#cue: the feeling was friendship but neither had ever experienced it

[fandomsupporter]

i’m sure it’s been said before, but i keep thinking about how if stede had had a genuine friendship in his life before meeting ed, he would have most likely realized his feelings for him were more than platonic way sooner

[bastardlybonkers]

i feel like not enough ppl are factoring in the cultural clash between laios and shuro and the many micro agressions shuro faced while being in their group. literally the name 'shuro' in itself is one

his name is toshiro 😭 lets also not forget that he has his own communication issues, in the opposite way that laios does- thats literally a factor in their argument, that his envy for laios's ability to express himself sincerely manifested as part of his distaste for him.

ig all this to say like, was their fight heart wrenching, especially when reading laios as autistic? absolutely. anybody whos ever been in laios's position knows how much it hurts to realize someone you thought was your friend doesnt actually like having you around, especially when they didnt tell you and you had no way of knowing due to not understanding their cues. but im begging yall to step back and see the nuance of this situation cause im gonna be real a lot of you are kinda just brushing over it acting like everything is toshiros fault and that hes a terrible person when in reality hes an average guy who really, really clashed with laios and it led to a very long misunderstanding due to their supremely opposite methods of communication. even laios and toshiro, after letting everything out in their fight, were able to come to an understanding and start a foundation for an actual friendship built on better communication

ok yknow what Edit: i shouldve made it even more explicit at the end of this post, i hadnt thought i would need to since i started the post with this, but i think a few too many people are missing my point so i just wanna clarify. i shouldnt have said 'really clashed' and left it at that because yeah they did, but it wasnt just their opposite methods of communication, it is also very much that toshiro was experiencing microaggressions via laios. it may have been unintentional on laios's part, but it still happened and wore him down, made it harder for him to communicate on top of both the more subtle social cues that he was raised with and his own communication difficulties. i also want to say that the fandom reaction to toshiro and the complete ignorance of this point is also racist tbh or at the very least ignorant. i understand that the anime did not cover this panel, and neither did the manga, as this was an omake, but im gonna be real with you guys. there are enough context clues within the story to clue you into this. if you didnt pick up on it thats ok, but i think this is a good lesson in picking up subtext in the stories that youre watching and/or reading. kui shouldnt have to explicitly say 'by the way laios was racist to toshiro' for this point to be understood, and at the very least, when the author portrays a character in a sympathetic light (as kui clearly does) it should make you question Why they are doing so and what makes them sympathetic, rather than youre immediate and only reaction to be 'well i hated what this guy did/said so i hate them and they suck'. idk exactly how to finish this, just. idk. question your biases and gut reactions to things you see in media and stories, and think about whether or not theres subtext that youre missing.

[corvidgames]

#6 The Vale: Shadow of the Crown

Holy shit this game was good.

The Vale is a game that was created to first and foremost be accessible to the blind community. And, because I am neither blind nor directly associated with anyone who is that I could share this game with, I can't comment all too much on it's achievements in that manner. But, that being said, the entire game can be played without any vision. As a sighted player I spent 90% of my playthrough playing with my eyes closed. The main character is entirely blind, and as such there is no visual information presented on the screed throughout. Instead, we play entirely through her experience of life.

Using a mix of spatial audio and haptic feedback through the Xbox controller, The Vale draws you into a vibrant and beautifully described world with all the best writing of a fantasy novel. Except this time, you get to be the hero! Which... I know... Is pretty much the entire point of any fantasy RPG, but hear me out.

Get it... hear... it's an audio only game... okok I'll see myself out.

Anyway...

Using audio cues to distinguish the attacks of enemies and react in turn without being able to see a thing on screen felt amazing. I've seen mixed reviews regarding the combat system for this game, with some people finding it repetitive, but I never felt that way. The game is always implementing new enemy attack patterns and new methods to defend/fight back up until almost the last two hours of the plot.

The music was great, and the storyline was charming and incredibly well written, and I found myself feeling incredibly in tune with the progression of the main character. Stumbling into a whole new world with no vision to guide me and no idea how to fight and yet slowly piecing together how to best work with my strengths (that being hearing) to defy expectations was incredibly satisfying. The growing friendship between Alex and Shepard was heart-warming and I found myself crying by the time the story had ended.

The experience of playing The Vale is not one that I can say everyone would enjoy, but it's one that I would implore anyone to at least try if they get the chance. I don't think I'll ever get the chance to experience something quite like it again.

And if you don't want to invest time into playing it, there are entire playthroughs that can be listened to as essentially audiobooks on Youtube. I'll link one to this post just in case I can claw anyone into experiencing a sliver of what I just played. Listening to a recording of it will never quite match the visceral feeling of playing it yourself, but it's at the very least a good indication of if you think this game would be for you.

Date of completion: 16/03/2024

Genre: Action Adventure / Action RPG

Time to beat: 10hrs 54m

Level of completion: Main plot + most side quests

Trophies/Gamerscore: 8/10 700G

1-100 rating: 100%

Platform: Series X

[shivanixrao]

“Attract. That’s an interesting word choice there Axel,” she teased as she leaned in slightly once more before shrugging, “you’re just a good person even if you don’t show that to everyone in life…I see it and I admire it.” That was the truth, Shivani inherently attracted those types of people into her life and that’s how she knew Axel was one of the good guys even if he didn’t believe in that for himself. “Plus—you saved me from a very embarrassing situation, so from that moment onwards, you became my savior.” Her voice dropped lower as she said those words. “But in all honesty—when we clicked, I just knew that you were someone I’d want in my life for a very long time and I’m so glad we’ve been able to stay friends.” 

Even if sometimes she wondered about why neither of them had ever…crossed that line. But she chalked that up to believing that firstly she wasn’t his type at all, and that he just wasn’t interested in her that way. Her crush that had formed from the first time they met…had gradually started to fade once their friendship grew stronger and that was that. “Oh you know I’m going to be laughing and probably recording it to show at your wedding too,” she chuckled softly before giving him a casual little wink. “But yes you’re slightly tipsy and that just means we’re in for a fun night but yes you also are very charming and flirtatious, believe me—I’ve noticed.” Shivani didn’t say it but she was sure as soon as she left to get them more drinks, their table would be swarmed with the girls who had been noticing him—something she was honestly used to now whenever they went out back in New York City.

Luckily for her, when she returned there was no one there, or maybe he’d shooed them all way. Either way she was glad for the quiet as she asked him about his thoughts on Wilmington. “Oh it’s a huge drastic change,” she chuckled before taking a sip from her glass. All the feelings he was experiencing were similar to ones she’d felt as well but when he spoke about the move being worth it because he missed her, she found herself giving him another wide smile. “Axel…you’re going to make me all sentimental now,” she admitted before sighing at his question. He was right—he did know her too well to know when she was keeping something from him. “Of course I know I can always talk to you, I just—sometimes I feel guilty burdening you with my problems because…well you don’t have these types of problems,” she admitted with a soft laugh before she explained. 

“Business could be better, we don’t have as many new students as I’d hoped and—I think my parents aren’t doing all that well business-wise either. They’ve had to…sell one of the motels.” She lowered her gaze now to the drink in front of her, not wanting to look into his eyes and see that familiar warmth that almost always made her weep when she was feeling this way. Shivani didn’t break down in front of most people. Nor did she lose her sunny personality in front of others—but with Axel, she trusted him enough to let him see every single facet to her personality and that meant he’d seen her cry more than her parents ever had. He’d seen her vulnerable and tired and weak and just feeling like a failure and nearly every single time it was that look in his eyes that would cue the tears to fall and she didn’t want that to happen, not here in TRIC.

He smirked as they continued their banter. Above all else, Axel was grateful for their friendship. She anchored him, and brought him back down whenever he was on the verge of spiraling. He needed someone like her in his life and appreciated that she saw past what he could give her. For some reason, she loved him for who he was as a person, quirks and all—which still surprised him to this day. "I’m glad I could somehow attract you enough to stay in my life. Most would have bolted by now." There was a shift within him as they joked about being a power couple. And when he leaned in closer, his gaze drifted to her full lips. It left him wondering what it would be like to close the distance and kiss her. The thought sent butterflies to flutter in his stomach. Nope. Not going there. Shivani was his best friend, and he didn't want to risk ruining what they had by crossing that line. 

Clearing his throat, he sat back and nodded as she spoke about dancing. "I guess... The letting go part is going to be a bit tricky for me. But with you, I’ll always have fun. I'll give it a shot, but only if you promise not to laugh too hard when I trip over my own feet." Who was he kidding, she probably would make fun of him. And he wouldn’t even be mad at her for it. He feigned offense when she asked about him being tipsy. "Me? Tipsy? Never. I'm just naturally charming and flirtatious, or haven't you noticed?" He winked at her, finding it easier to be around her than most. In the same breath, he did feel guilty that he might end up upending her life here. 

His mind pondered as she left to get them more drinks. He’d come so far, acquiring property after property, but there was still so much work to be done. When she returned and asked about his move, he forced a smile. "The move has been...interesting. It's a big change from big city life, but I'm adjusting. And yeah, I definitely miss the city sometimes. The energy, the people, the food...but it’s worth it because I’ve missed having you around all the time." He took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. "But You said business is okay. It doesn’t sound sincere. You forget I know you well. Something's bothering you, isn't it? You know you can always talk to me, right?" 

[homosexuality-at-its-finest]

To love a hero

A/n: So I'm really sad right now and I'm gonna project that onto my writings, sorry in advance

Plot: Loving a hero is a difficult and heart wrenching task

Pairing: Peter parker x male reader

Y/n: Your name

L/n: Last name

N/n: Nickname

H/c: Hair color

Warnings: lotta angst, happy ending because I’m not a monster, cussing, major character injury

Word count: 1774

Y/n L/n and Peter Parker went way back, even farther than Peter and Ned. The two had been friends since Pre-K, and only grew closer as the years went by. The two were almost interpretable, if one of the boys was seen, the other was close by.

No one really understood their friendship, but no one questioned it either. In high school the two boys became impossibly closer, Y/n was the first to know about Peter’s abilities, the brunette couldn’t keep something so big from his best friend. Y/n was there and helped make his first suit, the boy was there to soothe his aching bones and to nurse his blossoming bruises.

The pair shared an unbreakable bond, they were what love stories depicted. The love between them was seen by everyone but the two. Of course, Peter knew he was in love with Y/n and vice versa, but for two genius’ they were both dumbasses. Hell, even Tony stark noticed the young love blossoming, the billionaire could see how much the pair adored each other.  

On multiple occasions he’d tried to coerce the young superhero into admitting his feelings but was always given the same response.

“Y/n doesn’t like me like that Mr. Stark, I’m not ruining our friendship over my feelings.” Simple and to the point, but it drove Tony insane that the young genius was so fucking blind. He opted against bringing it up again after seeing such clear pain in Peter’s eyes every time they talked about it, being a bystander as time passed by.

Maybe Peter couldn’t see how enamored Y/n was with him, but Tony could. Especially as he clutched the said boy against his chest as he let out guttural and heart wrenching sobs.

It had all started off as a normal Saturday, Peter was over at Y/n’s the two sitting on the couch and watching some unknown movie, it was purely background noise. The two boys were to focused on each other and their conversation to care about the movie. The domestic peace was ruined by Peter’s phone chiming, a familiar sound that always caused dread to run down Y/n’s spine.

It was the sound of Peter’s police scanner, hearing the radio chatter begin. “Unknown entity in central park, currently creating a perimeter and pushing back civilians, backup requested.” The look of determination crossed over Peter’s features, and if Y/n knew Peter would listen, he’d beg for him to let the avengers take care of it.

“That’s my cue, I’ll see you later N/n!” Peter did a mock salute to his best friend, easily escaping the home via window. For some unknown reason Y/n felt on edge, his gut tightening painfully. He immediately flicked on the news, only having to wait a few moments before the familiar figure of spiderman flung into frame.

The fight was nerve wrecking, watching as the Villain and superhero alike exchanged punches and kicks, and Y/n knew Peter was probably making stupid quips to keep his anxiety under control. The H/c haired boy gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched the fight escalate, getting more violent by the second.

The villain had hit Peter with all their might, and Y/n could only watch as the boy he loved more than anything was flung against a building before he crumpled to the ground. It was as the world stood still, stealing all the breath from Y/n’s lungs as the figure of spiderman didn’t budge, he didn’t get up. Peter promised he’d always get back up.

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, air was to thick to breathe and he could feel the moisture running down his face and the devastated cry that left his lips went unheard. The boy couldn’t really remember when Happy arrived at his house, a grim expression on his face as he looked at the disheveled teenager.

Y/n couldn’t remember the drive to the compound, it was as if his brain had just shut down, leaving him devoid of any life. Maybe that’s what Peter was like right now, devoid of life. His constant chatter silenced, his jittery movements stilled, his beautiful face pulled into the blank look of death.

The teenage boy could remember that Happy had to pull over so Y/n could vomit on the side of the road, silent sobs clenching his lungs in their vice. Never in all of his short life had he felt so much pain, never had he begged for the sweet release of darkness as he did now.

The H/c haired boy begged any god that would listen for this to be a nightmare, that he’d wake up and he and Peter would still be on the couch. The brunette would tease him for falling asleep, but he’d take anything to make this pain go away.

When he finally got to the compound and saw Tony waiting, the same grim look on his face as happy, it felt like every last shred of his strength and control was gone. Y/n collapsed into Tony’s arms, breaking into pieces. He only processed a few words “surgery” “critical” and “I’m so sorry.” Everything blended together as the billionaire led him to the medical wing, holding onto the breaking teenager, as if his touch would mend him.

Hours felt like eternity, it was hellish. The sobs that once left the teenager were turned into deafening silence, the occasional sniffle leaving the boy, comforting Tony that the child was in fact still alive.

May had shown up at some point, Y/n couldn’t honestly remember when, or honestly care. Not when he felt like part of himself was missing, leaving a gaping hole where Peter once was.

Good news came in the form of a doctor informing them, at hour 4 of waiting, that Peter had survived the surgery and was now stable. If it wasn’t for his healing factor, the teenager would’ve been dead. He was under sedatives currently, so his body could work solely on healing.

It felt like a weight off of everyone’s chest, he was okay, alive and breathing. The 3 walked in silence to Peter’s room, May and Y/n taking their respective sides on Peter, as Tony sat at the foot of the bed.

Hours were spent in silence, May haven fallen asleep not to long after receiving the news that Peter was okay. Tony and Y/n stayed awake, both lost in their own thoughts. The teenager held Peter’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles silently. His eyes rarely left the still form, scared that if he looked away the boy would disappear from his grasp.

“Yknow what sucks about loving a hero?” Y/n’s broken voice cut through the silence, starling Tony from his thoughts. He didn’t reply, his gaze falling on the teenager. Y/n looked over at Tony and fuck that look should never be on a child. He looked so broken, so tired.

“I know he’s going to die long before me, and I’ll be stuck in this fucked up world without him.” A humorless laugh broke through the boys’ lips, it sounded watery and oh so broken. “I’m not ready to live without him Tony.” A quiet sob left his lips, his free hand going to stifle it.

“I love him so much, and it scares me so fucking bad.” Y/n’s eyes moved back over to Peter, shakily bringing the sleeping boy’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Tony felt his chest tighten painfully; this was really a reminder that they were just kids who grew up way to fast.

“He’s not going to die Y/n, not if I have anything to say about it.” Tony replied in a surprisingly gentle but determined tone. He’d be damned if he let this pair get separated, Peter and Y/n deserved to be together. To grow up together and create a life.

The room fell into silence after that, neither of them wanting to broach the topic again. In the early hours of the morning Peter’s doe like eyes opened once more. Every inch of his body ached with an indescribable pain, and he had to hold back a grimace. He was surprised to see the 3 most important people in his life strewn about the room, two fast asleep. Y/n was still awake though, clasping Peter’s hand like a lifeline has his tired eyes burned into the sheets.

Peter gave his best friends hand a gentle squeeze, but it was enough for the boy’s head to shoot up so fast Peter was scared he’d get whiplash. “Peter! Oh, thank God.” The H/c haired boy breathed out, and even through his eyes were red and puffy from tears and purple bags so dark they looked like bruises bloomed under his eyes, he was still the most gorgeous creature Peter had ever seen.

Peter gave a weak smile, squeezing his hand once more. “How long have I been out?” He questioned; head tipped to the side like a curious puppy. “About 12 hours.” Y/n replied, voice cracking slightly.

The gentle aura Y/n held around him quickly disappeared into one of anger. “If you ever do that to me again Peter I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” Y/n spit out angrily, but the anger was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“I thought you died, and that was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I love you, and I’d rather you be with the land of the living.” The confession was made by a boy to tired to process he had said it.

Peter felt a wave of guilt crash over him at the boy’s confession. He knew now wasn’t the time to talk on the subject. “I’m okay N/n and trust me I won’t be doing that again any time soon. Why don’t we sleep and talk again in the morning?”

Peter was exhausted, and he knew his best friend was too, they could talk about this at a later date. As Y/n made a sound of agreement, laying his head against the mattress, Peter knew that everything would be okay. It didn’t matter what horrors he faced, or what pain he went through. He had made a promise to Y/n. He’d get up every time, and he’d be damned if he ever made the Boy he loved go through that pain again.

[minkoobi]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

⤳ pairing: gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!reader ⤳ genre: rivals to lovers, fluff, slight angst ⤳ word count: 11.5k ⤳ summary: jeon jungkoook, quidditch rival and former best friend, attempts to rekindle your lost friendship- and maybe something more

The gates slowly rise up and you are met with the sun nearly blinding you. With one quick glance to your teammates, you hop on your broomstick and fly up and above the quidditch pitch. Students from different houses were cheering, waving flags and chanting with all their might.

“Slytherin! Slytherin!”

You soar above them with pride and confidence. Quidditch has always been more than a sport to you. It was your calling- your passion. You were the best player in your team after all, earning you the title of being Slytherin’s team captain. You have led your team to many wins, but also shared your losses, specifically against this one team.

As if on cue, the opposing team makes their entrance, flying around the pitch with smiles on their faces, one which caught your attention almost immediately. 

That toothy grin with his nose scrunched up and eyes turned into crescents- they could only be that of Jeon Jungkook’s, Gryffindor’s team captain and best player. Simply put, he was your rival. You both had the position of being a chaser and are both known for being extremely competitive. 

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

You can see his smile grow bigger and you almost scowl at how easily his ego was boosted. But if you were being honest, you didn’t hate the guy, just disappointed at how your relationship turned out to be.

First Year 

“Up.”

And just like that, your broomstick met your palm in an instant. Pride fills you at how easily you’ve done the task at hand. You were really looking forward to Flying Classes since it’s a step closer to learning quidditch. 

To your left, the boy kept summoning his broomstick, having it float for a millisecond before it drops to the ground again. His fringe hung over his eyes but you could still make up his furrowed eyebrows. He groans in dismay and you can’t help but giggle.

“You have to put more force into it.”

The boy looks at you, eyes wide and a little flustered by the fact that you were watching him. You give him a small smile and a nod as if telling him to give it a try. He gulps before focusing on the broomstick and with one stern ’up’, he had it in his hand. 

“Thanks!” the nameless boy smiles sheepishly. 

“It’s nothing. I’m Y/N by the way,” You reach your hand out to him and he gives it a good shake.

“Jungkook.”

“Don’t zone out now Y/N, you wouldn’t want to lose to me again would you?” Jungkook smirks as he flies over to his side of the pitch. You notice Madam Hooch walking towards the wooden chest at the center of the field. The game’s about to start. You position yourself right across from Jungkook and mirror his smug look. “Wouldn’t dream about it.”

Madam Hooch blows on her whistle and throws the quaffle up into the air. Almost effortlessly, you catch it before darting towards the opposing goal. You see red come up from both your sides and as they near you, you throw the quaffle up into the air before your fellow teammate catches it and shoots it into the ring. A bell is heard and the commentator yells “ Slytherin scores first with 10 points!”

“Beaters, get the bludgers! Leave her to me,” Jungkook yells at his teammates before flying right behind your broomstick’s tail. It takes him no longer than a second until he is beside you and a little too close for your liking. You knew he was taunting you.

“You’re being too predictable nowadays,” his arrogance annoys you and you spare him a quick glance. 

“I know how this will work out. You’ll have your little snakes catch the ball and have them hand it to you so you can make your goal.” From the corner of your eye, you see your teammate wave a hand at you. Without saying a word, you dart towards their direction and as he throws the ball towards you, Jungkook cuts in between and grabs the quaffle with one hand. He turns his head to face you. “Like I said, predictable.” He speeds towards your goal post and effortlessly shoots it through the ring.

“Yes! 10 points to Gryffindor!” The crowd goes wild as the scores are now tied. Your anger builds up and your determination to win adds up to your adrenaline. “Keeper, don’t let them score,” you say calmly as you fly up higher to the sky. From there you could see everything clearly. You observe your opposing team and are quick to catch on to their tactic. Turns out Jungkook was just as predictable as you. 

You make your way to your teammates, sending them a look before spreading out. The Gryffindor team looked confused, watching you all fly aimlessly around them. As the distraction goes on, you and your closest teammate, Seulgi, fly up to Jungkook and trap him between your broomsticks. He is unable to nudge away from you two and causes him to lose his grip on the quaffle. You take this opportunity to snatch it off his hands and shoot it to their ring. Another bell is heard and Slytherin is leading again. “And I thought I was too predictable,” you mock Jungkook’s tone before flying away.

The game progresses intensely and everyone is on the edge of their seat, clearly intrigued by the feud between you and Jungkook. Points were scored here and there and it wasn’t until the commentator  announced Slytherin’s win when you noticed your seeker holding the golden snitch. The students from your house were up on their seats, yelling in victory. We did it. I won against Jeon Jungkook. The thought alone made you so happy, you didn’t notice the latter flew closer to you. 

“Good game, Y/N,” Jungkook says without any trace of sarcasm and you send him a small smile before going back to celebrating your team’s win. 

Second Year

You practically slam the common room door behind you and rush to Jungkook’s side. “I am so so sorry for taking so long, I just misplaced my book somewhere and-“

“Yeah yeah, apologize later. We’re late for Potions Class!” The two of you make a run for it down the hallway, pushing past other students and earning weird looks from them. Professor Granger will not let this slide and will probably give you both extra work. You could already picture the cold, mean scowl on her face.

“I can’t believe you made me wait for you outside your dormitory. Do you know how many times I’ve been glared at by your fellow snakes? I could’ve sworn one of them was trying to hex me,” Jungkook pants as you both continue to sprint down the corridor. 

“Shut it Jeon, this is just payback for when you made me late for Herbology.”

“That was a lame class anyway, you would’ve stayed in the courtyard with me if I didn’t remind you of the time.” 

The two of you finally reach your classroom and as you step inside, you were fairly surprised to see that Professor Granger hasn’t arrived yet. “Wow, and I thought we were in trouble,” says Jungkook, clearly relieved. Just then, the door slams behind you. Both of you make a slow dramatic turn to see narrowed eyes looking down at you two. 

“You’re late.”

Looking back, you can’t really pin-point where things started to go downhill between you two. You were practically inseparable, never found without the other. 

During your first two years in Hogwarts, he was your companion as you were his. You both experienced getting lost in the hallways, going up the wrong flight of stairs (they always switch when you least expect them to), and getting spooked by the house ghosts who randomly pop out of walls. Jungkook was also your partner when it came to learning quidditch, since you two shared the same love for the sport.

But as third year came along, things slowly began to change. Jungkook started to gain the attention of many students and even professors. He became known for his exceptional skills in quidditch and everyone was certain that professional teams were already lined up to scout him. You on the other hand, didn’t receive any less recognition. Students, especially younger girls, looked up to you. Many have assumed that you already have a spot reserved in the Holyhead Harpies team, but you chose to stay away from that spotlight and simply focus on perfecting your skills. 

But you can tell Jungkook is doing the exact opposite. You can see it in the way he enjoys having to carry a box of sweets and a dozen letters covered in pink and red hearts back to his dormitory almost everyday after class. It’s obvious in the way his cheeks flush pink when he walks in a room and girls start to gush over him. 

Your differences with one another become more apparent, causing both of you to spend less time together, which eventually comes to a halt all together. Keeping in touch with each other was no longer a priority and neither of you tried to change that.

Maybe you both simply grew up, or rather, grew apart.

It’s a sad yet inevitable ending, you’ll admit that. But as you continue to stare at the boy surrounded by his rowdy group of friends in the Great Hall who sat not too far from you, you can’t help but feel a sense of longing.

“Y/N, did you even hear a word I said?”

“Huh? Sorry I didn't catch that,” you switch your attention back to your friends, hoping they didn’t notice you just now.

“It’s that Jungkook guy isn’t it.”

“No it’s not.”

“Oh the hell it is! You were practically gawking at him,” your friend imitates your expression, erupting a fit of laughter around you.

“Whatever Wendy, it’s not like you don’t do the same when it comes to Mark.”

“Hey at least I admit it.”

“What happened to you two anyway? You guys were like, best buds two years ago,” Seulgi remembers meeting up with you two in the library and finding it odd for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be so close. Now you’re in your fifth year and your conversations with Jungkook only ever happen when you’re both in the pitch. You weren’t even sure if you could consider them as conversations since all you ever say to each other are insults and sarcastic blows. 

“I don’t know, his head grew the size of a hippogriff and suddenly he’s too cool to be my friend,” you shrug as you take a bite off your bagel. Jungkook still holds a special place in your life but you’re never going to admit that. Despite everything that happened between you two, he’ll always be that kid who had a hard time summoning his broomstick. 

“What a tragic love story,” Wendy feigns pain, placing a hand over her chest before giggling. “But back to the main topic at hand, you and I still need to find a date.” That’s right, the Celestial Ball was just around the corner and you couldn’t care less about who to go with.

“Can’t I just fly solo? It’s not like anyone wants to take me anyway.”

“Might wanna rethink that statement Y/N,” Seulgi grins as she nods towards Jungkook’s direction. You turn back to see him staring right at you. He doesn’t even break his gaze, as if he was studying every little detail on your face. The intimacy of the situation was too much for you, so you look away. 

On any given day, you would love to hang out in the courtyard. The gentle breeze and overall ambiance of the place was just the perfect setting for you to relax and even read a book in. But with the Celestial Ball only two weeks away, it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see the place filled with students and couples asking each other to be their dates. And no, you weren’t some bitter bystander who despised the thought of young love, but there’s a fine line between appropriate display of affection and snogging behind a tree. 

You’ve just about had it and was about to give up on having some peaceful alone time when a shadow towers over you. You look up to see a boy with black and gold draping over his shoulders and a grin you could’ve easily mistaken for the sun.

“Hey! How’s my favorite chaser doing?”

Kim Seokmin, 6th year Hufflepuff and head boy. You knew each other from past quidditch games and were fairly acquainted with one another. He was his team’s keeper and with his tall, lean frame, you remember it being almost impossible getting a ball through their ring. Unfortunately, he got severely injured on his left leg from a game during a thunderstorm last year and has stopped playing since then. It’s a shame because he was one of the best players in all of Hogwarts.

“Not any better now that you’re here,” you jokingly respond. Seokmin simply chuckles at this and takes up the space next to yours on the bench.

“Aww c’mon, just because you won against Gryffindor you’re suddenly too good for me? I am hurt Y/N,” Seokmin clutches his chest in exaggerated pain, erupting a giggle from you as you grab the end of his scarf and swat it across his face. 

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I got you to laugh though,” he wraps an arm around your shoulders and your eyes slightly widen at the unexpected contact. It’s very clear to you now how this guy was placed in Hufflepuff with his tangible enthusiasm radiating off of him. Looking at him now, you couldn’t help but notice how the yellow of his robes match his skin tone and the crinkle of his eyes when he smiles were the perfect embodiment of his House.

“Listen, I actually came up to you cause I have something important to ask,” he spoke in a lower, more serious tone this time.

“What is it?”

“Well.. with the ball coming up and from what I know, you currently don't have a date, i was just wondering if maybe.. you would want to go with me?” Seokmin glances over to your bewildered face, waiting for a response. You were definitely not expecting to be asked out, let alone by a 6th year student you’ve rarely talked to. As you internally debate on an answer, a voice startles you from behind.

“Y/N! I have been looking for you everywhere!” Jungkook sneaks up to you two from behind a pillar, effectively getting Seokmin to remove his arm from you out of shock. The doe eyed boy continues to nudge himself between you two, taking a seat on the already crowded bench.

“I should probably go, but let me know as soon as possible alright? See ya around,” Seokmin sends you a quick wink before jogging back to his group of friends.

“What’s up with you and Donkey Kong?” Jungkook lays across the bench and rests his head on your lap, placing his forearm over his eyes.

“First of all, it’s Seokmin, and second, what makes you think you can use me as your personal pillow?”

“Do you like him?” he asks, completely ignoring your retaliation.

“That’s none of your business Jungkook.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“Why does it even matter to you?”

“He’s older than you.”

“He’s literally just a year above us and only a few months older than you.”

“Jeez now you’re defending him? Someone’s whipped,” Jungkook lowers his arm to send you a disgusted look, making you shove him off your lap. You’re satisfied to hear a muted thud as he lands on the ground.

“Whoever I like and dislike is not important, so drop it m’kay?” You’ve always hated confrontations since you were never really good at coming to terms with your own feelings. Yes, Seokmin may be a sweet guy, but having Jungkook press an answer out of you was very irritating. You get up to leave immediately when Jungkook grabs your wrist.

“Wait, what’s your next class?”

“I’m done for the day, I’m headed back to my dorm.” 

“I’ll walk you back.” Jungkook doesn’t even wait for you to decline his offer as he practically drags you down the corridor. Only when you stop resisting is when Jungkook drops his grip on you. 

The walk to your dorm was suffocatingly silent. It wasn’t because you were awkward around him, not at all. You’ve strolled around the castle together in silence multiple times yet this moment felt very new to you. Walking next to him, you notice how much taller he’s grown and how his shoulders have broadened, jawline more prominent and wavy hair just perfectly resting over his eyebrows. It felt like being next to a whole different person. But as he glances at you with those all too familiar eyes of his, you were certain that nothing has changed. That kid you once called your best friend was still in him.

“Dude, I know you hate me but you gotta stop shooting invisible lasers to my head.” There’s a small hop to his steps and you realize just how much you actually miss him.

“I don’t hate you.” You say this mostly to yourself but Jungkook hears it. He holds back the smile that creeps up to his lips, clearing his throat to break the tension between you two.

As much as you enjoyed having him around, your mind starts to go on overdrive. It has literally been years since the two of you hung out like this, so what’s with the sudden change? Losing touch with him was one of the worst things to have ever happened to you and you’re not sure if you ever want to experience that again. All those times of wondering what went wrong and blaming yourself for not being good enough of a friend came flashing back, causing you to stop on your tracks. It takes Jungkook a second to notice that you’ve trailed behind him before he turns to you. “You alright Y/N?”

“Why are you doing this?” Your eyes stay glued to the ground as you fidget on the sleeves of your robes, a habit of yours whenever you were nervous and Jungkook was quick to notice this.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t walked me back to my dorm in 2 years. Why are you doing this?” Jungkook remains silent. The truth is he knew exactly why, but he didn't know what took him so long to do so. Disappointed in his lack of his response, you trudge past him.

“Forget it, I can walk back from here. You can go.” You don’t even spare him a glance as you make your way down the stairs to the dungeon. Jungkook remains frozen in his spot as he watches your figure disappear before him, smacking the side of his head in annoyance. He may be confident and self-assured when it comes to quidditch, but dealing with you was a whole other ball game. He glances to his wristwatch before sprinting down the hallway to his Transfiguration class, which he purposely skipped on to accompany you to your dorm.

You couldn’t sleep that night. It was 2am and you have been tossing and turning in your bed for an hour now, causing a few groans and complaints from your roommates. You knew there was no point in trying to get some sleep so you quickly grab your sweater and broomstick before quietly sneaking out of the common room. After years of learning Mr. Filch’s schedule, you knew he was probably wandering around the Ravenclaw Tower by now. 

Sneaking off to the quidditch pitch was something you frequently did whenever you felt troubled and needed a place to clear your mind. Something about being in that enclosed field just puts your mind at ease, whether it be flying around it or sitting on the bleachers. You make your way to the center of the pitch and look up at the towering rings that used to intimidate you. With the stars out in the midnight sky, it takes you back to the first time you and Jungkook snuck out here past curfew hours as curious first year students.

“Woah, they’re so much taller than i thought!” You practically gawk at the sky high goal posts. “Can you imagine flying any higher than that?”

“Please, one day I’m gonna fly soooo far up the sky, I bet you I can grab a star,” Jungkook muses, crossing his arms over his chest in fake arrogance.

“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s impossible,” you shake your head at the absurdity of his words.

“You underestimate my skills Y/N! Mark my words, one day I’m gonna grab all the stars in the sky and give them to you.” The confidence in his voice was so endearing, you unconsciously held onto the promise.

“Learn how to fly better than me first,” you playfully shove him before running across the field, having him chase after you. 

Mr. Filch catches you two that night, landing both of you a whole week of detention. You smile at the bittersweet memory as you position yourself on your broomstick. How naive were you back then to assume he’d remain in your life forever. People eventually grow apart, you know this now as you soar above the quidditch pitch and fail to reach for a star.

It’s been a week since you last spoke to Jungkook and you rarely get to see him nowadays. The only times you did were during lunch and dinner in the great hall or in some of your shared classes. He was avoiding you, you knew that much, but you couldn't understand why it left a hole in your chest. This wasn’t anything new to you. Both of you rarely exchanged words with one another ever since you drifted apart, but to see him purposely avoid you bothered you more than you would like to admit.

“Y/N,” Seulgi snaps her fingers across your face to get your attention. You have been zoning out again.

“Hm?”

“Your potion,” You glance down to your cauldron to see its liquids overflowing and spilling on your work desk. You quickly grab the washcloth to clean up your mess, a bit irritated at how you screwed up.

“What’s gotten into you lately? It’s not like you to space out like that,” you can hear the worry in Seulgi’s voice but quickly dismiss her with a wave of your hand.

“It’s nothing, just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I know, I hear you sneak out from time to time,” Seulgi helps you out with your potion, scanning through her textbook to read the ingredients. “You know you can talk to me if anything’s bothering you, right?” Your friends know you well enough to know that you cringe at sentiments, so you can’t help but chuckle at how passive Seulgi was trying to be at comforting you, not even sparing you a glance as she adds ingredients into your cauldron.

“I know.” You’re grateful for your friends. As much as you hated relying on other people for your problems, which was called out to be such a Slytherin trait of yours, it was nice knowing someone had your back. Besides, you weren’t going to let some boy bring your mood down like this. You were better than that. You swore from that day on that you were over the whole Jungkook situation. You were sure of it.

At least you thought you were.

Which was why you were surprised to see him two days later, waiting for you outside your common room.

“Jungkook?” He looks up at the sound of your voice and smiles as he walks up to you and Seulgi. “What are you doing here?”

“Our timetables match today so I thought we could go to class together,” he quickly glances over to Seulgi, slightly dipping his head. “May I borrow your friend for the day?”

“We actually made plans-”

“Right! I, uh, actually have to meet up with Wendy for this thing, we have, going on,” Seulgi sends you a knowing look. “You guys go ahead! I’ll see you at lunch?” she spares you no second to reply, side hugging you before speed walking down the hallway. 

“I still find it weird how your dorm is literally next to the dungeons,” Jungkook leans down to whisper to your ear, causing you to jump back a bit. “Like c’mon, Salazar could’ve chosen a homier spot,”

“Why are you doing this?” This time, you were hoping for an actual answer. Cause honestly, you were mad, pissed even at how Jungkook thinks he could just approach you like this- like he hasn’t been avoiding you these past few days. But even as you glare at him, a small part of you is happy to see him. He keeps his calm composure and takes a step closer to you, careful not to break eye contact.

“I wanna do things right this time.” 

You ponder at this for a second. “What does that even-”

“But that means you can’t ask questions,” he flashes you that stupid grin of his, before snatching your books from your hands. “Now let’s go! We’re gonna miss our first class!”

You choose not to question him since you were already confused as it is, but you must admit that the small gesture of him carrying your things warmed your heart. Jungkook seemed to be a lot more chatty this time, going on and on about his group of friends and the many shenanigans they’ve been up to. You recognized Yoongi and Jimin since they were in the same house as you and even spoke to the latter one a couple of times since he was your team’s seeker. You pretend to be disinterested in his stories when really you’ve been noting down every single detail in your head, piecing together what makes Jungkook the boy he is today. He’s grown more confident over the years and you can see it in the way he walks with his head held high, in every diction of his words, and how he isn’t afraid to voice out his opinions. It was nothing like the shy little kid who used to tail behind you all the time and had a stutter when he spoke- it was a whole new better version of him. 

Jungkooks sits next to you in all your shared classes, pestering you in every way he can but still being careful not to cross the line. Every side comment he whispers earns him a smack or pinch on the arm, but you can’t help but laugh every single time. He kept you company through the dull lectures, casting little charms under your desk for entertainment. You watch as he whispers an incantation to the bird origami he folded just a few minutes ago, seeing it slowly flutter its wings. He picks it up and softly blows it towards your face. Your eyes follow the flying piece of paper in amusement as it floats above your head. How have you not heard of this charm before? The paper bird lands on Jungkook’s outstretched hand and he has this smug look on his face you can’t exactly read.

“What?”

“You're smiling.” He gestures to your lips. “It suits you. You should do that more often.”

It takes you a second to realize that there’s a little ache on your cheeks from grinning, and another second to completely wipe out the expression from your face. “You say that as if I have a permanent bitch face on me.”

He laughs. “Not at all. Let me rephrase that then. You should smile more often around me.”

You roll your eyes to hide the fact that you know that wouldn’t be too hard to do.

This goes on for another week and it’s been nothing but fun. The two of you have gotten more comfortable with each other and unconsciously settled in a routine. Jungkook continues to meet you outside your dorm everyday, dropping you off to your classrooms whenever he can. He eventually got you to agree on having lunch with him at least two times a week, just enough times so that you both can still hang out with your own sets of friends.

Although this doesn’t stop Jungkook from introducing them to you. When he asked you to meet up with him in the Clock Tower Courtyard, he didn’t mention six other boys would be tagging along. Just as you were about to make a run for it, he catches you before you can and obnoxiously yells out your name. Yeah, definitely can’t hide now.

If it weren’t for the obvious excitement in his eyes, you wouldn’t be walking towards the fountain they were gathered in. He introduces them to you and most of them were pretty welcoming (you can’t say the same for Yoongi and Namjoon though). It flattered you how Jungkook wanted to include you in this part of his life. It was something else witnessing it first hand. Seven boys from different Houses? You’d expect a clash of different personalities that will result in endless arguments and disagreements, but instead, they mix together beautifully. 

You’re grateful Jungkoook has them. He grew up with the best kinds of people.

Then a thought crosses your mind. You could say he was living an almost perfect life right now. If your fall out with Jungkook led him to these people, to be the confident guy he is today, then maybe it was for the best.  Maybe you don’t regret it a single bit. 

Maybe you were holding him back this whole time.

Maybe he’s better off without you.

The thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue and effectively changes your whole mood for the rest of the day. Luckily, you didn’t have any plans with Jungkook after classes so you use this time wisely; to mope around. What better way to deal with your whirlwind of mentions than by wallowing in self-pity? 

Wendy seems to think otherwise.

“Y/N, you better start making some bloody sense.”

“Enough of this please.”

“Not until you explain to me why you’re acting this way!” A distant shush is heard and Wendy is suddenly reminded that you’re both in the library. She speaks in a quieter tone this time but you can still hear the annoyance through her gritted teeth. 

“I just don’t get it. I specifically don't get you.”

“Well I didn’t ask you to meet me here to be understood. I just needed a friend to talk to, but clearly you don’t get that.” You continue to scribble down notes onto your parchment paper and try to block out any more of Wendy’s interrogation. You can tell she’s hurt from what you said but this definitely wasn’t the response you were expecting when you decided on opening up to her. You came to the conclusion that ending whatever it is you have with Jungkook will be beneficial to both of you and you expected Wendy to be on board with this. But apparently she is strongly against it.

“Y/N listen to me,” she snatches the quill from your hand and you knew better than to argue with her. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what’s going on in that stubborn head of yours but you better learn how to come to terms with your feelings immediately or you’re gonna end up hurting someone,” she tosses the quill back to you before standing up to leave, but you don’t miss the last words she murmurs.

“Maybe even yourself.”

You hate it when she reads you like a book and especially hate it when you know she’s right. It doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re growing more attached to Jungkook by the second. Things are slowly going back to the way they were, but for what? A setup for more disappointment? You’ve convinced yourself that Jungkook doesn’t really need you in his life, so why is he trying to get you back in it? You’re afraid you know the answer to that already.

“Want some?” Jungkook’s mouth is stuffed with sweets as he hands you a box of chocolates. You eye it suspiciously. It was neatly decorated with pink sparkly wrappings and a red ribbon around it.

“Not when it looks like it’s tampered with some sort of love potion.” You lean away from it and Jungkook chuckles.

“Nah, I had Namjoon check it for me. We’re on the clear,” he continues to pop more of them between his lips. There’s a paper stuck to the box’s lid and you could easily make up the cursive writings on it.

‘Dear Jungkook

My heart only beats for you. Go to the Ball with me?

                                xoxo                                Arabella’

The thought of him receiving love letters and gifts bothered you a lot more than you hoped, which is rather stupid cause you can clearly see why. Jungkook is a very dateable guy after all. Did I just say that?

“Arabella huh? The cute redhead from Gryffindor?”

“I mean I guess she’s cute,” Jungkook continues to talk with a mouthful of chocolates. “A lil’ too quirky for my taste though. And she always stares at me in the common room! It’s very unsettling,” he shudders at the memory but is quick to notice the slight scowl on your face.

“Why? You jealous?” there’s a hint of tease to the way he says it and you scoff.

“Absolutely not.” 

He laughs as you both continue to walk to the Great Hall. You weren’t supposed to have lunch together until next week but you found it easy to persuade Jungkook into making this exception. It pains you a bit to see how happy this made him when you were already composing the few sentences that will ultimately break this friendship in your head. This only lasts a second until you convince yourself that this will be much harder for you than it ever will be for him.

“So the Celestial Ball is in two days.”

“Yep, it sure is.”

“You have a date yet?”

“Nope.” You sigh in disinterest. You never thought much into having a date. As long as there’s good food, good music, and the company of your friends, you’re sold. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have someone in mind.

“Really? So you said no to Seokmin?” He seemed genuinely surprised and somewhat..  relieved?

“Not really. I just haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him.”

“So.. you’d say yes?”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake just worry about your own date!” You roll your eyes. “But I’m guessing you’d be going with Arabella?”

Jungkook frowns. “Do you think I should?” The question dangled carefully from his lips with hesitance. You can’t point it out exactly but it's like he was expecting a specific answer from you. 

“Why should my opinion matter? It’s not like I’m your best friend or anything.” This comes out harsher than you intended and halts Jungkook in his tracks.

“Where the hell did that from?” He says this like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. But wasn’t it simply the truth? You try not to let his clear frustration get to you.

“Look, you can stop this whole ‘making amends with your old friend’ thing you’ve been doing. I don’t need a friend out of pity. That was two years ago and I no longer hold a grudge against you. Shit happens. We’ve changed since then. You’ve changed.”

He scoffs. “And that’s all on me, huh?” he takes a step closer until he’s only inches away from your face. “Everything that has ever gone wrong with us is all because of me. Is that what you’re trying to say?” Jungkook has never raised his voice at you until now. For once you were actually scared of him.

“I never said..”

“You changed too Y/N! Yet I never held that against you,” he was practically seething at this point. “I never once blamed your personal choices for getting in between our friendship, cause they were all for you! Even after you started spending less time with me out of nowhere, I just thought of it as you being your independent self. You think I wanted this to happen to us?”

You’re at loss for words. Up until now, neither of you have ever spoken about this. It was sort of a silent agreement to pretend that there wasn’t this looming tension between you two. You should’ve known one of you was bound to slip at some point. No one dares to speak up, both waiting for the other to say something, anything to end this.

“Is that really what you think this is?” His hand gestures between you two. “Is this really just some sort of compensation to you? That I’m doing this out of pity?" Your lack of denial forces him to believe so.

Every muscle in him was aching for you to reassure him that this past week meant just as much to you as it did to him. That he wasn’t clouded by the fake judgment that things were going extremely well. There’s a pleading look in his eyes when a voice interrupts you two.

“Y/N!” Seokmin runs up to you, completely oblivious. “Have you gotten my owl? I've been trying to reach you this whole week but never heard back from you! I was starting to worry.” It amazed you how dense someone could be. Jungkook doesn’t even spare him a glance as he continues to stare you down.

“Guess you never really knew me after all,” and with a twist of his heel, he walks away, discarding the box of chocolates to the nearest bin. What a waste of food.

You knew you should’ve chased after him. Jungkook may be a brat at times but he would never act on things irrationally. If you were to explain everything to him, this just might have ended on a better note.

But neither of that happens as you let him slip away from your life for the second time.

“I’m sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?” You can see the slight guilt in Seokmin’s eyes so you force yourself to smile at him.

“It’s nothing. Oh gosh I haven’t visited the owlery recently, your letters are probably still there! I’m really sorry,” and you genuinely were. But you just found it hard to care at the moment with Jungkook’s words still echoing at the back of your head.

Seokmin chuckles. “Hey, don’t worry about it. No harm done.” He looks at you pointedly. “But you still owe me an answer Y/N.” 

You don’t doubt for a second that you would enjoy yourself if you were to go with him to the ball. Seokmin was known for being the light of the party with his funny antics and humor, anyone would be lucky to have him as a date.

You stare at yourself through the mirror, eyeing the emerald green cloth flow just above your ankles. You thought you looked pretty decent. To finish the look, you decide to tie your hair up into a ponytail to keep any loose strands from falling to your face. 

Seulgi walks in the room dressed in a red mermaid dress that compliments her figure. She has her hair styled down and makeup done naturally. The ball isn’t for another two hours and she already looks ready to go. Her eyes immediately land on you, specifically on what you’re wearing.

“Um, you do know there’s a formal dress code, right?” She laughs nervously, hoping what she’s seeing is a practical joke. “Y/N please tell me you just got back from practice or something.” She scans the quidditch gear that covers you from top to bottom. This definitely wasn’t the dress you bought together in Diagon Alley before the year started.

“I’m not going Seulgi, I already told you this.”

“Nooo! You can’t ditch me and Wendy like this!”

“Don’t you guys have dates?” You quirk an eyebrow at her. “If anyone’s getting ditched, it'll be me if I attend the ball.”

“It’s not my fault you rejected Seokmin,” She sits on the edge of your bed. “And I promise I’ll ditch Teddy for you if you ever get bored, so can you pretty pretty pleeeease go with us?” She sprawls herself across your bedding and flashes you the saddest puppy dog eyes she could muster. You laugh and throw a pillow to her face.

 “Nice try, but still no.”

“God you’re impossible.” Seulgi pushes herself up and walks to your closet. You glance back to the mirror as you tighten the straps of your quidditch gloves. A quick drill around the pitch will probably be enough to get your mind off everything.

After rummaging through your pile of clothes, Seulgi finds the piece of garment she was looking for. She pulls out a black sheath dress and holds it up close to your face. 

“When I come back, you better be out of that uniform and in this beautiful dress I oh-so-carefully picked out for you, okay?” She shoves the clothing to your hands, flashing you a grin before darting towards the door. “Five minutes, Y/N! Then I’ll do your hair and makeup.”

You open your mouth to protest when Seulgi slams the dorm behind her. God she could be so pushy sometimes. The dress feels soft against your fingers as you lay it out across your bed to get a good look at it. Its sleeves are off shouldered with a modest slit on the skirt that ends just by the knee. Aside from the little lace patterns around the waistline, the dress is completely plain. It’s the perfect evening gown for you. Seulgi has a good eye for clothes, you must admit that. 

It probably wouldn’t hurt to just try it on...

Two hours later,  you’re standing near the entrance to the great hall with an overexcited Seulgi clinging onto your arm. Students dressed in suits and gowns slowly start to pack the venue, meeting up with their friends and partners and you unknowingly become more anxious at the thought of bumping into Jungkook.

“Over here!” Seulgi waves a hand to the sea of people and a guy maneuvers around them to get to you. 

“Hello,” The boy you recognized as Teddy Lupin smiles, leaning in to hug Seulgi. “I’m glad you can make it!” he adds to you.

“My friend here can be very persuasive.”

Seulgi grins. “Damn right I am. So, shall we?”

The walls of the Great Hall had all been covered in velvety midnight blue textiles with silver sparkles that resemble those of stars, decorating them from top to bottom. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Over your heads, thousands of candles were floating mid air and the enchanted ceiling no longer resembled the sky outside. Instead, it was filled with constellations and planets you learned about in Astronomy class. The three of you stare up at them in astonishment when Wendy sneaks up from behind you.

“Pretty cool huh?” she nods her head towards the ceiling. “I persuaded Professor McGonagall into letting the decorating committee change the view for the night. This place just didn’t scream ‘celestial’ to me before that.”

You’re still gazing at the ceiling when you reply. “Woah Wendy, you guys did a really good job with this place.”

“I know, I know, no need to flatter me,” she jokes. “Come on you guys, I still haven’t introduced to you my date!”

Of course Wendy was able to land herself a date and it wasn’t a surprise to you that it was with Mark, the guy she has been crushing on for months now.  Their attires even matched in sapphire blue color and you were pleased to see how much they got along. 

You didn't want to admit it, but you ended up having a blast that night. Your friends kept you company the whole time, being sure to include you in their conversations with their dates, who you found to be very friendly. You silently thank Seulgi in your head cause if it weren’t for her, you would be missing out on all this fun.

Across the room, you see Seokmin occupying a table with his friends. He took things well when you rejected his date proposal and made sure there weren’t any hard feelings between you two after that. His eyes meet yours and he sends you a smile, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. Turns out he ended up going dateless as well. He mouths the words ‘this could’ve been you’, making you laugh.

You’re glad things are okay between you two, but you wished you could say the same for Jungkook.

Come to think of it, you haven't seen that boy at all tonight. 

Where is he anyway?

“Let’s dance!!” You watch your friends pull their partners with them to the end of the hall where a band was performing on stage. Dinner has ended and everyone is now up on their feet and headed to the dance floor. Seulgi gestures for you to join them but you instead wave a hand for them to go ahead.

“I’ll join you guys later! Just gonna go get some fresh air,” you practically yell over the thumping music before walking towards the entrance hall.

You stop just past the ceiling high doors when the music fades into faint beats. As you step away from the crowd of people, you let out a breath you’ve unknowingly been holding in. A cold breeze brushes against your skin, causing you to shiver. If you knew it was going to be chilly you would’ve brought a cloak with you or something.

“Need a jacket?” You’re surprised to see Jungkook’s friend standing next to you, offering you his blazer in his outstretched hand.

You shake your head. “I’m alright, thank you.” 

“Y/N right?” He slings his blazer over his shoulders. “I’m sorry I’m really bad with names.”

“That’s me. And you’re Taehyung?”

He nods and shoots you a boxy grin. You both say nothing else after that and stand together in silence for a few minutes, turning to look back at the party every once in a while.

“He was looking for you, you know.”

“Jungkook’s here?” 

“Well, was. He left right after dinner.” Taehyung turns to face you when u remain silent.

“He talks about you a lot you know, even way back when I first got acquainted with him.”

“Nothing too bad I hope,” you muster a small laugh to hide how nervous you are.

He shakes his head. “No no, he always gushes about how close you guys were and how you’re the reason he even plays quidditch in the first place.”

You finally face him, eyes wide in shock. “He said that?” Taehyung simply nods.

“Yeah, you clearly meant a great deal to him if any of the stuff he told me was something to go by,” Taehyung turns to face the open doors of the Great Hall and his eyes immediately land on someone.

“You know, out of all the guys I'm probably the one who relates with him the most.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

He shrugs. “Let’s just say I know what it’s like to pine for someone so clueless.”

You cock a questioning brow at him. When he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, you follow his gaze which lands on a girl with her back facing you two. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“Jungkook’s a good guy, and unlike me, he’s not afraid to act on his feelings,” Taehyung smiles at you, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair. “You guys should talk things out.”

The brotherly gesture warms your heart and you knew he was right. You owe it to Jungkook to explain everything that’s been on your mind- to finally come to terms with your own feelings.

“I don’t even know where he is,” you look down in dismay.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” and with one quick nudge of his elbow, he walks back to the party, glancing back at you after a few steps. “He’s a pretty predictable guy.”

Catching onto his subtle hint, you quickly thank him before sprinting down the corridor. 

Being in the stands had a different kind of excitement to it. From where Jungkook was seated, he could see the landscape of the field that somehow seemed larger than usual compared to when he’s up flying around it. He starts to play scenes from old matches in his head, including the very first game he had against you.

You. The thought he had been trying to suppress the whole day.

It certainly didn’t help seeing you in the ball, all dressed up and happy despite the argument you two had only a few days back. He also hated to admit how pleased he was to see you without a date, as if he stood any chance with you to begin with.

“Why does she have to be so stubborn,” he breathes out to himself, chuckling at the situation he’s found himself in.

But he knew he had his faults. He felt that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you that day. If he were being honest, he didn’t even know how things led to that. It’s as if something snapped in him, like everything he had pent up inside came rushing out. He was better than that. Not once has he ever let his emotions get the best of him like that.

It’s crazy how much you can affect him like this.

“I thought you’d be here.”

For a moment, Jungkook believes he’s hallucinating when he sees you standing a few rows down from where he sat. Only when you cautiously take a seat next to him is when he realizes that this is all very much real. Suddenly hyper aware of your presence, Jungkook sits upright and clears his throat.

“Boring party?”

“Oh not at all. I took advantage of the unlimited meals then dipped.”

Jungkook laughs and you’re convinced it's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“I actually pocketed some of the flavored beans on our table,” he fishes them out from his dress robe and shows them to you. “Want one?”

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him pulling out colorful beans from his dapper attire, as if it were the most normal thing to do. “Sure, but you know how bad my luck is when it comes to picking out the good flavors.”

“Hmm sucks to be you huh?” Jungkook smirks.

You both pick out a jelly bean from the bunch, clicking them together before popping them into your mouths. You’re pleased to taste cherries coat your tongue and clasp your hands together.

“I didn’t get a vomit flavoured one!”

You look over to Jungkook and see him grimace, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “That was definitely booger…”

You burst into a fit of laughter, throwing your body back and unknowingly lean on Jungkook’s shoulder. He frowns down at you but it contradicts the pink shade that began to taint his cheeks.

The two of you spend the rest of the night laughing and poking fun at each other, which later on settled into small conversations. The winter air makes itself known once more as it blows past you, making you shiver and the goosebumps on your arms rise. Jungkook notices this and quickly takes his coat off, draping them over your shoulders without acknowledging it. He knew you’d refuse the gesture if he did.

Suddenly you felt ashamed. Even after lashing out on him, Jungkook chose to be civil with you and act as if nothing happened. He could’ve easily gotten up and left as soon as he saw you yet here he is, still making you happy without fail. 

You’ve decided that you’re done avoiding confrontation. 

A moment of silence fills the air as your eyes meet. 

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

You both chorus at the same time. Jungkook chuckles, gesturing for you to continue. “Ladies first.”

Despite the cool weather, your palms clam up out of nerves as you focus on the unsteady beat of your heart. Wiping off the sweat against your skirt, you build up the courage to voice out the next words you’re about to say.

“Up until recently, I never realized how much I blamed you for our ‘falling-out’. I’ve convinced myself that the sole reason you and I were no longer friends was because you didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore- or that I wasn’t cool enough to be your friend. Cause, well, I am pretty boring if you ask me,”

There’s a subtle tremble to your voice as you go on and you skillfully mask this with unnecessary arm gestures as you speak. At this very moment, Jungkook has never been more endeared. Maybe he’s always been this smitten, but seeing you ramble on all nervous around him, he can’t seem to fight the smile that sneaks onto his lips.

“but that's where I went wrong. I let my insecurities get the best of me and affect our friendship, relationship, or whatever it is we have going on-”

“You think there’s something going on between us?” Jungkook cuts you off mid babble. There’s a hint of playfulness in his tone and it takes you a second to catch onto his insinuations. You smack his arm.

“I’m being serious!” Your brows knit together in mock annoyance and Jungkook laughs, reaching a hand out to rest it on top of yours. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, please continue.”

You glance at your joined hands on your lap, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your palm. Now that you think about it, Jungkook has always been more physical in his love language and that may be why you guys got along so well. You were never really great with words, much less receiving them, and so was Jungkook. It was always either tight hugs or a shoulder to cry on whenever he would comfort you. But with the way Jungkook’s ears turn red, you can’t help but think that maybe there was more to those innocent touches.

“I had a lot of self-doubts, especially after spending so much time with you these past couple of days. I guess you could say I was intimidated? You just seemed better off with this new life you had without me. I don’t know- I just didn’t see a reason for you to want me back in it.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak but he keeps his eyes trained on you. He has his lips pressed in a thin line, clearly processing everything you just poured out to him. Sometimes you wonder if he knew he had this affect on you, cause most times you don’t even realize it yourself. You never really understood why a part of you would get all flustered over the menial things he did, but you have a pretty good guess lingering at the back of your head.

“You think too much.” This is the only response he gives you before you snatch your hands away from his grasp. 

“E-excuse me??” You didn’t really know what to expect for a response, but this certainly wasn’t one of it. Jungkook clicks his tongue as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if the answer was blaring right in front of you.

“Y/N, I never wanted you out of my life in the first place,” he says as a matter of fact. “and I hate how I let it happen. I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but the attention people gave me was so new and to be honest, I enjoyed it,” Jungkook pauses, leaning back with palms resting on either side of him. “You knew how shy I was back then and I wasn’t really confident in myself. Funnily enough, I was also intimidated by you,” he chuckles mostly to himself. “I wanted to be more than this timid kid who stuck by your hip 24/7. I wanted my quidditch skills to be recognized, to show people what I’m made of, and even though I got that in the end, I let you down in the process.” 

He was intimidated by you? The Jeon Jungkook felt this way around you? It’s almost laughable how similar your thought process was this entire time. “Well shit, I guess we’re both stupid.”

Jungkook laughs and you watch as his eyes crinkle up. You always found that facial asset of his attractive. 

“It also didn’t help how I had this big crush on you. Yes, I was this prepubescent boy trying so hard to impress y-”

“You what?” If you were a cartoon, your eyes would be popping out of its sockets right now. He liked me?

Jungkook finally looks at you with an arched brow. “Wait, you never knew?”

You practically scoff. “I’m not a damn mind reader!” You debate on whether you should ask what’s on your mind before giving in. “But.. had? As in, it’s in the past?”

You regret your question almost immediately when this playful smirk graces Jungkook's lips. It looked as if he was waiting for this exact moment the whole night. He sits up and turns his body to face you so you’re forced to look back at him. Jungkook leans dangerously close that you could smell his cologne from where he sat. “What do you think?” he asks in a lower register.

At this point, you can’t help the annoyance that flashes across your face. Why does he keep beating around the bush? Did he like making you this flustered? It takes a lot out of you to shove him back by the chest with an irritated huff. Literally anyone could get lost in those beautiful eyes of his. “That’s why I asked, genius.”

Jungkook grins as he was sure you weren’t as mad as you made yourself to be. This was the front you always had with everyone but he could see right through you. He admires this tough exterior of yours, but must admit that he enjoys breaking them down even more.

“I have something for you,” Jungkook completely changes the course of the conversation but your curiosity gets the better of you when you see him reaching for something in his pant pockets. Before he pulls the mystery item out, he looks at you. “but you should have your eyes closed.”

Too tired to fight back, you do as he says. “You better not be pulling out your wand to hex me or something.” 

He giggles before it goes silent again. A few seconds pass and you think that he might have just up and left you alone in the bleachers. Before you could open your eyes to confirm this, you feel a cold, metallic sphere being placed on your right palm. You look down to see it’s a golden snitch.

“It’s not much but i’ve been wanting to give this to you for a while now. I found it in my room while I was cleaning some stuff out.”

“You stole this from the storage room?” 

“Of course not!” Jungkook says defensively. “...Professor McGonagall caught me going through Madam Hooch’s things and let me keep it when I confessed.”

“That’s it?” You try to coax the whole story out, knowing full well Professor is not that forgiving.

“...She also gave me 2 weeks worth of detention.” This gets you to laugh, though you couldn’t help but wonder what’s so important about this golden snitch that he had to go through all that just to retrieve it. As if he’s read your mind, or from the way you were intently studying the ball, he continues. “Do you remember our first match against each other? During our 2nd year?” 

You groan inwardly at this. “Yeah, your team won.” 

“Because?” Jungkook eggs you on.

You openly glare at him this time, venom lacing into your response. “Because I committed Snitchnip*.”

Jungkook grins triumphantly at your admission. “Still don’t get how you made such mistake.” It amuses him how competitive you could get over such little things, but it was one of your many charms he was drawn into. He reaches out to teasingly pinch your cheek. From this close proximity, he notices the light makeup applied on your face- eyelids covered in a light brown hue and lips a darker shade of red. Not that you needed any to begin with in his opinion, but you looked exceptionally beautiful tonight. Has he mentioned that to you? He thought now wasn’t the right time to bring it up though. “There there, it’s all in the past. And besides, you’ve improved a lot since then.”

“Yeah cause I forced you to practice with me every night after that incident,” you smile at the memory. It didn’t matter at the time that you and Jungkook were from opposing teams that were known to rarely get along. All you knew was that you enjoyed training with him more than anyone, including your own teammates. You convince yourself that it was because he was the most challenging player to go against, but truthfully you just genuinely enjoyed his company. “So, is this the ball that made me lose?”

Jungkook hums in agreement before grabbing the golden snitch from your hand. “You know how these things have flesh memory, right?” 

You nod. “That’s how they knew I caught it,  by accident,” you emphasize the last two words.

“And which hand did you say caught it?”

You wondered where this was going. “Well I didn’t, but my left one.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheeks as he loosens his grip on the golden snitch until his palm is laid out flat. The snitch’s wings appear and slowly fly up, hovering just by his eye level. He turns to face you and gestures towards the ball. “I don’t know if it’ll work but, try grabbing it with your left hand.”

Despite the many questions you have, you do as you are told. Jungkook seemed nervous about this that you couldn’t help but anticipate what’s to happen next. Once it’s within your grasp, you look at Jungkook expectantly. This makes him giggle, his hand shyly rubbing the back of his nape. “It’s no star, but I hope it gets the message across.”

You’re about to ask what he meant by that when it suddenly hits you.

“One day I’m gonna grab all the stars in the sky and give them to you.”

You bring the golden snitch up with your left hand and study it once more. With a single swipe of your thumb against its center, enchanted writings start to appear. 

“You shine brighter than anyone else,” you murmur the words to yourself.

“Too cheesy?” Jungkook quips nervously in an attempt to lessen the tension he’s built for himself. “I was actually worried the words won’t show up. You know, Seokjin taught me this enchantment just last week! They only appear when the snitch is in contact with it’s first touch. I didn’t think I could pull it off this well but oh thank Merlin it worked. I still feel like I could’ve gone with a better quote, but the guys said this was already good.”

His words have faded into white noise as you continue to stare at the writings engraved on the snitch. You can feel your heart swell up in happiness, excitement, literally every emotion in the book. He put so much thought into this gift and he dares say that it ‘isn’t much’? He could’ve given you a stone with a heart carved on it and you’d still think it was the sweetest thing ever.

You liked him. God, you liked him so much. How are you only realizing this now? Now that’s a lie, you knew you’ve had these feelings for him for a while now and you’ve been denying yourself of this for the longest time. It almost frustrates you how long it took for you to admit this to yourself. At this point, you knew you were openly staring at him with eyes filled with adoration, but he doesn’t seem to notice this as he is still rambling on.

“This also kinda answers the whole past or present question you had for me right? Ugh, I swear I could’ve dealt with this better if I wasn’t such a wuss back then. But hey, I’m here now pouring this all out to you and ready to get my heart stomped on and broken into a million pieces so please be gentle when you completely reject me-”

You shut him up the only way you seem fit at the moment. You press your lips against his and he visibly freezes. It seemed as if he forgot how to breathe, remaining completely still. Your confidence falters at this but just when you are about to pull away, Jungkook’s cups your cheek and kisses you back this time. His touch is feather light against your skin but it creates this huge wave of warmth inside of you- you were literally melting under his touch. His lips were warm and soft but would also slightly quiver as they glided against your own. You felt relieved to know that he was just as nervous as you are as it never crossed your mind that this was all new to him as well.

Jungkook on the other hand was on cloud nine. It was all too good to be true that even as he was kissing you, he found it hard to believe that any of this was really happening. He slowly pulls away from the kiss to look at you, the hand on your cheek moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Yep, this is real.

“Does this mean you like me back?” You both laugh at his question, foreheads resting against each other as you continue to look into each other's eyes.

“What do you think?” you imitate him, causing him to chuckle as he pulls you in for a hug. This better not be some wild jinx casted on him because he swears he’s never been this happy. Luck was definitely on his side today.

A roar of cheers echo the walls of the Great Hall. Students are crowded around the Gryffindor table, chanting the house name while waving their scarves and flags. As you push past them, you see the winning team celebrating with Jungkook, his teammates congratulating him with pats on the back and hair ruffles here and there. Amongst the commotion, he spots you as you smile at him and quickly excuses himself from the team. As he runs up to you, the students stand back to make way for him. Having everyone’s eyes on you two made you a bit uneasy, but this was eased off almost immediately when Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground as he spins you around. 

“Hey! Put me down, people are staring,” you say through giggles. Jungkook listens and carefully places you back on your feet but still keeps his arms around you. 

“Sorry, I was just happy to see my girl cheer for me.” The petname makes you blush and Jungkook flashes that boyish grin of his. He has gotten a lot more cheesier ever since you started exclusively dating, you weren’t sure if you could handle much more.

“You do know this means you’re up against Slytherin for finals next week, right?” you tilt your head to the side and feign cluelessness.

Jungkook is quick to match your taunt. “U-huh, and I don’t plan on losing this time.”

In losing battles, you have to admit to defeat and surrender, just like how you’ve completely given in to Jungkook and let him win you over. But that doesn’t me you’re always going to go easy on him.

“Neither do I,” you retort back with a smirk.

*Snitchnip -  a Quidditch foul that occurs when any player other than the Seeker catches or touches the Golden Snitch.

A/N: first story of the hogwarts series is finally up and its starring bestest boi koo! this took me longer than expected and the ending feels kind of rushed but i hope you guys like it! if this story ends up doing well, i might even post a mini jungkook pov :>

[ladyblogger-margie]

Pride Parade

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: Sam goes to Pride and just happens to run into Bucky Barnes, his crush, while both navigate their roles in the LGBT community as bisexual men and Avengers. 

Warning: G-Rated. Kissing, brief mentions of drinking, brief mentions of homophobia. 

Word Count: 1191

a/n: Happy Pride all! This is for Writer Wednesday and Jey’s Pride Celebration 2K21 week 1. To any bisexuals who don’t feel welcome at Pride, we are part of this community and you don’t have to justify yourself or identity to anyone. You’re enough. 

MY MASTERLIST

Sam checked over his shoulder as he heard a squeal behind him, wondering if it was for him. It wasn't, it was just a girl who had run into her friends. He was Captain America, but he was here today as an out and proud bisexual man and he just wanted to feel part of the community and not have to be a symbol all the time. 

He didn’t come unprepared though. There had been reports of counter-protestors planning to disrupt today’s Pride Parade and he was not going to just slink away if that happened, he would stand strong against the bigots and protect his community. 

He was waving a flag and cheering for the non-corporate floats in support of local clubs and charities when he saw him. Bucky Barnes was stalking the parade, he’s eyes assessing the crowd across the street from where Sam stood under the baking sun. Even in this heat, Bucky was wearing a long sleeve shirt, trying also to blend in. 

Sam was curious about the state of Barnes and his presence here today, while the two were openly out with each other as their friendship had developed, neither had mentioned they would be at the parade today to each other. 

Sam didn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable, but he also was too curious to help himself to find out why Bucky looked so serious. Sam saw a slim break in the parade and darted swiftly across the street to cut Bucky off in his prowl. 

Bucky was shocked to see Sam, but the cues to this were subtle and early in their friendship, Sam would have missed the slight widening of his eyes and the ever so slight stiffening of his shoulders. He recognized them now though, so it was clear to Sam that he surprised Bucky. 

“Weren’t expecting me?” Sam asked. 

“You didn’t mention you’d be here,” Bucky said with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. 

“Neither did you,” Sam said and Bucky tilted his head dismissively. 

“I’m not really sure I belong here,” Bucky admitted. 

“You’re bisexual, why wouldn’t you belong here?” Sam asked. 

“I’m too old, too out of touch,” Bucky explained, his eyes still scanning the crowd. 

Sam scoffed, “Oh come off it, the B in LGBT isn’t there for decoration. Frankly it’s the only credential you need.”

Bucky smiled, “I’m here in case those anti-protesters show up, I figure if I can help with that, I could stick around.”

Sam smiled sadly at Bucky, the only place Bucky fell into naturally was with Sam and his family. Everywhere else Bucky felt the need to earn love, attention and belonging and he either avoided trying all together, or tried so hard it broke Sam’s heart. 

“You could’ve asked me to come with you,” Sam offered. 

“You could’ve asked me,” Bucky replied. 

Sam nods his head, “Well, here we are anyway. Did you wanna patrol together?”

“You were just watching the parade,” Bucky said, holding back a smile.

“Do you want company or not, man?” Sam asked playfully, shoving Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, let’s walk,” Bucky said. 

The pair started walking, deliberately keeping their fingers from brushing against each other. Sam had done a lot of work trying to compartmentalize his feelings for Bucky. It was complicated enough being the Black Captain America, and it was complicated being bisexual and being Black, and being the Bi, Black Captain America crushing on a recently absolved war criminal would be just, a whole different level of complicated. Especially if Bucky didn’t feel the same. 

They were wandering along, keeping their eyes out for troublemaking bigots, but also people watching and smiling at the pure joy experienced by the community as they found strength and support in each other. Sam smiled when he saw a black teenage lesbian couple holding hands, and the sight of their strength gave him some strength of his own. 

“You happy you came?” Sam asked Bucky. 

Bucky smiled, “Yeah, I am. The company is better than I expected.”

Bucky looked at Sam as he said that and Sam’s heart fluttered in his chest. He broke eye contact quickly and looked around at the surrounding crowd. 

“Yeah, it’s great to feel part of something bigger than yourself, right?” Sam asked, deflecting, not allowing him to get his hopes up. 

“Right,” Bucky said with pursed lips. 

They continued to walk along, but Sam noticed the increased distance between their bodies, but tried not to think about it. 

Near the end of the block they left the parade route and ended up at the after party location where the music was already playing, but the crowd was still thin. 

They milled around, relieved they didn’t encounter any counter-protestors, but now a little unsure of what to do next. Before either of them could say anything though, they were interrupted by an eager 20-something with a camera and a badge dangling from his neck.

“Did you two want a couple portrait?” he asked them. 

Bucky froze as Sam chuckled, “We’re good, man, thank you though.”

“Come on, it’s free and you can download the photo when you get home, maybe print it, hang it up? You guys are so cute, you’d be perfect for a candid kiss photo!” the kid babbled enthusiastically. His energy was infectious and it had both Sam and Bucky relaxed and chuckling. 

“Oh all right,” Sam said, “If you want, that is.” He turned to Bucky who was wearing a smile.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” he teased. 

The photographer readied himself and Sam gave Bucky a quick peck on the lips. 

The photographer clicked away and looked at the image, “That was a quick one, I can do another?”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him close. Sam looked up into his eyes and saw the longing there that he was sure was mirrored in his own. 

“Kiss me again, like you mean it,” Bucky said and it didn’t sound like a joke. 

It sounded sincere and desperate and Sam reached out to grip the base of Bucky’s neck and crash their mouths together. They were lost in each other, Sam felt that something clicked into place along with an overwhelming sense of belonging. This felt right and he was just so happy it seemed Bucky felt the same. 

When they pulled apart the photographer was smiling fondly at them. Then he handed them a ticket stub. 

“Here’s the details, you can get 1 free download, and if you want additional photos it’s by donation, plus you can leave a tip anytime” he explained, “Happy Pride!”

Bucky didn’t let Sam go as they watched the photographer find his next subjects. 

“We definitely need to tip that guy,” Bucky said.

“Google review too probably,” Sam answered. 

They laughed and pressed their bodies together. Bucky took Sam’s hand, and led him to the drink tent. 

“Let me buy you a drink,” Bucky said. 

“So this is a date then?” Sam asked. 

“I’d like it to be,” he replied. 

“Me too,” Sam said and followed Bucky to the drink tent, far more excited for the evening than he was just moments ago. 

TAGS: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[bleepblopbloop56]

100 things to do under the stars

(Analogical, no warnings)

1: stargaze

  Virgil dragged Logan out from the warmth of the truck and into crisp fall air. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was nearly midnight, and the clouds were practically nonexistent. There wasn't a light for miles, aside from the still dimming headlights of Virgil's pickup truck. They had to be in someone's backyard or private property, but with a field so vast and expansive who would know to say anything. 

“Virgil-” Logan started before swiftly getting shushed by Virgil. He jerked open the door to the backseat, pulling out piles of blankets and pillows. 

  “Lo, i'm gonna need you to ignore how sketchy this looks and help me pad the bed of the truck, there's a meteor shower tonight and i want you to see it.” Virgil tossed him some handfuls of quilts and stuffed animals. It seemed as if he found every even remotely soft thing in his apartment and shoved it in the car. They passed the truck bed and Virgil hoisted him into the makeshift bed, before bracing the side of the truck and hoping for himself. 

 They stayed silent as they got comfortable, that was Logan's favorite part about their friendship, they could just exist around each other without any pressure to perform social cues like small talk.. They could just be. Logan reached down and intertwined their hands, making virgil's heart skip a beat. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, shifting closer to his friend “I needed this” Virgil swallowed roughly, laying his head closer to Logan’s as they watched the stars 

7: contemplate existence + 11: drink coffee

 “Do you think there's something else out there?” Virgil asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. This time, they sat on the roof of the truck, coffee in hand and feet dangling off the edge of the truck. 

  “Be more specific.” Logan took a sip of his coffee, bringing it to his mouth with both hands. It provided a nice warmth against the chill of the night, something his black wool coat was vaguely failing to provide.

   “Life.. do you think we're alone here?” Logan wanted to say no with a definite certainty that Virgil was looking for, but that would be irresponsible to answer with a certainty he didn't have. 

   “Arthur Clarke once said ‘Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.’” he settled on instead. Virgil grimaced and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged and turned his body to face Logan. He tried to make eye contact with him, but Logan continued to look up into the abyss.

  “That's not what I asked,” he said “I wanna know what you think.” Logan took another slow sip of his coffee to stall. Eventually, he brought it away from his mouth and turned to face Virgil

   “I dont know..” he admitted “it seems.. impossible that there's an infinite universe beyond our capability of comprehension that is simply empty. I don't believe there will ever be certainty on our end, so,” he put the coffee down and laid down, putting his eyes back on the stars “i'd rather not worry about it.”

32: question your own mortality *

   “What do you suppose the point of it all is Virgil?”  he had become rather acquainted with the empty field he and Virgil spent nearly every clear night in. They hadn't even got out of the car this time before Logan started their nightly talks.

   “I thought it scared you to talk about things like that.” Virgil jokes to mask that he didn't have an answer. He jerked open the door but didn't get out. 

    “Do… Do you ever question why we're here?” Logan knew the answer to that, and Virgil constantly thought about his life and his purposeless existence. Virgil took pity on him when he noticed his big brown eyes sparkling in the light the car turned on. So mundane, and yet Virgil had seemed to romanticize the smallest things around Logan.

    “Get out, I wanna show you something,” Logan followed wordlessly. “I think..” Virgil continued, once they were out of the truck and on top of it “that it's different for everyone. For me, I just want to spend my short existence here experiencing life for what it is. Good and the bad, mostly good.” Virgil smiled softly as he laid down on the roof “ look at that… all the stars feel so close i could touch and yet impossibly far away. I can't see a horizon from here, it feels like I'm in the middle of all of them, here with you.”

    Logan laid on his side beside him, still not fully getting it. “You think you were put into existence to look at stars?”

    Virgil hoisted himself up on his elbows, craning his head back to continue looking at the abyss. “I think that's what i'm choosing to do with my existence, what are you choosing to do with yours?” Logan stayed quiet for a long time, just looking at Virgil and thinking before he jutted his head forward and kissed him. Virgil pulled back, heart beating  a million miles a minute. 

“Logan?” he whispered.

“If we get to choose what we do with our lives then i wanna spend mine like this, with you, and i've wasted too much time thinking.” he almost had tears in his eyes as he leaned forward again, letting Virgil close the gap this time. 

* (+ 53: have your first kiss) 

65: and your second

72: and third

83: and many many more

99: propose

    They continued going to their favorite spot for years, when they got older they bought the plot of land that they called theres and built a tiny cabin on the edge of the field. And one night, after 5 years of dating, virgil pulled logan into the middle of the field, walking this time. Fireflies and the moon are their only real source of light so far out in the field. 

Logan giggled as he attempted to keep balance while Virgil swung him around 

“What's got you in such a good mood?” Logan laughed, getting pulled into a nervous kiss by his boyfriend 

    “Virgil!” he smiled a little wider, “what's the occasion?”

   “Look up, and name all the constellations you can see,” Virgil asked quietly, hands fisted in his jacket pockets. Logan looked suspicious before doing as he was told, listing all he could remember the name of. Just as he was getting to the end of his list, Virgil cut him off. 

“Hey Logan?” When he looked back, Virgil was kneeling on the ground with a small navy blue box in his hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

Logan did not consider himself overly emotional, he nearly prided himself on it, and yet he couldn't seem to stop the hitch in his breath and rush of tears to his eyes. He wordlessly nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

    Virgil opened the box and revealed a ring with a simple diamond in the middle of a black band with stars engraved into the side. He stayed silent as the tears started cascading down his face. “Do you remember when you said you wanted to spend your life with me under the stars?” Logan  had to pull his hands to his mouth to contain the sob of happiness he couldn't. Virgil was also crying, a wide nervous grin on his face “will you make that official with me?” 

    “Yes!” Logan choked out, nodding profusely and collapsing into Virgil's arms when he stood up to hug him. He pulled back and kissed him, he kissed him for the millionth time with all the passion and love of the first. He pressed his forehead into Virgils, having to bend a little to accommodate for the height difference. 

“I love you” he mumbled, tears starting to end their freefall, even if only for a minute. “So so much”

100: get married.

    Roman bustled around their small cabin with the kind of nervousness more reserved for the grooms than the best man. He had been preparing this day- well, night- for months and had been more of a bridezilla than either of the actual men getting married. Guests were starting to arrive just after the sun went down and the stars were starting to peek through the darkness. Fairy lights shone just enough to allow the guests to find their seats without hassle, but not too much as to outshine the stars. 

    “Are you sure everythings ready?” Roman asked Logan once again, meeting a hard eye roll with an exacerbated grin. 

    “Yes Roman, I'm positive.” He couldn't help the feeling of joy riding in his throat when he checked his watch. He was getting married… to the most beautiful man on earth, under the stars, in his own backyard with all his friends… holy shit

    “Logan!” Patton called from the doorway, excited to be helping even if he'd been there since noon “its time! Come on “ 

    Virgil was…. He couldn't think of the right word.. Gorgeous, ethereal, amazing, perfect, genius, beautiful, unreal, indescribable… Logan felt in his heart as he was walked down the aisle by the designated group dad friend. He wore a velvet deep purple suit with black trims and converse sneakers, hair freshly dyed from a week before, and on top of his head sat a small crown with diamond stars. As much as he despised wedding traditions, this was his “something borrowed” generously lended by Roman to tie in the night theme. The wedding was small, neither of their families even invited to attend, and their friend group tiny but close knit. Patton bounced down the aisle with Virgil's arm intertwined in his, Logan didn't think the concept of “handing off the “bride ``'' was appropriate here, but neither of them could deny Patton's puppy dog eyes. 

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, dancing, kissing, crying, a small potluck with a modest red velvet wedding cake, and in the center of it all was stars. The decorations, the rings, the vows and the night sky, all of it was perfect. When all the guests left, and Virgil and Logan were finally alone, Logan pulled out a wedding present he had gotten for virgil. 

“What's this?” he asked, still riding the high of “Holy shit i'm really married” 

“Open it.” virgil undid the navy wrapping paper, and opened the box. Inside, there was a book titled “100 things to do under the stars, by Logan Cade” 

Virgils heart jumped when he realised logan had used his new last name.  

[crowdedimagines]

It’s Just PR - Shawn Mendes

ft. Harry Styles;)

“You know that this wasn’t my choice.” Shawn tries to reassure, his hand reaching up to brush against my cheekbone.

“I know, that doesn’t mean that this doesn’t suck.” I roll my eyes.

Shawn has just informed me that for Senorita they need to do press together and act like a couple, without ever fully confirming the relationship.  

“Please, don’t be mad.” He presses kisses to my cheek.

Shawn and I have been dating for nearly two years, but we’ve never come out to the public. Between the two of our jobs in the public eye, neither of our managers thought it was the right time. Shawn has always had the single boy persona to attract more fans, I’ve never really questioned it. This is the first time they want him to be in a relationship. Unfortunately, not his real one.

“What do you want me to be then?” I get up from the couch

“Not mad at me.” He runs a hand through his curls.

“This isn’t fair.”

“I know.” He reaches out his hand for me to rejoin him on the couch. He knows I would never be able to say no to his big brown eyes.

“We’ve been waiting so long to be able to come out to the fans, and now this is just going to be pushed back even later. We’ll never be able to just be free and be us.”

“It’ll only be for the summer. After that, we’ll give it a little time, and then we can come out and I’ll tell everyone how you’re the woman I love.”

I can’t help but smile at his words.

“We’ll get through it, I promise.” He presses a reassuring kiss to my temple.

The past three months have to be the longest ones I’ve ever experienced. Time after time of Shawn canceling because the have paparazzi sessions planned, or they need to get photographed making out on the beach. I never thought it would get to this point. I never thought Shawn would let it go so far.

It all became too much when Shawn told me he was performing with her at the VMA’s, an event that we would usually sit next to each other for. An event that now he has to perform with her, sit with her, and most likely walk the carpet with.

“Are you kidding me?” I groan.

“This should be the last time! Summer is almost over and after that we can just fade to the background. Then one of us will talk about the breakup in an interview. We’re almost there!” Shawn says, obviously trying to be optimistic.

“That’s so much time already! You know that they are going to drag this out and milk is as long as they can.” I get up from his dining room table. He had cooked supper for once, which I should’ve caught immediately as a sign he had bad news.

“This is it, this is the last time. After the VMA’s I don’t have to see Camilla again. Just a little bit more time with her. It’s just PR.” Shawn follows me as I pick up my items from around his house.

“I just don’t get why it’s been going on for so long.” I turn around to face him as I put on my shoes, “It still didn’t make it to number one on the charts. The fans know that this is fake, they aren’t stupid. Why are you guys still even trying?”

I finally look up and catch the look in his eyes. Anger.

“Really? How can you be so selfish?” He yells, any sense of him trying to comfort or ease me is gone now.

“Me being selfish? Are you serious right now? You think that I’m being the selfish one?” I throw open his front door, unlocking my car with the keys in my hand.

“Wait-” He follows me, “That’s not what I meant.”

Shawn places his hand on my door so I can’t shut it.

“Please don’t leave on terms like this.” He frowns.

I shake my head and a humorless smile graces my face.

“I need to, I can’t be here right now.”

I reach out a hand to place on his cheek and he leans into the touch. It makes me long for the days when this was so common.

“I just need some space right now.”

Only a few days later I was reminded of the VMA’s at the final fitting for my outfit.

“And you’re sure I can’t just back out of this?” I groan.

“No, you know how good publicity is for this! Plus you’re nominated for an award, you should be excited to go.” Joan, my manager insists.

“I just don’t want to see the performances.” I roll my eyes. “I just know that they have to be all over each other and I just have to sit there by myself and watch. Act like nothing's wrong for the cameras. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s one night.” She smiles, “And, what if you brought a date?”

“What?” I laugh and turn to face her, making the woman altering my dress let out an angry huff.

“You have friends in the industry, just ask someone to come with. Walk the carpet with you, sit at your side. It could be fun!”

Joan’s words stick with me all the way through the night. While sitting on my kitchen counter desperately debating back and forth. I shouldn’t feel guilty, Shawn has been doing way more than this for months, and most times unapologetically.

“No, there’s no way.” I say to myself and slide off the counter. I reach out to my phone, the first thing I come across on Twitter is new paparazzi shots of Shawn and Camila. His arms wrapped around her waist, whispering god knows what in her ear. Not even an hour ago he was spamming my phone with messages trying to talk to me, and this is what he’s been up to.

“Fuck that.” I grumble.

I close out of Twitter and start dialing before I can think twice.

“Y/n? Uh, hey, it’s been a while.”

“Hey, I need a favor.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get Harry to do me this favor. We aren’t the closest of friends anymore, but in our years in the public eye we’ve always managed to check in on each other. We’ve nearly crossed the line of friendship a few times, but ultimately decided that we didn’t want to lose each other because the media could just ruin it.

“Oh my god, are you Harry Styles?” I tease, running up to him for a hug. He lets out a loud laugh and rolls his eyes.

“You look absolutely smashing.” Harry grins, he reaches out a hand to spin me around. He’s successful in making me laugh.

“Thank you.” I grin, “I have to say, you look handsome as ever.”

His dimples grace his face and he turns us towards the car before I can see if he’s blushing.

The ride from the hotel we got ready at isn’t far at all to the VMA’s. Harry gets out first to offer his hand and usher me out of the car. The fans get louder and the camera flashes almost start instantly.

The woman running the event is giving us directions on where to go. We take our first few steps onto the carpet and start posing. It takes Harry pinching my side to pull my attention from smiling softly towards the camera.

“I think you’ve caught his attention, love.” He whispers.

I glance over Harry’s shoulder and he’s right. Shawn is by himself on the carpet, which is surprising, and he’s glaring in our direction. His jaw is clenched tight, I break eye contact before I can stair any longer.

“That’s not all this was about.” I reassure, “I wanted to go with you and have someone by my side. To actually have someone’s support. Pissing him off is just a nice bonus along with the nice PR.”

We finish the rest of the carpet together, ignoring all of the questions about dating and focusing on maintaining a polite smile. More people guide us to where our seats are. We are close to the stage which is unsettling knowing the acts that are to come.

Harry and I walk towards our row, which is the second from the front.

“So what awards are you up for tonight?” Harry asks, pausing before sitting down so we have a moment to stand before sitting for the next couple hours.

“I-”

“Y/n, I need to talk to you.” Shawn suddenly comes up to where we’re standing. I don’t even know where he came from, he should probably be back stage or something.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” I keep my eyes away from him, hoping to avoid whatever drama he is about to create.

“It’s been three days and you don’t return any of my messages or calls. This is the only time you can’t just ignore me.” He persists yet again.

“Mate, maybe later-”

“And what the fuck are you doing here with him? Are you kidding me? You’re mad at me so you find some other dude to fuck?” Shawn interrupts Harry without even a second of hesitation. People around us are staring, starting to listen to hear whatever is going on. Shawn’s voice is far from quiet at this point.

“Harry, I am so sorry for the way Shawn is acting right now.” I turn to look at Harry, completely ignoring the temper tantrum Shawn is throwing. Harry nods understandingly and being perfectly him. I take my cue to look at Shawn, “I think it would be best if you get the fuck away from me because I am not going to maintain this nice persona because people are around much longer.”

I motion for Harry to take his seat and I join him. Shawn just continues to stand in the isle, debating saying something.

“I’m sorry. It’s just-” He lets out a loud breath of air.

“What? Hard seeing me here with someone else?” He nods solemnly and I lean in closer before whispering, “Well, why don’t you go find your girlfriend.”

~

part two?? harry as a new love interest?? give me feedback:)

[emeraldeyes23]

Fictober/Fantober2020 -

Day 23 - Angels And Demons

Ash was dead, which was alright with him. He deserved death and had chosen to die. He wanted to free himself from all the pain and suffering, from his trauma and his nightmares. Death had taken all of that away. He had assumed he would set Eiji free as well. So everything should be over now. But somehow, it wasn't. When he came to, Ash was neither in heaven nor hell. Instead, he was standing at a beach in Izumo. At least that's what he was told. A strange voice echoed through his mind. 'Ash, your case is much more complex and complicated than that of most humans. You have only experienced pain, violence, and abuse in your short life, except for Eiji, who taught you friendship, comfort, compassion and love. To be honest, we weren't sure if you belonged in heaven or hell. You did some evil deeds, more than most humans, but you also led a much harsher life and suffered much more than most humans. So your case is unique. You look like a demon at times, but your soul is that of an angel, kind and good.' Ash wondered what he meant by that. He belonged in hell, wasn't that obvious? People even called him a demon or a devil. He was a mass murderer and a ruthless gang leader. The decision should be simple enough... 'Eiji's love towards you runs so strong and unconditional within him that it didn't stop with your death. He still loves you; his heart belongs to you forever. That's why he can't move on. He's still waiting for you to come back. Eiji is an angel with a kind heart and doesn't deserve his fate, either. Your case is special. So we decided to give you another chance. To change your fate. What would you do if you were given a second chance? A second life?' "Simple, I'd spend my life with Eiji. If he still wants me..." Look ahead. Don't you see him? Eiji was taking some photos at the beach and walked around barefoot in the sand. "Eiji! He's back and safe in Japan. That's a relief." Then Ash moved closer, scrutinizing his face. "Wait, this isn't Eiji. Why does he look so sad? He was supposed to be happy, to move on. Where's the light in his eyes I so loved? His eyes look so sad, and he forgot how to smile. This isn't what I wanted for Eiji. His eyes look dead, and his soul is suffering and in pain..." 'Ash, you were Eiji's light, his hope, his reason to live and smile. You were soulmates, but by choosing death, you broke your bond. Eiji suffers because of that. If you don't do something, he'll soon follow you. Soulmate's fates are also connected, and often the second one dies soon after the first one.' "No, I don't want that. What can I do?", Ash exclaimed in pure horror. "I didn't know we were bound like that. If I had known I'd hurt Eiji, I'd have never done that!" 'You have another chance to become human and save Eiji. Stay with him as a ghost or a noncorporeal entity. Try interacting with him. If he believes in you and can feel your presence or see you, you'll get another chance and become human again and can spend the rest of your life by Eiji's side.' "Where's the catch? There has to be one. It sounds too simple." 'You have three days. If Eiji hadn't believed in you by then, it's game over. Please remember that you're invisible, but if your bond is strong enough, he can see you eventually. But for that to happen, he has to know you're still with him. Good luck. If you succeed, you'll automatically turn into a human again and start a new life. ____________________ Ash stood at the beach and looked at Eiji. He hated the devastatingly sad look on his face, his pale skin, and his empty, emotionless eyes. He wanted Eiji to heal, but now the truth slowly sank in that Eiji wouldn't be happy without him. Ash had always loved Eiji, platonic friendship turning into romantic feelings over time. Yet, he hadn't realized that Eiji loved him as well, that their feelings were mutual. That's why he had firmly believed that Eiji would get over him with time and return to the life he had been used to in Izumo.

Even so, this Eiji standing in front of him wasn't what he had in mind. He hadn't realized that his death would destroy Eiji and would only leave an empty shell behind...

Ash looked at Eiji, sitting there at the beach and looking out to the sea. The loneliness he gave off was hurting more than any stab wound ever could. Ash clenched his hands and finally made a decision. He had to show Eiji he was there and set things right.

As if on cue, Eiji had turned his head and looked directly at the direction he was standing. That wasn't possible, right? He couldn't see him... or could he?

If you're dead, why does it always feel as if you're standing next to me? Sometimes I think I can feel your presence like now. Ash just stared at him. Could he really feel him?

He wrote a message into the sand right in front of Eiji. The sun was slowly setting, and they were alone on this beach by now.

I'm always with you. I'm sorry, Eiji. You were supposed to be happy after my death. I thought my death would set you free.

Eiji's eyes widened in pure disbelief as he stared at the words, then looked around in confusion.

"Ash?"

I'm here. I've missed you.

Tears streamed down Eiji's face while he sobbed, "I missed you, too." Then suspicion ran over Eiji's face. "How do I know you're Ash, and this isn't a sick prank?"

Ash smiled at that. Eiji had learned to be suspicious and wasn't that naive anymore. Good. Two sentences appeared in the sand.

You're not alone. My soul is always with you.

At first, Eiji covered his face with his hands and broke down crying. Yet, when he removed his hands, he managed to smile through his tears. Ash tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but, of course, it went through him. Still, Eiji reacted as if he had felt it and got calmer, wiping his tears away.

"Where are you, Ash? I can feel that you're here."

I'm standing directly in front of you.

Eiji reached out with his hand, and Ash reached for it with his until their palms touched. It felt like electric sparks flying around them. He saw in Eiji's surprised look that he had felt it, too.

If there was a chance you could see me again, what would you do?

"I'd do anything to see you again.", Eiji answered firmly without any hesitation.

Ash couldn't help but smile when hearing that.

I can only come back if you believe in me. In my existence here and now.

"I've always believed in you, Ash. I can feel your presence. But this time, it's stronger, so I know I don't imagine it. I just wish I could see your face again, those intense green eyes and your golden hair."

Then, even though Eiji couldn't see him, he hugged him. This was the moment where Ash could feel how his body turned solid, and he became visible. He was human again.

Pure astonishment ran over Eiji's face before the innocent and radiant smile dawned on Eiji's face, speaking his eyes sparkle with happiness. He held him more tightly and looked up at him.

"Ash, please tell me I'm not dreaming.", he said while tightening the grip around him.

Ash stroked the back of his head and pulled him closer.

"You're not dreaming. This time, I'll stay. If you still want me. Forever?", he asked while a hint of uncertainty resonated in his voice.

"Forever."

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 10 - Paper Rings 

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night

 Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause you waited your whole life

 The Hideaway was one of the few places in Hawkins that Joyce rarely frequented. Being a minor, she wasn’t allowed in after-hours but she wasn’t a huge fan of the grungy atmosphere the establishment presented anyway. She could count on one hand how many times she’s been here in the past decade, tonight being one of those times.

 Hopper had picked her up after her parents were asleep, signalling the usual way and watching from the car as she slipped out her bedroom window. Earlier at school, he insisted that they needed a night out to make up for lost time and Joyce, though initially she put up a fight, gave in and agreed to meet him. 

 They hadn’t talked about what happened (or almost happened) at the fair, but she could feel things beginning to shift between them. Today, they ate lunch together beneath the bleachers and laughed like they hadn’t laughed since they were kids. They agreed to move past all the bullshit and drama from the past month and move forward with their friendship, but neither of them forgot about what almost happened between them. Hopper made it clear that his feelings for her extended far beyond platonic, and she knew he was waiting for her to indicate that she was on the same page before jeopardizing what they almost broke, again. 

 He‘d surprised her by telling her he made arrangements for them to play pool in one of the back rooms of the Hideaway. Initially, she didn’t believe him when he told her that this was where they were going. They were underage and it was far past the hour when the bar opened, but he’d somehow managed to convince the manager, an old friend of his fathers, to hold a table for them. 

 “You ready to get your ass kicked, Horowitz?” he smirks while he adds chalk to the end of his pool cue. 

 They’re the only two people in the room, dimly light and buzzing with the faint sound of the neon signs lining the battered walls. The green felt-lined table lay beneath an old red and blue glass light fixture, surrounded by walls covered in random newspaper articles in pale wooden frames. 

 Hopper hands Joyce a cue and moves to rack the balls. Dressed in her leather jacket and a dark pair of jeans, she fits in with the bar aesthetic and he momentarily envies the way she naturally exists anywhere. 

 “I’m pretty good,” she fires back. She walks a few paces around the edge of the table and waits for him to remove the plastic triangle from the corralled balls. 

 “When have you ever played pool?” he asks. 

 “Josie taught me.”

 He gets quiet, her reference to the time when they weren’t speaking rendering him momentarily speechless. He hated himself for letting her slip out of his life so easily. 

 “Can I break?” she asks. 

 “Be my guest,” he gestures towards the table. 

 Leaning forward, one hand wrapped around the wooden cue, thumb propping up the edge, Joyce sends the white ball flying towards the others, which scatter across the table. She sinks a solid and follows up by sinking another before resigning to Hopper. 

 “Holy shit,” he remarks after her first turn. 

 “I told you. Get ready to lose,” she winks. 

 She takes the first game but loses the second and the third not-so-graciously. She whines that Hopper’s cheating when he takes the lead in the third game, even though they both know he isn’t. 

 Partway through their fourth game, Joyce loses interest and finds herself sitting between the corner and side picket, legs dangling from the edge of the table, while Hopper continues to practice around her. 

 “Aren’t you bored yet?” she pouts, leaning back with both palms on the table. 

 “Practice makes perfect,” he grins. On the opposite side of the table, he hits the red ball off the orange and sends it sailing towards her. 

 He rounds the table and stands in front of her, her body preventing him from continuing. 

 “You know you’re in the way, right?” he smirks down at her. 

 With doe eyes and a flirty smile, she stares up at him and tilts her head slightly to the left, “What if you’re in my way?” 

 “That’s not even possible. You’re just sitting there.”

 “I’m studying the game,” she lies. 

 “Oh?” he plays along with an amused grin. “And what are you learning?”

 He takes a step closer to her and her feet brush against his shins. 

 “That you’re not very good,” she laughs. 

 “And yet, I kicked your ass two, no three times.”

 “The last one doesn’t count. We never finished.”

 “Because you gave up,” he reminds her.  He takes another step towards her and towers over her while he reaches around her and encompasses a ball with his palm. His cheek grazes hers as he lunges forward, launching the ball into the side pocket with a self-satisfied grin. Without realizing it, he’s standing with both of his feet planted between where her legs dangle off the edge of the table. 

 Pulling back, their chests graze and Joyce gulps. Rather than step away once the ball is no longer in his grasp, he leans down and uses his thumb to raise Joyce’s chin until their eyes lock. 

 “What?” she chuckles softly.

 “I feel like I’m going to kiss you,” he admits. 

 He sees no sign of hesitancy in her eyes and closes the distance between them by planting his lips on hers with impressive force. She reacts by instinctively urging him forward with her heels, her hands settling in his hair. 

 His upper lip brushes against hers softly and unlike their previous kiss that was desperate and passionate and rushed, this one is slow and explorative. He takes his time with each movement, determined to memorize the curve of her smile and the way she tastes. Kissing her, it was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Something lit up in him and made every nerve ending in his body rejoice. If he were to compare it to a physical action, the only thing that would come close would be the swell in the air in the brief moment between the crackle of thunder and the crash of lightning. 

 When they finally part for air, he rests his forehead against hers and traces the outline of her lower lip with his thumb. Before he allows it to slowly roll off the center of her lip, she catches him off guard by biting down on it and raising an eyebrow suggestively. 

 Hopper reacts instantly, lunging forward once again to kiss her. She tumbles back with him this time, leaning back on her elbows while plunging her tongue into his mouth. Hopper’s knee rests on the edge of the table and he uses it to balance himself as he hovers over her. 

 The moment is broken when someone breaks a glass in the bar and the shattering sound echoes through the kitchen. Embarrassed to have let himself get so carried away, Hopper climbs off Joyce and extends a hand to help her up while using the other to straighten out his shirt. 

 “We should… um… I should get you home,” he mumbles. He drags a hand through his hair and tries to calm himself down with a few deep breaths. 

 “Yeah, we should,” she agrees flustered. 

 They gather their things and Hopper leads Joyce out to the car, his hand guiding her from its place on her lower back. 

 The ride home from the Hideaway is comfortably silent. Joyce has her feet kicked up the dashboard, one arm hanging out the window flapping up and down with the cool evening air. Hopper’s gaze flicks from the road to Joyce and back again, forcing a blush to settle over her cheeks. 

 Neither of them says anything but words aren’t needed. Everything felt like it was falling into place and words were a form of communication the pair never needed. Joyce smiles at Hopper and continues to stare out the window at the passing town while she wonders where this metaphorical road will lead them. 

 There was no going back, that much she knew, but it felt like the relationship she and Hopper had was progressing naturally towards something bigger and she was bursting with anticipation just thinking about it. 

 When they arrive at Joyce’s house, Hopper offers to walk Joyce to the door. She politely declines his offer, knowing that she’ll be far too tempted to resume the wordless conversation that begins at the bar. Hopping out of the car, she tells him she had a nice time and waves before beginning her climb up the side of the house towards her window. He waits for ten minutes after she’s tucked away in the safe confines of her bedroom and then begins the journey back to his own house, all the while smiling like an absolute fool. 

 While he was glad that he and Joyce managed to fix their friendship, he couldn’t help but notice that it was evolving into something more. He knew he made the right decision when he told Chrissy that his friendship with Joyce was too important to walk away from, but tonight, he realized that it wasn’t his friendship with Joyce that he was choosing. It was the hope that they could explore what this inevitable spark between them meant. 

 Joyce hadn’t exactly told him that she wanted to pursue the possibility of them, but if the way she kissed him was any indication of how she was feeling, he was positive that they were on the same page. 

 He knows it might be too soon, but to hell with precedent. He wanted to show Joyce what she meant to him by taking her out on a real date. 

 He was tired of pretending he wasn’t ready to fall head over heels in love with his best friend. 

 .

.

Joyce hadn’t seen Hopper since their steamy kiss at the Hideaway, being as he had an early morning workout with the football team and she spent the morning working on an essay in the library. He bounds into science class with a massive smile on his face and gives her a two-fingered wave as he takes his seat. 

 The bell rings and the lesson begins promptly, leaving no time for the pair to have a conversation. 

 Midway through the lesson that Joyce is only semi paying attention to, she feels a folded-up piece of paper land on her arm. 

 Amused, she looks over at Hopper, who she finds is staring back at her with wide eyes and childlike amusement. Shaking her head at his antics, she stealthily unfolds the note beneath her notebook and reads it.

 Go to the dance with me? -H

 She doesn’t outwardly acknowledge what it says, instead choosing to slide it under her notebook and force her focus to be on the lesson. She can feel Hopper glaring at her from his seat across the aisle but she doesn’t dare look over at him.

 Was he serious? Did he want to take her to the dance? He had to mean as friends, didn’t he? She’s a mess of what-ifs and is tingling excitement at the possibility that perhaps he meant what she wanted him to mean. Maybe he meant what he’d been telling her and his infatuation wasn’t just because he couldn’t have her. Joyce hates herself for being so hopeful, but he’d given her so many signs, how could she not hold out hope. Besides, just because she wanted him to be interested in her, didn’t mean that she trusted that this was something he actually wanted. It could have been a personal challenge to see if he could acquire what was unattainable. 

 When the dismissal bell rings, Joyce gathers her books, tucking the note between her middle and index finger and marches herself over to Hopper’s desk. 

 “Ha ha. Very funny,” she remarks, returning the note to him. 

 “I wasn’t joking,” he admits. 

 “Yeah right. Hop. Be serious.”

 “I am. I’m being dead serious. Come to the dance with me?”

 “I hate dances,” she reminds him. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather go with your friends or ask some girl you have your eye on now that you’re single?” She makes sure that her words don’t come out harshly so that he knows she doesn’t mean to be rude by reminding him of the recent change in his relationship status.

 “I did just ask the girl I have my eye on,” he admits. 

 Her draw drops open slightly, “oh.”

 “I know that the note was kind of lame but I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about this - you and I, I mean, and I really wanted to ask you.” He nervously runs his hand through his hair and chuckles. “As my date.”

 Joyce is silent for a moment while she attempts to process what he’s just said. She wants to say yes, to believe that they can be something together, but… for whatever reason, she can’t bring herself to trust that this is real. That it isn’t too good to be true. 

 Years of people letting her down had taught her that nothing was ever as good as it seemed and despite her knowing Hopper, the entire situation with Chrissy makes her doubt even how well she knows her best friend. He’d become a different person when he was with the blonde, what if he thought he wanted this and then changed his mind? It would leave her with nothing. 

 “Joyce?” The sound of his voice interrupts her thought.

 “You know I don’t dance,” she rolls her eyes. Lacing her arm through his elbow, she leads him to the door of the classroom. “What do you say we skip next period and have lunch under the bleachers?”

 “I wish I could but I promised Benny we could toss the ball around at lunch. Later this week, alright?”

 “Alright,” she smiles. She waves as he heads off towards the football field and lets out a long breath, grateful he hadn’t pushed the dance subject. 

 The next day after school, Joyce finds Hopper waiting at her locker. 

 “I thought you had practice after school today?” she questions him.

 “I do. I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the lake later?”

 “Hmm. I’ve got some homework to do. What time?”

 “I was thinking I could pick you up around 8?”

 “I’m not sure Hop. I shouldn’t.”

 “Joyce. It’s a Friday. Live a little,” he smirks and pokes her.

 “Fine. But pick me up at 9 o’clock instead.”

 “As you wish. See you at nine!”

Wearing her sneakers and leather jacket, Joyce flings herself into the front seat of Hopper’s car and immediately reaches for the radio dial. 

 “Hey! I was listening to that,” he whines as he begins to back down the driveway. 

 “We both know you like this song better,” she beams. He shakes his head because as always, she was right. 

 He can tell by the way she’s fidgeting in her seat that she’s in a good mood and it makes him smile. He adored seeing her happy. 

 He drives down the old country road that leads to the lake and appreciates the way he and Joyce can sit in complete silence without things feeling tense. She was the only person on the planet that he was content to sit in silence with. With anyone else, he felt the need to strike up a conversation, but with her it was simple. 

 Admiring the way the moonlight illuminates the side of her face, his focus shifts from the road to the girl riding shotgun. With her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and her lips painted what was becoming a familiar shade of red, she was radiant. The way her lips curve up into a slender smile and crinkle the skin at the edges of her eyes reminds him of a time when they were kids and he would spend hours trying to make her laugh just to see her smile. Her smile was like a drug to him; he was addicted and couldn’t get enough. 

 Joyce is staring out the window when they pull up at a red light and Hopper takes the opportunity to admire her. She has her elbow propped on the window, chin resting in her open palm while she leans forward through the open window and looks at the corner store across the road. 

 An impulsive thought urges Hopper to lean across the center console and kiss her. He doesn’t. He wants to but knows it would be irrational and impulsive. Joyce was not the type of girl that deserved impulse, she deserved a whirlwind romance and well-thought-out action. 

 He swallows hard as he swallows his sudden need to kiss her and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. 

 Joyce turns towards him and catches him staring, an action that forces them both to blush. 

 “What?” she asks. 

 “Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just looking.”

 “At me?”

 “At you,” he nods. 

 The light turns green and Hopper presses the gas pedal, moving the car through the intersection and in the direction of the lake. 

 When they arrive at the lake, they decide to stay seated in the car so they can listen to music and Hopper retrieves a bottle of Whiskey from the backseat and pops it open. He takes a large swig before cocking his head and offering the paper-bag-clad bottle to Joyce. 

 She kicks her heels up on the dashboard and crosses her ankles while mirroring his previous action and downing some of the alcohol. She sputters when it first touches her lips and Hopper laughs. 

 “Jesus Hop. That’s terrible!”

 “That’s why you need to drink more, so it begins to taste better.”

 “That is terrible logic,” she giggles. 

 “But you have to admit it makes sense.” 

 “Maaaybe,” she replies. She takes another sip and passes the crinkled bag containing the bottle back to him. 

 “So,” he begins nervously. “Have you given any more thought to what I asked you?”

 “I agreed to come to the lake tonight, I thought that was the answer?” 

 “The other question. The dance,” he reminds her. 

 “Oh,” she replies, “I told you. I don’t do dances.” 

 “Not even with me?” 

 A beat passes without either of them saying anything. “I’ll have to think about it,” she finally responds. 

 While she wanted to agree to go out with him, a huge part of her was holding onto the fear that Hopper’s invitation was lust-driven. It was childish, but for selfish reasons, she needed him to prove that he really wanted this. Her. She needed reassurance.

 “That’s not a no. I’ll take it,” he smiles. 

 They fall back against their seats and once again give in to the comfortable silence, wordlessly passing the bottle back and forth while staring out at the still waters of Lover’s Lake. 

 “Joyce,” he says, staring straight ahead. 

 “Mhmm?”

 “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how much I like the whole red-lip thing.”

 “Thanks, I like how you’ve been styling your hair lately,” she tells him. 

 Feeling impulsive in her own way, Joyce reaches across the car and rests her palm on his right knee. 

 Hopper stills beneath her touch and his pulse begins to race. He forces himself to relax and he asks her how her afternoon of homework went. She begins to explain the concept of the essay she’s working on and excitedly waves her arms around when she describes her stance on the topic. 

 He smiles and nods, doing his best to ask appropriate questions and listen to what she’s saying. 

 “Gosh I’m so sorry I’m rambling. You don’t care about my stupid essay,” she says. 

 “Joyce, I care about everything you have to say,” he tells her. 

 Smiling, she shifts herself close to the center console separating their seats and allows for her hand to shift up his thigh. Her thumb gently swipes across his upper thigh and she gives his leg a slight squeeze. 

 He looks down at her hand and gulps. Covering it with his own hand, he stills her thumb and they lock eyes. 

 “You’re playing with fire,” he warns her in a hushed tone. 

 “Maybe I want to get burned,” she flirts. She maintains eye contact with him while she speaks. 

 Hopper reaches across the car and runs his calloused hand along Joyce’s jaw line and up to cup her cheek, pausing to drag his thumb over her lower lip. Time moves slowly while his thumb rolls off her lip and drops down into the charged space between them. She gazes up at him through hooded want-filled eyes. 

 He leans closer, breathing laboured and closes his eyes. Lips hovering mere inches from hers, he breathes her in and prepares to close the gap between them. In the distance, a car horn blares and causes both Joyce and Hopper to jump and pull apart. 

 Joyce fiddles with the ends of her hair, twisting it through her fingers while she waits for Hopper to say something. 

 “Ugh,” he stutters, “maybe we should…”

 “Head home?” she finishes for him. 

 “Yeah. Since we’re going to have to walk, I’m afraid I’ve had a bit too much to drink.” 

 “A walk sounds nice to me,” she grins. 

 They begin the walk back to Joyce’s in the dark, travelling along the edge of the gravel path that’s faintly illuminated by the yellow-tinted street lights. 

 Joyce swings her arms at her sides, the warmth of the alcohol and the adrenaline of what almost happened in the car making her giddy with excitement and confidence.

 She takes another sip from the bottle and passes it back to Hopper, trailing one heel behind the other as she playfully walks the line between the grass and the road. 

 “What’s better, time travel or flying?” he asks.

 “Time travel.”

 “Agreed.”

 “Space or the ocean?” she asks in return.

 “Space. The ocean terrifies me.”

 “I know,” she responds. “Me too. It’s too big.”

 “Space isn’t too big?”

 “It’s a different kind of big. It’s mysterious in a good way. The ocean just reminds me of something that contains too many secrets.”

 “And it has squids,” Hopper adds. “I hate those things.”

 Joyce’s laughter rings in his ears and she takes a few staggering steps towards him and reaches for their shared drink. 

 “Squids? That’s the scariest part of the ocean?”

 “You can’t make fun of me, you’re afraid of spiders!”

 “They have so many legs!” 

 “So do squids!”

 “Let’s just agree to stay away from anything with eight legs?”

 “Deal.”

 “How was your week?” Hopper asks her.

 “Not too bad. My mom joined us for dinner last night.”

 “That’s good. Right?”

 “It was strange. She’s never home for dinner.”

 “Maybe she’s trying?”

 “I’m trying not to get my hopes up,” she admits.

 “What about you? Is your dad still bothering you about a football scholarship?”

 “Only every day. I doubt I’ll get one.”

 “You don’t think you’re good enough?”

 “I know I’m not. I love the game, but I don’t think it’s how I want to spend my life.”

 “And how exactly do you plan on spending it?”

 “Honestly, I have no idea. I figure I’ll just wait and see how things go next year. Wait until all the pieces fall into place.”

 “I like how that sounds. I think I’ll do the same.”

 “Well then, here’s to letting the cookie crumble,” he toasts, raising the bottle to his lips and then passing it to Joyce. 

 Without warning, a crackle of lightning flashes across the sky and thunder booms. 

 Quickly, Hopper takes Joyce’s hand and tries to run for shelter but she pulls her hand away and stays rooted in her spot in the center of the street. 

 With arms outstretched she stares up at the sky and lets the rain drops drench her face. 

 “What the hell are you doing?” he calls out to her from a few feet away.

 “Living.”

 “You’re crazy,” he calls back, laughing as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

 “Maybe,” she smirks. She raises her arms and twirls around, allowing the puddles forming at her ankles to splash up onto the edge of her jeans. “Maybe I’m out of my mind,” she giggles. 

 “Well?” she smiles over at him. Her hair is now completely soaked and stuck to her face, while the raindrops roll off the sleeves of her leather jacket. “Are you coming?”

 He stares at her, completely wonderstruck and shakes his head. Stepping towards her, he reaches for the paper bag containing the bottle and takes a large swig. 

 “This is insane,” he tells her.

 “Aren’t all the best ideas?” she replies. 

 “They are,” he nods, extending a hand to her. 

 He places the bottle down on the road when she curiously places her palm in his and lunges forward to scoop her up and hoist her over his shoulder.

 She squeals when he lifts her and laughs as he struggles to adjust and balance her on his shoulder. 

 “Put me down,” she laughs. 

 “Nah,” he smirks. He twirls them around, splashing through a massive puddle. 

 “Jim Hopper put me down this instant,” she demands. The rain had soaked its way through his shirt and the cotton fabric was now clinging to his muscular shoulders beneath her. She pretends not to notice but her palm falls on his opposite shoulder as she tries to wriggle free and it’s nearly impossible to pretend she’s oblivious to his physique. 

 “As you wish,” he replies, helping her down and directly into a puddle. 

 He keeps his hold on her once her feet are planted in the puddle and pulls her body into his. The rain makes the space between them misty and flattens Hopper's hair onto his forehead. 

 It’s raining even harder now, making it nearly impossible to hear without screaming despite their close proximity.

 “Ready?” Hopper yells down at Joyce.

 “For what?” she calls back. 

 He raises their intertwined fingers above her head and twirls her beneath their connected arms before tugging her back towards them and dramatically dipping her and clutching at her waist. 

 Her laugh, deep and real as she dips back and her long dark hair nearly dips into a puddle, sends shock waves through him that make him want to dance in the rain with her until the day he dies. It was raw and magnetic, her laugh. He wants to make her laugh like this all the time. 

 He twirls her outwards once again, revealing in the way her laughter gets louder with each twirl. On the final spin, he attempts to bring her back towards him but the rain causes his hand to slip and he loses his grip on her. She spins back into his chest with impressive force for someone who was hardly 5’4 and places both hands on his chest which is hardly covered by his wet shirt. 

 With wide eyes and a massive smile, she looks up at him and blinks through the rain. The energy between them shifts from light-hearted and fun to electrified and unknowing in a matter of seconds and it sends an excited chill down Joyce’s arms. 

 Instinctually, he leans down and cups her cheek in his hand. He presses his lips against hers, using his palms to anchor her against his body while she rocks forwards on her toes to meet him halfway. 

 They stand there, embracing, in the center of the street illuminated only by the misty dull light shining down from the lamp post up ahead. The rain continues to come down hard, but it makes no difference to either of them. 

 Standing on her toes, Joyce leans into Hopper, whose hands hold her petite waist while their lips softly graze against one another’s. 

 She was right, she thinks to herself as she kisses him. All the best ideas were insane. This, standing in the middle of the road kissing her best friend in the rain, was insane. 

 But it was everything.

 This moment would be etched in her mind until the end of time, she was certain of it. Dancing in the rain beneath the streetlights, it was the type of thing you saw in movies, not something that happened in real life. And yet, it was happening. She was living in a moment that was too good to be true.

 He made her feel like she had everything.

 With each gentle brush of his lips against hers, her stomach flutters and she grows more convinced that maybe they did want the same things. 

 Pulling back, she blushes and looks away. She needed to be sure of his intentions and that was something that shouldn’t be decided on during a heat-of-the-moment kiss. If she wanted to, she could let herself fall for him. It would be terribly easy to fall for a man like Jim Hopper. But she would fall hard and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pick herself up if he decided not to stick around to catch her. 

 She loved him. Unmistakably. Undoubtedly. But she needed to be sure that this, that she was it for him before she truly let herself fall. 

 “We should get you home before you catch a cold,” he says.

 “Alright.”

 “Wouldn't want to give you any more excuses to not go to the dance with me. Seeing as we just proved that you can dance.”

 “We wouldn’t want that, now would we.”

 “Does that mean you’ll go with me?” he asks hopefully.

 “No,” she laughs. “But nice try.”

 “I’m going to keep trying.”

 “I hope you do,” she tells him. It was the truth, she hoped he pursued their love story. 

 “Alright, grab that bottle and let’s go,” he smiles. Joyce walks back a few yards and retrieves their paper bag bottle. When she returns to Hopper, he takes her left hand in his and they begin the walk back to her house in the pouring rain, swinging their intertwined fingers between their bodies. 

 .

.

 “You’re late,” she smirks when she spots him ducking beneath the bleachers. “Mr. Cooper was just over here lecturing me.”

 Sitting with her back pressed against the concrete, she dangles a cigarette between her teeth and slides over to make room for him. He takes a seat next to her and plucks the cigarette from between her teeth, taking a long drag.

 “I was in class. Like you should have been.”

 “I thought we agreed to skip fifth and sixth.”

 “We did. But I had to run back to my car and grab something.”

 “Oh?”

 “This,” he says passing her a book, “is for you.”

 She accepts the novel and turns it over in her hand. It was an old copy of one of her favourites, but he knew she already owned multiple copies of it and the gesture confuses her. 

 “What’s this?”

 “Open it,” he instructs.

 Turning back the cover page, she notices he's placed two tickets for the dance inside the book. 

 “Hop,” she semi-groans and semi-smiles.

 “Let me take you to the dance.”

 “You’re relentless.”

 “Is it working?”

 “Maybe,” she flirts. “But try again.” 

 She pushes the tickets into his chest and steals her cigarette back. 

 “You’re cruel.”

 “Just trying to stay true to myself,” she reminds him. 

 “I love that about you, you’re you.”

 “I try to be.”

 The bell rings indicating the start of the next period and Joyce pushes herself to her knees.

 “Where are you going?”

 “I have a class to get to. It’s not my fault you took so long to get here.”

 “Skip it.”

 “It’s English. I like English.”

 “Lame.”

 “I’ll see you later. Thank you for the book,” she tells him. Leaning forward on her knees, she presses both palms to his chest and leans down to capture his lips in a surprise searing kiss. 

 When she pulls back and stands up, she notices he’s still rooted in his places, staring off into space completely dumbfounded.

 “Bye Hop,” she winks.

 He slips the tickets into his front pocket and stays sitting beneath the bleachers chain-smoking until school lets out for the day. 

.

.

The following afternoon, Joyce brings her homework into the backyard and props herself up on her usual branch to read. 

 She notices a pack of cigarettes next to her usual spot and picks them up to examine them. Turning them over in her palm she realizes that they must belong to Hopper. He was always smoking these god-awful unfiltered ones. 

 She wasn’t the biggest fan of them, often choosing to nag Hopper about his choice of smokes, but decides to light one while she reads and take advantage of the fact that he must have left them behind the last time he was up here.

 When she opens the package to retrieve one, a note falls out along with a ticket to the dance. Shaking her head with a chuckle, she picks up the note and unfolds it. 

 He was persistent, she had to hand it to him. 

 Leaning back against the bark of the tree trunk, she lights a new cigarette and places it between her teeth before she picks up the note and begins reading. 

Joyce, 

 There are a million reasons I think you should come to the dance with me, one of them is because I am absolutely crazy about you, but I’ll leave you with just this one reason. 

 I know you’re afraid that if this doesn’t work out our friendship will be ruined, but I promise you, we’re worth the risk. It’s like in that cheesy movie you made me watch a few months ago, where the main guy is trying to tell the girl that they should be together. You know at the end when the guy tells the girl that from that start, he just knew. I’m that guy, Joyce. I look at you and I just know. We’re meant to be together. You and me, we could be something. 

 So, this is me officially asking you to the dance. Not as my friend, but as my date. Because I want to date you. 

 Take the ticket and meet me outside the dance at 8:30 if you agree this is worth trying. I really hope to see you there.

   Hopper 

  Dropping the note to her lap, she pinches the bridge of her nose and reminds herself to breathe. In. Out. She’d never know Hopper to be a romantic, but this note and the words he’d crafted could only be described as such. 

 We’re worth the risk.

 She hears the words over and over again in her mind, the tone of his voice that she’d conjured up in her head soothing. 

 We could be something. 

 Breathe in. Breathe out. They could be. She knows it. If she let herself love him the way she knew she was capable of, she knew that nothing else in her life, no other connection, would ever compare. 

 Because I want to date you. 

 She gulps, fiddles with her thumbs and smiles. She wanted that too. As terrified as she was of taking this risk, Hopper’s ability to put himself out there, time and time again just to prove to her that he meant each word he said, gave her faith that she could push past her own fear. If he was willing to go through all of this just to show her how much she meant to him, shouldn’t she be willing to give him, them, a chance? 

 She wants to. My god, she wants to. 

 Give him a chance.

 Give them a chance.

 She wants more than anything to have the same amount of faith in herself that Hopper had in her. 

 If he was willing to go through so much effort to show her that he was serious about them giving a romantic relationship a chance, she should be willing to overlook the personal demons that plagued her and do the same. 

 Reading over the note again, she smiles to herself. This was really happening. They were going to give this a shot.

.

.

 Nervously, Hopper paces the length of the entrance. His dress shoes slap the battered pavement as he marches back and forth, hands pinned behind his back.

 He felt absolutely ridiculous in his powder-blue monkey suit with his hair groomed back. In one hand, he holds a cigarette. The other holds a box containing a corsage. 

 This was stupid. She wasn’t going to show up and he would be left standing out in the parking lot holding a box with a small flower, dateless. 

 Classmates arrive and enter the gym door behind him, some wave and tell him he looks nice but he doesn’t hear them. He’s too preoccupied wondering if she found the ticket he left for her. If she didn’t find it, would she show up?

 School dances had never been Joyce’s scene but this was different. He knew she was tempted to agree to go with him when he asked her the first time and again when he asked at the lake. He can’t blame her for being afraid. She didn’t have many constants in her life. 

 He intended on remaining one of those constants. 

 Something in him told him to have faith that she would come but with each passing minute his faith waivers. He wasn’t good enough for her. That much he knew. He was holding out hope that she was willing to give him a chance to try and be a man worthy of dating her. 

 He knew they were on the same page with their feelings. Though she hadn’t outright told him, he knew. It was written in her smile when he made her laugh, broadcast when she wrinkled her nose ever-so-slightly after kissing him and on full display whenever they accidentally touched. 

 Joyce had been jealous of Chrissy for all the reasons Benny once mentioned and had every right to be. He was an idiot for failing to realize what they had. Now, he just had to hope that he hadn’t realized too late. 

 He leans back against the wall next to the door, kicking his heel up to steady himself as he takes a long drag and exhales towards the sky. Pinching his eyes shut, he lets the sensation overcome him.

 “I hope you have a flask,” her voice rings through the parking lot. Hopper opens his eyes and finds Joyce standing a few feet in front of him. “Because I can’t do this shit sober.”

 She’s wearing a deep blue dress. It’s simple. Semi-puffy sleeves and a skirt that falls just below her knees, paired with her converse, of course. Joyce has her hair pinned back behind her ears where it falls over her shoulders. With red painted lips, she grins up at him and beams.

 “You look surprised,” she smirks.

 “I didn’t know if you’d come,” he admits. 

 “I considered staying home but someone left this,” she holds up the ticket,” for me and I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

 “Right,” he chuckles. Nervously, he steps towards her and reveals the box containing the corsage.

 “I thought you didn’t know if I’d come?”

 “I didn’t. I was being hopeful,” he tells her. “This is for you.”

 He opens the box and reaches for the small pale pink flower. Joyce extends her hand and lets Hopper slip the elastic band over her wrist. 

 “I wasn’t sure what colour your dress was but the women at the store said that this one was perfect for someone special.”

 “It’s beautiful,” she smiles. In awe, she stares down and admires it. No one had ever given her something so pretty. 

 “Should we go in?” he asks.

 “After you,” she beams, linking her arm through his elbow. 

 Arm-in-arm, Joyce and Hopper enter the school gymnasium which is covered in streamers and balloons. Though less extravagant than the prom set up, it looked nothing like the everyday gym and Joyce tenses at Hopper’s side.

 “Hey,” he smiles down at her reassuringly, “this is going to be fun.”

 The pair set off to the punch table where Hopper pours them each a glass of the clearly-spiked punch. They claim seats on the bleachers located on the far side of the gym and watch their classmates dance as they enjoy the bitter taste of vodka and powdered juice. 

 “So,” Hopper nervously claps his hands.

 “So,” Joyce echos. 

 “Is this awkward?”

 “The dance? Or?”

 “Us… being here together,” he explains. 

 “A little bit,” she admits. 

 “It doesn’t have to be weird. We can just act like we normally do.”

 “How do we normally act?’

 “Like us,” he beams. “Hopper and Joyce.”

 She rolls her eyes and laughs, “those are our names.”

 “You know what I mean. Come on,” he says, getting up and extending a hand to her. 

 “Where are we going?” 

 “Anywhere but here. This is extremely lame.”

 “Oh thank god. This is painful,” Joyce snickers. She places her palm in his and the two of them exit the gym and march back into the parking lot, hand in hand. 

 She notices a few of their classmates turn and stare while she and Hopper weave their way through the crowd towards the exit, no doubt whispering about their intertwined fingers but she doesn’t care. Let them talk, she thinks to herself. In fact, she would give them something to talk about. With a self-satisfied smile, she reaches over with her free hand and places it on Hopper's bicep with a squeeze. He leans into her in response and quickens the pace to the door. 

 “Where to?” she asks once they’re outside. 

 “Let’s start with a few of these,” he says, holding up a pack of cigarettes. He leads them through the parking lot to his car and leans against the hood while passing her an unlit cigarette. 

 “People are going to talk, you know,” she tells him.

 “About what?”

 “This,” she gestures between them. “Us. Being here together.”

 “Screw em. Let them talk all they want.”

 “You’re okay with that?”

 “If it means I get to do this,” he smirks and reaches for her waist. In one swift motion, he tugs her towards him, effectively trapping him between her knees and the car. “Then they can say whatever they want.”

 She shudders with anticipation and drops her cigarette when the last words roll off his tongue in a low, sultry tone. 

 “You were right,” she whispers. “It doesn’t have to be weird. It’s just the two of us.”

 “Exactly. Only now, I get to kiss you too.”

 “I don’t think we ever had a rule that said you couldn’t kiss me before,” she teases. 

 “Joyce,” he hums, drawing her in closer. 

 “Mhmm?” 

 “Just shut up and let me kiss you.”

 He leans down, hands planted on her hips, and brushes his lips against hers. Rocking forward on her toes, Joyce lets her body crash into his, anchoring one hand on his shoulder, the other on the car next to where he’s semi-seated. When Hopper reluctantly has to pull back and catch his breath, he rests his nose against hers and closes his eyes, desperately trying to remember everything about the moment. 

 Joyce initiates the next kiss and quickly their kisses grow sloppy and desperate. The gym door creaks open and a stream of students pour out into the parking lot, forcing the young couple to pull apart. Joyce props herself up against the hood of the car next to Hopper and asks him for a new cigarette, which he lights and hands to her. They joke about some of their clearly intoxicated classmates who have stumbled out of the gymnasium and Hopper places his arm around Joyce’s shoulders. When he’s certain the rowdy bunch hanging out near the door have returned to the dance, he leans over and steals another kiss. 

 “What was the for?” she laughs. 

 “Because I can.”

 “There you are!” Benny’s voice rings through the air. Hopper pulls his gaze away from Joyce and finds Benny staring at the two of them with a smirk. 

 “Oh, hey Joyce.”

 “Hi,” she waves. 

 “I wasn’t interrupting, was I?”

 “What do you want, Benny?” Hopper asks. 

 “Just wanted to see if you two wanted to join us for something to eat,” he informs them. His stare drifts down to where Hopper’s thumb is caressing Joyce’s shoulder and he adds, “unless you had other plans.”

 “I promised I would get Joyce home before curfew,” Hopper lies. 

 “Right,” Benny smirks, “Next time then. You look nice Joyce.”

 “Thanks. You too.”

 “You make sure to take care of my boy here,” he tells her. 

 “She always does,” Hopper says on her behalf. 

 “I’m sure she does,” Benny mutters beneath his breath. The comment earns him a glare from Hopper but Joyce doesn’t appear to have heard him. 

 “Anyways, I’ll let you two enjoy your night,” he waves. About damn time, he thinks to himself while he walks away. 

 “Hop, no one’s home. I don’t have a curfew?” Joyce looks at him confused. 

 “I know, but I don’t want to have to share you with anyone tonight. Now, you owe me a dance before we get out of here.”

 “I never said anything about a dance.”

 “One dance?”

 “Fine.”

 “Let’s go.”

 Back inside the gym, Hopper leads Joyce to the dance floor and places both hands on her hips. Following his lead, she clasps her hands behind his neck and lets him move them to the music. She’s vaguely aware of her classmates staring and buries her face in his neck to avoid their stares. 

 Their dance is far more intimate than anything Joyce has ever experienced and the feeling frightens her. As soon as the song ends, she panics and asks Hopper if he can drive her home. He nods and doesn’t press her for the reason. 

 He can tell her mind is racing on the drive home. She’s suddenly distant, staring out the window and fiddling with her thumbs. He reaches for her hand and gives her palm a gentle squeeze, his silent way of telling her that whatever it was that was bothering her wasn’t worth it. 

 When they arrive at her house, he cuts the engine and leans over to kiss her. Instinctually, she withdrawals and he pulls back looking hurt. 

 “Joyce? What’s wrong? What happened?”

 She’s quiet for a moment before she softly speaks.

 “Why?”

 “Why what?” he asks.

 “Why do you want this, me, so badly?” She’s voicing her insecurities and a huge part of him is grateful she feels comfortable enough to do so. 

 “Because I know you don’t want to believe this but you’re everything to me.”

 “Everything?”

 “Everything.” He nods.

 “Yes,” she says after a moment.

 “Yes, what?”

 “Yes, I’ll be your date to the dance.”

 “Are you feeling alright Joy? We just came from the dance.”

 “In your note, you said that you wanted me to agree to go to the dance with you because you wanted to date me,” she explains. “Doesn’t that mean if I agree to go with you I’m agreeing to dating you?”

 “But you already went to the dance with me,” he laughs.

 “Well then now I’m agreeing to the second part.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yes.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Hop?”

 “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking before I change my mind.” 

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

[claire-de-lune]

Alright here's my season:

Kato is an up and coming WOC influencer in Antwerp. She seems perfect (cue Amber freaking out over her in the first ep) but she's self conscious about being on the autism spectrum. She doesn't want anyone to know bcs she doesn't want to get on top bcs ppl feel "sorry for her", she's experienced enough of that, plus prejudice in her lifetime and sees social media as a way to portray the "beautiful" and "likeable" parts of herself. These are the possible storylines that could branch from that:

- the girl squad are the only true friends she's ever had, but she needs to let down some walls so they can truly get to know her, this is real life, the girls aren't looking at her profile, and Kato slowly understand that (here comes the seems perfect thing)

- white influencers are getting more clout and brand deals. (idk maybe she gets invited to a photoshoot thing but realises she's only there as a token minority)

- small things, like her getting educated about the #bodypositivity thing and why posting a picture of herself in a bikini in Greece does nothing for the hashtag or smth like that

- Kato learns to embrace all parts of herself and realises the toxicity and fakeness of SM. In the end she could become very outspoken about mental health, using her platform to raise awareness about issues she cares about (such as BLM)

Then, we could still add Moyo to the mix. They meet and we start the same way with him getting all big Macho upset that she rejected him and then someone from the girl squad calling him out on his behaviour and starts to reflect. Part of his side plot could be him apologizing to Kato for treating her badly and the two could form a friendship. This is how it would play out:

- Moyo apologizes and the two start talking more and more, building a friendship

- we learn more about Moyo's family life and why he lives dancing so much. This in turn helps Kato find her passion, dancing. Moyo could offer to teach her some moves and that's how she starts getting more involved in his life, meeting his dance friends and stuff.

- towards episode 7 they could kiss and get together, after slowly building a friendship that later turned into something more.

- Kato gets two things out of this. Her new found passion for dance and a boyfriend. They would take things slow bcs neither of them wants to fuck up and this would transition into S5, where we would see their bond be stronger after spending so much time building on it.

There's so much more but my fingers are tired of typing lmao

Oooo, I really like it. I love the part you said about her not wanting people to feel sorry for her because of her mental health or anything else because she’s experiences prejudice before. That would have been so nice to see somone who isn’t interested he Tupac all social media girl look make their way up, but still have their own struggles. Also the white influencers getting more deals and clout would have been amazing, seeing the struggle and hard work she puts in. Much harder than the other influencers who don’t look like her. Her speaking out on mental health a bf BLM instead of just the phycial beauty and perfectness aspect of being an influencer. 😩😩 that would’ve been sooo good. And her love story with Moyo I would’ve loved to see it. Your story is 10000000x better than anything WTFOCK could’ve come up with. And I would’ve loved to learn more about Moyo through her 😔

[seblos]

there’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach - ch 4/10

chapter title: you’re on, lovers!

word count: 1,995

[one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine (coming soon)]

read on ao3

“So,” Ashlyn leans over during history. “You and Seb, huh?”

Carlos looks up from the textbook he was reading in surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyes widening. It wasn’t Ashlyn talking to him that surprised him. They had become closer as rehearsals progressed. Also, when they both had lingered near the GSA poster, Ashlyn had struck up a conversation with him. Turns out she was bi, and theatre queers always stuck together anyway. It was her words, rather, that gets his attention. 

“I mean, you too stare at each other all through rehearsal, you sit together at lunch, he drives you home like every other day,” Ashlyn lists, and Carlos’s heart speeds up. Was it really that obvious? “So are you two together, or…” she trails off.

“No! I mean… not yet,” Carlos feels his cheeks heat up. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we were… but no.”

Ashlyn smiles. “Cool. If it helps, he totally likes you too,” she adds.

“How do you know?”

She shrugs. “I just have a feeling.”

“Did he tell you?” Carlos feels his stomach twist. As much as he wanted confirmation that the other boy liked him back, the idea of hearing it from Ashlyn rather than him felt wrong.

“No,” she says, and Carlos lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I mean, I haven’t asked him since I thought you two were already a thing. But we’re in baking club together and when I asked about you he kinda lit up.”

“Oh, okay,” Carlos nods, and his heart swells. “So what should I do about it?”

Ashlyn shrugs again. “I dunno, ask him out?”

He blushes. “No.”

“Alright, that’s on you,” she said. “But you should ask him to hang out or something. Get closer to him, so when you are ready it won’t be awkward.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to ask out Seb,” Carlos mumbles. “I’ve never dated anyone. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend.”

Ashlyn smiles sweetly. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t either. It’s something you can figure out together, you know.”

After she says that, their teacher scolds them for talking, and the two bend back over the worksheet they’re supposed to be working on. As he stares at the textbook, though, Carlos can’t help but think about what Ashlyn said. They would be figuring it out together. It’s hard to believe that someone like Seb could possibly like him back, but it might just be true, and the idea of it makes Carlos’s heart leap to his throat.

—

“Every time we end rehearsal early, I feel like my life is a lot more like Glee than I think it is,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes as he zips up his backpack from yet another badly ended rehearsal. They had barely lasted half an hour today. At this rate, they’re never going to get the blocking done by the show. 

Seb laughs from where he’s organizing his sheet music over at the piano. Everyone had already filed out of the room, but Carlos purposely had taken his time, knowing that Seb would most likely be the last one out. By this point, it was just routine.

“To be fair, Miss Jenn was definitely a Rachel Berry in high school,” Seb comments, stuffing the folder in his backpack, and Carlos snorts lightly. “So,” he says, swinging his backpack onto his back. “Since rehearsal ended early, I’m assuming I’m driving you home?”

Carlos is about to say yes until he remembers what Ashlyn had told him earlier. Before he can overthink it, Carlos asks, “Or we could hang out? Since it did end so early… could we do chem homework or something together at my house?”

Seb looks surprised at first, and Carlos’s heart is still beating quickly, but the shock wears off quickly and is instead replaced with a smile. 

“Sure, I’d love to,” Seb says. 

As they’re walking out together, their hands brush together for a moment, and Carlos can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. He debates grabbing Seb’s hand for a moment but ends up just grabbing the strap of his backpack instead to resist the urge.

Carlos swears that he sees Seb’s expression drop for just a second, but it’s so quick he probably just imagined it.

They still end up having Georgie give them a ride, who is surprisingly not upset about having driven all the way to the school just to drive the two of them back to Carlos’s house. Rather, she just gives Seb a sort of half-smile. He immediately blushes, giving her the stink eye, and Georgie just laughs.

On the ride over, though, Carlos realizes what they’re about to do. Seb is about to be in his house, in his room. He doesn’t know the last time he’s had someone in his room since 7th grade. Sure, Seb knows about his weird, split family already, but the idea of him experiencing it is so much scarier for some reason. He tried not to overthink it as Seb stepped into his house. 

“Carlos? Is that you, mijo?” his mother calls as he shuts the door, and Carlos suddenly realizes that he should have checked with his mom if Seb could come over before he invited him. To be fair, though, he’s never really done this before. 

“Hi, mamá!” He says as his mom steps into view. “I brought Seb over to work on some chemistry homework, I hope that’s okay.” 

He’s expecting some sort of disapproving look or passive aggressive comment about checking with her before bringing someone over. Instead, “So this is the Sebastian I’ve heard so much about!” is what his mother says, much to his surprise. 

“It’s great to meet you, Ms. Rodriguez,” Seb says with a smile, and his mom raises a sly eyebrow at Carlos, who only gives her a look in return. 

“Seb, are you staying for dinner?” she asks, turning her attention back to the boy.

“Oh, no, I need to be home to finish my chores. Thank you so much though!” 

“Chores, huh?” Now it’s Ms. Rodriguez’s turn to smile. “You could learn something from this boy, Carlos.”

Carlos just rolls his eyes. “I do some chores!” He defends. “Also, I told you mamá, Seb lives on a farm. His chores are a bit different from mine.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you two get your homework done,” she dismisses them, and Carlos leads Seb upstairs to his room.

When they first enter it, Carlos immediately goes to his bed. He motions for Seb to sit down, who does so hesitantly. Neither of them say a word for a moment, and Carlos worries that he’s made a mistake inviting Seb over here. 

As if on cue, Seb breaks the silence.”So, you talk about me to your mom, huh?” he teases, and Carlos hits him with a pillow.

“To be fair, she asked about you,” he says, which releases the tension as both of them relax, getting back to their normal selves.

They both take out their chemistry homework, but it ends up lying abandoned on Carlos’s desk in favor of the two of them discussing theater and rehearsal.

“Can I just say, your facial expressions while Nini and EJ were singing were priceless! If I wasn’t so focused on hoping that this rehearsal would actually stay together, I would have lost it watching you.” Carlos laughs, and Seb glares at him harmlessly. 

“Let’s just say I definitely liked out version better! I’m telling you, trying to keep a straight face was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Surprised I can do anything straight, to be honest,” Seb says cheekily from where he’s laying on his stomach the foot of Carlos’s bed.

(The joke doesn’t exactly take Carlos by surprise, but just the casualness of it does. He had only ever made those kinds of jokes with Ashlyn, and had forgotten that he was able to make them with Seb too.)

“I love Nini, I do, but sometimes her ability to jump from boy to boy surprises me,” Seb continues. His phone lights up with a text notification, and he picks it up to read. “Speak of the devil, Nini just texted to tell me that she and EJ have officially broken up. Blocked his number and everything.”

“Wow,” Carlos raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you and Nini were friends.”

“Yeah, well, we met when we were young. Only other kid I knew that had two last names, which we decided to be the basis of our friendship, I guess. I ended up transferring schools, and I guess she skipped a grade or something because we didn’t meet again until last year when I got to East High and we got reintroduced during Brigadoon,” Seb explained.

Carlos nods along. He knew that Seb didn’t go to the middle school he had gone to with Nini and Ricky and all the others, but somehow it never occurred to him that he knew them before high school.

“I never really got close to her,” Carlos says, surprising himself. “I mean, we're friendly, but I guess I didn’t really think we had much in common. Plus Gabriella isn’t in any of the huge dance numbers, so I guess that’s how I ended up migrating more towards you and Gina.” 

He’s never really talked about his differences with the rest of the cast with anyone else because, well, he doesn’t really talk to the cast in general. Part of him wants to open up to Seb about the weird balance of being a sophomore who has some sort of authorial power over the upperclassman, but he can’t exactly put it into words and it hurts his head to think about. He files that thought away for later as Seb starts talking again.

“Are you calling me a dancer?” He asks, sticking his leg up for a moment. His tone is joking, but the smile across his face seems genuine, and it makes Carlos’s heart melt.

“Mmm, you could use some work,” he says, looking Seb up and down as if he’s judging his form, causing Seb to blush lightly. “No, but actually, you are a really good dancer. Compared to some of the others at least,” Carlos laughs, and Seb joins in.

“Wow, so kind of you,” he says, rolling his eyes although the smile is still spread across his face. “I’m kidding, I don’t even begin to compare to Gina and some of the ensemble. I would kill to be able to move so easily like that.”

“I think you’re doing fine, considering your lack of dance training,” Carlos says, and now it’s Seb’s turn to hit him with a pillow. “Although…” he starts as he considers how this idea will go over with Seb. “If you wanted to, I could give you dance lessons? Like before school or something?”

He’s expecting Seb to reject the idea or come up with excuses. Instead, the other boy's eyes light up and he props himself up on his elbows. “Really?” he asks excitedly, and Carlos sits up straighter.

“I mean yeah, if you genuinely want to improve and you want extra time practicing,” he says with a smile. “We could do once a week, or non-rehearsal days, whatever is best for you!”

“Non-rehearsal days would actually be perfect!”

“So do you want to start this Friday?” Carlos asks since that would be their closest non-rehearsal day. “Maybe, like, 7:00? Gives us about half an hour before homeroom. Or is that too early?”

Seb shakes his head. “I’m up every morning at 5:30 in the morning anyway, so 7 works fine for me!” he smiles.

Carlos smiles back before he processes what Seb had just said. “Geez, 5:30? That’s so early,” he says disgustedly. 

The way Seb laughs makes his head spin, and suddenly Carlos doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to survive private rehearsals in a few days. 

[lifeofanerdygirl]

If I Just Lay Here, Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World?

After the arrival of everyone and learning about Crisis, Kara takes a moment away from the chaos to process her thoughts alone in peace. However, she is interrupted by an unexpected visitor and they have a much needed moment to themselves. 

//

The command station at the DEO was the busiest it’s ever been containing agents, various superheroes and others helping aid in the fight. It wasn’t that long ago when Kara finally found out that a wave of antimatter was spreading across the different Earths and destroying them in a matter of seconds. The thought of losing her home and the people she loved once again weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Soon everything became too much and she found herself wandering the halls looking for somewhere to collect her thoughts in peace. She eventually located the perfect spot, one of the several rooms at the DEO that served as temporary bedrooms, normally used by agents who needed a place to sleep during their long shifts. She opened the large, metal door, made her way across the room and sat down on one of the beds, hanging her head down towards the floor. 

The room consisted of two neatly-made beds, one on each side of the room, with a nightstand next to them and a dresser a few feet from the foot of the bed. The walls were white and barren, but a good-sized window was located in between the two beds, allowing for enough sunlight to enter the room and making it feel less like a prison cell.

She shifted her position and laid down on her back, head facing up towards the ceiling. The bed wasn’t as comfortable as the one she had at home, but it was better than any couch she had fallen asleep on.

That was when the pain hit like a kryptonite knife to the heart, engulfing her entire body. There was no stopping the tears from falling from her eyes and the small sobs from escaping her mouth.

In this case, she wasn’t experiencing any physical pain, but somehow this emotional pain seemed a lot worse. She was about to lose her world again and the people she loved. It seemed like lately, all she experienced was loss and pain.

What sucked the most was that the one person who she needed right now and could comfort her the most hated her, therefore making her feel alone and empty. Yes, she had her sister, her cousin and other friends for support, but all she wanted, no needed, was her best friend Lena. Lena, Lena, Lena.

Her secret had broken them. Lena had let her in and trusted her, only to realize that their friendship was built on lies. Now Lena was in so much pain from all of the betrayals she had experienced throughout her life and her secret had just made everything worse. It hurt her to see how much pain she had put Lena in. Her heart couldn’t take it. However, whenever she tried to talk to her she couldn’t get through to her as Lena just thought she was spewing more lies. She wondered if she would ever get her best friend back.

All of a sudden she heard a knock at the door, startling her from her thoughts. She craned her neck up to see the door being pushed open and a raven-haired woman appeared. Lena. She slowly shut the door behind her and took a few steps forward. She was wearing a dark blue three-piece suit and black ankle boots. Her hair was down and straight. While at first she looked put together, once Kara saw her face, she realized this wasn’t the case. Lena looked like she hadn’t slept in days and her eyes were red and tear-stained. This caused more tears to form in Kara’s eyes and she quickly set her head back down and closed them. On one hand, she was happy to see her, but on the other, she was afraid of what Lena was going to say. After a moment, Lena walked over to the other bed and laid down, mirroring Kara’s position.

They laid like that for a while, neither of them speaking. They both just stared up at the ceiling lost in their own thoughts. How much time had passed, Kara couldn’t guess. It could’ve been a few minutes or it could’ve been half an hour.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now, Alex filled me in on as much as she could, and I don’t want to fight anymore,” Lena finally says, breaking the silence. Her voice sounds worn and exhausted.

Kara doesn’t say anything and just waits to see if she’ll continue. After a moment she does.

“I want to be here for you, but I don’t know if I can. I'm not ready to forgive you for what you’ve done. I let you in and you betrayed me. You broke my heart and I don’t know how I will recover from that. However, I don’t want to argue with you anymore. It’s exhausting and right now I need all of my energy so I can focus on this Crisis matter and I know you do as well. We need to put all of this aside and work together. I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s what has to be done. The world is literally at stake here. After all of this is over then we can see where we’re at and go from there.”

Kara takes a moment to consider her words before responding. Lena gives her all the time she needs and patiently waits for her response.

“Thank you for wanting to be here for me. It means a lot. Hopefully, after all of this is over I can tell you my story from the beginning, that is if you want me to. Also, I understand that you’re not going to forgive me right away and that it will take some time. Arguing with you has been so hard on me and all I want is for us to go back to being friends again, no matter how long it takes. I know how much I hurt you by lying to you. I should’ve been honest with you about my secret. As much as I want to work this out now, I understand that we can’t. You’re right in that the best thing for us is that we put all of this aside and deal with the Crisis matter first. Then after all of this is over, hopefully, we can work on being friends again if you still want that.”

Once more, the room is silent. She knows that the fact that Lena came here must not have been easy, whether it was of her own accord or if Alex or J’onn had persuaded her to come. Before, no matter what she had said, she just couldn’t get through to Lena. It appeared that she had decided to give Kara a second chance. 

After a minute, she hears Lena get up off the bed. She expects to listen to her walk over to the door, open it and leave, but instead, she feels a presence at the edge of her bed. She turns her head up towards her and notices tear-filled green eyes expressing pain, sadness, and exhaustion staring down at her. All she wants to do is sit up and give her the biggest hug, but she restrains herself. No, it’s too soon for that.

"Can I lay here with you?” Lena asks. “Just for a moment?” She quickly adds.

Kara is surprised by this question, as she thought Lena didn’t want to be near her, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns on her side, facing Lena and moves closer to the wall, practically touching it, to give Lena some space to lay next to her. Lena gets into the bed but makes sure to face away from her. There are only a few inches in between them, but it feels like they are miles away.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound is their breathing and for Kara the addition of Lena’s racing heart. She decides to take a chance and lifts her hand up and hesitantly rests it on Lena’s upper arm. Kara expects her to flinch and pull away from the contact, but instead, Lena accepts it and lets out a sigh. A sigh of relief maybe? Of exhaustion? She isn’t too sure, but Kara is happy that she accepted her comforting gesture. Even though it may seem like a small one, for them it's more than that and hopefully a step in the right direction.

“I miss you,” Lena says a couple of minutes later. Her voice is barely a whisper and her eyes fill with tears once again.

“I miss you too,” she says.

They lay there in silence, Kara’s hand remaining on Lena’s upper arm, just enjoying each other’s presence. As much as she wants to wrap Lena up in her arms and hold her close, she doesn’t want to push too far. She is completely content with how they are now, even though no words are being exchanged.

All of a sudden, shouting can be heard from down the hall followed by footsteps. They immediately sit up and look toward the door and then at each other.

“Well, I think that’s our cue to get back out there and go save the world,” Kara says.

“Let’s go save the world,” Lena replies, giving her a slight smile.

They get up and make their way towards the door, Kara opening it for Lena and head back towards the command station where everyone is located. They may not be back to friends yet, but at least it seemed like they were headed in the right direction.

//

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! I know I’m not the best and don’t consider myself a writer, but I enjoy writing one shots when inspiration hits.

[killmongerkink]

Just A Friend

Summary: You meet up with your ex, trying to come to terms with your relationship. 

Pairing: Adonis Creed X Black!Reader

Warning: angst

Length: 3.3k

BTW: so this is my first time writing something like this. i usually got for cute plots, but decided to make this one kinda sad (i guess? lol). hope you all enjoy & please give your honest feedback on your thoughts. sorry if there’s any typos.

MASTERLIST 

You busied yourself by idly tapping your finger against your glass, the water condensation wetting the pads of your fingers and causing you to momentarily have something else to think about. It was currently 8:08 pm, you knew the exact time since your phone was right in front of you and wouldn't stop lighting up. Some were notifications from instagram and twitter, while others were from your boyfriend, questioning where you were. Adonis sat across from you, looking everywhere but at you, while you both waited for your drinks to arrive. You didn't know why you agreed to meet up with him. The both of you were well aware that a relationship wasn't something that could work, yet you guys couldn't stop wasting each others time.

There were multiple reasons why you both decided to call it quits a few months back. You were too busy with school and work, he was too busy training and going to boxing camps. Both of you were just in your own worlds, trying to make something of yourselves and dragging each other along for the ride wasn't smart if you had to be honest. With those being just a few reasons why, there was one main one. 

You couldn't handle his lifestyle.

At the beginning, you thought you could be that girlfriend cheering from the sidelines. That girlfriend running up to him after a win and kissing him lovingly, busted lip and all, but after watching a few of his matches .. you just couldn't stomach it. The sight of seeing someone you cared about getting hit was just too much. You knew it came with the territory, he wasn't invincible and he would have to take punches just as good as he gave them, but fuck ... why did they have to be so brutal? And the nerve of him to ask you if he should incorporate MMA training into his routine. That was your final straw. You were tired of seeing him barely responsive after a fight, tired of seeing his face bloodied and bruised, and espiecially tired of the dreams you would have about him. Ones where he would end up in the hospital, barely hanging on. It took you a while to come to terms with the fact that you just weren't built to handle all of that, even though you wished you could. And that's why you both decided to move on, yet here you were. 

Whenever he was free, he would send you a simple text asking if you were busy. Whether you were or not, you'd reply with your usual "no, why?", which would result in you both sitting in silence a few hours later. There was never anything to really talk about. Between social media and mutual friends, you knew what was going on in his life and he knew what was going on in yours. 

He was spending his days in the gym, preparing for some fight that was taking place next Saturday. You made sure to keep that date open .. just because. It's not like you were hoping he would invite you or anything. When he wasn't in the gym, he was usually home. His snapchats consisted of him going on rants about pay per view fights he'd seen the night before or the latest album that dropped. Overall, he was doing good since the two of you went your separate ways. You were happy for him. Your life on the other hand wasn't all peaches and creme. College had started to take a toll on you, leading to late nights and early mornings, worrying if graduating was even worth all the mental and emotional stress that came with it. If you weren't dealing with school, you were at work. Your job as a lyft driver was cool, it brought in a good amount of money. The only downside were the nights you'd pick up drunks or a racist who thought you weren’t worthy enough to drive them. Then .. there was Shawn. You met him about a month and a half after your situation with Adonis ended. You weren't ready to jump into anything with anyone, but Shawn was nice, respectful and made you laugh. Besides his jealous streak, he wasn't a bad guy to have around. 

You lifted your eyes from your glass and looked at Adonis. He still looked the same. Handsome as ever and in the best shape of his life. His biceps were larger than before, the veins in his arms bulging as his hands were folded. Resisting the urge to lick your lips, you shuffled in your seat and wiped your wet hands on your jeans.

"You okay?"

A part of you wanted to say no. You weren't okay. You weren't okay with your casual meet-ups. You weren't okay with sitting across from him and not being able to touch him. You weren't okay acting as if everything in your life was great. You were using some guy to get over the one sitting in front of you. You felt horrible about it.

"I'm fine." 

He didn't believe you. You could tell by the way he dipped his head low to try and make eye contact with you. When both of your eyes met, neither one of you said anything. Just stared at each other, silently challenging to see who would be the one to look away first. Your little contest ended early when the waitress came by with your drinks. Beer for him, lemonade for you. After asking if you guys were ready to order, you both declined and you figured that would be her cue to walk away, except she took that as the opportunity to ask 

"Are you sure?" to Adonis directly. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought you were invisible as she turned her body in his direction, a small smile showing from the corner of her lips.

"He's sure." You answered her as you eyed the back of her head. A chuckle rose in your throat as you watched her turn towards you, obviously unhappy with your intrusion on her flirting and she nodded her head, finally walking away. Your dinner partner across from you waited until she was out of earshot before laughing, his head bobbing back and forth from the force of his laughs.

"What's so funny?" You inquired, raising your eyebrow. 

This was definitely an occurring problem whenever you went out with him. Girls and guys would both try to approach him, even though they could clearly see you with him. No, you guys weren't dating, but they didn't know that. The fact that people were so bold to hit on others that were clearly out with someone else made you want to hurl. What was wrong with people?

"Nothing, you just as snappy as you've always been. Just ... missed that. That's all." He mumbled before taking a big gulp of his drink. 

Shaking your head, you tried not to let his comment get to you. So he missed you? No, he missed you being snappy. That's what he said. That didn't mean he missed you. If he missed you, he would've said that ... right? But he didn't. So did he only miss you going off on people? Why were you even overthinking this? Why did you care so much about deciphering the meanings of his words. 

You ignored the voice in your head. The reasonable voice that would always say how much of a mistake you were making when you'd stand in front of your mirror to pick out something Adonis would like. The smart voice that would say the more you met up, the harder it would be to get over him. The voice that would tell you how much you'd regret giving him your time, knowing damn well that if he asked you to stay out later that you'd comply in a heartbeat.

"Yeah? Well ... cool."

"That's all you have to say?" He asked.

Choosing to ignore him, you swirled the straw in your drink. What was he expecting you to say? Maybe he could've still been experiencing your snappy remarks if he had taken your feelings into consideration in the past. There were many nights where you would talk to him about him boxing and if he would ever stop. You knew the ring was something that was close to his heart. It's what made him want to wake up in the morning. It's what motivated him to keep his head on straight and stay focused. While you loved that he had found his passion in life, you couldn't deal with the harm and stress he was putting on his body. It only took you two times watching him get knocked out to know that you weren't built for that life. It wasn't easy watching someone you cared about being put in harms way .. or harms fist if you wanted to be honest. The murderous looks he and his opponent would share before a fight made you uncomfortable. You knew all about his father and his unfortunate death, that being the main reason why you couldn't sit back and support his dreams up close. The thought of him leaving this world like his father brought tears to your eyes. What would you do if the same thing were to happen to him? 

Adonis must've noticed the look on your face because he reached over to grab your hand. Coming back to reality, you jumped slightly and pulled back, tears brimming your eyes as you fought with the need to cry. You'd didn't want to do this here, not with him in front of you. You'd spent so many nights crying over this bullshit, why were you still getting yourself worked up over him? Because you love him.

"I don't.." you whispered to yourself.

"You don't what?"

"I don't know why I keep doing this with you. These .. dinners where we just sit here and act like everything is okay. It's not okay, alright? We broke up for a reason and there's no point of trying to have some friendship that we know is impossible. Lets just end everything right here, right now."

He sucked his teeth, his phone hitting the table loudly as he threw it down and sat back in the booth. A couple from a few tables away looked in your direction, your peripheral vision catching the look of confusion on their faces. You just wanted to go home, lay in bed and forget ever coming here. 

"That's not what you want and you know it."

"You don't know what the fuck I want." 

"Aight .. maybe not, but I damn sure know what you need and it's not that bum ass nigga you fucking with now. I know you. I know how you act when you're genuinely happy, and you ain't with him. All that forcing and shit you be doing online when y'all together, knowing damn well he ain't got it like me. He ain't man enough for you."

"And how do you figure that? Because he doesn't feel the need to act like he's some macho man? Because he's actually caring and sweet and doesn't push my opinions and feelings aside? Taking a few punches doesn't make someone a man, contrary to your beliefs."

You could see his tongue run across his teeth, pushing his lips out and letting you know just how annoyed he was getting. The nerve of him to act as if he had any real reason to be upset. 

"You know ... fighting is all I ever wanted to do when I was a kid. It's the one thing I have in connection with my Pops. When I wrap my hands and put on those gloves, I can literally see him smiling in my head. Do you know how it feels to have strangers tell you about your own father? How it feels to have people who were lucky enough to have known him tell you about what a great man he was, what a great fighter he was? And when you try to do the same thing, they do nothing but tear you down and act as if you're a stupid fucking kid? My Pops died in the fucking ring, you know that .. everyone knows that. He also could've died walking down the street. He could've died at the hands of a gangbanger or a cop. Shit, they all the fucking same anyways. Point is .. I could die tomorrow doing something totally unrelated to the ring. If I wanna fucking fight until I have brain damage, Imma do that. I'm gonna do what makes me happy, just like my Pops did. And if I die the way he did ... then I died fighting and I ain't got a problem with that. I'm not asking you to accept everything that I fucking do, but damn baby .. atleast see things from my side one in a while."

Your blurry vision due to the tears were fighting at the edge, one blink threatening to break the dam and release the flood. Attempting to even speak was out of the question, your bottom lip trembling letting you know that it would've been a dumb decision. This was the first time that Adonis had ever taken the time to fully explain what boxing meant to him. You always thought that he was just trying to prove himself and be tough. That he was trying to make others believe that he was worthy of being the son of someone so great. Never did you know how he truly felt, how he was just a young man trying to fufill the same dreams his father once had. Looking back, you'd never known Adonis to do anything he didn't truly want to do. He could care less about how others viewed him, what they they thought and how they felt, which was a good or bad thing depending on which way the wind blew that day. A hot tear running down your face broke you from your thoughts, your handle fumbling quickly to wipe it before he could see, but of course nothing could get pass him. He had tears of his own that he was too proud to shed, his nose now red and flared. 

Before you could make up some excuse for needing to leave, he was rising from his seat and pulling you in. Lips meeting awkwardly at first, his hold on the back of your neck calmed you down as you both fell into a dance. You hadn't been kissed like this since the last time you both were together and although you knew you should've been pushing him away, you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together as your tongue stroked against his. The taste of beer engulfed your mouth, forcing you to shudder and remember the good times.

"You actually drink that stuff?" 

You gave Adonis a curious look, watching as his index finger wrapped around the neck of his corona, his middle finger and thumb assisting it in gripping the bottle in a simple, yet sexy way. You would've thought he was ignoring you if it wasn't for the soft grunt he released after, bringing the bottle back to his lips.

"Can I have some?"

Confusion filled his face quickly. As much as you dragged him for drinking beer, the last thing he expected was you asking to take a sip. He curled up the corner of his lips, giving you a 'stop playin'' look and causing you to pout. 

"Please? Just a little taste."

Unbeknownst to him, you didn't want it from the bottle. When he held it out for you, you shook your head quickly and leaned forward, eyeing his lips. 

"Let me taste it another way."

You mumbled, leaning it to kiss what was yours.

The bell jingling above the entrance pulled you from your thoughts and you opened your eyes, catching a short glimpse of the new customer before your hands were meeting Adonis's chest and pushing him away. His back met the booth roughly, his lips still glistening as he gave you the evil eye out of anger, confusion and lust. You knew that look better than anyone. 

You muttered a ‘sorry’, already knowing that in a few seconds your meet up would be coming to an end. Staring at him in the eyes, you wanted nothing more than to just hold him. You didn't realize just how much you missed him until you felt his embrace, why did things have to be this way? As you saw the tall figure approach your table in your peripheral, you gave Adonis a sad smile, your hands making quick work of drying what ever tears were left on your face. The questions, concerns and anger that would be directed to you if your face was seen wet and puffy were the last things you wanted to deal with. Seeing Shawn drained you of all your energy, you really didn't have it in you to deal with a fight tonight. 

"Shit.." 

"What?" Adonis scrunched his eyebrows together, leaning his head down to make eye contact with you.

He didn't have a chance to ask another question before Shawn was stepping in, looking between the both of you in confusion. You hadn't told him that you were meeting up with anyone, but you knew he had friends all over and someone probably spotted you with Adonis. Time seemed to have halted, the people around you moving in slow motion. 

You saw Adonis turn his head, jaw clenched to the point where you worried for his teeth. He looked up, his facial expression going from annoyed to stoic, eyebrows raised slightly, one blink causing his eyes to go from glassy to dark. You expected for the exchange between the two men to come to blows. Adonis was sweet with a hidden temper, while Shawn was a hot head all around. To your surprise, Adonis simply nodded his head and looked back at you. His expression was unreadable, you couldn't tell if he was upset or just didn't care anymore. It was obvious that you had chosen a new man over him, you accepted Shawn and everything he came with, something you couldn't do with Adonis.

"Who's this?" Shawn asked bluntly, hands stuffed into his black hoodie.

You got up, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips as you grabbed his arm, shaking your head. 

"Just a friend."

Heart dropping to your feet, you felt as if your insides were being ripped out as you snapped your neck towards Adonis. It's funny how in your head that’s how you tried to describe him, yet hearing those words from his actual mouth made you want to scream. He didn't sound upset, bothered, or angry. You couldn't read his expression or the tone of his voice, all you could do was stare at him with mixed emotions. 

"You got a good girl though, keep her close. Hope y'all have a good life."

He rose from his seat, dropping a twenty dollar bill on the table and made his way to the door without a goodbye. Shawn began to speak, asking more questions that went in one ear and out the other, but you were still in shock. You let out a laugh, not because anything was funny, but because you were coming to the realization that whatever relationship that you had with Adonis up until this point was officially done. He had wished you his farewell and that was that, and as much as it saddened and pissed you off, you couldn't blame him. His figure vanished out into the night, leaving you in his rear view mirror and hiding his tears from you. 

taglist: @lovelynervouschaos @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @iamrheaspeaks @bakarisangel @janelledarling @softnani @destinio1 @madamslayyy @marvelpotterlove @theunsweetenedtruth @james-heaven-barnes @erikaintdead @hearteyes-for-killmonger @killmongerthirst @ovoxosavage 

(i honestly just tagged people that commented on my past stories since i didn’t really know who to tag lmao)

[lioninsunheart]

Boxed in: the fragility of men~~

In her 2006 book Insecure at Last, Eve Ensler described meeting a soldier in Kosovo in the late 1990s who seemed both physically and mentally paralysed. His name was Agrim. “He looked at me, threw his arms around my neck, and started weeping,” she wrote. “No, it was more like wailing. I have never heard a sound like that. He would not let go. Then his weeping wailing began to build and release. It could not be controlled or stopped. It resounded through the neighbourhood. People from the village began to gather around. I held on to Agrim, but, honestly, I wanted him to stop. All these years I had told myself I wanted men to be vulnerable, to have their feelings, to cry. All of a sudden it felt like a lie. I did not want this man to be so destroyed, so out of control. I wanted him to have answers and be tough and know the way and make everything work out.” Ensler understood how part of her was terrified of men being lost, how she needed them to be tough and assured. She also understood how many years she’d been carrying men’s “invisible pain” in order not to see their weakness or shame. Holding Agrim in her arms, “this weeping liquid man” – as she described him – was her undoing, pulling her “out to sea in the wild waves of his crying”. “It was as if I were holding the secret story of men in my lap,” she wrote. “Centuries of male sorrow and loss, centuries of unexpressed worry and doubt, centuries of pain. I suddenly understood violence and war. I understood retaliation and revenge. I understood how deep the agony is and how its suppression has made men into other things. I understood that these tears falling down Agrim’s face would have become bullets in any other case, hardened drops of grief and rage directed toward a needed enemy. I saw how in fighting to live up to the tyranny of masculinity, men become driven to do anything to prove they are neither tender, nor weak, nor insecure. They are forced to cage and kill the feminine within their own beings and consequently the world.” This passage speaks to what it is in men that causes them to inflict such monumental hurt on women, other men, children and themselves. They are forced to cage and kill the feminine within their own beings and consequently the world. Carl Jung, the Swiss psychoanalyst renowned for his theory of the collective unconscious, called this feminine within a man the anima – the “unconscious woman” that contains all the feminine personality qualities inside a man that can either be expressed, if allowed, or repressed and removed. These are the qualities of tenderness, compassion, vulnerability, friendship, relatedness, creativity, imagination and intuition. Conversely, he called the masculine within a woman the animus – the “unconscious man” that holds the archetypal masculine traits of courage, assertiveness, analytical thought, decisiveness and a drive for achievement. (The Chinese describe this polarity as yin and yang, the complementary female and male principles operating in nature.) In Jung’s world view, all of us carry these archetypal qualities inside us – feminine and masculine – but from childhood we create gender identities and roles, consciously or unconsciously, to conform with the often-crippling sexual stereotypes society imposes. Girls wear pink, and isn’t that a pretty dress? Boys wear blue and play with Lego and trucks, and aren’t you strong? Women are nurturers. Men are providers. Women are sensitive. Men are tough. We all know the drill; and we all know that identity politics today is, in part, a furious backlash to these oversimplified and limiting concepts. For men, these stereotypes are particularly destructive. “[We were taught] that men are in charge, which means women are not; that men lead, and you [women] should just follow and just do what we say. That men are superior and women are inferior; that men are strong, that women are weak. That women are of less value, property of men, and objects, particularly sexual objects.”said Tony Porter. This “man box” contained all the ingredients for how men came to define their masculinity. Some of those ingredients, Porter said, were “absolutely wonderful”, others were so “twisted” that it required deconstructing and redefining the very concept of manhood. Boys are raised to bury their emotions. This fear of expressing emotion, of being seen as weak or feminine, has kept boys and men paralysed – just as Eve Ensler noted with her Balkan soldier, Agrim. They are held hostage inside the “man box”, from which there is often no escape. Perhaps as men we take our cues from our fathers. From the way they expressed – or failed to express – their emotions, weaknesses, vulnerabilities. Or the way they showed us – or failed to show us – their devotion “Role modelling is the way the human brain learns almost all complex behaviours, attitudes and skills, and so boys need to know good men close up. All of us are a bundle of the good people, male and female, we have known. But we have let that enrichment disappear on the male side, and many boys today have never seen what a good man looks like close up.” We know all manner of men – good men, dangerous men, corporate men, artistic men, alpha and beta men, terrifying and tender men, physical and bookish men, gregarious men, silent men, old-world men, New Age men, rescuers, narcissists, hopeless romantics, cynics … However, one of the common denominators, certainly throughout the Western world, is the correlation between the time a father spends with his children and a child’s sense of self-worth. “A father’s absence from his daughter’s life has been found in research to increase her chances of risky sexual behaviour, experiencing teen pregnancy, doing poorly in school. For sons, it prevents them from seeing the fullness of what it means to be a man. There is no access to the interior world of male feeling,” he says. “There’s been a vast improvement in this over the past 20 years because of how much time fathers are now devoting to their children. But generations of men have carried the legacy of this gaping hole.” “We’ve militarised men and commodified women for thousands of years,” Biddulph tells me. “War became one of the definers of masculinity and we’re still raising boys as soldiers of empire – which is why they don’t cry. Maybe the struggle between the sexes will never be put to rest. Maybe, in the unfathomable reaches of the male psyche, men have always been frightened of women – or at least frightened of the feminine qualities within themselves: those qualities that point inwards, to that place where our deepest feelings are lodged, but which centuries of masculine culture have repressed or removed. Perhaps, this is the place where violence against women begins: in the shutting-down of this inner world where relationships and connection truly reside, because the models we’ve been given for manhood fail to recognise a fundamental truth, which is that nothing meaningful in life ever happens without the ability to be vulnerable. ~Excerpts from Women, Men and the Whole Damn Thing by David Leser