sits on the windowsill, her arms wrapped around Robin’s shoulders with Robin’s hand over hers. “How do we wake everyone up?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Henry says. “Maybe we check the library first, there’s books on everything in there.”

“He’s right,” Gideon says.

“And if not then… Then it’s time to turn to our parents.”

“Our parents?” Robin asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Yeah. Robin your mom’s the Wicked Witch, Hope our mom’s the Saviour and Gideon your dad…” Gideon flinches before the sentence can be finished. Henry’s hand curls into a fist, realising he’s inching close to the line. “Anyway, the point is our parents need to have something around to help us.”

“Uhh… guys?” Melody asks from behind them. She crouches in front of the table, eyeing a glass of water with more worry than there should be. “Sorry, but… I think something’s coming.”

And then Hope feels it. The ground shakes beneath her and she can see what Melody was worrying about; ripples form on the water in the glass. Soon the walls of the hall start to shake. They all drift towards each other, clinging to however is closest to them as the walls continue trembling, threatening to break on them. Henry steps in front of the little bundle they have created, trying to shield all of them with his body.

“What is that?” Philip asks, his voice barely a whisper as he frantically looks around the hall.

“I think I know,” Robin replies in a trembling voice. Almost against her own will, Hope follows her eyes and looks out the window, feeling her heart in her throat. Her hand tightens on the wrist of whoever is next to her.

Outside, she sees what Robin was so scared of. Sludge-green, at least 8 feet tall, wearing a scrap of brown fabric its waist. It lumbers down the road before stopping outside and turning its head, letting them see the dull yellow eyes.

“Is that…” Philip whispers.

“An ogre,” Henry replies.

They hit the floor when it turns to them. Hope feels the beat of her frantic heart against the wood and closes her eyes tightly. She presses her palms into the floor to keep them from shaking. Her chest feels hollow, making her heartbeat seem louder.

This can’t be happening. This doesn’t happen, not now, not to her or any of them. This is all meant to be over now.

“What do we do?” Melody hisses as the footsteps get a fraction quieter. “How do we defeat a troll?”

“Wasn’t it in the book?” Philip asks. “Snow and Emma, they fought one.”

“Right,” Hope sighs, searching for that part of the book in her mind. It sounds familiar, but she’s drawing a blank on the details. “How did they beat it?”

“Mom shot it with an arrow,” Lucas reminds them. “Right in the eye.”

“Pity we don’t have a bow and arrow,” Robin grunts.

“Maybe we don’t need one,” Gideon mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

“Do you have a plan?” Philip asks. Out of all of them, he’s the one closest to the floor, his body pressed against it.

“I think so,” Gideon replies, beginning to smile. Hope follows his gaze and sees what he’s looking at; the two swords mounted on the wall behind a shield baring the Charming family crest; a flower. “Hope, Robin, I’m going to need your help here.”

                                                                                               *****

Gideon, Hope, Robin, Lucas and Henry manage to escape the town hall from a side door. The rest stay inside, reckoning that there’s no point in risking more people. Although there’s no risk, because they’ll be fine if this all works out. If.

Outside, the road is destroyed with the ogre’s footprints. He’s a good bit away from them, far enough so that as long as they remain as silent as possible, he won’t notice them until they need to. They move swiftly down the road and take cover behind Leroy’s truck, which, true to character, he left sitting out on the sidewalk.

“You sure this will work?” Lucas asks. Gideon hands the sword over to Robin with shaking hands.

“I hope so,” he sighs. “You two clear on what to do?” Given how dry her mouth is, Hope can only nod.

“We’ve got it,” Robin whispers. Hope wonders how he manages to sound so confident. It’s only her fidgeting fingers that give her away. Gideon smiles weakly at them and follows Henry and Lucas to the middle of the road, grabbing Lucas’ hand.

“Hope,” Robin asks suddenly, grabbing her shoulder. Her green eyes are torn apart with worry as she looks from her to the ogre. “I…. My magic… I don’t know if I can do this…”

“You can,” Hope assures her. “Just think about who you’re protecting. That’s what Mom says she did.” Robin nods shakily and they place their hands over the sword together. She mutters ‘Alex’ under her breath.

“Hey!” Henry yells. “Hey you big… dumb ogre!”

That’s one way to get its attention, Hope thinks as it turns around. Immediately, she starts wondering if this plan will work. If it doesn’t and it gets any of them killed, she’ll kill Gideon for it. Especially if it’s Gideon who gets killed.

“Robin, now,” she hisses. She reaches inside her, calling to her magic. Her mother has told her so many times that magic is a part of her. She works with it, not it for her. And this should be easy, simple levitation. It’s one of her favourite things to do.

In the road, the boys keep taunting the ogre over to them and it works. He lumbers over, slowly, but it rattles the ground with every step he takes. Hope keeps her eyes on it, tracking its movements. They worked out a marker; the shoe shop. That’s where it has to be when they fire at him.

She doesn’t think about what would happen if she misses her cue. All she can focus on is holding the sword up. Especially when she feels it getting heavier on Robin’s side.

Come on, she thinks, watching the ogre as her friends keep luring it closer. Three more steps. Two more. One more….

“Robin now!” she calls, and they send the sword flying through the air. The ogre doesn’t even notice, too busy focussing on the potential snack in front of him. Thank god for dumb ogres.

Then the sword begins to take a dip before it can meet its target.

“Not on my watch,” Hope mutters, and throws her hands out, letting magic run through her veins and out her hands, and she sends an invisible wind to keep it up until it lands where it should; in the ogre’s chest. Slightly left of middle. Right in its heart.

The ogre stops in its tracks, and for a moment doesn’t even move. For a moment, Hope fears that it will rip the sword out of its body and trample Storybrooke to the ground. Until it lets out a long, low moan and sways before falling to the ground, the force knocking them to the ground with it. Hope lies there, winded on her back, looking up at the sky, just letting herself come back down to Earth, before she gets up.

“Hey,” she says to Robin, who looks paler than normal. “Hey, we did it.” She laughs, despite the fact that the world isn’t exactly standing still right now.

“We did it,” she pants, smiling. She pulls Hope into a tight hug before they run over to the boys.

“See? Fool proof,” Gideon says, adjusting his glasses.

“If that failed, I’d have killed you,” Hope pants.

“Are you two okay?” Henry asks, rubbing his arm.

“Fine,” Robin says and Hope nods. Henry tilts his head to the side, unconvinced. “Hope?”

“I’m fine,” she assures him. “A little shaken up I guess, but fine.” She turns her attention to the dead ogre lying in the middle of the street. “Is that it? Did we do it? Does everything go back to normal now?”

“Can’t be,” Gideon says. “Ogres can’t cast curses, they’re too dumb. He has to be working for someone.”

“Great,” Robin sighs. “So who can command ogres? And more to the point, what do we even do with it?”

But as it turns out, they don’t need to do anything. They see a mist begin to settle over the ogre, making it look fuzzier and muting the colours more than they are already. Logically, they should be scared, or ready to fight back, but they’re all varying degrees of confused and mesmerised. The ogre gets fuzzier and fuzzier and the colours fade before running and blending into each other and then Hope realises what’s happening.

“It’s disappearing!” she announces, just as it fades from them entirely.

“No way,” Lucas says, and he runs to where it was, Gideon running after him. Lucas stands in the exact spot it had been lying, jumps up and down and waves his arms around. “It’s gone!”

“So what.. it was never real?” Hope asks. She turns around and sees the footprints in the road.

“The damage it did was real,” Robin points out, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So it had to have been real… Right?”

“We can deal with that later,” Henry says. “For now.. We did good.”

“We?” Hope asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You two did good,” he sighs. “Come on, let’s get you guys back into the hall and we can work this out there.” Hope falls into step beside her brother while Robin walks on with Lucas and Gideon, Gideon letting her lean slightly on him. “You good, Cygnet?”

“I don’t know,” she confesses. “That was a lot. I mean, it felt good, but it was a lot.” She hasn’t realised before that magic can take so much out of her. She just wants to sit down now until the world goes stationery again.

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he says. “For what its worth it was impressive.” Her cheeks go pink.

“Really?” she asks.

“Really,” he says. Slinging his arm around her. She grabs onto his jacket for something to keep her steady, because she’s sure she’s walking like Uncle Smee out of the bar. “Mom will be so stoked when she hears this.” Hope nods. When, not if. Never if. Their family doesn’t do ‘if’.

just seen justice league (this isnt spoiler free at all)

also went to thor: ragnarok for the third time to wash the taste out.

so i went to go see it for miller, momoa, and mera in that order. i was super impressed with mera. i thought they were gonna go the like easy way and give her an Accent like the amazons, but they didnt. even though her cadence was different like idk man i know very little about dc but i picked up a one-shot earlier this year where mera neatly beats the fuck out of the justice league on her own and she’s a semi-jerk who kind of hates surface dwellers and you know what for the thirty seconds we had her onscreen i believed it and she was powerful and felt like a character with backstory and i COMPLETELY didnt hear what aquaman was saying i just heard her side of the conversation

man ben affleck really doesnt wanna be here huh anyway we should recast him at the earliest convenience

also why was batman 90% CGI like fine i get it no one can be a gymnast in a 50 lb rubber suit but like every single one of his moves that required any bending had to have been cgi

speaking of which the cgi isnt like bad in and of itself it’s just typical like it’s the cgi youre used to seeing. it doesnt blend seamlessly into anything and the characters dont blend seamlessly into it. the cornfield looks fake as can fucking be and i dont really know why? what else there was another fucking weird cgi moment. anyway, steppenwolf is ugly as sin and has no emotion and is all one color and is??? generally weird looking

speaking of which. he is not frightening at all. the New Gods isnt something casual dc fans are gonna be familiar with (i am barely familiar with it) and like? apparently, darkseid was supposed to have scenes in this but didnt? anyway go see thor ragnarok which features 1) a horned villain that is legitimately terrifying and powerful, that you fully believe can do the things she does, and who is beautifully designed and 2) features glow-y eyed masses of disposable soldiers that are cool but goofy and dont take themselves too seriously but were still frightening and made for thrilling fights because you believed they could actually pose a threat to the characters they were attacking

the beginning... uh i think like three scenes of the film looked pretty good, but they looked like cutscenes. very GOOD cutscenes, but honestly... if i wanted it to look like this id have played... a video game. like, i want it to look like a real place even if it’s heavily stylized. uh but the first showdown where batman is luring a parademon out looks beautiful if fake as shit. the scene with wondy in the bank (which features a group of girls from an all-girls school... at a bank?) and terrorists wearing cheap pinstripe suits (like, this is fine! it’s nonsensical and stupid but fine it’s a comic book movie) was kind of cool because for once i felt like... maybe diana was a creative person who goes in wit ha strategy? like picking the dude up with the lasso and holding him up was fun i was like oh!!! thats not something a typical movie would do! it was the first time she felt like Wonder Woman to me (ive seen the wondy movie itself, it was... eh). uh and idk what was up with the standing on the scales of justice or whatever idk the hilarity of gal gadot on that statue which sits on top of a bank like. it was funny.

hey question what the uh... fuck was the “what are you” “a believer” line about it made zero sense in context at all

dont quote me on the order of scenes i dont remember fuck all of this movie in order because literally, the pacing was so weird. so... it was very obvious there were parts missing from the movie. not like, cuts made where you could be like oh there was something there or maybe there'll be a deleted scene no like you Knew there was stuff that was necessary that was gone. the football scenes with victor from the trailers were gone!!! i think the movie was trying to set up a really strong friendship with wonder woman and cyborg but it never really went anywhere? and i suspect because it all got cut! and i dont understand why because ray did a really good job and he sold cyborg to me so well i loved his take! 

also... i dont know if theyre saving it for the aquaman movie next year but did Arthur get a bunch of his stuff cut too? because i like jason momoa, and i like his arthur and so im sort of torn because, like, he didnt have much to do. like, he has the bit where he sits on wonder woman’s lasso of thruth and tells them all this stuff but you dont know enough about him for any of it to land? but i really wanted to know more (at some point i did give up on, this was a very passive viewing experience). my friend was saying that like literally why did they try to make arthur so Cool he’s already jason momoa he is by default cool now you can do whatever you want with him we’re all going to love him.

speaking of the lasso scene... was the entire last half of the movie re-writen and re-shot by whedon because like? the lasso scene is a whedon. the bit at the end where wondy goes “children. i work with children” is a whedon (THERE’S NO REASON FOR HER TO SAY THIS? I THINK THIS WHEN SHE HAS TWO TEAM MEMBERS LIKE LAYING ON THE GROUND AFTER NEARLY BEING BLON UP? IT WAS FUCKING WEIRD). i genuinely cant tell if all of barry’s dialogue was written by whedon or if that was ezra improvising but uh... man he’s... he needs to practice if that’s hm. if it’s just whedon i mean fine but he also doesnt have the shitty RDJ quality thats let’s him say those lines with believability.

speaking of which, going to see barry was my priority because apparently im gay for miller rn so like. uh. man he wasnt funny like there were a couple parts where he was cute and the line landed and it was fine but generally he just... wasnt funny? because the movie wasnt funny? like... idk man ezra really acting his heart out and ive said like cool i wanna follow his career and see if he does good stuff and gets even better at his stupid art but maybe he peaked with credence barebone i dont know. the first scene where we meet barry, with the flash pad and the pizza, that was good, that was funny. the bit at the prison was good. he has very soft eyes and thats nice. the panic attack is cute in the clip and the beginning like rhrgrh moment he has is good but then idk the pacing falls apart again

why is his character like this? i just dont think ezra’s... funny enough yet. (tbh i think he takes it too seriously even if he’s trying to be light-hearted man sometimes jokes is just jokes). there’s a bit where theyre digging up superman’s body and it’s JUST HIM AND CYBORG FOR UH? SOME REASON? maybe they explained why they sent the two babies but i didnt hear it and it’s literally just them two. and he tries to fistbump victor but vic is like “no” and tbh barry is annoying? like maybe u think he’s cute and an audience member but he’s uh... you can tell he’s annoying in the story and anyway then the flash says “right, racially charged” ABOUT A FISTBUMP? WHICH? LITERALLY MADE NO SENSE? WAS THIS LINE IMPROVISED? WAS IT WRITTEN? IM GONNA PUT MONEY ON IMPROVISED BECAUSE HE IS EXACTLY THAT KIND OF STUPID BITCH

if they were breaking into the lab why even bother going through the front door? barry drives the thing in (theyre trying to smuggle superman’s body into star labs) disguised a soldier (the literally most unconvincing thing, not to me as an audience member, because it was cute and funny to me,, but that a guy with THAT FACE is military like yeah sure, why did that guard believe him) but then they get to like the normal ass parking inside and the other three are standing there in full costume in full grey DC-brand daylight? are you telling me between 5/6ths of the justice league they couldnt sneak in a fucking pine box when wonder woman can lift a fucking tank on her own? like.

speaking of which uh.... superman is stupidly overpowered. like i said i read an issue of JL where mera hands every one of the justice league members their own gently roasted ass in hand on her fucking own. diana regularly kicks superman in the head. why was she not able to take him down? when theyre fighting steppenwolf for real it’s not until superman shows up that they even have a real fighting chance. they dont fight as team, they dont even fight as people casually unified in a common cause. theyre playing high-stakes legos and cyborg gets pulled away from them like three times?? and it gets fucking annoying? and then supes shows up and literally wipes the floor with him. it is so completely bizarre and stupid.

here’s a problem i still have with wonder woman: why is she so thin? the other amazons (except Hippolyta and maybe one other one) look built as FUCK? LIKE THESE WOMEN COULD EASILY TOSS ME ACROSS THE ROOM. wonder woman has serious fucking arms, where are they

also those amazon bikinis were bad. the whole styling of this movie is bad, but especially the amazons. everything is red and gold, for some reasons? the outfits dont looks heavy like armor, they look heavy like bullshit material. there is no reason for the fucking bikinis. the gold cloak hippolyta wears is??? heavy and looks like? like drapes like window dressing like thats the weight of it. additionally, there is no reason for their hair to be SO STYLED. it’s really like prom night hair it’s like shiny and muss free and always loose and in perfect clearly salon-styled curls. also, why are they so heavily made up? it’s really prominent. wondy herself has the same issue going on, she looks much more heavily made up (why is everyone’s blush so PINK, like it's distracting, is this a side effect of the recoloring process) and her hair isnt loose and doing its thing like in BVS or Wonder Woman it’s like... idk she looks really. Pretty when she’s on the field and it makes no sense.

the amazon fighting style is still ugly and makes no sense ive never seen such a wasteful fighting style it made sense exactly once during Wonder Woman

why is themyscira entirely the ugliest cgi i have ever fucking scene

why does the camera INSIST ON MOVING LIKE THAT. the action is super hard to track, the cgi is ugly as fuck (it really cannot be overstated)... i made it to about... i want to say when theyre on the way to the big fight and then the combined everything gave me a heaache that o had for the rest of the movie

i mentioned earlier that the pacing is weird the transitions are also weird. you get cuts to and from places that never fade into each other, it’s always a hard jump cut but it’s never the right cut to make? like, in thor ragnarok for example, there are a bunch of scene changes that happen via the bifrost, via people going through doors. there are wide shots that jump to wide shots in other places, so youre not suddenly on a close-up. there are a lot of people emerging from something into view, and there are a lof of people being alone in the center of the frame. it’s a very smooth and easy to watch movie. JL is the opposite of this in every way. I SUSPECT. AGAIN. THAT WHILE THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN FIXED ENTIRELY. THAT THOSE EXTRA TWENTY MINUTES THAT WERE CUT WERE PROBABLY REALLY IMPORTANT

the lois lane bit where she calms supes down just reminded me of the age of ultron and i quoted “sun’s going down” at my friends who were with me and they shit themselves laughing

ma kent calls lois lane “thirsty” in a Hilarious Teen Humor Gag thanks joss whedon you fucking hack

bruce wayne is fucking useless he could have got barry ANY JOB EVER and like... my god whatever.

also i still dont understand how how voice sounds like that when he’s batmanuh the after after credits scene is setting up, according to my friend, a sinister six movie. deathstroke isnt played by manu bennett so it’s fucking usless thanks for coming to my ted talk

Happy New Years Love

New Year’s Eve arrived the next day, Jake and you were runnin around gettin your errands done before the Pens party that night in order to not stress about your guys own party the next day. You had just gotten home when you saw that Sid was already waitin for you outside your house. “Sidney, honey, I still have to shower really quick” you guiltily admitted “Its okay! I’ll wait here if you’d like” he replied. The three of you went inside the house in order to get things ready and of course yourself. Jake went up to his room to change so he can get Leila, while you and Sid headed up to your room. Sid had never been in your room, as he went inside he noticed that despite you bein a busy person, your room was very well-organized, you didn’t have any clothes layin around, your bed was made, even your small balcony looked well-kept.. He looked around your room as he saw pictures of your family and friends back home and in Dallas, when you were a kid, you and Tyler at some country concert, then you and Jake on the day of your police academy graduation. He also noticed that you had plenty of sports memorabilia on one side of your room which included your favorite sports; football, baseball, and the best, hockey. The next one had your stuff from the police academy, awards, and your superhero favorites. Sid smiled to himself as he realized that each wall in your room had a theme but you kept it neat and it somehow all tied in together. When you got out of the shower, clean and ready to go, Sid did a double take as he saw how stunnin you looked, for him he didn’t think it was possible for you to look even more amazin. This time you had ditched your boots and traded them in for some high heels. You wore a fittin blue gown with silver heels, your hair was curled in a half updo, you did a natural smokey eye look with red lipstick to seal the deal. Sid lookin at you like he’d never seen you before made you nervous, blush and smile all at the same time. “Too much?” you asked as you scrunched your nose a bit “No, you look perfect baby” Sid said as he walked towards you and twirled you around “I know I have the hottest date tonight” he said proudly ​​​ When you guys arrived at the event right before enterin Sid gave you a passionate kissed and stared at you as if he was goin to say somethin but smiled instead and led you inside. The place was beautiful as it had a 360 view of Pittsburgh, you couldn’t wait to see it at nighttime. Everyone looked stunnin and the men look handsome as ever, you felt as if you were at prom as you were surprised to see everyone dressed up so fancy. Along with the players and their families, Sid’s family was already there. They were eatin dinner as they had held a spot for you guys. When they saw how well you had cleaned up they too did double-takes. “(Y/N), honey! You look...WOW” Trina said as she admired your baby blue gown. “Thank you, you as well Mrs. Crosby!” “Hon, call me Trina” she said and then lowly whispered, “you’ll be Mrs. Crosby soon I hope” You guys had an amazin time as everyone mingled with one another. You and Sid went your separate ways for a while as you talked to the wives about what you’re lookin forward for the new year comin in. Some were talkin about havin babies and other were talkin about you and Sid hopefully gettin married soon. You were enjoyin yourself a lot to relax from work and feel as if everythin in your life was fallin into place, in all aspects. Around 9pm the music turned more energizin as you saw the girls dancin away, they saw you lookin at them so the pulled you in. You weren’t one to really dance in front of people but the booze was helpin you to let loose a bit. You would go back to the dessert table to get a little snack and then head back onto the dance floor. The girls were somewhat surprised at how well you danced and they made sure that Sid was lookin. “Ohhh Crosbyyy!!” yelled one of the girls Sid was standin in a group when he turned to look at you dancin, he smiled to you and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe you were his date. The music then turned softly as you headed to sit down when everyone started pairin up. You and Taylor were in deep conversation about her future when you felt Sid tap on your shoulder. You looked up to him as he tilted his head and eyed the dance floor. “Are you SURE Sidney???” you asked in disbelief. You knew Sid was definitely not a dancer which why you were surprised to him askin you to dance. “WOW Sid” added Taylor “Shush I do dance sometimes” he said defensively “More like never” replied Taylor “Fine, the boys threatened to make fun of me if I didn’t ask you to dance” he admitted “So you’re givin in to peer pressure Cros?” you asked innocently but teasingly “Oh shush come with me or else” “You say ‘or else’ a lot but nothin ever happens” you snarked “Really? You’re ready to find about the' or else' then?” he asked as he leaned in towards your face “Fine” you said as you got up to the dance floor Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran started playin as Sid and you made your way. You’d never danced with Sid before but somehow both of you swayed together perfectly “Y’know, this is nice” Sid said as he looked down at you “Us dancin?” you asked “Yeah, but mostly us bein together” he said “I like this too Sidney” you said as you leaned your head on his chest and closed your eyes as you heard his heartbeat Place your head on my beating heart♪ ♫ ♬​​ “I’m very thankful to have you in my life” he continued, “anddd I hope it stays that way” he added in an almost whisper And the crowds don't remember my name♪ ♫ ♬​​ You looked up at him as he continued, “even when my career is over, I hope it’s you that stays with me through it all” “I will Sidney” you said The countdown was about to start when you guys got in place with your drinks, some of the wives were already tearin up. Pittsburgh looked as stunnin as ever with all the lights on and the fireworks goin across the city and the water. As the countdown started you thought about how you ended up here in the Pit. How you arrived at this place, who you are with, who is now new family that added on, how Sid is the love of your life that you never thought you’d ever experience. Sid thought about the same things, he thought about how this year he was goin to propose to you, he wanted nothin more than to be your husband and the father of your children. 3….2….1… You felt as if everythin went into slow motion, you turned and saw smiling faces everywhere, tears of joy, everyone huggin or kissin each other. You turned to Sid who was a bit teary eyed, you kissed him, he followed the kiss as he put his hand on the back of your head to push you in closer to him. “Happy New Year’s love” he said ecstatically “Happy New Year’s” You hugged everyone as you excused yourself to go out in the balcony. You skyped your family back in California to tell them Happy New Year’s, you showed them how beautiful the Pittsburgh night looked, they however were more intrigued to what you were wearin. When you hung up, you lingered a little longer to take in this view and enjoy the fresh air, even though it wasn’t so fresh because of the fireworks. You were deep in thought when you got startled by someone touchin your arm. Sid smiled at you and kissed you again, he put his arm around you and kissed your forehead That’s when he said it. “(Y/N), I love you” You couldn’t believe what he said, no one had ever said without you doubtin them “I love you too, Sidney” you smiled, almost cryin Sid wiped away the tear and asked “what’s wrong?” “Nothin, baby, I’m just so happy, YOU make me so happy Sidney” You guys kissed again and then stared out into the Pittsburgh night. “Happy New Year’s my love”​​

TRANSCRIPT for Episode 1.03 "Fran & Sidney's Hot & Spicy Black Bean Burgers" (PART 1/2)

 ACT I

[INTRO MUSIC]

ELAINE: Hello again, and welcome to Elaine's Cooking Podcast for the Soul, the cooking show for survivors and thrivers. Yes, these nutrient-dense recipes are achievable in today's modern, bustling--some might say panicked and post-apocalyptic--world...Listeners, change is perhaps the only true constant that life offers. We who have lived through this nuclear-missile-infused year know this all too well. Like a sputtering flame that has not succumbed to ember, so too does our remaining civilization fight for oxygen, frantically dancing for survival. These drastic transformations are as grim as they are inevitable. But  my favorite kind of change takes place in the kitchen with the help of my trusty one-quart saucepan! I'm honored you've chosen to experience this particular change with me. I'm your host, Elaine Martínez. Let's get cooking! 

[MONOTONE SIREN IN DISTANCE]

ELAINE: Oops! Folks, I don't know if you can hear the siren going off in the background, but please rest assured that it is simply a drill of some kind. The real duck and cover alarm hits at a low d-flat that is just--

[SIREN LOWERS TO A LOW D-FLAT]

ELAINE: Like that! Luckily, here at the LA Dental Clinic we have some measures in place to protect ourselves in the case of a nuclear event. They certainly helped get me through the first one. I think I'll just gather up my equipment--there we go, arms are very full, but I think I can make it in one trip--oops, dropped my one-quart saucepan--

[PAN CLANGS]

ELAINE: --And let's retreat back to the tech lab.

[KNOCK AT DOOR]

SIDNEY: Fran, over here. Is anyone in there? 

FRAN: I think I see someone moving. Hey! You've gotta let us in!

ELAINE:Just a moment, listeners.

[CLATTERING OF EQUIPMENT SET DOWN]

[DOOR BELL JINGLES]

ELAINE: Hi, can I help--oh! Excuse me!

SIDNEY: Oh my god, please, you should be excusing us! This is like the tenth place we've tried. Thank you thank you thank you! 

FRAN: You are, for real, our hero. Sidney and I were just practicing tennis at the park and saw the missile zip over Runyon Canyon.

SIDNEY: Yeah, I just delivered a killer return and then the sky just went from its usual gunmetal grey to...what would you call it, Fran?

FRAN: Thick yellow. 

SIDNEY: Right, thick yellow. Then the alarms started. 

ELAINE: Oh my. Here, put these on.

FRAN: A bullet-proof vest? You think that's, like, necessary?

ELAINE: They're radiation vests. Dental technicians use them whenever people get x-rays. 

FRAN: Oh, nice.

SIDNEY: You've got a saferoom, Doc?

ELAINE: Grab some of this cooking stuff and follow me. 

[RECORDING STOPS, RESUMES]

[LAUGHING]

[TENNIS BALLS BOUNCE IN BACKGROUND]

ELAINE: Sorry for the interruption, listeners. It looks as though both me and my new young friends have had some good fortune in finding one another. I had not been able to book a guest due to the most recent 24-hour curfew in place, and these two happened to need shelter while this pesky nuclear event unfolds. Twice in one year! So inconvenient. Anyway, we're here with Sidney and Fran, who are tossing around a couple tennis balls!

SIDNEY: Fran! Stop bouncing!

 

[BALLS STOP BOUNCING]

SIDNEY: Hi! Sidney here. Fran and I host our own podcast, actually.

FRAN: It's called "We're Not Dating."

SIDNEY: Because everyone assumes we are.

FRAN: And we're totally not.

SIDNEY: Fran is like my best friend!

FRAN: Yeah! That's what they've said many times and why I wanted to do the podcast so bad. For like, irony.

SIDNEY: We're not dating guys! Hahaha.

FRAN: No...we're not. Lawl, right?

ELAINE: Well, that's great! Friendship is probably among our most valuable resources these days, after food and water. Speaking of which, you guys said you'd be willing to help me out today with a recipe I've been working on!

SIDNEY: Crossover episode! 

FRAN: Woot wooooot!

ELAINE: Just to paint our listeners a little picture, we are situated in the tech lab-slash-break room here at the LA Dental Clinic. It's a little cramped back here. Sidney and Fran are sitting snugly on the narrow counter to the right of the handwashing sink here, heads slightly tilted to fit under the cabinet that holds a couple of chipped mugs, an open bag of sugar-free mints, and a jar full of left-behind tongue rings we've had to ask people to take out before they go through the x-ray machine.

FRAN/SIDNEY: Ew./Nice.

SIDNEY: What? Mints rule.

ELAINE: I'm perched on a stool with my laptop perched on me, and between us is a three-foot-high stainless steel cart usually used for transporting dental equipment around the office, which I've just now cleared and revamped to help us with our cooking! It is now complete with critical cooking utensils like bowls and spatulas, and topped with our trusty hot plate. Phew, that was a lot of exposition. 

FRAN: Don't forget to mention this model of a set of teeth. I think it likes you, Sid. Mwwwwa!

SIDNEY: I'm closer to dating these fake chompers than I am to dating Fran!

FRAN: You're so funny, Sidney. Like you'd even date me if I asked! Boy, it's very, um, hot in here. Especially with all this gear on.

ELAINE: I suppose it may seem like overkill, but these heavy vests, plus the rubber gloves pulled over our scalps may save us from some severe radiation exposure. Or maybe they won't. Who really knows?

FRAN: I like it. Maybe this will be my prom look. Would you go with me if I looked like this, Sidney?

SIDNEY: Omg can you imagine if we went together?

FRAN: Yeah...people would probably be like "We knew you were dating!"

ELAINE: You guys do really seem to get along and enjoy one another. 

SIDNEY: I'm so glad you get it, Elaine! Everyone is like, so weird about perfectly platonic friendships.

FRAN: They're always so dumb, saying we're totally perfect together or whatever. Stupid.

ELAINE: Well, as long as you guys are on the same page...Listen, we've taken a little extra time with the side chatter this time around, which has been admittedly refreshing after all the isolation, but if you're up for it, I'd love to keep workshopping this recipe! It's a hot and spicy black bean burger.

SIDNEY: That's perfect because Fran is hot!

FRAN: And Sidney's spicy!

ELAINE: And I guess that makes me the burger. I am so glad to have company as the worst of the radiation passes. Last time I didn't see anyone for six days!

FRAN: Yeah, at least we're here with each other.

ELAINE: Awww...oh, you meant Sidney.

FRAN: And you, too! Yeah, I totally meant you as well...it's Elaine, right?

ELAINE: That's right. Now, Sidney, Fran, will you do the honors of reading off the ingredients I've arranged here on the second shelf of this novel cooking cart?

FRAN: We've got one can of refried black beans.

SIDNEY: And then we have one packet of...taco seasoning question mark? We're doing burgers, though, right?

ELAINE: The seasoning packet is just a fast and easy way to achieve a certain flavor. Otherwise, I'd concoct a more curated mix of chili powder, onion powder, garlic powder, oregano, cayenne, and salt and pepper. As it is, the taco seasoning packet is serviceable.

FRAN: I get it. It's like looking at something you've seen all your life in a completely different way. 

ELAINE: Exactly, Fran.

SIDNEY: A jar of minced garlic, a can of chipotle in adobo. Anything else? 

FRAN: Uh...I also see some flour. Is that part of this? I can't be a part of any bread-making activities. They brought in my pop last week, and he hasn't been the same since.

SIDNEY: Well, that's because he's, you know...

FRAN: Dead, sure. Like I said, he really hasn't been the same. Mind you, he was baking bread, so law enforcement officers had no choice.

ELAINE: Oh my...should we...unpack that?

SIDNEY: We're saving it for our own podcast. Tune in next week on "We're Not Dating: Sad Edition"

FRAN: Sidney's right. Our audience is prepared for that kind of heavy stuff, and anyway I'm not quite ready to open that can of worms. Speaking of which, do you have a can opener?

ELAINE: I sure do, it's right...here! Listeners, now that we know our ingredients and are about to go on a can-opening spree, maybe it's a good time for a little break. When we return, we'll create this high-protein veggie burger option with my hip new friends, Sidney and Fran.

SIDNEY: We're not dating, guys!

[MUSICAL TRILL]

END OF ACT I

INTERLUDE/AD BREAK

ELAINE

Water shortage gotcha down? Is your husband constantly coming home thirsty?  Kids antsy from another school day cancelled? Sounds like you could use a Bucket. A Bucket is a handy device that can store up to five gallons of loose water that you can use any time. Simply fill the bucket from whatever source you have--whether that be from the tap on a good day, or from the toilet tank on one of those dreary ones--and enjoy! Bucket can even provide hours of entertainment for your little ones when empty. Don't forget, water must be boiled for five minutes, or sit with four halazone tablets per gallon for an hour before consumption. Bucket can be used to transport snow and ice indoors for the lucky folks up north, or to transport water home on Ration Distribution Day for the rest of us. Buckets can be found behind warehouses, at the Home Depot locations that have not been burnt to the ground, and in almost abandoned public school's janitor closet. Just walk right in and Bucket can be yours! Go get Bucket. 

(sped up in post)

Bucket is to be used with adult supervision, water not included.

UAE: Senior Prank Day may not be an official school event, but students in the UAE have learned to make the best of it over the years. The day is popular across American schools, where students - mainly seniors - prank their teachers and other faculty members a few weeks before graduation. The pranks could be lighthearted and some end up being extreme, where students get suspended or even expelled. Some classic ones include flooding the gymnasium floor with water, filling the hallways with sand and setting rat traps in classrooms. Some schools really discourage Senior Prank Day, while others prepare for the worst. In the UAE, students across different schools have adopted Senior Prank Day and spoke to Khaleej Times about some of their most memorable pranks on faculty. Most of them aren't as extreme as ones that make international headlines - none that we know of so far, at least. Arun Sinnamari, a student in Fujairah, had his teacher arrested by the campus security over false accusations that he had stolen a motorbike - all in the name of a senior prank. "One of our best pranks was when the seniors had our principal arrested with the help of our school security and we recorded it all. The officer managed to convince the principal that his motorcycle was stolen property and that, since he was claiming ownership of it, he would have to go to the station in handcuffs to answer to the cops," Sinnamari said. Another prank he pulled along with his senior class was when they turned one of his school hallway into a beach, a 'classic' prank. "We set up huge tree branches and plants all over the hall and we even installed working fountains. We blasted music and set up umbrellas and beach chairs. None of us went to class all day - we just enjoyed our-selves with kiddie pools and a volleyball/badminton net," he said. Another Dubai student, Angelica Smith (name has been changed as she will be carrying out her senior prank next week), wants to try something "funny". Smith and her peers are going to roast her teacher in front of the entire school body. "My grad class is really set on not doing anything harmful or hurtful to the school or teachers, but something funny. We have a decoy where we give each teacher a cupcake and the icing will basically stain their teeth and then they'll think our prank is over. The next day, at the Sunday assembly, we are going to hijack the AV system and instead of the PowerPoint, we are going to play a roast song video of our teachers and stuff about our school," she said. "While this is happening, all the seniors are going to cover the teachers in silly string." After the teachers and students return to class, they plan to set the alarm clocks in the school ceiling to go off in six classrooms. Senior pranking seems to have come of age in the UAE.

Teachers recall the 'old and bold' pranks

There are light pranks that faculty members have a laugh over. Then, there are the remote few that can get students into a lot of trouble. Dubai student Angelica Smith (name changed), shared an old senior prank from her school that went horribly wrong. Six of her peers were expelled a day before their graduation due to their vile senior prank. "They broke into school after-hours and spray painted the walls; then, in the old VP's office, they spread their own faeces over the walls and her desk," she said. A similar prank had been carried out in another Dubai school a couple of years ago, where the four students were nearly arrested for breaking into school, urinating on their principal's jacket and filling the gymnasium with fire hydrant foam. Besides the few extreme pranks, there are many others that teachers call memorable. Rory Galvin, head of secondary at the Uptown School, remembers a few pranks students at his former school had pulled. "Being a relatively new section of the school, the idea of a senior prank has not yet taken off at Uptown; however, I have experienced senior pranks in some of my other postings," he said. "The old reliables like hiding alarm clocks in the ceilings and air conditioners and having them go off at intervals throughout the day are always good fun. "The principal at this school I worked at came in one morning to find his whole office wrapped in cling film, from the doorway, to his computer, office furniture, the works. One of my favourites is from a school in the US where the seniors hired a Mexican mariachi band to follow the principal around all day. A lot of thinking went into that one."

Extracurricular activities enrich students, enliven school days

(Rebecca Coward, Student Counsellor GEMS Wellington Academy - Al Khail) As the Student Counsellor at GEMS Wellington Academy - Al Khail, I strongly advocate the wellbeing of our students. Working with students, the pressure and stresses that students feel nowadays in an ever-changing world are clear to see. I have found that in order to help students to face these pressures and achieve academically, it is important to create a strong sense of community and promote positive wellbeing in schools. Incorporating different events and activities in school such as special theme days, school trips, non-uniform days, fun days, and extracurricular activities (ECA) help enrich school life, enable students to work together and express their individuality. This creates a healthier, more social, high-spirited and positive atmosphere within the school. School trips are a great way to learn outside of the classroom but, they also have a significant effect on wellbeing and sense of community. They give students a chance to build stronger bonds with fellow classmates, by being able to spend time in small groups, observing, chatting and learning about each other. I have found students who have be-come more positive and happy about school benefit greatly from the experiences they have had on school trips. A Year 5 student said, "I loved all our school trips, I made new friends from different classes who I now play with at break-time every day. Taking part in extra-curricular activities (ECAs), aids student's whole development, as they help to develop a well-rounded, socially skilled and overall healthier student. In-creasing their confidence, self-esteem, motivation, improving time-management and organisation, and importantly helping to reduce any stress or worries that students may be facing, which in turn impacts positively on their academic achievements. Students al-so experience a heightened sense of belonging within the school community, developing life-long friendships with their peers and learning important teamwork skills. The skills that students develop through participating in ECA's benefits students throughout their lifetime. Some of our Year 7/8 students commented "I love ECA's as they make me happy," "I feel like I can get rid of any stress from the day by going to my ECA's and love spending more time with my friends after school. It is important that the achievements and hard work of students are celebrated and recognised throughout the year. This can be done by holding school fun days, where these events can help students to feel appreciated, a part of the community, improve self-confidence and creates important memories. This year, we also held a 'prom' for our first Year 11 students. One Year 11 student had this to say, "I was involved in helping to organise our prom and it really helped give me something to focus on outside of the stress of exams. It was so much fun and a great way to celebrate all the hard work we have put in over the last two years and spend time with our friends; it's a night I will remember forever.

Do you carry out student pranks at your school?

Life is too short to be always serious. While chemistry class is to be taken seriously, we thought our teacher took life too seriously, much like the subject she taught. We planned to lighten her up and put a smile on her face. On her birthday, we contributed to make a portrait of her. smiling. We were glad because from that day, we never had a dull chemistry class." (Shreyasi Dhiren Dutiya, ASPAM Indian International School Sharjah) Days like the senior prank day are important because it gives students the opportunity to let loose and have some fun. They spend most of the days studying and taking exams: this day lets them have some fun. Though I don't think the pranks have to be something extreme, where it lands students in trouble or damages school property, it could be something light and fun. Maybe teachers should also have a prank day, where they prank students. There have been viral videos of teachers pulling April Fool's Day pranks on students. Hamad Ismail, University graduate It's (senior prank day) not very popular here in UAE, among the Indian schools. It's an interesting concept and we would love to have something like that. It' an opportunity to dress up and to have fun. During our hectic academic schedules, such small occasions are the ones most of us look forward to but miss as we do not have such celebrations in our schools. We celebrate our graduation day in whatever ways we can enjoy. (Sreelakshmi. V, Our Own English School Sharjah) © Khaleej Times