#it does feel too intimate and I hate the thought of people judging how ‘firm’ my grip is

[theshadowrealmitself]

Thinking about Amanda holding tiny Spock and people trying to shake her hand because she’s human and tiny Spock, in that blunt way that children are like, just goes “No. No touch. Remove.” while Amanda tries so hard to not burst out laughing

[chainhead]

we're gonna live forever

ethan is finding it harder to cope. leon tries his best to help.

ethan/leon. nsft. a lot of whump and hurt/comfort in this one. an "if leon was there to haul ethan out of the village while chris took rose and they all escaped together" sort of deal. leon got assigned to monitor the winters for a few months, and ethan's struggling with himself.

Up until two hours ago, Ethan hadn't bathed for close to a week. He's tired, and sore, and his body aches with the pain of a thousand bruises that will never heal, and right now, he should be taking a nap. A dirt nap. He should be dead.

But instead, he's leaning over the blankets that are pooled in his lap, and he's kissing Leon fucking Kennedy, square on the lips.

He shouldn't be. Dead people don't kiss the living. Yet he's here… doing just that.

And Leon's been real timid about all this, but when he finally got to press his lips to Ethan's, the blonde figures he should've known that for secret undercover super spy agents like Leon Kennedy, shy isn't a word in their lexicon. For all his hesitancy, a little lip action quickly spiraled into something else entirely, and… and Ethan doesn't hate it.

He gasps when something warm and wet swipes past his lip and he trembles when it slides between his teeth; prodding at his gums and the roof of his mouth and Jesus, is he really getting this worked up over a kiss? Electricity is buzzing in his veins and he can't even remember what Leon wanted to ask, only the part where the older man sat on his bed with a bowl of (forgotten, now) soup and asked if he was okay.

The answer was no. It's not– it's never been okay. Fucking nothing is okay.

And Ethan thought maybe the nightmares would end—the screaming, tearing, ripping at his blankets in a frenzy to get up and desperately check on his daughter—but they haven't. They won't.

And thus, whether by his own design or perhaps pulled on by the strings of fate, Leon came into his room to shake him awake and offer a compassionate ear, just like he always did. And for once, in the three months Ethan’s been occupying Leon's guest bedroom and making good use of his Hulu subscription, he let himself open up.

Maybe it wasn't a smart idea. The last thing Ethan needs right now is more confusion and uncertainty, but the way Leon introduces him to this, it doesn't feel transparent.

The hands on his jaw are real. The taste of peppermint toothpaste is real. The slow, steady breaths that Leon takes in between kisses helps Ethan steady his own, and if Leon wasn't confident in his ability, then surely he wouldn't engage like this with someone he's assigned to monitor and protect, right?

Warm palms slip down Ethan's neck. They trail past his collarbone until they're below his ribcage, and they settle on his hips, firm and steady and real. Ethan startles at the touch, but Leon is quick to hush him, pulling away to whisper soft utterances of it's okay, you're okay, you're safe. 

It helps… in it's own strange, unprecedented way.

The blonde's chest heaves as he quietly fights to regain his composure, and Leon takes the brief moment of respite to let go of one hip so he can reach for Ethan's wrist and bring it closer to his face.

It takes Ethan a second to register which hand Leon grabbed. The small stab of discomfort tells him it's his bum hand before he can actually see it, and a part of Ethan reels in alarm, his eyes widening like saucers.

"Wait," he pants," Leon, that's—"

"I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" The agent asks gently, still cradling Ethan's hand close.

Ethan pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing. "I..."

"And that no matter what happened, I'd never judge you. I wouldn't think of you any differently. I wouldn't do anything intentionally to hurt you…" Leon glances up, blue eyes uncharacteristically soft. "This is just another part of you I'll accept without question. I don't care how it looks, or how you got it. It's a reminder of your strength. It makes you, you." When Ethan doesn't protest, Leon continues, "So let me."

The blonde inhales quietly.

"Please?" Leon pushes.

"... Okay."

What is most unexpected is how Leon smiles in triumph, but not in an overbearing, boyish kind of way. It's just a little quirk of the lips that indicates his approval, right before he presses them to the valley of Ethan's missing fingers in a fleeting, butterfly kiss.

The blonde's skin erupts in a raze of gooseflesh. He flusters, unsure of what to say, but Leon's quick to smooth things over.

"Every part of you is animated, Winters. You're human." Another kiss, this time above the knuckles. "You're breathing, eating, feeling."

Ethan swallows the lump that's quickly reforming in his throat. "I–It's like a dream. Everything tells me this isn't real."

"What can I do to help?" Leon mumbles against the back of his hand.

Ethan lets out a shaky breath. "I…" He licks his lips, tasting the trace of mint that still lingers.

Leon watches him patiently. Ethan feels his heartbeat thundering in his chest when he finally gathers the courage to ask, in an unsteady voice, "Can you make me feel alive again?"

*

The first finger is real. So is the second.

Ethan squirms on the sheets as Leon slowly works him open, making sure to use extra lubricant so the process is as painless as possible. Each plunge is precise (who could expect less from a government-trained Jedi?) and occasionally Leon brushes against something absolutely fucking wonderful, pulling embarrassing noises from the blonde's throat and forcing his cock to throb heavily against his stomach.

Dead people can't feel pleasure. Dead people can't moan, or beg for another finger. Not like Ethan, who's doing it so tentatively that he fears Leon can't hear him.

But he does. And he unfurls a third digit the first two, stretching Ethan open wider, forcing him to groan brokenly through his teeth.

"A little tight," Leon observes. When Ethan moves to cover his face with his arm, Leon uses his free hand to push it away. "You okay?"

"Th–the things you say…" Ethan mutters, keeping his gaze trained on the nightstand. From the corner of his eye, he can see Leon grin.

"I'm sorry. Should I stop?"

Ethan doesn't say anything.

The burn and stretch ground him, keeping him focused on the present. Leon never gives him a moment to get lost in his head, and that's something he appreciates immensely. Words of encouragement fill the empty space as well as the lewd squelch of Leon's fingers, until all too soon, they're being slid out without warning.

Ethan clenches around nothing. "Leon?"

"Shh." Leon leans over him, sitting himself between Ethan's thighs. His body is hot where it presses against him, and all the air gushes out of Ethan's lungs. "Nice and easy. If it hurts, you tell me. Okay?"

Ethan nods feverishly. He bites down on his tongue when he feels Leon line himself up, and draws taut like a bowstring when the first breach spread him wide, wider than he'd ever been before.

He wasn't going to tell Leon anything hurt to begin with, but the hiss he lets out is unintentional. It still makes the older man freeze, and Ethan takes note of the callused thumb rubbing soothing circles against his cheekbone.

"I'm fine," Ethan groans, sounding very much the opposite. "Just keep going."

Leon doesn't protest. He kisses Ethan's shoulder and carefully eases the rest of his length in, exhaling quietly once his groin presses flush to the skin of Ethan's ass. Once he's there he keeps still, patiently waiting for Ethan to adjust.

The feeling is less pain, more ache. There is an undercurrent of something similar to how a rug burn might feel, and although somewhat unpleasant, it makes Ethan vividly aware of the fact that, if he were dead, he wouldn't be able to feel anything at all. He wouldn't need to grit his teeth, or fist the sheets, or wait until his muscles stopped fluttering wildly around something foreign inside of him. This isn't how it feels to die. 

He's warm. Not as warm as Leon, nor the cock buried snug in his walls, but still warm enough to not need long sleeves.

Eventually, the pain begins to ebb and fade. Leon murmurs softly against his shoulder, asking if he's okay to move, and Ethan nods again.

They set a slow pace. Leon is meticulous in how much force he puts behind each thrust, ever aware of Ethan's comfort. He moves his face up until their lips catch and brush against the other's, not quite a kiss, yet still intimate and sweet. Leon uses one hand to support his weight while he maps out Ethan's body with the other; and Ethan shivers, taking note of the way fire erupts in the wake of Leon's fingertips.

About two minutes in, things begin blurring together. Ethan rocks back to match Leon's rhythm, and that's all it takes for Leon to loosen the tension in the wires—his hips undulating with enough strength behind them to elicit small, audible slaps of skin in skin on skin.

Ethan snakes a hand down to touch himself, only to get his knuckles smacked before he can get a single stroke in. Leon replaces the hand with his own, and the way he jerks him is so much faster than he'd initially been wanting.

The blonde writhes, his clammy skin clinging to the sheer bed sheets. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and he can feel it, he can feel the impending orgasm that surging up from his guts and teetering just on the cusp—

Above him Leon moans quietly, burying his nose in Ethan's neck. His thrusts are turning into quick, hard snaps, and his hold on Ethan's cock shifts; the pad of his thumb swiping firm over the leaking tip. One, two, three more times. The fourth has Ethan shaking, his thighs trembling around Leon's frame. And the fifth…

Paired with one last, deep thrust, Ethan comes with a wordless shout, his back arching up high off of the mattress. Sticky ropes of pearlescent liquid coat his stomach, his chest, and the tops of Leon's knuckles, and Ethan trembles through it all, feeling as though he's having an out of body fucking experience.

And when he finally comes around, it's to the sound of Leon whispering his name in his ear, soiled fingers digging hard into his hip. Wet warmth fills him, and it's only in the few seconds afterwards that Ethan realizes he never told Leon he could finish inside.

A small part of him hoped he would, so he doesn't comment on it.

"Jesus," Leon sighs after a moment, pushing himself up a little higher on his elbow. Ethan's impressed that, despite all of that, Leon doesn't just collapse on top of him… or even come close to it.

Instead, he's distracting Ethan with a slow, post-coital kiss while he carefully unsheathes himself, and then he's rolling over, taking all of his body heat with him.

Ethan blinks sluggishly, turning on his side to face him.

Silence blankets over them comfortably. Ethan's thoughts are running wild but his chest is heaving for breath, his fingertips are sizzling with leftover energy and he feels so free. The same way he felt before he died—before he even knew the Bakers' existed, or the mutant mind-controlling mold that took him asunder.

Another tear falls. Ethan moves his hand up to wipe it, but Leon's already there, catching it with his thumb. Ethan sniffs, meeting his gaze.

"What's going to happen to us?" He asks thickly.

Leon tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

"Us… you and I. Our… our relationship." Ethan hiccups on his words. "Our friendship."

A brief pause. And then, softly: "I thought I was helping you feel alive?"

The inflection of Leon's tone makes Ethan pause in confusion, his brows pinched. He desperately searches Leon's face but doesn't find the context he's looking for, so he says, "Y–you were."

"And did I?"

Ethan stills. He suddenly becomes more aware of himself, of the beat of his heart and the air in his lungs. The amalgamation of excitement and fear and longing that coincide in his stomach.

The realness of it. The realness of everything.

Of this. 

Himself. 

Leon.

Ethan shudders out a shaky breath. "I don't know," he whispers honestly. "I don't know."

The bed shifts and creaks beneath Leon's weight, and Ethan isn't aware of the arms wrapped around him or the warm chest pressed against his nose until it's too late; and for once, he doesn't feel like shying away from the touch. It feels grounding. Like a rock to help weather the storm… a solid constant Ethan can trust.

Slowly, Ethan embraces Leon back.

"I want you to know. I want to be there when you do know," Leon tells him.

He sobs, and a large, gentle hand comes up to comb through his hair.

"I'll do whatever it takes, Winters. Even if it takes forever, I'll show you how real you are to me."

[mintymiknow]

Trust Fall - ch. 3 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Thus starts your “journey” with the organization; you accompany Minho on a certain task to search for anything to aid the case. But nothing is easy when you aren’t ready to face certain things again...and when you work with people you don’t really trust. 

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.7k

Warnings for this chapter: Brief mention of experimentation but nothing is too graphic (not sure if there’s anything more, so let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: As you read this, please keep in mind that I am not an expert in chemistry, science or medicine, so do not take what it written literally. I don’t even know if they make sense, but this is all for the sake of fiction (the same goes for places mentioned)! Again, I’m pretty sure the chemical/scientific/medical things that go on are inaccurate and might not even be possible/real, but this is just fiction! As usual, drop an ask if you have any questions or comments, enjoy!

After Minho had left you with the other boys in the lab, you somehow “caught up” with Jisung and Seungmin...though they did most of the talking. Afterwards, as promised, you accompanied them to the cafeteria to have a late lunch where you also got to meet Hyunjin more properly. The long-haired agent was very friendly and sweet underneath the confident and almost flirty exterior, but that didn’t change anything.

You hated it here.

After lunch, a few female agents took you aside to inform you that they have provided some clothes for you to wear until Minho accompanies you to your house to fetch more things. And as promised, the male agent did return to check on you after his schedule with Chan and Changbin. He drove you back to your house, allowing you to get whatever things you needed.

The car ride was quiet, him waiting for you in your house was quiet - it was almost as if you believed this man refused to speak at all. Maybe it was a concept. Whatever, you’d tell yourself. What did it matter to you?

You only got a few papers and some of your favorite clothes - and a few intimates - that all fit in one backpack. Once you had slung it over your shoulder, you turned to Minho who only gave you a curt nod, gesturing for you to follow him to the car for another quiet, tension-filled ride back to HQ.

Thankfully, Felix’s words were true as you were able to gain access to your room already. Minho didn’t accompany you to your room, having parted ways as soon as you both got outside of the car. From your peripheral vision, you could see him walking to the main building, probably to meet up with other agents.

So here you were, bathed and dressed in pajamas, sprawled out on the bed. For now, sleep was all you could do.

You hear a faint knock on your door, prompting you to stir awake. You peel your eyes open, sighing as you refuse to leave the soft and heavenly bed. You lift your head from the pillow, instantly missing the comfort it gives you - the only comfort in this place after all. When you don’t respond or make any move to get up, the knock becomes slightly louder.

“Dr. Song, if you don’t open this door now, I’ll do it myself.”

You knew whose voice that belonged to, so naturally, you groan to yourself. So early in the morning, and you want to throw a pillow at the door. Or maybe a shoe or two. Before you can even make a response, the door indeed swings open, revealing an unamused Minho, hands shoved in his jean pockets. Gone is his crisp white shirt and slacks, now replaced by black jeans and a black shirt. If you weren’t so caught up in your anger and dislike for the organization, you would have thought that he looked attractive. Just a bit. Yes, you’d definitely want to throw a shoe right about now.

Now sitting up, you hug the sheets closer as if it were a security blanket. You shoot a glare towards the male, grumbling, “And how on earth did you open the door without me unlocking it? Invasion of privacy...ever heard of that?”

Minho sighs, rolling his eyes, “Relax, Dr. Song. You and I are the only ones who can open your door. Besides, I have access because I’m your ‘partner’, in Mr. Jung’s words. Rest assured that I’ll always knock first.”

“How reassuring.” you say, sarcasm dripping in your voice.

When Minho walks closer, you tug the sheets closer like a shield, the soft fabric wrinkling in your tight grip. Minho knows it’s an act of protection - a natural instinct - so he lets his expression soften just slightly, sighing as he leans against the wall. “Did you sleep well?” he asks.

The question catches you by surprise, your mind failing to come up with a decent reply. You merely stare at the male for a few seconds, trying to decipher the unamused yet warm glint in his eyes. With a sigh, your grip on the sheets loosens as you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “More or less.” you finally say, tense shoulders slumping slightly.

Minho nods once, pushing himself off the wall as he crosses his arms. “Good. You need to get dressed right now, though.”

“Is there something for me to work on in the lab?” you ask.

The agent shakes his head, “No, but you’re about to. Mr. Jung would like you to accompany us on a site.”

“I’m not a field agent.” you narrow your eyes, trying to reason out.

“It’s not a field mission, Dr. Song.” Minho explains calmly, “The other agents already took care of whatever targets were there since last night. You and I are going there to get evidence. Mr. Jung thinks you should come just in case you’d deem anything useful for your tests. Think of it as the forensics part in crime scene investigations.”

The agent is quick to see the flicker of fear and worry in your eyes; it was understandable. He knew that you weren’t exactly trained for this, and the idea of entering a “crime scene” when you’ve worked in labs or a hospital all your life was a bit nerve-wracking. Not to mention that you apparently had unresolved issues from before.

Who was he to judge?

He was the same when he first joined SKZ.

Apprehensive over everything, and though skilled, he worried he’d slip up and cost the lives of those around him. Missions always made him nervous at first, but he eventually got used to it, accomplishing them as if they were your mundane, everyday tasks.

Even if it cost him people.

Even if it cost him someone.

He sees himself in you perhaps, but he isn’t going to acknowledge that just yet.

Minho clears his throat, voice softer than he usually speaks with, yet still firm enough to display his authority, “You don’t have to worry about being in danger, Dr. Song. I’ll be there.”

You don’t know why a sense of relief washes over you, but it does, and you find yourself nodding subtly. Well, technically you’d be relieved if any other agent said the same thing; as long as you weren’t going to the scene alone, right?

You let out a deep breath, “I’ll get dressed.”

“Ok. Wear something comfortable.” Minho says, making his way to the door, “I’ll be outside.”

With that, the agent leaves your room and gently shuts the door. You pull the sheets off and hesitantly stand up, walking over to the closet to grab a pair of jeans and a sweater. You take a quick shower and get dressed, feeling pressured over the fact that Minho was waiting outside.

Then it dawned on you.

This is it. This is really it.

You were going to start working with SKZ.

Again.

You involuntarily shudder, shivers erupting through your body as goosebumps litter your skin. There was no turning back now, and you could only pray that you’d make it out alive and sane.

After you get dressed and ready yourself - which included a mental pep talk session - you meet Minho outside your room. The agent nods in acknowledgement once you make your presence known, “Good to go?”

“You know the answer to that, Agent Lee.”

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle, a small smirk playing at his lips. You decide to ignore the image of that, shoving it to the deep crevices of your mind. You follow him to the elevators in silence, not exactly sure of what to say or how to talk to the stoic agent. As if you wanted to converse with him anyway. 

But perhaps it was in your nature - as a doctor and scientist - to be curious and wandering about.

So your eyes glance over to the side ever-so-subtly, and you manage to catch a glimpse of the male agent. Minho leans against the elevator’s clean walls, arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes are watching the numbers tick by, his gaze unmoving and focused as if the red-lit numbers were the most interesting thing he’d seen.

But then he snaps his attention to you, sharp eyes piercing your own gaze as he raises a brow. “Yes, Dr. Song?”

You clear your throat - in a not very smooth manner - and rip your gaze away, opting to stare at the elevator doors, praying that they opened soon. “Nothing.” you blurt out, crossing your own arms a tad bit too defensively.

And as if your embarrassment wasn’t enough, your stomach makes a sound akin to a rumble. Your cheeks flush a very bright shade of pink, and you have to bite your lip to remain calm. Minho sighs in what you’d think was exasperation, but the small quirk of his lip says otherwise. “You should probably get something to eat on the way.” he says.

“I’m fine.” you mutter, pleading for the elevator to finally reach the ground floor so you could spare yourself the shame and embarrassment.

“I don’t want you collapsing on the scene, Dr. Song.” Minho starts, gesturing for you to step out as the doors finally open, “I said I’d keep you safe, but if you’re weak and hungry…”

“Agent Lee, I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.” you say more firmly this time, waiting for the male to lead you to wherever you needed to be.

“If you say so.”

“I said so.”

“Ok.”

With that, the agent gestures for you to follow him. You end up walking towards the main building where you get inside another elevator. There, Jeongin and Chan enter as well. The dimpled male looks at you, smiling, “Morning. On a mission, Dr. Song?”

“Ah, yes.” you look up to Minho who only nods, “I guess.”

Minho looks at his friends and asks, “Is Jung sending you two somewhere too?”

“Yeah. We’re going to where Changbin went last night. I think…” Jeongin trails off when he remembers you’re still there, “...classified.”

Chan smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I think it’s just a clean-up task. It got pretty messy last night.”

“I see. Good luck.” Minho playfully salutes.

The two agents laugh before telling you both to stay safe as well. They then get out at Basement 1, leaving you and Minho in the elevator once more. “Are things...going to get messy where we’re going?” you suddenly ask, not expecting Minho to answer.

The male sighs, “It won’t, Dr. Song.”

You don’t sound so convinced, but you drop the topic when the elevator door opens to Basement 2. There, Minho leads you to the car he always uses. Once you’re both settled in, the agent drives off, dead silent as usual.

Neither of you make any effort to break the silence despite the nagging feeling that maybe someone should do so.

Without any clue as to how far this drive would take or how long Minho was going to act like a statue - in fairness, so were you - you decide to just look around his car. You take note of the iced americano in the cupholder near the steering wheel, his phone and whatever gadget near the center console, the other agent-ish stuff in the backseat...things you didn’t really care about.

But for some reason, you blurt out yet another ridiculous question, “Where are your guns...or whatever?”

At the sudden break of silence, - and sudden question - Minho spares a quick glance at you before clearing his throat and looking back at the road, “It’s with me. Why do you ask?”

“I…” you try to think why indeed, but you can’t seem to answer his question, “I don’t know. Maybe to be sure we’ll be safe…”

“I can defend both you and me without a gun, Dr. Song. Stop being so paranoid.” Minho says flatly. You miss the hint of affirmation in his voice.

“Whatever.”

After about an hour or so, Minho parks his car in some secluded, shaded area. “We’re here.” is all he says before getting out of the car, so you follow suit.

A cloud of eeriness blankets the entire area, a chill like no other creeping under your skin and settling in your bones like an unwanted leech. You unconsciously shiver despite the absence of any cold weather, and your feet remain planted in place as if someone zapped you with a freezing spell. Minho has to gently grab your wrist and tug you along for you to actually move from your spot.

You hesitate, pulling against the agent to get him to stop. “Agent Lee, wait.” you gulp, “I don’t think I can...just wait…”

Minho remains calm and patient as he turns around, tugging your wrist to pull you close enough to whisper with a low voice, “I understand that this is difficult for you, so I won’t force you to come with me. Would you rather wait in the car while we investigate?”

You entertain the idea for a while, but your mind drifts off into a what-if situation. What if someone sneaks up to the car? What if someone tries to attack you while you’re alone? What if you die in the car?

You purse your lips, nodding once before steeling yourself, “I’ll come.”

Minho doesn’t say anything in response, but he instead puts a tighter grip on your wrist as he leads you to the scene of investigation. You see the gesture as his way of making sure you don’t slow him down or run off somewhere, but to Minho, it was his way of assuring you.

I’m here, I’ll keep you safe, you’ll be ok.

Of course, that isn’t something he’d admit or say out loud.

And it isn’t something you were expecting anyway.

Minho leads you to a small abandoned house, rundown and ruined by time. It was still occupiable, but the cracks on the walls, vines and moss growing here and there, and the musty stench was enough to tell you how ruined it was. A few men wearing black, brown or gray clothing stood outside, going over their small notepads. When one sees Minho approaching, he bows and nods his head toward the small house, “Agent Lee, no threats found. I think the other team dealt with everyone here when they infiltrated last night. You can go around and check for things now.”

“Thank you. Dr. Song, if you will.” Minho bows to the other agents before stepping inside the house.

The agents bow at you before going back to their notes, and you take small steps inside the house. A rather pungent smell fills the air, but you try not to pay too much attention to it as you take one quick look around the house. There were only two divisions - the “foyer” where you and Minho were, and another room with tiled walls and floors. The room where you were currently standing was practically empty, save for the potted plant in the corner.

You take a bold step forward, and before you know it, you’re walking towards the plant. With your gloves on, you begin to examine the plant; touching the leaves, pinching the stem, rubbing it’s surface - everything to possibly get what you can. You quickly pull a leaf out and put it in the plastic bag the agents provided for evidence. Next, you sift through the soil, sniffing it more closely when your nose catches a whiff of it’s not-very-earthy scent. You crumble it in your hands, taking note of the unusual texture as well. The soil goes into a small plastic pouch too.

You then stand up and show Minho the two plastic pouches, “I’ll need these analyzed in the lab.”

The agent nods, taking the pouches from you and assigning them to the other agents, instructing them to put it with the things for the lab department. “I think you’re going to want to see the other room.” he says, nodding his head towards the tiled room.

You nod, making your way to the said room. It was much darker, a bit damp and definitely smelled of something rotten; what it was, you didn’t want to find out. When the other agents give you enough light, you start to rummage and look around the room. Minho does the same, sharp eyes making sure to not miss a single spot. You can hear him instructing the other agents from time to time, accompanied by the rustling of some plastics and whatnot.

Eyes too focused on a rather disturbing Renaissance painting of a battle, you don’t hear Minho calling your name. “Dr. Song.” he repeats once more, hand on your shoulder.

You jolt in surprise before turning to face the agent. Once he has your attention, Minho gestures to a desk with its drawers opened. You peer inside, eyes wide as you notice the small bottles with various colored liquid inside. You take each one and hand them over to Minho who puts them in a secured briefcase-like container. After you gather each one, you look at the agent, “What’s the context of this place? Like why were agents sent here? What did they find out?”

Minho looks at the doorway, licking his lips as he begins to explain, “This is one of the sites one of our scouts discovered. Long story short, they got intel that the culprit organization was using this for, well...testing.”

No wonder it smelled rotten inside.

You quiver again, closing your eyes as you continue with a shaky voice, “What’s the organization’s name? Jung never said anything.”

“Cle.”

“I see.”

Minho hums, “Anyway, last night, a team was sent here to infiltrate, but it was reported that when they got here, there were about four to five guards to keep watch, but no scientists or anyone else was found. After taking care of the guards, the team went in to investigate but found nothing.”

“Nothing?” you inquire.

“Well, in their eyes, it might have been nothing.” Minho looks at you with a genuine gaze, “You’re the scientist and doctor, Dr. Song. Your eyes and knowledge would pick up on things a field agent wouldn’t, which is why Jung sent you this morning.”

You can only nod, swallowing a dry lump in your throat, “Ok...well, I’m done. I think we can go back to HQ now, Agent Lee.”

“Very well.”

The drive back is quiet as usual, and you find yourself lost in your thoughts once more. You’re only interrupted when Minho makes a quick stop in some cafe, buying a cup of coffee for himself...and for you; it actually catches you by surprise, and you look at him suspiciously for a good five seconds before he rolls his eyes and tells you to “just drink it or dump it...Dr. Song”.

Once you’re back in the headquarters, you and Minho make a beeline for the lab department where Seungmin, Jisung and a few other scientists are already waiting in one of the test rooms. Jisung gives you a lab coat before leaning on one of the lab tables, “So, what do we need to test?”

You spread out all the things you found, pointing at each one, “The soil is definitely contaminated. It smells like phosphorus, but I need to be sure. We can use the leaf for double-checking to see if the plant absorbed any substances. And then these vials...I don’t know. Some look like familiar mixtures, but we can never be too sure.”

“Got it.” Jisung nods before grabbing the pouches with the soil and leaf.

Seungmin takes a few vials while you take the one with purple liquid inside - purplish with a tinge of red-pink making a smoke dispersion effect. The other scientists take whatever’s left, and soon, everyone is doing their own thing.

You focus on your tasks, running tests and using the lab equipment to make observations. From the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin dropping a few of the liquids onto a Petri dish before analyzing it through a microscope. You also notice Minho observing Jisung who was running tests on the soil, the two talking to each other in between.

You do the same as Seungmin, placing a few drops onto a Petri dish before putting all your attention on analyzing it through the microscope. You adjust and tweak the focus, straining your eyes as much as you can to make observations. When you notice a little unusual activity going on in the reactions, you push your chair back and roll it over to the other table, grabbing a syringe and filling it with a very small amount of the substance. You fill a beaker with water before dropping the syringe’s contents little by little. The water begins to fizzle before making a tiny explosion. It doesn’t faze any of you, and you even bring yourself closer to look at the new mixture.

“Reactive with water...some of these substances are making use of alkali metals.” you point out, looking at the beaker.

Seungmin nods, “I found the same, but it doesn’t make sense. Maybe it is dangerous, but those aren’t enough to be some super deadly serum. Surely they’d know that.”

You nod, turning your head to Jisung who was now in a safety suit, walking over to one of the more protected experiment rooms in the lab. “So, one of the prime contaminants I’m picking up from the soil is sulfur…” Jisung starts, holding up a chunk of material that can be used for testing, “...so it’s safe to say that they attempted to make their serum using sulfuric acid. Nasty stuff.”

The male then holds a test tube filled with a clear liquid tinged with a hue of green, “But this isn’t just purely sulfuric acid. It’s somehow...way stronger and more concentrated than it should be.”

Jisung then carefully pours the liquid onto the test material, taking a few steps back afterwards. Everyone in the room then watches the test, eyes glued to the chunk that was slowly but surely melting away. You barely register Jisung furrowing his eyebrows in disgust and Seungmin turning around to write something on a notepad.

You barely register the rapid beating of your heart as your mind blanks and fills with things you didn’t really need at the moment.

Your eyes are locked on the test material, its pale brownish color turning into a putrid greenish-black as the liquid acid eats at it. Bubbles form on its surface, and you can hear the hissing sounds it makes even from your place in the room. The material then morphs and distorts itself, no longer looking like a cube but some hideous pile of monstrosity.

It reminds you of all the skin you’ve seen burned and melted away.

Of all the faces of agony you had to see and screams of desperation you had to hear.

The lives taken when you should have saved them.

And in an instant, you stand abruptly, knocking the chair down and startling Seungmin beside you. Jisung looks at you quizzically, but you end up ignoring him as your feet take you to the doors. Minho grabs your arm as gently as he can, opening his mouth to ask, “What’s - ”

But before he can finish his question, you yank your arm away and walk out of the lab room. Your shoes click against the white floor, matching the loud thumping of your heartbeat. Your hands are shaking as your head spins, nausea taking over your body. After letting your feet drag you to wherever, you end up in one of the vacant areas of the lab, slumping against the wall until you’re seated on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

Your breathing becomes heavier, a disturbing buzzing noise filling your mind. You shake your head as if doing so will get rid of everything - will stop everything - despite you knowing otherwise. “Just stop…” you whisper to no one but yourself, on the verge of screaming out.

Just then, you feel a hand on your knee, gently tapping as if to get your attention. You slowly look up, swallowing the lump in your throat when Chan smiles at you. “Hey, Dr. Song.” he smiles, “I saw you run out of the room. Is everything alright?”

You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself as you sit straighter, “Sorry...I just...”

“Would you like to step out first? I’ll tell Minho.” the agent tilts his head to the side.

“No, I think I’ll be ok.” you shake your head, looking at the floor, “Thank you though, Agent Bang.”

“You can just call me Chan if you’d like.” he chuckles, offering his hand, “Might make you feel more at ease that way.”

You pretend to not hear what he says, instead, reluctantly taking his hand as he pulls you to stand up. The dimpled male flashes you one more smile before turning his head to the side, aware of another presence approaching. “Hey Min.” he playfully salutes.

Minho smiles at his friend, nodding in acknowledgement. At that, Chan pats his shoulder and says something like “I’ll report to Jung now, see ya” before bowing towards you and making his leave. When Minho’s gaze falls on you, there’s a stern expression clouding his features, but a certain and ironically warm glint in his dark eyes. “Dr. Song, is everything alright?”

You look away, now embarrassed that the agent is witnessing a moment of weakness; your teary eyes, shaking hands and flushed cheeks say it all. “It’s nothing.” you mutter, tugging on your lab coat.

Minho doesn’t look convinced, and he makes it a point to express it by lifting an eyebrow. However, he lets it go in an instant, pulling something out of his pocket. He dangles a small bottle of water in his hand, looking at you in a deadpan manner, “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

You wanted to accept it. You wanted to smile and thank the male for his consideration.

But you don’t.

Why? You aren’t sure.

You just know that you hated everything happening now. You know that being here was a mistake. You know that no one here is actually a friend. You know that everyone just slaps a mask on and acts out of kindness out of obligation - to just make sure you work.

You know that no one here acts kindly out of genuine care. You know that by heart.

No one is genuine. To each his own.

Then why accept Chan’s help? Who knows. Maybe it was because Chan was more expressive...transparent. Minho was a closed book surrounded by a mysterious cloud. You didn’t know what he felt or thought. He was too elusive, and you didn’t like that.

You hated being in the dark.

You stare at the bottle in Minho’s hand before gently pushing it away. “I don’t need it, thanks.” you say with a sigh.

You push past the agent to return to the lab room, calling over your shoulder in a flat tone, “I’ll get those test results ready ASAP with Jisung and Seungmin.”

Minho watches you trudge back to the lab room, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to contain his annoyance. With a heavy sigh, he follows, entering the lab shortly after you.

Maybe this is why he didn’t like people besides his friends. People were difficult.

The next day, as everyone was still waiting for the lab results from the prior day, you decided to spend your morning reading a book you brought along when you and Minho went to your house to get things.

By the time it was a little past 12:00 noon, you decided to eat lunch in one of the snack bars of the living quarters. The main cafeteria at the ground floor was usually crowded with other agents, so you opted for the smaller snack bar at the fourth floor; maybe things would be more quiet there, allowing you to be alone for a while.

You lean on one of the countertops, staring blankly at the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you. The croissant on your plate is barely eaten, the glazed ham inside trying to catch your attention again. Alas, you find yourself swimming in your thoughts again...except you aren’t leisurely wading but exhaustingly swimming laps in a never ending ocean.

What if you couldn’t find a way to safely negate and dispose of the serum? Would that mean you’d be stuck here for years? Sure, you’re a scientist and doctor, but did that mean you had the solution? What if you really couldn’t do it?

You sigh deeply, cradling your head in your hands as you internally groan. You’re finally disturbed from your state when your phone - or the phone SKZ gave you to use for work-related matters and such - began to vibrate on the counter’s surface. You check the caller ID to see that Seungmin was calling.

“Hello?” you answer tiredly.

“Y/n.” Seungmin starts, “Jisung got the test results just now. Minho wants you to come now.”

“Ok, where?”

“Lab Room 4.”

“I’m coming.”

You drag yourself off the stool, grabbing the phone and leaving the snack bar.

When you enter the lab room, Jisung, Minho, Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Jung are there already, all seated on the chairs provided. You make an effort to avoid everyone’s eyes, focusing instead on the sheets of paper in Jisung’s hand. “What did you find?” you ask immediately.

Jisung holds his pointer finger up before waving the sheets of paper in the air. “So I was right about majority of their stuff being sulfuric acid. And as y/n pointed out, there were a lot of nitrogen and hydrogen formulas being tested. Seungmin was also correct in observing the chlorine properties.” the scientist explains.

Jung leans back on the chair and nods slowly, “Yet they can’t seem to find the perfect formula, huh.”

Chan shrugs, “All those chemicals are dangerous in itself. I’m sure they want something much more potent and destructive. Instant death kind of stuff.”

“What else can we deduce from those results?” Minho inquires.

Jisung nods, “Well, you shouldn’t be able to obtain such chemicals in drugstores or anything. Only licensed and authorized organizations, clinics or labs are allowed to distribute and acquire them. Luckily, we know where most, if not all, these chemicals are supplied.”

“Gimpo.” you state, eyes scanning the test result papers, “Nitrogen, hydrogen, chlorine and sulfuric acid - whether gas, liquid or solid - are mostly supplied and distributed in a lab in Gimpo. Only licensed people are allowed to go and purchase things, usually for lab work or hospital stocks.”

Changbin leans forward, looking at Minho and Chan, “Then I guess we know where to sniff around.”

The two agree with the agent, the three of them turning their attention to Jung. The head hums for a second before sitting up straight and nodding. “I want the three of you to investigate. If this is a highly secured and picky location, we’d need a permit to enter. Y/n, would you happen to have access to this lab?”

You contemplate whether to tell the truth - yes, you do - but you didn’t really want to go, thus being conflicted in lying and saying no.

But what if you told them about whatever permit you had and they later on use that to their advantage? What if it allows SKZ to gain control and access to dangerous chemicals and drugs?

It wouldn’t be the first time people exploited you for your skills and qualifications, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time people from SKZ use others to do the wrong things.

Ironic. You hated lies and being lied to, yet here you were, almost willing to do so.

However, that urge doesn’t last long. Not when Minho is staring at you with a piercing gaze. A piercing gaze that shoots past your flimsy, sheet-thin mask as if looking into your very soul.

As if telling you that he already knew the answer.

In his defense, your body language was quite easy to read. That was one of his special gifts, perhaps; to read and observe how people behave. Not a mind reader, definitely not, but experience and certain events taught him to see past people much better now.

You eventually nod your head, replying with a shaky voice, “I do. My license as both scientist and doctor permits me to visit that lab.”

“Great. Jisung, do you have anything of that sort as well?” Jung turns to the male.

“Yeah.” Jisung nods, “I have a scientific permit of sorts.”

“Seungmin?”

“Medical license, but I still need to finish some things up in the medical wing.” Seungmin explains, “Some agents still need their injuries checked and all.”

“I see.” Jung nods, “Then Jisung and y/n will accompany Minho and the rest on this investigation. The sooner you leave, the better.”

“Got it.” the three agents respond in unison while Jisung nods.

Jung dismisses everyone and leaves the room first. Before Chan leaves next, he says, “Should we head out in an hour?”

“Sounds good.” Changbin nods, “I’ll get things ready.”

Jisung says he’s going to do the same, so the two exit the room. Chan smiles at you, “Dr. Song, just bring whatever you think is necessary. Or...you don’t need to bring anything actually.”

With that, he leaves as well. You then turn to Minho, biting your lip before speaking. But as you open your mouth to say whatever, Minho speaks ahead. “Call the lab and inform them that we’ll be dropping by for inquiry and business purposes.” he says sharply, “We’ll get things done faster if we aren’t held back by their questions on the site itself.”

You nod but still ask, “And if they ask anything more?”

“Come up with a believable explanation.”

“So lie?”

Minho smirks, his voice dripping with pure and utter sarcasm, “Surely you can do that, Dr. Song.” he looks at you with a gaze you can’t quite read - disappointment, perhaps - before continuing, “You were just about ready to do that not so long ago.”

“I didn’t - ”

“Don’t lie to me or anyone in here, Dr. Song.” Minho warns, the smirk now gone and replaced with a scowl, “You wouldn’t like it if you were the one lied to.”

He then leaves the lab room, leaving you to deal with your fuming irritation.

Yes, you didn’t like it, but jokes on him because it already happened before.

And by the very people of the organization he worked in.

[dewitty1]

Isolated Thunderstorms and Scattered Showers

triggerlil @triggerlil

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Anthony Goldstein/Wayne Hopkins, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Relationship Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Anthony Goldstein, Wayne Hopkins, Harry Potter Characters, Original Characters Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pining, Denial of Feelings, Some Humor, Panic Attacks, Harry Potter has Anxiety, Apologies, Questioning Sexuality, Brief Mention of Coma

Summary:

Post-war, Harry needs space. Everything is too much all at once, and time and time again, he finds himself pulling the invisibility cloak over his head, just for a bit of peace.

Returning for eighth year is hard, especially when you're considered a war hero, and your name is Harry James Potter. It's just that things go a little wonky when Harry starts following Malfoy, and finds that he can't (or doesn't want to) stop.

Excerpt:

Malfoy seemed to finally notice his sleeve was still rolled up and pushed it down hastily. "Why have you been doing it?" 

"I don't know. Everyone is always looking at me, or talking about me, or something." Harry couldn't believe he was telling this to Malfoy, this thing he had never said out loud, but now that he was talking he didn't know how to stop. "Sometimes it feels so hard to breathe, like the pressure of what everyone expects is sitting on my chest, or…." Harry trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know."

Malfoy let out a slow breath. "I understand." 

Harry sat up a bit straighter, turning to face Malfoy. This close, openly staring at each other, both soaked, it felt terrifyingly intimate. 

"The son of a Death Eater, a Death Eater in my own right—people are always wary around me. You know, crowds will part as I walk through, because no one wants to be near me."

"I'm near you," Harry said dumbly.

"Yes, I see that." Malfoy smirked. 

"After that moment on the train, I just…." Harry wanted to look anywhere but Malfoy as he said this, and yet he couldn't look away from those glittering grey eyes, which seemed to be prying out every secret Harry had ever held. "I couldn't stop looking for you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow nonchalantly, but Harry could see his fingers tighten, gripping the stone. Harry brought his own hands down to the cold steps, which cut into his fingers painfully.

"It was like sixth year all over again," Harry bemoaned, letting that admission hang heavy around them. 

The rain was finally beginning to let up, the setting sun sending light scattering across fresh puddles and rippling across the grounds. 

"Hopefully not, since you thought I was up to something." 

Harry blinked against the sudden brightness as the sun shimmered across the Great Lake in the distance. "No, not this time." Harry let his hand shift an inch towards Malfoy's. "And… I'm sorry," he bit out, something inside him rearing at the idea of apologising to Malfoy, but he tamped it down. "I'm sorry, for erm, in the bathroom." 

Malfoy nodded curtly. "Well if we're giving apologies, I suppose I'm sorry for, you know, most of it." 

"You suppose?" 

“I—No, I am sorry. For all of it. I was… a real twat. I was terrible, more than terrible. I hated myself, and I hated everyone around me, and it’s not an excuse, but I see that now. How terrible I was, I mean. I made mistakes, and I want to make up for them. And I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

Harry moved his hand another quarter inch. He wasn’t sure how to respond to something so sincere. "You really were a twat."

"You're not supposed to agree with me, you git."

“Then what would be the point of your apology?” 

“You’re right,” Draco sighed. “Prick.”

"Of course I am." Harry crept his hand even closer. There were only a few centimetres separating them now. “Dickhead.” 

"I hate you."

"Well, I don’t," Harry said, and he realised that he meant it. He could sense Malfoy's hand next to his own, and didn’t dare to move any closer. Could Malfoy feel it too?

The sun had almost set, and a chill carried on the evening air. "What are we going to do now?" Malfoy asked.

Harry shrugged. "Well, we’re not enemies." 

"No," Malfoy agreed. “But we’re not friends.

Harry nodded. “Not friends, but not enemies.” 

"Even though I have the dark mark?"

Harry couldn't forget the images of green skulls bursting across the night sky, the floating masks in the graveyard, the dark mark slithering across people's wrists when Voldemort called for them. But he also saw Malfoy's blotchy and terrified face as he showed the mark to Dumbledore, and right now, sitting on the steps, he saw that Malfoy's knuckles were white. 

"You made mistakes, you did bad things, but that… doesn't mean you're a bad person." 

"Saviour Potter strikes again—"

Harry felt a tiny flare of anger. "Oh fuck off, Malfoy, I'm not trying to be all holier-than-thou. I'm serious. Snape had the dark mark, but he took actions to prove himself more than that."

Malfoy sighed, turning away, and Harry pulled his hand back to cross his arms. 

"We should go inside," Harry said, standing up. 

"Wait, Potter," Malfoy said, grabbing the edge of Harry's robes. He stood up awkwardly, dropping his arms to his sides. "If we're not friends or enemies, then what are we?"

"I think…" Harry started, steeling himself. "I think we’re nothing on the way to being something."

"What does that even mean, you idiot?"

"It means I don't want to use the invisibility cloak anymore, and I don't want you to avoid everyone anymore."

"The school year is almost over. Isn't it a bit late for that?"

Harry shook his head. "It's only spring, Malfoy." 

"Whatever, Potter. I'm cold and wet, I'm going inside." 

"Cast a drying charm, or aren't you a pureblood wizard?" 

Malfoy rolled his eyes, pulling out his wand. He rolled it in his palm. "Why did my wand react to you?" 

"I don't know, Malfoy." 

"It felt different after you gave it back to me."

"Do you think it's because of… us?"

Malfoy scowled, and Harry steeled himself, holding out his hand. Malfoy regarded him with surprised disdain. Harry imagined they were both aware of the parallels, and for a moment, he worried Malfoy would just turn around and walk right into the castle. Say fuck all to apologies, to being a better person. Harry had rejected him once, why give him a second chance? But, tentatively, Malfoy clasped Harry's hand. Malfoy—no, he was Draco now, maybe had been for some time—Draco’s grip was firm but his skin soft. And just like when Harry had held on to Draco’s wand, he felt a rush of energy, of comfort, the feeling of coming home, and judging by Draco's widening eyes, he felt it too. 

"What does that mean?" Draco whispered with a tremor in his voice, as they let their hands drop to their sides.

“I’m not sure,” Harry replied honestly. “That there’s more to all this than we thought?”

Malfoy smirked. “I guess we’ve always kind of gravitated towards each other.” 

Harry tried to quell the blush that bloomed on his cheeks, but when Malfoy’s eyes glinted and the tips of his ears turned pink, he knew he had failed. Harry turned, and Draco finally cast those drying charms. 

Silently, they headed back into the castle. Even though people whispered as they walked through the Entrance Hall, Harry felt better knowing it wasn't just about him anymore, but him and Draco, that they were sharing this burden. There were still lots of things to talk about between the two of them, but they had made a tentative start. Harry wasn't sure what was going to happen next, and as they made their way to the eighth year table in the Great Hall, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to do after all this. Stay on at Hogwarts? Or was there something better out there waiting for him? 

(◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

[nothingbutchilledwriting]

Square Scene

A little taste of what my writing is like and some character interactions. (Still in the draft phase) A very graphic description of a panic attack and self deprecating and self hating, so just be careful

The square was too busy for his tastes: crowds of people bustled about, brushing shoulders as the hollering of vendors echoed over the obnoxious chattering of the latest gossip. Tired grey eyes scanned the sea of heads, brow furrowing in disdain at the hive of activity despite the battering heat of the afternoon sun. He hated crowds, preferring rather die than to deal with the sweaty mass of strangers. But the food stalls were on the other side of the squirming colony of bodies- of course they were -and he debated on whether or not it was worth it. Just as he turned to go back in, resigning to his fate, his stomach growled…. On second thought, he’ll do it. After all, he did promise the others food (Says he as he rolled his eyes with a scoff).

               Glaring at the dense wall of people from the entrance of the inn, Jean considered his options. Try push through and run the risk of someone getting hurt? Or, go back inside and deal with the bombardment of questions that were sure to come? Hmm, decisions, decisions… Yeah, his pride wouldn’t allow for him to back down either, the gnawing hunger becoming more persistent the longer he stood there. With a long-suffering sigh, and a quick mumble of profanity under his breath, he eyed the crowd for a few more moments, nose wrinkled in disgust with what he was about to do. Then, with a swift pull, he tugged his hood down and plunged into the writhing bodies. Instant regret flooded him.

               People bumped into him- Pandora knows where they’ve been -and the sick feeling of dread churned his empty stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was- stop touching me! His skin crawled at the too intimate touch of a foreign arm and resisted the urge to run, squirming uncomfortably. No, he could do this, he was fine, it's fine (can you just shut up!) Heart thudding against his ribcage, Jean pulled his hood further down, tilting his head further to avoid seeing their faces. Just a few more seconds, a few more seconds and he’ll be on the other side- he had severely underestimated how stressful crowds could be (again).

               Arms going cold and numb, his limbs jerked awkwardly, muscles pulled taut as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin as his body. He must’ve looked drunk to onlookers, hilarious even as he stumbled around like a toddler (pathetic). Everything felt so heavy, like wading through mud chin deep. He didn’t know why it affected him so much, having pondered over it many times before. But having so many people, so many pairs of eyes watching him; unable to judge their thoughts, unable to see what they’re thinking was overwhelming. His throat constricted, nearly painful with how tight it squeezed his windpipe and suffocated him (Jesus Christ).

He felt exposed, like he’d been ripped open and had his guts spilled, unravelled, and strewn about to reveal his deepest secret, leaving him raw and open for everyone to see. Jean despised the feeling of vulnerability, hated feeling helpless to stop his body from reacting like it did. A grimace contorted his face. He shouldn’t act like this, this is what a child does, cower like a weak wrench. No, he was a grown man, not a small child anymore. With that, he reluctantly rose his gaze, trying to look everywhere but the blurred faces in the crowd.

               And Jean tried, he really did, but one glance to the side sent a bolt of cold terror shooting down his spine, icy water crashing over his shoulders and rooting him to the spot. It wasn’t intentional, a mere reflex flick of an eye that had seen something of interest. Between the poles of two stalls, just lurking in the shadows of the tarp, was a face. A face that had been burned into his memory, one that he’d seen over and over again in a masochistic replay of that event, one that he hoped he’d never see again. Like a punch to the gut, everything came rushing back again. He was drowning but there was nobody here to help. Not this time. This time, he was on his own. Helpless to the writhing crowd, he could only stand and stare.

               Then it moved. Slithering towards him, it snaked through the bodies like it was nothing, a cruel grin hooking their lip as it twisted to the side. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to move, but that piercing gaze held him captive, unable to move or shout. Desperation clawed at his insides, tearing at flesh and tissue with serrated claws. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get his legs to move so he could run. The face drew closer. The stench of decay wafted towards him and the sour taste of bile filled his mouth. So close now, too close. Hysterical panic bubbled in his chest as that horrific scar curled with the delighted, malicious glee scrunching their eyes. No. No, stop, stop it, stop it! - the resonating gong of the afternoon bell split his ear and snapped him back to reality.  The last thing he saw was a rotten arm reaching out for him, blackened flesh dripping off bone before he took off in the opposite direction.

               Relying on his instincts, he sprinted with wild abandon, leather boots pounding into the earth as his body worked to get him as far away from the square as possible. He was no longer conscious of where he was or where he was going, the only thing clear was his primal need to run, to escape. Lungs heaving for air, he gasped, near hyperventilating, as blood rushed to his face, taking all the back roads he knew. A part of him was vaguely aware of the voice shouting his name from behind him but stopping meant danger. Stopping meant he was going to get caught. So, he didn’t. Instead, he continued to pump his legs as adrenaline coursed through his veins, running from the invisible threat nipping at his heels.

               He turned a corner and, before he knew what was going on, crashed into a solid body, nearly taking both of them to the ground. Alarm bells went off in his head; he had to keep moving, had to keep running. He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. Hysteria clawed at his mind, talons digging deep until the only thing he knew was pain. Jean struggled against the eerily familiar hold, thrashing violently to get away but their grip wouldn’t let up. He didn’t even realise he was screaming until a large hand cradled the back of his neck, squashing his face into a firm, sturdy chest. His spit soaked the stranger’s clothes, mouth wide open as choked cries tore through his throat.

               Gentle, somewhat gruff, hushed whispers pierced through the cotton fogging his mind, chapped lips brushing against his ear as they tumbled from the stranger- a repeated, gravelly mantra of: “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s alright.” So soft and quiet that Jean nearly had to strain to pick them up. A pang of, something, made his heartache and he couldn’t figure out why. “Relax, you’re alright, they can’t hurt you anymore, it’s okay. Shh just relax, c’mon, that’s it, yes just relax into me. it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.”

               Slowly, Jean sagged into their hold, the strangely familiar comfort putting his mind at ease, even if for just a few seconds. Okay- a drawn out, deep sigh- okay, it’s okay. Jean allowed the person to rock him (like a damn baby), some part of him still wanting to fight it but the other part accepting it wholeheartedly. That needy, irritating side of him that irked him to no end. After mustering up the strength, he forced himself to look up, fully prepared to chew the stranger out and swear them to secrecy (politely, of course).

“I don’t usually do this and if you tell anybody about- “Stormy eyes met those nervously warm, golden eyes and all words of protest died on his tongue. Instead, words of a more aggressive and violent nature bubbled up in his chest, an involuntary growl rising in his abused throat.

 “You.”

[iwritesickfic]

right here with you

(continuation of my previous fic, “boy who cried flu”)

“Peter?” The voice breaks through the haze in his head, and he struggles to open his eyes. There’s a hand on his shoulder. There’s a heavy blanket tucked around him, but he’s shivering and he draws his knees up to his chest, trying to conserve what little warmth he has left. Ashlynn is there, kneeling so they’re face to face. He’s lying on the couch, though he can’t remember why. She rubs his shoulder, and smiles when their eyes meet. She bites her lip and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. “Hey,” she says, voice quiet and careful. He forces a small smile back at her.

“Hey.” His voice is completely shot.

“Me and Simon just got back from the store. I got you some stuff.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” she says, her palm back on his forehead. She’s so careful, like she’s afraid he might break.

He knows she’s in love with him. He’s known for a long time. If he were a different person they’d be together, but he is who he is, so they won’t be. She deserves someone better than him. That said, sometimes he likes to ignore that and just let her love wrap him up the way she wants it to. Times like now.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks, and she pulls her hand back. He knows that’s not why she was touching him, but he asks anyway.

“Still warm,” she says, and digs through the plastic bag at her feet. The front door opens and slams, and he winces, the throbbing in his head worsening. He must make a sound too, because Ashlynn glares at the doorway. “Alex! Be quiet!” She hisses, and Peter cracks a smile.

“S’ok Ash,” he mumbles and she sighs.

“I know, but you don’t feel good.” She’s sort of frantic, and against his better judgement he brushes some of her hair behind her ear, albeit weakly. She freezes.

“I’ll be fine.Just relax.” If anything, she looks even more nervous. Touching her like this - so intimately - was probably not the best strategy to get her to calm down he realizes too late, but he hates to see her so worked up.

“Right. I know.” She forces a little smile as if to reassure him that everything’s fine, but he knows it’s making her anxious to see him like this. And even more anxious knowing there’s barely anything she can do about it.

“Is the date still going on or can I make the bed?” Alex asks, and Ashlynn blushes. She stammers for a second before Peter pushes himself up.

“Do you want help?” He asks, and Alex laughs.

“Are you kidding? No, man, relax. Me and Simon have it.” He drops the bundle of fresh sheets and blankets onto the bed, and Simon starts to chide him about wrinkles. Their conversation fades out of Peter’s focus, he’s back to staring at Ashlynn, who’s back to digging through her CVS bag. She looks up suddenly.

“Shit, I should really take your temperature again.” He gives a wet sniffle, and she places a box of tissues on the couch. “There, since you ran out.”

“Thanks.” He pulls out a few and blows futilely, little to nothing moving in his stuffed head. The force of the blowing drives him into a coughing fit, they’ve gotten so bad he’s afraid he’s going to pull a muscle. He might have already, judging by the sharp pain in his ribs. She rubs his back, and when he’s done, slides the thermometer back under his tongue.

“You might need to see somebody,” she says, and he sighs.

“Can’t afford it.”

“That’s not a good reason.”

“I’ll be fine. Unless you have 300 bucks lying around it’s not gonna happen,” he jokes, but she doesn’t smile.

“I could ask my parents.” It wasn’t a secret Ashlynn’s family had money. Most of Peter’s friends do. Most young creative people living in the city have a pretty stable family support system. Peter is not one of those people. 

“Ash, no.” He hopes his voice sounds firm. It’s bad enough he’s sick, he won’t be taking hand outs from his friend’s parents. He won’t be a charity case.

“What if it gets worse?”

“It won’t.”

“But what if it does? You look half dead, Peter.” the thermometer beeps, and he clenches his jaw. “103.8. That’s not high enough for you?” It’s hard for him to argue. Partially because she’s got a point, but mostly because his thoughts are so hazy. “I’ll drag you if I need to. Not right now, but...if it comes to it. I’m not gonna see my friend suffer like this over 300 dollars. I paid more for my headshots.”

“Fine.” The word comes out on a breath, and she looks guilty. She opens the bottle of water by her feet and he takes it shakily. She hands him a few pills and he pops them dutifully into his mouth, downing them with a swig of water. It’s then he realizes how thirsty he’s been. He practically chugs the entire thing, but it settles uneasily in his stomach. He closes his eyes, back to being exhausted.

“Bed’s ready!” Alex says, and Peter groans softly. He’d just gotten comfortable on the couch, now he has to get up again. Wearily, he sits up, the blanket falling from his shoulders, and his shivering picks up considerably. It’s only a few steps from the couch to the bed, so he’s able to make it by himself, but he’s incredibly embarrassed looking so helpless.

“You guys can leave now, if you want to,” he murmurs, hoping they’ll go so he can be spared any more mortification.

“Alright, sounds good to me. You’ll be good?” Alex asks, and Peter nods.

“I’ll head out too, let me know if you need anything, you know I’m only two stops down,” Simon adds, and the two of them leave, Alex giving him a wink on the way out.

Ashlynn sits hesitantly on the edge of the bed.

“You want me to go?” He shakes his head. “Ok,” she whispers and he lets his eyes close. She cards her fingers through his hair, and he sucks in a soft breath. He should tell her to stop. This is verging a little too far outside of the just friends territory, but it feels so nice he doesn’t say anything. He’s a shitty person, to lead her on like this, and the guilt - maybe something else too - twists his stomach into a tight knot. She keeps running her fingers through his hair. “Leave it to you to come down with the flu in the dead of summer,” she says, and he hums in response. 

His shivering’s begun to die down, and if he didn’t know any better he’d be grateful, but now he’s just bracing himself for the waves of heat. Every breath he takes is tight and makes his chest burn. Experimentally, he tries a deep breath, but it only leads to another vicious bout of coughs he tries to smother into his elbow. The last thing he wants is for her to catch this too - if this is what it’s done to him he doesn’t want to know how she’d feel. Heat rushes into his face, and he can’t hold back his small sound of discomfort. He peels off the comforter, trying not to look as desperate as he feels, and tries to catch his breath. The heat’s made breathing worse, it’s stifling. 

“You’re feeling hot?” She asks, and he nods, hoping this means she’ll be able to do something about it. She rests her hand on his cheek, and he wants to cry - the cool touch is incredible and he can’t stop the small gasp of relief he lets out. The respite only lasts for a moment, her palm quickly heating up to match his fiery cheek. “That feels good?”

“Mmm.”

“I bet. The shivering means it’s rising though, so this might be uncomfortable but it’s a good sign.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I played an ER nurse on the pilot of some Law and Order rip off.”

“So you went to medical school?”

“Basically, yeah.” She laughs softly. “I’ll be right back, ok?” She’s back in just a few moments with his cereal bowl and the washcloth she’d laid on the nape of his neck earlier. This time, she presses it to his forehead, and the relief is immediate. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and she laughs softly.

“Yeah?” He nods, and she moves it to the side of his neck.

“Fuck.” His voice shudders, and she smiles. 

“You’re pretty easy to impress.”

After the initial relief starts to ebb away he feels self conscious. Here he is practically moaning with the first fever of his life in front of one of his best friends.

“S-sorry, that just...that just feels really good.”

“It’s fine, Peter.”

“I uh, I think I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“Yeah?” She moves the cloth so it rests against his cheek.

“You can, uh...you can go, if you want, I don’t want you to get bored or something.”

“Do you want me to go?” He swallows thickly. He wants to lie, but he can’t bring himself to.

“No, but-”

“Then I’m staying right here. Right here with you.” A smile creeps onto his face, and she smiles back.

Then, his phone starts to ring. He winces, and the moment’s broken. Ashlynn picks up the device, staring blankly at the screen. She hands it to him silently.

Leo

Leo. His boyfriend Leo. Peter takes a deep breath before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hey love. I’ve been texting, where are you?”

“Home. I have the flu.”

“Peter -”

“I’m serious, Ash is here with me she can tell you.” 

“Why are you with her?” He asks, and though it’s clear he’s trying not to sound annoyed, he is.

“I was supposed to go out to the beach with them this morning but I felt like shit so they came over anyway. Ash just picked up some stuff from CVS.” He throws her a small smile, and she forces one back.

“So what’s the deal, you’ve got a cough?”

“Fever. Bad fever.”

“Oh love...” Leo’s voice is dripping in concern. “I’m coming over, alright?”

“You don’t need to. Ash is actually doing a great job, and I just wanna sleep anyway, so -”

“You’re telling your boyfriend, who’s in med school, that you’d rather be taken care of by an aspiring actress?” He hopes Ashlynn can’t overhear.

“Leo -”

“I’m on my way, just uh...I’ll be there, so -”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Ok, I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yup. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Peter hangs up. He stares at the blank screen for a moment before looking up at Ashlynn.

“Leo’s coming over, so you can uh, you can get going, if you want. I mean obviously thank you so much for staying and doing all this it’s really sweet.” She gives him another forced smile.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. We’re friends, so...” She sighs and gets up, grabbing her backpack from where it lies on the floor. “Simon texted and said they’re down the block getting food, so if you’d like to see me later I’ll be around. Or you can just, you know how to text me. Yeah. Ok. Feel better.”

She leaves, and Peter sighs heavily. 

[isabvllas]

         ♡ . *  (   jennie  kim,  cis  female,  she  /  her   )   have  you  heard   ?   it  seems  like  the  heir  of  the  MUN  dynasty  was  very  close  to  liam  yu  too.  they  go  by  ISABELLA  and  they  were  liam’s  FAMILY  FRIEND.  their  networth  is  of  82M  and  they’re  only  TWENTY-THREE  …  what  a  burden  it  must  be.  i  heard  they  can  be  very  COQUETTISH  and  VIVACIOUS.  but  these  last  few  months,  their  DISINGENUOUS  and  VAIN  personality  has  been  showing  more.  the  media  is  sure  having  a  field  day  with  them   !   i  hope  this  road  trip  with  friends  will  help  them.  did  you  know  that  CHEWING  BUBBLEGUM  AFTER  LUNCH,  WHISPERING  SECRETS  TO  A  LOVER,  CANDY  HEARTS  and  PILLOWS  STAINED  WITH  TEARS  really  show  their  true  persona   ?    maybe  liam  was  the  only  one  who  knew  that  ...   

         hi  everyone,  i’m  so  happy  to  be  here   !!!   my  name  is  diana,  i’m  twenty,  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns,  and  reside  in  the  est  timezone.  some  quick  facts  abt  me:  i’m  a  libra  and  girl  group  stan   !!   below  u  can  read  a  bit  abt  my  muse  isabella  hehe  if  u  like  this  post  i’ll  hit  u  up  for  plots   !!!   my  discord  is   missing blackpink hours#5522  if  u  wanna  message  me  there,  but  if  not,  im’s  work  just  fine  <3

♡ . *    𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔    !

full  name :  isabella  grace  mun

nickname(s)  :  bella,  isa  (  by  liam  only  )

age  :  twenty-three

zodiac  :  libra  sun,  scorpio  moon   (  click  )

sexuality  :  bisexual

alignment  :  chaotic  neutral

pinterest  :  click

♡ . *    𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅    !   (   drug  tw   )

keeping  up  appearances  has  always  been  the  mun  family’s  main  focus.  everything  they  do  is  an  attempt  to  better  their  public  image.  her  parents  marriage  was  merely  another  business  agreement  between  two  powerful  families

her  father’s  side  works  in  finance  and  investments,  while  her  mother’s  side  owns  one  of  the  wealthiest  PR  firms  in  the  world

her  parents  got  married  because  there  was  nothing  the  public  loved  more  than  family.  you  could  get  away  with  almost  anything  with  the  illusion  strong  family  values  under  your  belt.  isabella’s  conception  was  just  part  of  the  arrangement

her  mother  was  not  particularly  maternal.  her  husband  was  a  few  years  to  her  senior,  so  she  was  still  fairly  young  when  she  got  pregnant.  however,  they  had  already  been  married  for  two  years  and  a  baby  was  part  of  the  deal

isabella  was  passed  along  through  a  string  of  nannies.  none  of  them  stuck  around  long  enough  to  give  her  the  emotional  support  she  so  desperately  desired.  she  clung  to  adult  figures  throughout  the  majority  of  her  childhood,  from  boarding  school  teachers  to  private  tutors

as  she  grew  older,  however,  she  began  to  understand  the  way  of  things.  she  barely  spent  any  time  with  her  parents,  but  the  one  thing  she  learned  from  her  father  was  how  to  look  out  for  herself.  no  one  else  was  going  to  do  it  for  her

throughout  secondary  school,  she  perfected  the  art  of  getting  what  she  wants.  she’d  put  on  a  sweet,  helpless  act  to  manipulate  those  around  her.  she  became  fluent  in  lying,  and  it  always  worked  to  her  advantage  that  she  had  a  face  people  could  trust

she  spent  her  teen  years  growing  a  social  media  following,  becoming  a  beauty  influencer.  she  was  seen  as  an  it  girl,  credited  for  starting  various  fashion  trends

without  anyone  looking  after  her,  isabella  was  able  to  do  whatever  she  wanted.  however,  she  also  learned  from  her  parents  the  importance  of  maintaining  a  pristine  image.  so,  she  partied  and  had  her  fun  out  of  the  public  eye,  or  so  she  thought

at  seventeen,  isabella  had  her  first  coke  scandal  after  pictures  of  her  were  leaked  to  the  tabloids.  it  was  like  a  rich  kids  right  of  passage.  her  parents  were  furious  with  her.  for  a  moment,  isabella  felt  hopeful.  they  were  furious  because  they  cared,  right  ?  unfortunately  for  her,  it  wasn’t  because  of  what  she  was  doing.  they  were  only  angry  she  was  stupid  enough  to  get  caught

isabella’s  mother  took  care  of  cleaning  up  her  image.  after  all,  damage  control  is  what  she  knew  how  to  do  best.  isabella  was  forced  to  take  a  break  from  social  media.  according  to  the  statement  her  family  put  out,  she  was  under  a  lot  of  stress  from  running  a  social  media  empire  at  such  a  young  age.  as  per  her  mother’s  instructions,  her  social  media  blackout  lasted  a  year.  by  the  time  she  was  back  in  the  public  eye,  she  had  graduated  high  school  and  was  started  the  next  chapter  of  her  life

however,  the  year  she  took  away  from  social  media  was  the  most  time  she  had  ever  spent  with  her  parents.  she  was  forced  to  stay  with  them  so  they  could  keep  her  from  further  tarnishing  the  perfect  image  they  had  created  for  themselves.  during  this  time,  she  found  out  she  hated  her  parents.  they  were  cold,  and  completely  emotionless

she  felt  alone  most  of  the  time.  her  friends  were  almost  always  fake,  and  so  was  she.  she  was  always  putting  on  a  mask  too,  so  it’d  be  unfair  to  even  judge.  but  the  only  person  she  could  ever  trust  was  herself.  except  liam  was  different

she  knew  liam  her  whole  life  through  familial  connections,  but  she  only  got  closer  to  him  over  recent  years.  he  seemed  to  be  the  only  person  who  could  understand  her.  she  started  to  confide  in  him  with  a  lot  of  things.  he  made  her  feel  less  alone,  a  true  friend.  it  was  unlike  anything  she  had  ever  experienced  before  and  she  wasn’t  used  to  anyone  genuinely  caring.  he  would  let  her  sleepover  whenever  she  was  going  through  something

his  loss  hit  her  hard.  even  though  she  tries  to  appear  like  she’s  grieving  his  loss  healthily,  she  isn’t.  isabella  has  convinced  herself  she’s  cursed,  like  his  loss  was  her  fault  just  because  he  was  associated  to  her.  like  everything  she  touches  falls  apart.  she  kinda  started  using  drugs  again  more  heavily  because  of  everything,  where  before  she  mainly  only  used  in  social  settings

♡ . *    𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚    !

isabella  appears  to  be  an  extrovert  on  the  surface.  even  though  most  of  it  is  an  act,  she  has  a  lively  presence.  she  likes  to  be  the  life  of  the  party  and  the  center  of  attention,  but  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  it’s  just  part  of  the  persona  she  puts  on  for  others

she’s  playfully  flirty  with  almost  everyone.  it  started  as  a  way  to  manipulate  people,  but  she  also  finds  amusement  in  it  now.  to  her,  everything  life  is  a  game  and  she  wants  to  win

she  is  always  trying  to  manipulate  people  for  her  own  selfish  gain,  however,  she’s  extremely  careful  to  be  lowkey  about  it  so  no  one  really  knows.  she  appears  to  be  very  sincere  and  considerate  of  others.  most  people  view  her  as  harmless,  which  is  exactly  what  she  wants.  she  wants  people  to  underestimate  her

isabella  can  be  quite  full  of  herself.  she  obsesses  over  her  appearance  like  24/7  partially  due  to  her  social  media  presence.  she  won’t  leave  the  house  without  looking presentable  because  she  refuses  to  be  spotted  looking  bad

but  aside  from  obsessing  over  her  looks,  she  also  has  a  superiority  complex.  she  thinks  she’s  better  and  smarter  than  most  people,  but  she  doesn’t  show  this  side  of  herself  too  often

she  loves  to  go  out  and  be  in  the  presence  of  strangers.  she  feels  closer  to  them  than  to  the  people  she  actually  knows.  but  it’s  one  of  the  reasons  she  loves  parties  so  much.  asksjhkjsh  like  that  part  in  great  gatsby  where  that  girl  was  like  large  parties  are  much  more  intimate  !!!  that’s  bella 

her  life  is  ultimately  unfulfilling  tho,  because  the  way  she  masquerades  around  pretending  to  be  one  way  just  to  use  people  for  her  own  benefit  has  left  her  completely  alone.  she  seeks  real  friendships  and  relationships  deep  down,  but  she  does  everything  in  her  power  to  bury  this  side  of  herself.  she  also  seeks  validation  but  doesnt  care  enough  about  anyone’s  opinions  to  ever  receive  it

♡ . *    𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔    !

partner  in  crime  -  someone  who  she  can  scheme  with,  someone  who  will  play  these  little  games  with  her,  someone  she  has  fun  with

ex-lover  -  there  could  b  more  than  one  of  these   !!!    they  could  have  ended  on  bad  terms  or  good  terms,  still  have  lingering  feels  or  tension  maybe  they’re  friends  or  maybe  they  just  try  to  stay  away  from  each  other 

unrequited  crush  -  ur  muse  could  have  a  crush  on  her  and  maybe  she’s  oblivious  or  maybe  she  uses  it  to  her  advantage.  OR  we’d  have  to  plot  this  out  well  but  maybe  she  has  genuine  feelings  for  your  muse  and  doesn’t  know  what  to  do  about  it  because  this  never  really  happens

requited  feelings  -  speaks  for  itself,  but  our  muses  have  feelings  for  each  other.  ik  isabella  would  make  things  complicated  just  because  it  would  be  hard  for  her  to  accept  that  she  actually  cares  about  someone  that  isn’t  herself

will they,  won’t  they  -  there’s  tension  between  them,  but  nothing  has  ever  come  out  of  it  yet.  maybe  something  has  almost  happened,  maybe  they’ve  kissed  once,  but  either  way  the  tension  lingers  in  the  air  whenever  they’re  together

flirtationship  -  they  flirt  with  each  other  constantly,  but  nothing  has  ever  come  from  their  flirting.  maybe  they  have  good  chemistry,  but  haven't  done  anything  about  it  and  maybe  they  don’t  want  to.  maybe  they  don’t  want  to  ruin  a  good  thing 

current fling/friends  w  benefits -  someone  she  is  currently  seeing.  it’s  most  likely  no  strings  attached,  but  maybe  it’s  someone  she  genuinely  cares  about  as  a friend

enemies  w  benefits  -  imagine  the  tension   !!!   they  started  out  hating  each  other  but  ended  up  hooking  up.  maybe  it  was  a  one  time  thing,  or  maybe  they  can’t  stop  going  back  to  each  other.  maybe  they  keep  it  a  secret  and  don’t  want  anyone  else  to  know.  this  could  develop  in  soooo  many  ways  pls  this  is  so  sexy  !!!!

party  buddies  -  they  always  go  to  parties  together.  maybe  they  don’t  see  each  other  outside  of  parties,  maybe  they  met  at  a  party  and  started  hanging  out  more  afterwards

drug  /  alcohol  buddies  -  someone  she  gets  fucked  up  with.  maybe  they’re  not  that  close  when  they’re  sober,  but  are  way  closer  when  under  the  influence

ex-friends  -  someone  she  used  to  consider  a  close  friend,  but  they  had  a  falling  out  for  whatever  reason  n  maybe  they  strongly  dislike  each  other  now,  which  means  isabella  is  probably  trying  to  plot  their  down  fall

sibling-like friendship  -  someone  she  sees  like  a  sibling.  since  she’s  an  only  child,  i’d  love  a  friendship  that  feels  like  family

unlikely  friends  -  a  pair  you  wouldn't  imagine  would  be  friends,  but  for  whatever  reason,  they  get  along  well

cousins  -  they  could  get  along  well,  or  maybe  there’s  family  drama  that  makes  them  hate  each  other

take  care  -  someone  who  looks  after  her  when  she  drinks  to  much   !!!   someone  who  keeps  her  out  of  trouble  when  she’s  under  the  influence.  she  would  probably  feel  extremely  weird  like  when  she’s  sober  bc  someone  taking  care  of  her  ???  feels  fake  2  her

confidant  -  someone  who  confides  in  her  or  someone  she  confides  in,  or  they  confide  in  each  other.  they  don’t  necessarily  have  to  be  the  closest  friends  ever,  but  they  get  along  and  maybe  they  talk  more  in  private

rivals  -  they  don’t  like  each  other  for  whatever  reason,  which  we  can  plot. maybe  it’s  jealousy  or  their  personalities  just  clash,  but  for  whatever  reason  they  do  not  get  along

frenemies  -  they’re  great  friends  to  each  other’s  faces,  but  when  they’re  not  around  each  other,  they  act  questionably

bad  influence  -  someone  she  is  a  bad  influence  on.  maybe  she’s  manipulating  them,  or  just  encourages  them  to  do  bad  things  and  they  listen  to  her  for  whatever  reason

that’s  everything  !!!  i’m  soooo  sorry  this  got  a  lil  lengthy,  it  wasn’t  my  intention  but  also  idk  how  2  shut  up  AJKDSHDJH  anyway  i’m  so  excited  to  plot  with  u  all  and  start  interacting,  so  hit  me  up  on  discord  or  im’s  or  i’ll  come  to  u  <3

[lukes-writing]

Character Introduction: Whisper Johanna Archer-Gutenberg

Project: The Dreamcatcher series Name: Whisper Johanna Archer-Gutenberg Age: 19 Height: 161 cm (5″ 3,4′) MBTI: ENFP

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Appearance

Whisper is a slight girl of average height with fair skin and flat chest which is sometimes a target of mockery. She has dreamy, faraway hazel eyes and a winsome, mysterious smile; the combination of these traits lends her a slightly otherworldly, uncanny appearance. Apart from her face, her most prominent feature is her fair hair tied into long dreadlocks.

Whisper's style of clothing is as eccentric as her hairstyle and personality. She usually dresses in loose-fitting clothes of bright colors and floral patterns including long skirts, sundresses and airy blouses. She feels the best walking barefoot.

Whisper also wears excessive, flashy jewelry and plentiful of talismans, magical amulets and lucky charms. She has also several tattoos, the most prominent being a large dreamcatcher on her upper back. Due to her eccentric appearance and style of dressing, she's nicknamed "the hippie girl" by her friends and she doesn't mind it

Personality

Whisper is a difficult person to understand. Even though she's generally kind, caring and positive person, it takes a careful, delicate approach to reach into her comfort zone and gain her trust. She is whimsical, even erratic, and nobody knows what's going on in her mind at the moment. That makes her difficult to lead and control, even though her spontaneous and impulsive behavior can offer a solution to many challenging situations.

She is generally an extroverted person who enjoys company, but like most aspects of her personality, her temperament is a subject of frequent changes. She enjoys time alone, spent by relaxing, meditation or long walks. She is the happiest when she's at peace with herself and the world and values all kinds of harmony.

Whisper is also very sincere about her feelings and is not hesitant to express them, no matter how harsh it may sound. She is also open about which people she dislikes and tends to avoid them at all costs, even if it means getting into more conflicts which is frequent because of her stubbornness and quirky nature. On the other hand, when she gets on well with someone, she quickly becomes attached and makes a great friend.

Even though Whisper seems timid at first, she is open about nudity and sexuality, claiming it's a natural part of life. On the contrary, she strictly condemns any kind of intolerance, hate, bigotry or unnecessary violence. Her opinions are liberal and she has trouble accepting authority, especially when the person is trying to assert their dominance using force.

She abstains from alcohol, but rather frequently smokes marijuana which helps her unwind and focus. She claims it also enhances her ability of astral traveling. She is open to experimentation of all kinds, but she's also rational enough to not let it go too far.

Skills, talents and weaknesses

While Sienna is the team's most valuable member when it comes to logical thinking and far-sighted decisions, Whisper is appreciated for her intuition and creative approach to problems. She always follows the voice of her feelings rather than cold logic which can end up with various results.

Whisper is artistically gifted - she is able to paint, compose poems and play several musical instruments, which takes a toll on her practical abilities such as the knowledge of technology or the ability to do manual work. Since she is usually lost in her thoughts, she's also forgetful and scatterbrained.

Another of Whisper's strengths is her empathy and ability to understand people. She can see the person's true nature and intentions just by spending a few minutes with them. She's extremely sensitive to body language and can perceive the person's aura to some degree, making her an efficient lie detector.

Whisper's greatest weakness is the lack of physical strength. She's not proficient in any kind of martial art and neither can she handle a firearm or a weapon. This is partially caused by her strictly pacifistic nature and also by her slight, delicate frame not suited for physical combat. Moreover, in stressful situations, she often tends to panic and rushes into stupid decisions. That's why she usually counts on her battle-skilled teammates when it's going tough.

Special powers

Whisper's special power is astral traveling, an ability to detach her soul from her body and travel through the astral realm. This allows her to travel unseen to dangerous or restricted areas without the risk of getting hurt. During the detach, the body and soul are connected by a silver astral rope called a "Lifeline" by the travelers.

Her ability requires years of training in the form of meditation and relaxation techniques and has several levels of mastery:

Out of Body - the traveler can detach their soul from their body and roam the astral realm;

Out of Space - the traveler's soul isn't affected by space, allowing them to immediately transfer the soul to any place in the world;

Out of Time - while traveling, the traveler's soul is unaffected by time, able to change the subjective perception of it.

The ability also has several drawbacks. The most obvious one is that Whisper's physical body is unconscious when her astral body is detached. That requires her to either perform the detach on a safe, isolated place or to have someone to look after the senseless body and protect it from harm. Also, to perform the detach, Whisper has to remain relaxed and focused for a while, making it hard to detach in the middle of the fray. Another danger are the immaterial astral beings known as "Hunters" which possess a potential threat to the detached soul.

Her abilities allow Whisper to serve as an efficient spy since physical boundaries don't affect the detached soul. Also, while on the Out of Space level, she can immediately contact any other person able to tap into the astral realm anywhere in the world.

Questions

Favorite color? Green

Favourite artist? 

Favourite animal? Dog

Least favourite animal? Toads (because they’re slimy)

What element would they be? Wind

Theme song? Waiting on the Sky to Change by Downplay

Alignment? Chaotic Good

Deadly sin that best represents them? Lust

Which animal would they be? A swallow bird

Socioeconomic level? Comes from a rich family, but money doesn’t mean much to her

Hobbies? Reading, poetry, music, walks in nature

Patience level? Variable, according to her current mood

Favourite place? Anywhere green and calm

Role model? Her uncle Wiccan Salisbury

Favourite foods? Grilled salmon with vegetables, sushi

Favourite book? The Harry Potter series

Pets? Four budgies (Godric, Rowenna, Helga, Salazar) and three dogs (Arwen, Frodo, Gandalf)

Most appropriate TV trope(s)? “Granola Girl”, “Does Not Like Shoes”, “Cloudcuckoolander”

Smells like? Spring air and a soft perfume

How do they feel about love? She believes in true love and soulmates, but her urge to seek variety and new things in life makes her doubt she would be able to stay with just one person for the rest of her life

Quote/catchphrase: She sometimes tends to replace profanity in a sentence with some more innocent word, creating expressions like “What the twig is going on here?”

Least favorite color? Gray

Fears or phobias? She suffers from mild claustrophobia; being in a closed, isolated room makes her anxious

Music they listen to? Ambient music, soft rock

Bad habits? She occasionally smokes marijuana

What turns them on? Quiet, affectionate talk, soft touches, neck kisses

What turns them off? Roughness, insensitivity

Religious and to what extent? Any spiritual beliefs? She firmly believes in some kind of higher power, but is not a part of any organized religious movement

Kind of student if they attend/were to attend school? (e.g. class clown, straight A) Her grades varied greatly according to the subject and her current mood. She wasn’t too eager to study as she preferred to groom her artistic side.

Random fact!

What ONE item would they take to an uninhabited island? A notebook to write down all kinds of ideas she would come up with

Outlook on life? Always positive, “happy accidents” outlook

Favorite object? Her decorative brooch shaped like a key with wings - she considers it her lucky charm

What was your character like as a child? She tried to be well-behaved to her parents’ image, but her erratic, moody personality sometimes caused discords

What is something other people assume about your character? Judging from her look, the people can guess her loony personality and inclination to art, but they also often assume she does drugs and/or takes sex very irresponsibly

Nervous habits? Talking to herself

Addictions? Apart from harmless addictions like tea, books and music, she has no harmful addcition

Enneagram type? 4

Siblings? Knight Edward (older brother), Liberty Camilla (older sister)

Wears jewelry? Yes, she wears a lot of excessive, flashy jewelry

First kiss? (when and with whom) When she was 18, she experienced her first kiss and first intimate experience with her best friend, Noelle

Glass half full or half empty? Half full

Belief in an afterlife? Yes

Views on gambling, lying, killing, etc...? Strictly negative. She is a person of firm morals and she hates people with questionable moral code.

Do they stand up for what they believe in? Always, firmly

How much do they value money? Not much. It can buy nice things, but it’s not the most important thing in the world.

Wants to get married? Indifferent

Wants to have kids, raise a family? Indifferent; not yet decided

Cat or dog person? Dog

Is there one fictional character (print/stage/screen) you could compare them to? She has a part of Luna Lovegood in her, but there are a lot of differences

Anyone they really hate? Bigots and hateful people

How has their look/design changed over time? Not really, I’ve always wanted her to be like this, so I created her this way. She was maybe more timid in the early stages of development.

What brings them the most joy? Being herself; people accepting her for who she is

Do they play any instruments? Violin, piano, flute

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Favorite holiday? Christmas

Nickname(s)? Often nicknamed “hippie girl”

Would they dare kill someone? Only if there was no other way to save a friend/family member in danger

Body modifications? (Piercings, implants, tattoos, etc.) She has several tattoos, with the most prominent being a large dreamcatcher on her back

Author’s Note

So this is my first character introduction (with more to come in the future), of course I’ve picked my favorite in my current project ^^ If you have any further questions for/about Whisper, or if you have any feedback about her, please send me an ask or post a comment! If you enjoy my work, you can consider a small donation at www.paypal.me/lukassladky. Thank you for stopping by!

[ninwrites]

just for the night

Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Words: 4446

Summary:

the first time alec chooses to stay the night

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written as a belated birthday present for @maryatthecomiccon ❤

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Read on AO3 or below the cut xx

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There’s sauce dripping down his fingertips, trailing across the back of his hands and, more than likely, smeared across his mouth – and yet, Magnus already counts this as one of the best dates he’s ever been on. This assessment could have a fair amount to do with the person sitting across from him, in a snug booth at the back of a cozy, hole-in-the-wall burger joint in the East Village – in fact, Magnus would lay good money on Alec’s presence being the sole reason for his increasingly exultant mood.

The whole affair has been a pleasant surprise.

Alec had called him up earlier, sounding mixed parts cautious and hopeful, to ask if he’d be free for the night. (As it so turned out, he wasn’t, but it only took a quick fire message to clear up his evening and rearrange his ‘meeting’ with Raphael to another night.) Alec had set the time, and Magnus had arranged the place, remembering Alec’s offhanded comment after the fateful fatty tuna night in Tokyo; a simple, casual night out seemed the perfect sequential date, and truthfully, Magnus wanted something a little more intimate, a little more - them.

As of yet, it’s been the best decision he’s made all evening - the music is an inviting mix of jazz and pop, the food is perfectly greasy and simple without compromising on taste, and the atmosphere is alluring and warm - yet it is above all the company that has made the evening a delight.

“I kind of don’t want this night to end,” Alec admits, with slick fingertips wrapped in paper-thin napkins and a smile that’s only saucy in the condiment sense.

“Time is a fickle thing, for warlocks.” Magnus bends the straw of his soda, watching the crinkles form in the striped red-and-white plastic, toeing the line between honesty and reservation. “Yet I find myself inexplicably wishing for the same.”

Alec frowns, the corner of his mouth twisted down in thought. It’s an opening, though he doesn’t realise it, because dating is still a grand and confusing new landscape for him, and he’s too honest to lace his words with unspoken meanings - anything he says, he means, with the utmost sincerity.

Magnus isn’t above lying, let alone to Shadowhunters - and least of all for the purposes of survival - but there’s something about Alec, about his steadfast, if sometimes misaligned sense of morality that makes Magnus want to be honest, to tell Alec how he feels with only the slightest reservation that it might be overwhelming.  

“We could have nightcaps, at my loft.” Magnus suggests, scrunching the wrapper of the straw in his other hand, already anticipating Alec’s gentle refusal, a sympathetic but firm “I really should be getting back to the Institute” .

“I’d like that,” Alec replies, instead, another surprise, though one that Magnus probably should have expected, considering all the ways that Alec has surprised him before. His eyes are lit with an undefinable glint that Magnus would dare to call coy, if Alec were the type, although there is something undoubtedly flirtatious about the way he reaches across the table, his fingers tracing an idle pattern against the back of Magnus’ hand.

“Lead the way.”

There’s an effortless solace to Magnus’ loft that Alec has never quite felt anywhere else - he hasn’t spent a lot of time here, all things considered, and yet there’s a sense of comfort that settles over him as soon as he’s stepped out of the portal Magnus conjured, a warmth that seeps slowly into his bones, as though the loft is welcoming him in.

As though, inexplicably, it knows more than they do.

“Would you like a drink?” Magnus asks, waving his hand towards the drinks cart, almost forgetting that the other was still wrapped around Alec’s.

“Just water would be nice, please.” Alec can feel his cheeks growing pink. “I think I’ve hit my limit of drinks for the night.”

He’s not drunk - he’s only been drunk once, and he’d hated every second of it - but he’s teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and he doesn’t want to be, he doesn’t want anything to influence this night, or his perception of it. It may just be a date, but it’s a date with Magnus, and there’s still a heady dose of novelty to it all that he hopes never wanes.

“There are many jokes here about Shadowhunters and lightweights,” Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand. “But I’ll refrain from making them this time.”

Alec laughs, a bubbling sound that comes from nowhere and everywhere all at once. “That’s very kind of you.”

Magnus, preens, his skin taking on a particularly bright glow . “I am but a simple man of honour.”

“That sounds like a little bit of an understatement,” Alec admits. “Simple has never been a word I’ve associated with you - not to say that is a bad thing! It’s not, of course, you’re amazing, I just meant-”

Magnus lifts their joined hands, brushing a kiss against the back of Alec’s hand. “I think I know what you mean, Alexander. Thank you.”

The corner of Alec’s mouth tugs up in a half-smile, the tips of his ears burning red. Magnus leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Alec’s bright cheek. “I’ll get the drinks - we can sit on the couch, if you’d like, or the balcony, it’s quite a lovely night.”

Alec glances to the couch, where he’d shared his energy with Magnus, where he’d first held him, where he’d spent the night sprawled along the cushions because Magnus had insisted that the Institute was too far and Alec hadn’t been able to find a good reason to counter otherwise.

“The couch is fine,” He says, which is to say, a lot of good things have happened there, and part of him is hoping more good things will follow.

Magnus just smiles, as though he knows something that Alec doesn’t, or perhaps is just amused at Alec’s attempts to play off his decision as something casual, and turns towards the drinks cart. He tinkers there for awhile, and Alec sinks into the couch, contemplating why it’s so peculiar to him that Magnus would make their drinks by hand - he’s not so naive as to believe that warlocks, or indeed Magnus himself, are so dependent on magic as to be wholly incompetent without the use of it.

Maybe it’s just a matter of curiosity - Alec can’t deny that if he had the power at his fingertips that Magnus does, he probably wouldn’t do a lot without it.

Magnus returns a moment later, a glass of ice water for Alec and a dry martini for himself. Alec takes his glass with a grateful smile, focusing on the condensation against his fingertips and not the bristling electricity that sparks where Magnus’ knee touches his own.

“Magnus,” Alec rests his glass against his leg. “Can I ask you a question?”

Magnus inclines his head, taking a delicate sip from his glass. “Of course.”

“This might be really dumb, but - why, don’t you use magic for everything? Isn’t it … easier?”

The ghost of a smile hovers as Magnus ruminates Alec’s question. He traces his pinky finger around the rim of his glass, letting errand sparks cascade around the edges. “In some ways, I suppose. I’ve always believed that hard work would get me further than my magic could, and I doubt I would have reached the potential that I have without a healthy balance of both.”

He makes eye contact with Alec, resting his shoulder against the back of the couch. “The day that Luke was brought in, writhing in agony on this very couch, I had to borrow your energy to help heal him. If I had squandered that energy on something as simple as stirring sugar into my coffee or making my bed, then I wouldn’t have been able to heal Luke as quickly. That isn’t to say that I don’t use my magic on terribly mundane things, but I try not to get into the habit of doing everything with magic.”

Alec hums. “I never thought about it that way before - I always thought, if I had magic, I’d just … use it for everything.”

“Most young warlocks think that way,” Magnus acknowledges. “However, after a few centuries it becomes a little unrealistic to maintain. Of course, everyone has their weaknesses - I have quite the unfortunate penchant for summoning things that I need, often without a second thought.”

Alec bumps his shoulder against Magnus’. “I can’t say that I blame you. And anybody who does is probably just jealous that they can’t do the same.”

“You have a very refreshing outlook on the world, Alexander.” Magnus raises his glass, and after a belated second, Alec lifts his own, a light clink echoing after they touch. “I only wish that more people considered things the way that you do.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever been told that before,” Alec replies. It sounds like a compliment, judging by the warmth of Magnus’ tone and the way his gaze is lit up.

Magnus smiles, and it’s like everything around them just, stops. “The world seems truly magnificent through your eyes - I’m jaded, but you … you have so much hope.”

“I never really, used to.” Alec confesses, toying with the condensation of his glass.”Before, I met you. Now, though - I never thought I’d come out. But I did, thanks to your encouragement, and support, and it’s given me hope, because if I can do the impossible, if I can be an out and proud gay Shadowhunter … there isn’t really anything I can’t do.”

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, sounding both parts bittersweet and awestruck, before surging forward, managing to spell their drinks onto the table before drawing Alec into a deep kiss that sends sparks down Alec’s spine and makes his toes curl in his boots.

“You’re incredible,” Magnus gushes, pulling back only far enough for him to look Alec in the eye, his hands grasping either side of Alec’s face. “I don’t know if I’ve told you that, before, but you are.”

Alec wraps his hands around Magnus’ upper arms, fingers curled tight in the fabric of his silk shirt. “Ditto,” He breathes out - it’s not the word he wants to say, but the sentiment remains the same, and he finds it hard to regret anything when it makes Magnus giggle .

It’s a sound he’d do anything to hear again - to hear Magnus sounding so light and carefree and young.

He leans in, slowly, tracking the way Magnus’ gaze falls to his lips and then shoots back up, the way Magnus subconsciously licks his bottom lip even as his eyes bore into Alec’s, the way the air between them seems to crackle with potential even as the distance shortens, until Alec’s lips are folding gently against Magnus’, slow and attentive. He’s still learning, how to make a moment last what feels like forever, how to make Magnus’ eyes flutter shut, how to make him feel as wonderfully on-edge as he does Alec.

Alec might be new, to this, to relationships, to Magnus, but he’s always been told that he’s a quick learner, and he’s very invested in kissing Magnus until the rest of the world falls away, because nothing matters in a moment like that as much as the wonders of the man before him.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, as Alec tracks soft pecks along the length of his jaw, curious about the bristle of stubble along the underside and the shadow of cologne drifting across his neck. Magnus’ hands have fallen to Alec’s shoulders, wound around his neck like a lifeline, and his back arcs forward when Alec scrapes the barest hint of teeth beneath his ear, because it feels right, and he wants to.

There’s still a lot of exhilaration to be found from doing things purely because he wants to.

“If I didn’t,” Magnus exhales a low breath, which trickles against Alec’s cheek and into the outer shell of his ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d presume that you’re - that you’re teasing, me.”

Alec grins, just slightly, dotting a kiss to the curve of Magnus’ cheek, just below his temple. “Why would I do that?”

Magnus parts his mouth to speak, but no words come out, replaced instead by a delicate gasp that sends a shiver down Alec’s spine, even as he focuses on the spread of his hand beneath Magnus’ shirt, against his lower abdomen, heat thrumming against the center of his palm. Magnus’ fingers dig into his shoulders, but it’s far from painful, and worth it still for the gleam in his eyes when his head ducks closer to Alec’s.

“Because you’re a menace,” He whispers against the corner of Alec’s mouth. Within the blink of a second, he’s pushed Alec back onto the couch, his hands curved against Alec’s shoulders, grin a mile wide and as mischievous as it is bright.

“Luckily,” He adds, with a wink that is far less cheesy than it should be. “So am I.”

Alec’s heart thuds against his ribs, so steady and fast that it wouldn’t be a surprise to learn that Magnus can feel it - he sucks in a deep breathe, letting it exhale slowly, his attention focused solely on Magnus, his skin prickling with anticipation. Only … it seems as though they’re at something of a stalemate; Alec can’t move, for all that Magnus has him pinned to the couch, but Magnus isn’t moving, his hips hovering inches above Alec’s with a remarkable and envious strength that Alec would, on another day, have a lot of appreciation for.

“Magnus?” Alec asks, reaching up slowly to hook his fingers through the loops of Magnus’ belt. “Is everything okay?”

Magnus nods, but it’s stilted, and there’s a faraway glimmer in his eyes that betrays any confidence. “It just occurred to me,” He explains, in a low murmur, almost as though he’s speaking aloud, instead of directly to Alec. “That I never quite asked you, what you wanted from this evening. I promised drinks, but this - this is far from that.”

“I like where the evening has transpired,” Alec admits, heat creeping up his neck. “I can’t say that I expected it, when I asked if you were free, but I’m not complaining.” His hands tighten against Magnus’ hips. “Far from it.

Magnus’ lips are pursed, but he seems receptive to Alec’s assurances. “I should have asked what you wanted,” He refutes. “You’re still so new to being able to have what you want…”

Alec shrugs, as well as he can with his shoulders pushed to the arm of the couch. His instinct is to reply ‘I want you,’ but it’s a little too forward for their third date, and he’s not quite there - yet. This, this between them now, this is good. “I want to spend time with you. This seems like a pretty fun way to do it.”

Magnus hums, his thumb stroking Alec’s collarbone thoughtfully. “It is pretty fun,”

Alec grins, sliding his hand up until it rests against the small of Magnus’ back, fingers pressed encouragingly to his spine. “I’m having a blast.” He comments, delighted to find even as he says it that it’s true, not an exaggeration but the whole, effortless truth.

Magnus must see it, the glow that’s residing in his chest or something deeper than that, because a sense of serenity settles in his expression, and then he’s slowly lowering his hips until they’re parallel to Alec’s, until the buckle of his belt is pressing into his stomach, his head bowed over Alec’s.

Magnus looks beautiful, all sharp angles and bright eyes, and Alec is struck with the sinking reminder that he’ll have to leave soon, because the world is wider than just the bubble they’ve built around themselves, and time doesn’t actually stop when they’re together, even if it feels like it should.

“I have to get back to the Institute,” Alec whispers, not making any effort to move.

Magnus frowns. “Oh.”

“But,” Alec’s heart sticks in his throat. “I don’t want to.”

Before the night of one-too-many-cocktails, Alec had never spent the night away from the Institute - there had been trips to Idris where he’d stayed in the Lightwood family guest house, but he doubts that counts … not like this does.

This is an active step away from the Institute - and yet, he doesn’t feel that scared. Magnus makes him feel safe, and welcome, and he encourages Alec to go after things that he wants, where he otherwise wouldn’t have let himself.

There’s a part of him, increasing in its volume, that wants to know what spending the night at the loft would feel like, that wants to find out how (undoubtedly adorable) Magnus looks once he’s just woken up, what it’s like to wake up to such a presence, to warmth and affection instead of the cold grey walls of his bedroom at the Institute.

Providing, of course, that Magnus wants the same.

“Well, you could always,” Magnus nips at his bottom lip, appearing uncharacteristically shy, “Stay here tonight?”

This is, Alec realises, as big a step for Magnus as it his for himself - his experience with relationships does little to support the firsts of a new one.

“We wouldn’t have to do anything, of course.” Magnus is quick to reassure. “Just sleep.”

Alec traces an idle pattern against the silk of Magnus’ shirt, thinking of how they’d found themselves here, with Magnus’ weight pressing gently against his body, and the ghost of his kiss against Alec’s lips. How intoxicating being this close to Magnus, with no reservations, or responsibilities, nothing stopping him from having fun.

“I don’t know, I, uh … I quite liked what we were doing before?” Alec comments, his neck burning as heat flushes his skin, his confidence better with actions than words. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, more of … that.”

Magnus smiles, slightly, though there’s still some hesitance at the edges. “Is that a yes, then? To staying the night?”

Alec nods, curling his hands in the fabric of Magnus’ shirt. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.” He admits, leaning up to draw Magnus into a deep kiss, because he wants to, and he can, and he’s still not over the thrill that he’s allowed this.

It all feels like an impossibly wonderful dream, and if Alec is to wake up to find that it’s all been pretend, at least he’ll be able to say that he made the most out of it whilst he could.

Magnus is wearing a headband, one of those thin wiry ones with the metal teeth that Isabelle used to scrape across her skull when she was first experimenting with makeup, and all that Alec can think is how uncomfortable it must be.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” He blurts out, because he’s never been able to stop himself from asking dumb questions where Magnus is around - it doesn’t help that Magnus is always so eager to answer even the most ridiculous query.

Magnus frowns, looking at Alec through the reflection of his vanity mirror. He’d insisted that Alec get into bed first, promising not to take too long, which had admittedly involved a little bit of Alec staring at the mountains of pillows and the gold of the bedsheets trying not to be too intimidated whilst also figuring out how to get under them without messing them up too much.

(Magnus had kindly stifled an amused grin and waved his hand, so that the sheets pulled themselves back, leaving a space for Alec to slip in without feeling as though he’s going to ruin Magnus’ pristine set-up.)

Alec had shifted until he was leaning against the headboard, and he hasn't moved since, hands folded in his lap as his mind tries to wrap itself around the knowledge that he is in Magnus Bane’s bed, in another man’s bed, entirely of his own volition, because he fucking can .

There’s a chance that Alec may not end up falling asleep tonight, and he’s perfectly happy with that.

“Does taking my makeup off, hurt?” Magnus asks, for clarification.

Alec shakes his head, his hand smoothing flatly over the bedsheets. “No - I know that, it’s not supposed to, if done properly and everything ... Iz told me that a while ago. I meant,” He taps his temple. “The headband? It looks painful…”

Magnus touches his fingertips to his own temple. “I suppose it used to, when they were first invented, they were a little more like accidental torture devices, but that’s the beauty of time - it provides the chance for improvement. Of course, there are other kinds of headbands, but I prefer the toothed ones, personally, it does a better job of holding my hair away from my face.”

Alec nods, because he understands the theory, even if he can’t imagine practicing it himself. “Can I ask you another question?”

Magnus smiles warmly, folding a clean white cloth while making contact with Alec through the mirror. “You can ask as few or as many questions as you’d like. I’ll do my best to answer them, within reason of course - I may pretend to be omnipotent at times, but I am afraid that I don’t actually know everything.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell anyone,” Alec assures him, sinking back slightly into the pillows behind him. "Best that everyone believes you're truly indomitable."

Magnus swipes the cloth across his forehead. “That’s very kind of you, Alexander. A true gentleman.”

Alec watches Magnus as he continues to take his makeup off, as the mask falls off to reveal something tender and sweet underneath, yet no less powerful. He sits at the vanity, clad in a midnight blue robe with white stars dotted across the fabric, his shoulders pulling firm at the constellations - he’s so elegant, and poised, and he’s letting Alec in, letting Alec see him, unguarded and open.

“Have you always worn makeup?” Alec asks, because he’s never been good at being anything but blunt, and his curiosity often wins out over any hope of subtlety.

Fortunately, Magnus appears to take the comment in stride, idly swiping the makeup cloth along his jaw. “Not at all. Actually, it’s only been the last hundred years or so, I believe. I dabbled in cosmetics throughout the nineteenth century, as was the style of those decades but I didn’t adapt it as a practice for myself until considerably recently. The eighties I recall brought in a lot of encouragement for alternative styles, and I’d long since gotten tired of pretending to be somebody else just to fit in - I've found, that the only way to truly live is for oneself, and not others.”

Alec knows all too well how damaging living by the rules of others can be - he’s still learning how to put himself first, without considering the opinions of others around him, because his business isn’t theirs.

“It’s a slow process,” Magnus turns, glancing at Alec over his shoulder - it must be a strain, Alec thinks, despite Magnus showing little discomfort at the position. “Figuring out who you are, who you want to be, what makes you truly happy - it isn’t easy. And none of your expectations are bound to come completely true, which is as terrifying as it is amazing. There's so much potential to be found when nothing is set in stone. ”

Alec slumps slightly, his thumb pressing against the veins of his wrist, because it’s easier for him to focus on the pressure against his skin than the way Magnus makes him feel, somewhere between safe and alarmingly vulnerable.

“I gave up on being truly happy a long time ago,” He admits, hating how small he sounds. “I never thought I would be able to get what I wanted, so it seemed … ridiculous, to hope. It was a waste of time that I could better spend on my siblings, to make sure that they never had to feel the way I did.”

There’s a scattered tinkling sound, and then Magnus is standing up from his vanity and Alec isn’t sure if it’s a good thing, or if he’s just accidentally interrupted Magnus’ routine with his sob story.

“Alexander,” Magnus kneels on the edge of the bed, reaching out to squeeze Alec’s hands. “Your love for others is beyond admirable, but surely you have to know that you deserve to be happy, too?”

Alec lets the warmth of Magnus’ hands seep into his own, taking comfort in the simple touch. “I’m starting to figure that out. You … you’ve helped with that, a lot. I never expected to choose myself over my responsibility to my parents, to the Clave, but I have - and I don’t regret a thing.”

Magnus’ smile itself would be worth the impromptu cancellation of Alec’s wedding. “I can’t say that I could ever have imagined dating a Shadowhunter - let alone ending up with one in my bed,” He winks, cheesily, and laughter bubbles up into Alec’s throat. “However, I find myself quite pleased with this turn of events.”

Alec grins, unable to help himself. “Yeah, me too.”

In the morning, Alec will wake up with Magnus’ arm wrapped around his waist, and for a second, he will panic - for all that is unknown and new and for how amazing it feels - and then, a second later, he’ll relax into the touch and the feeling of security it brings. Not long afterwards, Magnus will stir, pressing soft kisses to the back of Alec’s neck, struck by the wonder of the universe and how kind it has been in bringing someone as beautiful as Alec Lightwood into his life.

They’ll share Belgian waffles out on the balcony, and Magnus will drink his coffee black with too many sugars because he doesn’t have the heart to tell Alec that he prefers lattes, not after he’d gone to the effort of struggling with the coffee machine that Magnus had surreptitiously brought in after their second date, just in case. Alec will ignore three calls - two from Jace, and one from Isabelle - in favour of spending a few minutes more with Magnus before he has no choice but to return to the real world, and Magnus will recount the only-slightly-exaggerated story of the time he accidentally stole a boat to impress a date, embellishing a few impossible details to see Alec laugh, carefree and unbound.

Alec will linger by the front door, waving off Magnus’ offer of portalling him back, and Magnus will kiss him goodbye seven times, until Alec’s phone is vibrating so much it sounds like it’s going to explode.

It will be their first morning together - but it will be far from their last.

[enkindl3d]

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name -  Johnny Hart Eye colour - Deep chocolate brown Hair style / colour - Currently a dark shade of brown since he's had it dyed blonde (then red, pink... then half pink and half blonde) for a couple of months. Since he’s started an internship at a law firm, he wanted to look mature and professional but knowing Jo, he will dye it back to blonde soon. Height -  178cm  Clothing style - His clothing style varies depending on his mood. When he’s in class for lectures that just seem to go on and on, he tends to wear large hoodies and jeans (sometimes tracksuits) to be comfortable. Other times, he will go for that edgy look with his dark jeans, turtleneck or dress shirts where he rolls up his sleeves to show off the growing sleeve tattoo. When he is feeling like showing off (now that his confidence has grown), he would pair his ripped jeans with fishnets underneath y’know. Then when he goes for his internship, you will find him in a nice suit complete with a skinny tie, kinda like a young Korean Mike Ross from Suits.  Best physical feature: Many say his smile and others have commented that it’s his eyes.

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

Fears -  Fire. Without a doubt considering his past. A small flame, sure that’s alright. Bonfires? His anxiety will be off the roof. Fireworks and any loud explosions too? Please keep that away from him.  Guilty pleasure -  Musicals. Mamamia? Hamilton? Hairspray? Grease? High School Musical and Camp Rock? Oh the boy knows it all and will sing the entire soundtrack if you ever asked him.  Biggest pet peeve -  Johnny’s not a picky or easily irritated but one thing that does get him a little on edge is when people know he is concentrating and busy doing anything yet they still come to bother him. Although there may be some who are an exception to this. Another would be people on the phone to someone but they are yelling or have their voices tuned to loud like there is no need to raise your voice I’m pretty sure the person can hear you perfectly.  Ambitions for the future -  Becoming a top tier criminal lawyer and marrying his his future love of his life and maybe having a family of his own where he can give his kids the best life possible that he didn’t receive himself. 

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

First thoughts upon waking up: Most often he would think about what the consequences would be if he closes his eyes for 10 minutes.  What you think about most: Johnny thinks about his future A LOT. Not just the far future but the next day. He has this constant fear that something will go tits up and he wouldn’t know what to do about it. He overthinks so much that there are times he has made himself think it’s true.  What you think about before bed: He thinks back to the things that happened on the day, thinking about what will happen if he did this instead or if he said this differently. He will go through different scenarios to what already happened which is not so good cause he will then hate himself for not going another way.  What your best quality is - I believe it’s the way he will go out to do something without hesitation. If he wants something, he will do everything to the nines to get it. He is so well driven and goal-orientated. He will work for it even if it may take quite a while. Look at him now, he is in law school. That is something that a younger Johnny wouldn’t have dreamed of but then something clicked in him and declared he wants to be a good lawyer and he went on and enrolled despite worries that he might not be good enough. I’m a proud mama.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER ?

Single or group dates -  He doesn’t mind either one but of course he would prefer single dates to happen more because he wants one on one alone time with the person he likes. Group dates can happen when a relationship or connection has been established and they’re comfortable enough to be open to spending time with friends.  To be loved or respected -  For him, love and respect are a packaged deal. How can you be loved when you’re not respected? It doesn’t make sense to him. He wants both.  Beauty or brains -  A balance but he does believe that beauty eventually fades and beauty may deceive on the most part so he would go for brains. He likes to hear peoples thoughts and opinions, how their mind works and their intellect.  Dogs or cats -  Dogs. He loves cats but dogs are his main. He adores them. 

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU …

Lie -  He does. Everyone does.  Believe in yourself -  Before he didn’t. He never did. But as time went on, slowly he began to with so much encouragement from the people who is in his life. He will still doubt but he’s grown to push those doubts away.  Believe in love -  Yes. Despite the bad things, he still believed in love. Want someone -  Always.

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

Been on stage:  A while back when he used to do dance. Does being in a court room count as a being on stage? Cause he’s often there.  Done drugs:  Oh yeah but not the hard drugs, never. Just a couple of times where he got high but not anymore (he gets drug tested now due to his internship)  Changed who you were to fit in: Definitely. When he was young, yes. He did everything to fit in as such as possible but now he has voice his voice, his style. He found himself finally.  

LAYER SEVEN : FAVORITES

Favourite color -  Yellow.  Favourite animal -  Otters. Take him to a zoo and he will make a beeline straight to where the otters are.  Favourite movie -  The Hobbit movies and LOTR.  favourite game -  Tekken. He will sit hours on end playing. 

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

Day your next birthday will be -  Saturday 1st September How old will you be -  He will be 22  Age you lost your virginity -  I never thought about this before but let’s say he lost his age around 18/19?  Does age matter -  It doesn’t just as long as it’ not underage of course. Though he does have a limit. He can date anyone who is three years younger or three years older but nothing more nothing less. 

LAYER NINE : IN A PERSON

Best personality - He loves those who he can hold a proper conversation with. Someone who is full of life and dreams. Humour is a big thing for him too. Make him laugh, he is yours. A person who brings warmth and a sense of comfort and belonging. People who do not judge and is open to what life offers.  Best eye colour -  He has no preferences but he’s always been fascinated with people with green eyes. It’s not a common eye colour anymore and in a way, he’s captivated by them.  Best hair colour -  He doesn’t mind.  Best thing to do with a partner - Being intimate with them. Not just in bed but the simple things like pecks on the cheek, holding hands, cuddling here and there. Another is going on dates, planned or unplanned. Just spending time with them and locking out the entire world and just focusing on each other. 

LAYER TEN : FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love - life currently, his dog taco, his friends I feel -  content. I hide -  my emotions pretty well.  I miss -  my sister. I wish -  I could see her again.

Tagged by: @intergalacticxmisfits ((Thank you lovely <3) Tagging: @epigrvm @minxygi @izbrane (( i’ve only just been back so i don’t have many people to tag but please if you do see this, feel free to do it anyway even if you’re not tagged ^^

[burndownthehousetonight]

((This is something I’ve been thinking about doing with story driven threads of RPs. If there are NSFW parts that can be skipped over, I will post a SFW version so more people will be willing to read it! If you’d like the NSFW version of this @jack-rabbot​ RP, you can find it here!))

Complicated technology was still in it's early and most expensive stages, reserved mostly for the rich. Simpler technologies still existed with the commonfolk. Clocks, motors, plumbing and some electricity, but technology just wasn't there yet. The few specialists who worked with those technologies were always pushing the envelope, testing what they'd already done and perfecting it. But transportation was still being developed, and the best designed vehicles were kept secret from the public... or closely examined, carefully build in secret, and distributed to a few specific royals, all by a certain two tailed fox.

So when the commonfolk saw some kind of automobile speeding down the streets, everyone paid attention. Especially with the royal Yezek family crest on the front of the vehicle and Queen Aleena and her children looking out the windows.

"Your Majesty, something appears to have come up." The wolf had been waiting outside the meeting hall for a while, impatient to speak to the king. "The royal family of Mobotropolis arrived in the automobile. They want to speak to you immediately, they've been escorted to the throne room."

Jack didn’t bother with most of the technology that was being developed in secret. The most he had was the limbs that kept him up and walking. The rabbit was doing his best to keep up his look of being stern with keeping the marriage between him and princess Sally either on hold or cancelling it all together if he could ,but unfortunately it was all a facade. He was quite nervous of what this investigation would bring to light if anything was found at all, who had committed the crime and why? Was it someone close to Jack’s family? Was it a plan to coup? An act of revenge maybe, a plot from a different kingdom to swoop in and take control when the royal family was slain?

Jack had no clue and with each passing day he was slowly becoming more and more nervous of himself breaking the facade he had been trying to hold onto. After the latest meeting Jack saw the waiting wolf and listened to what he had to say. Manic’s family? What were they here for? Jack nodded as he walked with the wolf to the throne room. “Have they said why they wanted to speak with meh?” "They said it's top secret," the wolf informed him, "and that it's necessary for the safety of both your kingdoms." The entrance to the throne room normally had one or two guards, depending on the time of day. Not so much with the royal family there, bumping that number all the way up to six guards. Two of Jacks, four from the royal family. The nodded for the king, silently and ominously opening the door for the king, and no one else. The wolf was held back, so much so he wasn't allowed to look into the throne room. The queen made her stance clear. She sat firmly in the king's rightful throne, her gaze quietly judging the young king as her three children stood to her side and said nothing. Sonia and Sonic looked mildly uncomfortable being there. Manic did not. His arms were crossed, his head held low... was he trembling a little? The sight of the king gave him another jolt of fear, visible in the way he wobbled. Silently, the queen stood up and stepped forward. "Hello, your Majesty." She said, her eyes half lidded and belying anger. "Step forward, we have a lot to talk about." But the king was stopped short of the raised platform the thrones were on, and one of Aleena's thin fingers pas pointed at the ground. "Kneel." Top secret? The safety of both kingdoms? What had happened that could cause such problems? As Jack thought, him and his guard got to the throne room and with only him allowed to enter the room, the rabbit entered the throne room alone to see to the visiting royal family. He had been wearing more regal clothes since his facade had started as that helped keep his image. The clothes he chose for today was a black suit with thin white stripes with a black cape behind him, this was one of his most formal of attires and seemed to get him the most respect from his peers at least he hoped that was the case. He was slightly put off with the fact that the visiting queen was sitting on his father’s throne when she had no right to it, although he was worried about Manic as he saw his lover stand there in his current state. The other two royal children didn’t give him confidence.

Jack listened to the queen and while her look did slightly unnerve him he did his best to stay composed. It was when he was stopped and the queen spoke again did he feel more then just put off with her actions of late, kneel? Did she seriously ask him the king to kneel before her while in his kingdom, while his throne room while sitting on a throne that does not belong to her? Jack was not one to be quick to anger but like everyone he had limits, he kept himself for Manic’s sake before speaking.

“With all due respect Queen Aleena, ah believe proper protocol dictates that it is the visiting royals that must bow to king not the other way around. Ah assume yeh'r trip must’ve been tiring, ah hope mah father’s throne was comfortable for yeh but ah must politely ask yeh refrain from sitting on a throne that does not belong to yeh. Now may ah ask what is this top secret that threatens our kingdoms?” Jack asked doing his best to stay civil for Manic while also slightly showing his distaste for the queen’s choice of words and actions so far. "Interesting." Aleena pretended to be in thought, not backing down from her firm stance on the pedestal the thrones sat on. "Your throne is private property? I should've assumed. Royalty should be given some kind of privacy and respect. After all," She glared down at Jack, her height over him only increased by her position. "It would be horrible for any king to disrespect another monarch's wishes." She stepped forward. "You understand that homosexuality is widely hated in most every kingdom. Every romance through my court has to go through me to make sure it wouldn't stir any international incidents, and you've stepped far beyond that. I understand you've been seeing Manic for two months now? Sneaking out after dark and doing whatever you do?" Another step, so she was uncomfortably close to the rabbit. "You've risked ruining both of our royal families with this little affair, and with how things are going now, I'm afraid keeping this secret isn't an option." The same angle, the same motion. Aleena pointed at the ground in the same way she had before. "So when I say kneel, I don't mean kneel for me. Kneel for the two countries and countless lives that are risking losing everything for what you've done." Jack felt like she was insulting him as she spoke while standing over the throne. “Well ah doubt yeh wouldn’t be too happy if ah was to visit yeh'r kingdom and then tell yeh to kneel while sitting on yeh'r throne.” The rabbit replied as he then listened to what she had to say. When she mention the taboo in question jack started to get nervous and knew why Manic was looking as he was, she found out? Ruining the royal families? There wasn’t any family left for Jack to ruin so there was only him to bear the burden, but he felt she didn’t really care as this would mostly affect her status as ruler as it would him.

Was she blackmailing him? Was she honestly using one of her children and the feelings the two had for each other to blackmail the young king just so she could keep her power and save face? What else could he do? Unfortunately not much else accept to do as she told him, as he gritted his teeth he slowly kneeled in front of her while having a very high distaste of her, if it wasn’t for Manic and his siblings who had done so much for him this conversation wouldn’t even be happening as he would’ve had her escorted out by now. The boiling blend of fear and anger the queen could see in Jack told her she pushed her luck far enough. "We've had a doctor come in to talk with Manic about some issues he's had recently with gaining weight and nausea. And as it turns out... someone has impregnated him." She said, finally cutting to the chase. "Sonia finally spilled who he was seeing, and I have no reason to doubt her." The way the queen spun flung her dress, making the move to glare straight at the now shuddering prince all the more dramatic. "Unless you've been sleeping with Scourge in private again?" "I'm not!" Manic said quietly, anger only held back by crushing fear. "I haven't slept with him in years!" "And is there anyone else who could have been the father?" His silence spoke volumes. There was no one Manic wanted to implicate for this, and by the time he had figured out a good lie, Aleena was already facing the king again. "What do you have to say, your Majesty?" Jack kept his head down as Aleena spoke. It was only when she spoke of Manic and what happened to him did his head quickly look up to the royal family, Manic’s pregnant?! When could that have happened? Jack and Manic only engaged intimate acts three times, and all those times Jack thought Manic was on those pills that stopped him from being pregnant. Back then he was still new to stuff like that and had no idea how pregnancy worked. This sudden news was quickly breaking the facade he had bringing him back to the point he was almost when he first met Manic.

Jack watched and listened as the queen spoke to Manic and so on, it was only when Aleena turned and spoke to him again that the rabbit flinched himself before speaking. “I-it was meh, ah take full responsibility for what has happened. A-ah hope ah can make up for this and earn yeh'r forgiveness.” The rabbit said, sounding and feeling defeated and depressed. Manic was the one person who made him happy and the foolish rabbit pretty much ruined his life. Jack kept his head as he stayed on his hands and knees in front of the queen and waited for her verdict. Jack was defeated, she'd gotten her confession. That was all she needed, and her power games were over. "I don't want him to stop seeing anyone if it makes him happy," Aleena started, "regardless of gender. But there's no good option here. If the public finds out any of this - that he's trans, that he's gay, that he's eloped with another royal - they'll have our heads." Her arms were held to her side. "But you are the father. I'll give you and Manic three days to put a plan together for this child. If you can't decide on a plan, I'll handle this personally. Understood?" Jack’s ears were lowered quite a bit, almost reaching the ground as he knelt and kept his head down in shame. This was the worst he’d ever felt and it was his fault this had happened, he should’ve stopped himself that night it all started, then at least Manic wouldn’t be in this mess. Although saying that, what would’ve happened to the rabbit if their meeting had never happened? Jack listened to Queen Aleena and kept his mouth shut the whole time. When she told the rabbit what to do and how long he had to do he kept his head down as he spoke. “Y-yes Queen Aleena.” A-ah understand.“ His facade broken, he was back to his timid frightened self again, it was probably the most shameful he looked with him on his knees with his head so close to the ground. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ Manic was sitting on Jack's bed, arms supporting him. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, showing off the baby bump. Before, it was possible to pass it off as weight gain. But the way it bumped out was unmistakable. "The doctor said she thinks I'm two months in," Manic said regretfully. "It must have been the night we met." When they were alone Jack was sitting on a chair opposite the bed as he looked at Manic. He was conflicted, he hated himself for what he did with Manic and he didn’t know what to do in this situation. "A-ah see, d-didn’t yeh say yeh was on pills to stop this happening?” Jack asked as he looked at Manic’s baby bump. The pills must’ve been faulty if this had happened. Manic's legs crossed in shame. "That kinda medical stuff's still kinda sketch. We don't really know what works yet, and... we can't really know 'til it's too late. Medicine never works on me, anyways." But his own emotions weren't his concern. "Angel, babe, she's just- she didn't realize what this meant, but goddamn. Don't let her scare you. Everyone fucked up here, you aren't alone. I should've... Should've stopped this that morning." He was already up, helping Jack out of the chair by his hands. "C'mon, let's go to the balcony, get some air. It'll help." He quickly did up his shirt buttons again, covering the bump enough to hide it's true nature. The midday summer air was warm and fresh, cool breezes relaxing them as they worried about absolutely everything. "I don't even know where to start," Manic said. "Mom said I'm too far in to terminate this, I've gotta take it to term. What the hell are we gonna do?" "A-ah see, it wasn’t yeh'r fault Manic.” Jack replied as he looked at Manic crossing his legs. If it wasn’t for everything that had happened and all the negative things that would’ve come from this, Jack might’ve been less worried. He might’ve even been happy to have a child with Manic, but unfortunately with things as they were, it just couldn’t happen. Jack continued to listen to Manic speak as he sat in his chair and looked down. He didn’t deserve to be called an angel, not after what he did and what he was putting Manic through now, he blamed himself fully and would take the blame for Manic as well. With Manic’s help he was soon out of his chair and walking to the balcony as he watched Manic button his shirt to cover his bump. Although the cool breeze helped a little, it didn’t help completely. Jack had no idea how to get through this he was still worrying about Manic. “A-ah don’t know Manic, as much as I don’t want to say it we can’t keep the child, maybe someone we can trust could take it when yeh’ve had it.” "I don't know who that'd be now," Manic said. "I mean... Really, I dunno how I'm gonna stop being seen for seven months. Like, I'm used to just disappearing for a while, but that's a hell of a long time even for me." He rested his chin on his hand and his elbow on the railing of the patio. "I don't know what this is gonna mean for us, either. I know it's fun, but like..." No, that negativity wasn't going to help. "I really do care about you, man. You're a great boyfriend. I don't wanna burden you with having to deal with changing diapers and listening to screaming..." He went silent. The thought had echoed around his mind several times before, but now that Jack knew their whole story, Manic wasn't sure if it was a good idea to suggest that route. Maybe it was best if he just glossed over their name. "Hey, if the baby can't stay at my place or yours... I think I know where it could hide out. I've disappeared there whenever someone's after me for whatever reason, but it's kinda far away." He turned back to the king, doing his best to grin and pointing at the castle grounds with his thumb. "If we take my hoverboard, we can get there before sundown. You up for a little ride?" Jack listened to Manic speak and was having trouble thinking of any more ideas himself. What could they do? Manic had to carry the child to term and then what? There was no way either of them could have the child in with them without questions being asked, and who could they trust to look after the child if they had to leave the child with someone? There was no one Jack knew who would take a child in a situation like this. Jack listened to Manic speak and was happy that Manic still cared about him despite what he had done to Manic.

As he listened to Manic speak his idea, Jack looked at his lover and wondered where they could go. "Yeh do? Where can we take it?” Jack asked before Manic pointed to the grounds and spoke again. Jack wasn’t sure of this, but if Manic thought it was a good idea then he’d go with it, as he nodded to Manic and packed a few things for them for the trip. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ The outside of the foreign castle may have been behind an imposing wall, but that didn't mean the grounds themselves were imposing. Actually, the place felt warm and inviting with the few children running around in the evening air. A little orange wolf with sharp pointed teeth, a dark blue rat chasing the wolf close behind, and a little purple hedgehog with two tiny horns, none of them looking older than four years old and all wearing regal attire. Nannies of the king were standing around, letting the children play and have fun while making sure they weren't getting hurt. But they couldn't stop and watch. Manic took the lead and walked Jack into the massive castle, with royal purple decorations covering the stone floors and walls. The room was massive, full of warm lighting and elegantly carved doorways and decorations, but the tiny gargoyles scattered in the carvings gave the room an air like the prince and the king were being watched. Guards bowed at their entrance, as a fox with a black fringe greeted the two. "Hello, your highnesses," he said, not sounding like he cared in the slightest. "Why are you here?" Manic stepped forward. "We need to speak with king Scourge. Immediately." Jack wasn’t sure where he was and while he was a bit nervous seeing the imposing walls outside the castle, he couldn’t believe he was in the same place as he saw the grounds. He watched the children play as he and Manic walked into the castle. Jack wasn’t sure who owned this castle, as the only reason he was there was because of Manic saying this person might be able to help them at least take care of their child when Manic had it.

Jack looked around as the two walked through the castle and it felt a lot different then back home, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous but as long as Manic was there and he trusted whoever they were seeing, then that was enough for Jack. Hopefully this should at least make things a bit easier for them. Jack stayed quiet as they reached the guards and the fox who, while he didn’t seem to care, still asked them what they were there for.

It was only until he heard the name that Jack found out why they were here, Scourge? He was the to help them? Jack wasn’t sure if this was a good idea but he stayed close and kept his mouth shut as he didn’t really have any other choice. "The king is in the throne room, practicing loudly." He said, already turning and walking. "This way." That harsh sound they heard as they approached the throne room was unmistakable. Not many technologies were available to the public, but some were quick to find a new use for it; music. The doors were opened and there was Scourge, practicing on an electric guitar and not looking like he was taking anything seriously. "Your loudness," the fox said, almost pushing the royals in and leaving through the door, "two royal visitors have arrived." The slam of the door was followed by the sound of Scourge's guitar plomping onto the cushion of the single throne in the room. These weren't a royal's clothes, these were the leather jackets worn by street punks, just made of fancier materials. "Knew you couldn't stay away forever," Scourge said, walking up to Manic with a dangerous yet charming grin. He wrapped one arm around Manic's shoulders, and pointed one finger casually at Jack as he spoke. "Why'd you come with, Jack?"  He asked, not really knowing quite. "What, don't tell me Manic didn't come here just for me." Jack stayed close to Manic as they followed the fox to the throne room. The loud music was a bit much for the rabbit as his sensitive ears were ringing quite loudly as they got closer to the source of the noise. Was the fox honestly just pushing them in and leaving? As they were shoved in with the door slamming shut behind them, Jack was relieved when the music stopped and it was more quiet now as he watched Scourge walk up to them.

Jack wasn’t sure how to feel with how Scourge spoke and acted towards Manic, even though he knew they had been together a while ago he couldn’t help but feel a little protective of Manic as he watched Scourge wrap his arm around Manic. Now came the awkward and quite possibly risky part, Jack wasn’t sure how they were going to explain to Scourge the situation they were in. “U-um, well not exactly, we need yeh'r help king Scourge.” Jack said as he looked at the other king. "Yeah, this ain't a political thing or whatever." Manic stepped up next to Jack. They had a lot to explain. "I mean... Jack and me have kinda been together for a while. Uh..." Even Manic had to swallow out of anxiety. "He knocked me up. And I can't terminate it. I've gotta stay hidden from the public 'til it's born. I really need your help, man." The king looked on at the two, now noticing the vague bump in Manic's chest. "You sure it's Jack's kid?" He nodded. "I still don't know a lot about our relationship." He had to admit." I don't know if we're open or strict, or how we're gonna see each other when I'm trying to get this baby out, or-" And he sighed, stopping himself from prattling. "I've only been sleeping with him. I don't think he's got anyone else in his life, I don't want to cheat on him." Scourge nodded and thought, looking at Jack. He looked like he was silently looking Jack over, like he was appraising his body. It only lasted a few moments while Manic spoke, but his gaze was obvious. "That's a long stay. What are you gonna do with it when it's out? And how you planning on paying? Keeping someone for months ain't gonna be cheap for me." Jack kept quiet as Manic spoke, it was probably for the best if Manic was the one explaining to Scourge what happened between them and why they needed his help. As Manic went on Jack felt a little nervous as Scourge looked him over, he wasn’t sure if Scourge would help or not and he was kind of dreading of what might happen when they ask him to look after the child.

He hoped Manic would explain that part as well as he gulped quietly and spoke as well after Scourge said his piece. “A-ah’ll pay for Manic’s stay, how much do yeh want? Ah can send it over saying that it’s a gift of peace so there’s no hard feelings between our kingdoms from before.” Jack replied hoping that might help a little depending on Scourge’s price. "You're new to this king stuff, kid." Scourge himself wasn't a master of diplomacy, but he had years of experience still. "You wanna know something? Royal courts are assholes. All of 'em. They wanna fight with everyone who's sneezed the wrong way near their kingdom. And we've got more than that going on here. Those small fights after we got the Anarchy Beryl, you think they've forgotten those? Your court probably sees it as taking something that powerful from an 'evil ruler'. Mine see it as being robbed of some national treasure." He held one hand out to his side. "Point is, it's a chore, and a bunch of cash ain't gonna make things better. We'd want that Anarchy Beryl back before we'd make peace, and givin' out national treasures is just gonna piss off your people." There was an insecurity to Jack Scourge couldn't ignore. "I'll go easy on you, kid. Cause you're deep in shit and you know Manic." One of the rare moments of Scourge showing kindness. What would be an appropriate payment...? Money sure as hell sounded good, but Scourge was only kind to a certain point, and he was starting to get into a more greedy part of his mind. The king stepped up to Jack, maybe a bit too close, and lifted his chin with one finger. That jagged smile would be terrifying if he didn't know how to make it so charming. "Manic sure knows how to pick 'em. He said you could see other guys if you want, right?" A twist on his words, but something that was true when he was with Manic. "You ever wanna try out a different ride?" Jack felt a little down hearing Scourge’s words, it was true he was new to being king and had a lot of things to learn. After hearing what Scourge said he had no idea how he was going to pay Scourge for taking care of manic and possibly taking care of their child as well. “R-really? T-thank yeh so much king Scourge, w-what can ah do to repay yeh? A-ah’ll do anything.” The rabbit said pretty much walking himself into the situation that was about to unfold.

Jack watched and wondered as Scourge thought of how the rabbit could pay him. Jack was a little nervous but he hoped that he could pay Scourge not only for his own sake but for Manic as well. Then Scourge moved a little too close to the rabbit and Jack blushed a bit as he felt his chin being lifted by the other monarch. Jack blushed and listened to Scourge speak and when he finished his sentence Jack blushed even more, did Scourge actually ask Jack that? Did he want the rabbit to pay with his body? His face was quickly getting flustered as he looked up at the other king as he shyly spoke.

“A-ah see, I-if yeh want meh to pay like that t-then ah will, for Manic, j-just promise meh he’ll be okay while he’s here.” Jack replied, agreeing to pay scourge with sinful pleasure to make sure his beloved Manic was safe during his pregnancy. At least it was behind closed doors and only the three people in the room would know about this right? "He'll be treated real well, Kingy. Lemme show you." Scourge banged on the door three times. "Guards! Show 'em where he'll be staying, and bring Jack back. Alone." The walk through the castle certainly promised a cushy stay. This was more gothic inspired than the castle either of these two lived in, somewhat menacing like the king. But it was well maintained, clean, maids and butlers scurried about. And their trip accidentally gave Jack one more promise of good care. Visible through an open nursery door, a pink baby porcupine was sniffling in the arms of a nursemaid singing a lullaby and rocking her to calm her down. Large, well kept rooms. Helpful staff. And a promise of invisibility from the public eye. If it weren't for the cost, Manic would have been thrilled. "Hey, Jack... You don't gotta do this if you don't want to." Manic assured Jack. "I can go in there and pay for you... I mean, he's kinda a softie if you hit the right points, I can barter another deal out of him. You can sleep with whoever, but don't just sleep with him to pay for me, alright?" Golden eyes glared back at Jack's bright green. “T-thank yeh king Scourge.” Jack replied as the guards came to show the two where Manic would be staying. Jack bowed before Scourge before going with Manic. Jack looked around as they walked through the halls and while he was intimidated by the menacing look of the castle, he couldn’t help but admire the gothic themed architecture that filled the castle. Jack felt quite relived that Manic would be safe here, from the looks of the place he’d certainly be comfortable enough and to be out of the public eye was a bonus.

One more bonus was the nursery they walked past. This place was pretty much perfect for Manic to stay and have the child, seeing all this at least made the price he was going to pay not as bad as it was certainly going to be worth it. He listened to Manic speak and when his lover was finished Jack held Manic’s hands gently in his. “Manic, ah promised Scourge ah would pay his price, mah kingdom has done enough harm to his so at least he’s been willing to at least let that slide for us, ah’m not going back on this.” Jack said as he hugged Manic lovingly and held the prince close in his arms.

“Anyway, ah would pay any price for yeh Manic, ah mean this is the least ah can do for yeh since ah got yeh into this mess in the first place. Ah promise yeh mah heart and soul will always belong to yeh no matter what. If ah may ask yeh to manic, while ah’m with Scourge if yeh could think of how we’re going to tell yeh'r mother how we’re going to do this, okay?” After Jack finished speaking, he kissed Manic on the lips softly before pulling away. “Ah love yeh Manic, more then anything.” With that, he left Manic to do whatever he needed to do as he went with the guards to go back to Scourge and pay his price for keeping Manic safe. "I'll figure it out," Manic promised with a nervous smile. The guards split up. One lead Manic into the room he was to be staying in, while the other started Jack on the long walk back through the halls. There was no one for him to talk to this time around on the walk, leaving him to his thoughts. This place wasn't as sinister as it looked, right? The walk dragged on, and by the time he reached the throne room, it was as though hours had passed. "You majesty, your guest?" As soon as Jack was through, the door shut. In a moment, the door was locked behind him. No going back. Scourge had taken the time to get a little more dressy. He wore his crown, a small but hard to ignore sign of his power. He was draped in a finer dress shirt, and even had a fur-lined robe on his shoulders and draping over the throne. Even sitting casually with his legs crossed, he looked totally powerful. "Come a little closer, Jack." Scourge beckoned, waving one hand lazily to get him to move closer. Jack kept his eyes on Manic as they were spilt up as Manic was going to his room while was going back the long way back to the throne room to pay his debt. Since he had no one with him beside the guard who kept quiet the entire time they walked down the hall, Jack was indeed left to his nervous thoughts. While this place seemed frightening at first things seemed to be going well ever since they got there. Sure there was a price to pay for it but pretty much everything had a price to it these days, and honestly if all it took to keep Manic safe and sound for quite a long time with a child on the way was to pay Scourge with his body, then that was a price Jack was obviously willing to pay.

It seemed Scourge really cut Jack some slack on this it seemed to the rabbit. The other king could’ve asked for anything, riches, power, he could’ve tried and manipulated the rabbit to try and steal back his nation’s treasure, but for some reason all he wanted then and there was just Jack. It actually confused the rabbit a little, why of all things would Scourge ask for Jack as payment? Surely the other king was just being generous in a sleazy punk king kind of way, there was no way he honestly wanted Jack’s body that bad, right? Up until now Jack had always thought he was worthless, that he couldn’t do anything or be of any use for anything.

It was only until he met Manic did he have a slightly better view of himself, but not that much as the incident with Manic’s mother just reminded him what a clumsy worthless fool he was. But now Scourge, king of Moebius wanted the rabbit for himself and in doing so, Manic would be safe to carry their child without fear or worry. Once Jack was back in the throne room he flinched as the doors loudly slammed shut and locked behind him as he looked towards the king before him.

He did as he was told and made his way closer to Scourge and once reaching the king, the rabbit got on his hands and knees in front of Scourge and his throne before he spoke. “K-king Scourge, before we do this ah have to ask yeh something, why me? Out of everything yeh could’ve asked for payment yeh chose me, why? Yeh knew ah would pay pretty much anything for Manic’s sake, yeh pretty much had me in the palm of yeh'r hand and yeh chose one of the most worthless things to ask for, w-why? What am ah worth to yeh?” Jack asked doing his best not to break down while exposing his obvious fear and lack of self confidence or self worth as he looked up to the other monarch and waited for his answer. Scourge just grinned at Jack. He was even kneeling for him... This was the kind of power he wanted. "You couldn't give up that Anarchy Beryl if you wanted," Scourge told him. "What else'd I get outta you? Money? I got all the cash I need, I ain't getting your throne for this." Once again, there came a devious smile. "But you... I know a good partner when I see one. And you are fucking luscious. I knew at that bar I wanted to see what you were packing." Scourge uncrossed his legs and faced Jack directly. "Finding someone as cute as you's real hard to do," Scourge admitted, "ain't just talking looks, neither. That way you talk and walk and kneel-" He had to stop himself from droning on. "Guess I missed out on getting you all to myself, don't mean I can't take a nice juicy slice."

Fortunately or not for Jack, whatever happened behind those doors was going to stay behind closed doors.

◇        ◇        ◇        ◇

Jack was a little surprised to say the least as he wasn’t even fully aware of aftercare, except the little bit he did with Manic when they finished their nights together. Once the rabbit was cleaned and dressed in new clothes along with Scourge, he stayed close to the other king as he felt Scourge’s arm around his waist.

The rabbit blushed a little, did he say he’d let Manic stay for free? Then what was the point of paying him? Jack thought as he listened to the dominant king and blushed a little more as Scourge mentioned the next time they would be doing that together. Once his arm was off the rabbit’s waist and he showed Jack where Manic was, the shy rabbit blushed as he gently kissed Scourge’s cheek. “O-okay, t-thank yeh ever so much for taking Manic in, a-ah owe yeh so much.” Jack replied before quickly leaving after he had left a kiss on the dominant king.

Following the hall and going left out of the door like Scourge said, Jack soon found himself reunited with his beloved Manic as Jack hugged him lovingly. “H-hello manic, how are yeh feeling?” "Doing good over here," Manic told him, sitting on the edge of the sofa. "This place is gonna be perfect." The guest room Manic was staying in wasn't a guest room at all. With how large it sprawled, it was essentially a guest house! A drawing room, a bedroom, a small kitchen, a full bathroom, even a balcony. The rooms were smaller than most in the castle, but if a pregnant person was supposed to move around in there by themselves, short distances were perfect. The living room was the only room Jack had seen yet, but it promise a lot for the other rooms. Instead of the harsh colors of the castle rooms he'd seen, this was warm and delicately colored. Cozy, even. Gothic furniture was replaced instead by soft Victorian curves. Less drama, less excessive details. A small temporary home. But what was most obvious were two things; a set of drums had been wheeled into the room, yet to be set up, and Manic had changed into what looked like a maternity shirt. "This castle... they're good to their guests," Manic said vaguely, concerned about how another guest was treated. His arm was around Jack in almost the same way Scourge's had been, but it somehow felt gentler. "He... he didn't hurt you, right? You gonna be okay, man?" “That’s great to hear, ah’m glad yeh’re okay Manic.” Jack replied as he moved closer to Manic and gently kissed his cheek. Jack had a little look around the room they were in and it seemed okay to him, it wasn’t like the rest of the castle but softer and less intimidating, Jack was happy that Manic was going to be fine in the guest area Scourge was letting him stay in. It was definitely worth what he payed even though the other king admitted there wasn’t any need for payment, Jack would’ve still paid whatever needed to be paid to make sure Manic was safe and happy.

Jack did notice the drums that were brought in and hoped Manic wouldn’t be pushing himself too much during his time there and he did notice Manic’s change of clothes, he’d probably be wearing those shirts for a good time while he’s there. Jack listened to Manic speak moved a little closer as Manic wrapped his arm around the rabbit, Jack shook his head as he spoke. “N-no, he didn’t hurt meh Manic, it was a bit rough but he was quite patient with meh and was quite gentle after we finished.” Jack replied as he nuzzled Manic, the rabbit would still be sore in the morning though after his time with Scourge. "Alright, just making sure you're okay, babe." Manic sat where he was, nuzzling the rabbit. "Guess if I'm living here, I've gotta meet all of Scourge's kids, right? And figure out how I'mma do my workouts and drumming and shit with this going on..." There was a lot they would have to figure out immediately. "Let's just relax, man, you've earned it. You sneak back out tonight, tell me family that... ..." “Ah’ll be fine thank yeh Manic.” Jack replied giving Manic soft loving kisses as they nuzzled up together. “More then likely, ah’m sure that’ll be fun to get to know them, just whatever yeh plan to do don’t push yeh self too much okay?” Jack spoke to Manic making sure his worry was noted. Jack nodded a little and rested with Manic and listened to what he wanted the rabbit to tell his family, when it was time to leave he kissed Mnic lovingly on the lips and after thanking Scourge once more, he left for home. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ "...Prince Manic has met with an unfortunate accident," Queen Aleena announced. Jack was right there by her side, her assistant in executing Manic's cover up for his disappearance. "This wasn't the first time he's fallen off a horse, but never one running so fast, and King Jack was nice enough to get the best attention for him." It seemed the whole family was good actors, as Aleena was able to make it seem like this fake accident had truly touched her. "As such, my son shall be... going abroad for surgery and rehabilitation. We isn't expected to return for anywhere from six months to a year." The lie was in place, and after her announcements, she turned back to Jack. "I want you to make sure to visit him," Aleena told him, firmly but not cruelly. He seemed more humored, as if their previous meeting hadn't happened at all. "He loves having friends around." Once he returned he told Manic’s family what Manic told him to say, and once everything was ready the announcement and lie was made. Jack had to be a good actor for this to make it seem real, even if he wasn’t good at lying he didn’t have to speak much just say a few words when he was spoken too and let the queen say the rest. Once everything was and the queen spoke to him he gulped quietly and nodded. “Y-yes, ah will visit him, as many times as ah can.” Jack replied still a little nervous under the queen’s presence. "I hope you understand my hostility, it was a very... terrifying discovery." She said, as though that could excuse all of her actions. The news and the public would have a field day with this announcement, but at least they weren't going to have to awkwardly hide Manic in their castle. Even someone as strong as her could ooze concern, and Scourge was definitely the kind of person that could bring it out. "I'm glad you're visiting... be careful. And make sure Manic is absolutely safe whenever you're there. King Scourge is..." A pause to collect her thoughts passed. "...Unofficially, he's a horrible person. In many, many ways. A thief, an adulterer, an all around violent man. Frankly, if it weren't the most secure castle, I wouldn't let Manic stay there at all. Be very wary, you don't know what's going on in that castle." Jack stayed quiet and listened to her speak as she seemed to apologize for her earlier actions. At least Manic was safe now and the risk of this being found out was now slim to none at all hopefully, he nodded as she spoke of keeping Manic safe while he was visiting Scourge’s castle. Jack could understand that while Scourge wasn’t the most gentle of people or the most liked person, he couldn’t be as bad as she made him out to be right?

While Jack knew from personal experience that some of the things about Scourge was true, Jack wasn’t so sure about everything. If it was then Jack would’ve had to give up a lot more to make sure Manic was safe there, and Scourge wouldn’t have gone easy on the rabbit if he was as bad as the queen made him look. “O-okay, ah’ll make sure Manic’s safe whenever ah’m there, ah promise.” Jack replied as a sort of reassurance for the queen as he looked up at her. She just smiled and bowed her head gently, as was proper for a queen to do. "And you watch your back, too, King Jack." Her tone was severe yet concerned. "I've only met with the King a few times before. I don't know what's lurking in that castle, but I know there's something terrible there in wait..."

[mvssmallow]

Cloudy With A Chance

Part 9: …of Early Sunsets.

Masterlist

The hazy afternoon sun is setting over the office rooftops by the time Hanbin can finally leave work. With a few more encouraging words and firm thumps on his back, Donghyuk all but pushes him out the door with a chirpy, “Good luck!”

He takes off his winter jacket after five minutes of walking, unsure if the heat is due to nerves or because he’s vaguely incapable to dressing properly without Jiwon’s weather updates. The reason is the same either way.

Part of him wants to go home to plan his conversation with Jiwon. He wants to make a list and check it twice, write down all the things that are naughty and nice. Donghyuk was right, as always, planning would definitely make him feel better but this is the thing about his anxiety that he will never understand; one day you’re afraid to even step outside your door and on the next, you’re ignoring all the voices and diving in head first without a second thought.

This is where Hanbin finds himself. His nerves stretched and frayed so far that he just wants to cut the cord himself, if it means that he can return to his former peaceful state sooner. Sustaining a perpetual state of anxiety has sucked all the life and energy from him. He’s tired. He’s done with being tired. Heartbreak would be a welcome relief from being tired.

So he lets his feet carry him away from the subway that usually takes him home. He makes a plan mentally with each step: he’ll apologise and mean it, he’ll tell Jiwon the truth, he’ll listen patiently and if it happens, he’ll take rejection on the chin like an adult.

It’s simple. It’s simple.

Just go through the list.

Donghyuk’s advice and optimism echoes in his ear, spurs him on and keeps him going all the way down the street where Jiwon’s garage is. It’s only when he starts hearing engines revving in the distance and male voices shouting that all the blood drains from his head and pools in his legs, dragging them down like lead weights.

Oh fuck.

He really should’ve gone home to plan this.

It’s then that a deep scratchy laugh sounds out from inside the garage. He recognises it instantly and like everything else related to Jiwon, his body reacts involuntarily, without filter or restraint. His head is spinning, his heart races, his chest is warm, his skin tingles, his fingers are restless, there’s God’s swarm of wasps and butterflies in his belly and it’s all because of one undeniable truth: his entire being missed Jiwon.

He’s nervous. So nervous that he’s a bit sick. His heart is thumping away so hard that he’s surprised other people can’t hear it. There’s nothing less than a tornado inside him, screaming and throwing everything around with mindless impatience. And yet, when he finally sees Jiwon wandering towards him, his heart forgets all about the hurt. Past, present and future.

It missed Jiwon. Still misses him. Will probably always miss him, even when he’s right there. It’s the sort of Brand New feeling that Hanbin isn’t ready for and it hits him across the face like a hard knockout punch every single time.

“Hi.” Jiwon gives him a small, uncertain smile.  

“Hey.” Hanbin echoes back. His eyes take in the white t-shirt, the blue coveralls half tied around his waist, the way Jiwon’s fingers rub at the oil smears on his hands and finally, reassuringly, the way Richard Parker’s tail still rises east and settles west.

Like the Sun.

Some things change and some things never change.

“Are you okay?” Jiwon asks with a worried look.

Hanbin’s eyes flick up but he can’t look at Jiwon for too long. Not yet. It’s too confronting. Too intimate. He still doesn’t know if he has that kind of access.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Are you fine? I mean, are you okay?” He stumbles shakily.

The corners of Jiwon’s lips curl up into a discreet half-smile. “I’m okay but I’ve been better.”

Hanbin chuckles nervously and rolls the hem of his shirt between his fingers. “Yeah. Me too.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh. Shit. You’re still working.” Hanbin says with dread as the realisation hits him. “I forgot you worked late on Thursdays. I mean, wait. I didn’t forget. I remembered, which is why I came but shit, you need to go work.”

Jiwon laughs but leaves all the mocking and teasing out of it. “Hanbin. It’s fine. It’s nearly closing time anyway.”

“Yeah…. I know that too.” He mentally curses himself for that. His tongue never cooperates when he needs it to.

Jiwon cocks his head and looks at him. “I know you do.”

He tries to remember what Donghyuk said: go with a clear head, apologise and mean it, say you’re sorry. As much as he tries, all the voices in his head just blend together like a useless mushy milkshake.

“It’s probably a bad time to talk right?” He ventures hesitantly.

Jiwon opens his mouth to reply but after a beat, just shakes his head. “No, now is good. Come out the back.”

Hanbin follows him out of the garage and around the corner where there’s a small wooden bench pushed against the wall. Judging from the cigarette butts on the ground and an empty, crushed can of Coke, it’s probably where the garage workers go for a smoke break. He toes at the litter, waiting for Jiwon to say something as they sit down.

“So. Um,” Jiwon starts cautiously, “I can’t believe you’re here to be honest.”

“Me either.”

“Kinda ruined my plan.”

Hanbin looks across in surprise. “You have a plan?”

Jiwon nods but looks straight ahead into the dark alley way opposite the garage. “Uh, yeah. Well, I had a plan. I went to your office building the other day but the security guy was a bit of a jerk and wouldn’t let me in without an appointment.”

“Yeah, he’s been overzealous since some protesters stormed the office last week.”

“I was going to try again. I wanted to see you.” Jiwon says with the kind of quiet vulnerability that breaks Hanbin inside and floods him with guilt.

“Why didn’t you-” Hanbin trails off.

Why didn’t Jiwon call him down? Text him to tell him he was there? Why didn’t Jiwon try?

But Hanbin knows that he did, the evidence probably still on his phone. And they were all ignored because he had somehow convinced himself that he would be better off alone. The realisation makes him slump backwards against the wall behind them, feeling heavy with burden, guilt, expectation.

“I’m so sorry Jiwon. For that day and well, for every other day too. I’m just sorry for the entire thing.”

Jiwon breathes heavily beside him. It’s the type of breathing that people do when they’re deliberately trying to control it. 

“I’m sorry too. Really fucking sorry.”

Hanbin swallows the lump in his throat and take a breath. “I guess I should tell you now that I’m kind of a mess. Not the cute kind but the medically diagnosed kind. My anxiety isn’t out if control but it does affect me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just never knew the right time to do it and I didn’t want to assume that  you’d want to hear that sort of thing. Most people don’t.”

Jiwon lets out a loud sigh. Probably louder than he meant to. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

Hanbin tries to remain calm. He came here to fix this, not to start another fight.

Take a breath. Count backwards from five, like at NASA.

“It’s not that Jiwon. I trust you, of course I do. But trusting people, trusting anyone, is hard for me. Really hard. It’s not an excuse, it’s an explanation. I want to trust you. I want to do that. But sometimes it’s so hard.”

Jiwon stops staring into the dark alley way and turns to face him with confusion. Hanbin doesn’t look at him, he needs to say his piece before his courage leaves him completely.

“Sometimes my anxiety controls me. Sometimes it just takes over. It tells me that there’s no way someone like you would want to be with someone like me. I’ve been here before and people always leave when they find out what I’m like. So the way I am? This is all self preservation. It’s not because I think you’re a bad person. I’m trying to let go of the past. I’m trying really hard every single day. But I can’t just change in 2 months. I don’t know if you can understand any of that.”

There’s a pause after his jumbled speech that stretches on into the fading evening light. Hanbin stays silent. He’s screaming in silence.

“Fuck.” Jiwon curses heavily, “I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the world.”

Hanbin looks over at him in surprise. “Huh?”

“Shit. I’m so sorry Hanbin.”

“I know, you already said-”

“No. I’M SORRY.” Jiwon says firmly, his eyes pleading for Hanbin to believe him. “Shit. I just never even thought of it that way. I never even thought that it was like that for you. I knew some of it but I didn’t know that.”

Hanbin nods absentmindedly. Partly stunned.

“I’m such an idiot.” Jiwon groans, leaning forward to run a tired hand over his face. “You know, this whole time we were fighting, I just felt sorry for myself because all I could think about was how you thought I was this dumb guy who couldn’t be trusted. I was so offended that I didn’t even think about why you reacted like that. God, I hate that this is what I turned into. It’s not who I want to be. It’s not who I am.”

He says the last sentence with so much anguish that Hanbin’s fingers itch to reach out and touch him.

Jiwon sits up after a few deep breaths. “I guess I need to try and change my old way of thinking too. Maybe we’re both stuck in the past?”

Hanbin nods. The small ember of optimism he still carried deep inside starts glowing again.

“You know, Donghyuk thinks that we needed to have this fight. In order to get us here, to this point.”

Jiwon quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s what June said too.”

“I think they were right.”

There’s another long pause. It’s not exactly a comforting one but it’s not entirely unsettling either. He knows they both have a lot on their minds.

Jiwon breaks the silence eventually. “Hanbin?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you.”

And there it is.

Hanbin stomach flips over with a thud. His heart doesn’t just beat aggressively against his rib cage but it actually manages to break free and blast off into the evening sky. He knows he’s got some kind of weird deer-in-the-headlights-face at the moment because Jiwon clears his throat, as if Hanbin didn’t hear him the first time.

“I like you.” Jiwon repeats. “You know that part right?”

“Yeah…..I know that part.” He ducks his head down, trying to hide the smile that is creeping across on his face. “I….like you too.”

Jiwon doesn’t bother to hide his relieved sigh. “Good. And I don’t want to date other people. Because you’re here now. You know that part too right?”

Hanbin stares at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real? Is this all for real?

“Yeah, I’m…..starting to figure that one out now.” Hanbin gives him a half smile and a full blush. “I don’t want to date other people either.”

“Good.” Jiwon says firmly with a nod, his eyes full of steely determination, like a dog who finally found its bone. “I don’t know why it’s always so hard to say the most obvious things. I was meant to say that to you weeks ago.”

Hanbin doesn’t even know how to respond. Not because he’s overwhelmed but because in that moment, he feels so close to Jiwon. The nerves, the jumbled thoughts, the uncertainty, the remorse, the determination. They weren’t very different from each other at all, not where it really counts.

“Misery is character building.” He says gravely, mocking Jiwon’s serious tone.

They both laugh then. The tension dissipating like thin wisps of smoke in the night.

“Who’s that from? The Socrates guy?”

“No, Calvin and Hobbes.” Hanbin says with a smile.

Jiwon laughs loudly this time. A genuine, undignified, seal bark of a laugh. Hanbin knew he missed it but he didn’t count on it sounding so good at a time like this. Of the many things he likes watching Jiwon do, laughing would be right near the top.

Along with his Brand New feelings, it’s slowly dawning on Hanbin that Jiwon’s happiness is the thing that makes him happy. There’s a sudden surge of adrenaline and happy, relieved excitement cursing through his veins like electricity that has just been turned on. He has the urge to tell Jiwon everything now, both the good and the bad. He feels drunk and slightly crazy. He wants to howl at the moon like a maniac in a drama.

But he doesn’t do any of those things.

Instead he watches as his hand reaches over and searches for Jiwon’s. When their fingers are nestled warmly against each other he tightens his grip, hoping Jiwon understands what he is trying to say.

I’m so glad you found me.

Jiwon squeezes back.

I’m so glad I found you.

Maybe this is what Donghyuk meant about being on the same page with someone. He was expecting a big obvious flashing neon sign but in the end, it was just a quiet handwritten note on a scrap of paper.

And Hanbin is absolutely fine with that.

[jess-oh]

Reflection

hey journal! my body is under a lot of stress today—probably from lugging around my laptop all day, errrday. 

i really dont even know who i am anymore or where my priorities lie or anything. ive been more pessimistic and self deprecating recently. but it was pretty nice to read my journal entries from the mission field and rewatching/listening to the performances from the festival in Turkey! I miss it all.

I totally forgot how much I struggled with my own innerdemons and pride while I was there! I’m glad I documented it. 

I felt pretty challenged by Jason earlier. I think my go to is to hate myself and make a joke about it. I simultaneously think I’m better than everyone else and hate myself whenever I compare myself to those around me, lol. What a strange complex indeed.

I think the biggest thing I learned while in Turkey was to not be so results oriented. tbh, i think my thoughts and emotions have just been so clouded recently and i havent been able to think straight in a long time. a lot of what i’ve said has contradicted other statements ive made. im not who i used to be. i used to be so good at being vulnerable and honest and real and genuine and really did care for others. but ive grown a lot more selfish since then. how can i call myself a Christian and claim these goals when I myself am not living them out? I want to. I’ve been wanting to help others but moreso bc i wanted to feel better about myself and not because i just wanted them to be okay. and i think thats why ive been struggling to create these more intimate bonds and relationships as of recently. im so quick to judge far too often and i really dont want to bc who am i to say or judge anyone? only God can do that. we all have our own stories and sin. i feel like I’m “further” in my relationship with God than others but what does that matter if I’m not moving forward? At least they are deliberately spending more time with God and not just remaining stagnant and complacent in their position! And when I have had the opportunity to talk to people, I’ve found myself finding the conversation boring and wanting to move onto the next best thing instead of just treasuring the moment and opportunity that I had right then and there. I’ve allowed myself to become far too prideful and I want to come from a much more humble mindset once more. Everyone is hurting and everyone has their own story. It isn’t my job to fix them. It isn’t my responsibility and no one expects me to do so. 

In February, I honestly didn’t want to live anymore. I think Sharlene helped a lot and going home to be with friends and family and attend Robbin’s funeral helped a lot. But I felt like I was in so much suffering and it felt overwhelming. He was dead and even in Turkey when I saw someone who looked like him, I was so shocked and distraught at the thought of having to relive that pain and see him again that I couldn’t help but cry and lose focus. My grandpa had cancer and things weren’t looking good. I couldn’t even bring myself to sing “Little Miss Sunshine” and I couldn’t even imagine a reality or possibility where he did pass away. I felt so much guilt and shame after Robbin passed. All the things I could have said. All the things I should’ve done. But I never did. And just like that, he was gone. And I felt like I was in an excruciating amount of pain and suffering. It didn’t matter if I was on the train or walking home or anywhere else public. I didn’t care anymore. At all. I had lost my family. He was gone. And I was so tempted to kill myself bc being with God in Heaven and having eternal life seemed like a much sweeter reality than the Hell I was living in. I didn’t trust the people at Lakeview yet and honestly, I still don’t. Though I am doing better.

I can’t make people happy because I myself am in so much misery. I am so pessimistic and upset and miserable. How could I possibly bring someone joy when I myself am feeling the opposite? I want to radiate with warmth and stand firm in my identity with the Lord. Not in aimlessly walking in this dark chasm that I’ve been walking in for who knows how long. There’s a lot that I don’t say in fear that it is “not as much” in comparison with others. There’s a lot that I don’t say because I don’t want people to see me as weak or think I’m less able of accomplishing certain tasks. 

I don’t want to help for the sake of helping. I want to help because I genuinely care. I’ve grown to be so selfish and apathetic towards it all. And God, I truly am so sorry for the things that I’ve said and the things that I’ve done. I am a child of God. I am a child of God. I am a child of God.

I used to jump at the chance of sharing common interests with others because I knew how lonely it had been being in the outside circle and never fitting in. Never having the opportunity to getting to know anyone because I was judged before I even had the chance. And my bitterness has definitely taken form and prevented me from doing a lot of things. It’s prevented me from going back to Sa-Rang without seeing them all as enemies targeting me. It’s prevented me from really trusting people within the church. How I can I hope to build a culture based in vulnerability when I myself am not willing to do so?

“Judge not, that you be not judged. 2 For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. 3 Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.” Matthew 7:1-4

I want to be genuinely interested and invested in others. When they share what their interests are, I want to take the time to indulge myself in those things so that I may better understand them. I want to build a community and intentional relationships with these people. I don’t want to help so that people can praise my name. I want to help because I care about them. 

I think I’ve been more selfish and conceited recently because I am so desperate for someone to care about me. And I am so blind to the fact that people do. I think Johnathan cares, Jason cares, P. Josh cares, Amanda cares, and I’m sure Johnny does too. David L. cares, Rachel cares, Joyce P. cares. My sister cares, my mom cares, my dad cares. Jeanne cares, Sofia cares, Andrew cares. But I have been so blinded by my own self hatred and criticism that I haven’t been able to see or accept that. I just keep digging my own grave and running into a brick wall when they are more than willing to help. I just have to be honest and reach out to them. Asking for help doesn’t make me a burden. It is only when I expect them to always be by my side in every moment but if I am genuine about it and try to care for them.

By my own standards, I am the worst dirt of the Earth. By those around me, they praise me for my commitment, hard working nature, and determination to get anything done that I set my mind to. I don’t want to believe I’m better than anyone else because I really am not. I am so broken in my ways. I am so confused and lost and feel like I’ve seen nothing but darkness for so long. In February, I decided to try and go all in with God and see if anything changed. If I read the Bible, if I got super involved at church, went on a mission, and really did my best to give everything I am to the Lord and live a life so deeply rooted within the church, what would happen? If I still wasn’t happy and felt miserable then I would know it wasn’t worth it and God is not real in the end. And I would cast Him out and pretend He is fake. And that mindset of going all in has lowkey been super toxic to my faith. Because yes, I have been doing all these things and usually with an ulterior motive in mind. But because of this underlying doubt and caution, I’ve been so quick to point out inconsistencies and almost desperate to find any possible crack in the stone. But going to Turkey did really rekindle my faith, I think. There were moments when God was just so undeniable and real. When I talked to Arzu and my heart so desperately broke for her. 

I don’t want to be afraid to sing loudly at church or be honest about how I’m feeling or really cry out to God during a Sunday service. I so desperately need Him. And this underlying fear has been getting in the way of me really going deeper with Him. I don’t know how long it will take for me to find my identity in Him once more. But thank you God for giving me that wakeup call because if not, I may have ended up like Johnathan’s roommate and left the faith altogether because I tried to serve too soon without having a firm foundation first in you. I do want to better equip myself. I do want to serve your people. I don’t want to serve because it’ll make me look “cool.” I don’t want to serve because of how others will perceive me. I just want to serve just as I am with all that I am. And I pray that I may be a humble servant before you, God. Because your word will not be shaken, God. It will not.

I want to have full confidence in the Lord. Knowing that my identity 

I think initially coming into my freshman year, I was so scared and intimidated by everyone. But I was also much more real and genuine at the time. I think in some part because of all the heartbreak I’ve had to face the past few years as well as hanging out with the wrong people and turning away from God has left me very bitter and apathetic and self-centered and conceited and too afraid to be real. I put up a facade and walls upon walls upon walls up to protect myself from others. It’s in part because of Sa-Rang. But it’s also because I have felt pain so deeply and extremely during my time in college. And it’s honestly been so hard. I’ve relied on people to help me through those moments time and time again but something always happens when I can no longer be friends with them in that capacity anymore. Saying guys and girls are different and can’t trust the MAST guys bc they’re guys is just a cop-out. It’s an excuse so that I don’t have to open myself up. I don’t want to judge/rebuke for the sake of doing so. I want to say these words because I care so much about my friends and genuinely want the best for them. 

God, this is my prayer to you. I don’t want to do these things for the sake of doing them but I want to do them so that I may better honor and glorify you. I do need a community. I do desire just coming as I am to someone. Anyone. I need another Sharlene in my life. She was there for me when I didn’t know what to do. When my cousin had passed away, I didn’t care about anything anymore. I don’t want to brag about the things I’ve done anymore. It’s uncomfortable for everyone and doesn’t make me feel any better about myself. 

My family is not nearly as terrible as I make them out to be but that doesn’t make me any less scared of going home.

Instead of judging people for the things they may say against me, I want to be able to pray for them and lift them up in love.

I want to love as Christ has loved us.

I want to be so confident in my faith that I would be more than willing to die for Christ, regardless of the circumstances. Whether I must lead a life of suffering or face an immediate, I want to be willing. Even if I am imprisoned or socially outcasted or physically punished, I want to still stand tall and firm in my faith. Knowing that my God is so much greater than anything on this Earth.

[edgysocial]

New Post has been published on http://edgysocial.com/what-is-a-toxic-relationship-and-how-to-deal-with-it/

What Is A Toxic Relationship And How To Deal With It.

Toxic relationships. Sounds pretty bad and serious, isn’t it?

We might think those relationships must involve cheating, betrayal or even violent physical actions. Of course, they are obvious signs of unhealthy relationships, but does that mean they are the only indicators?

And is it necessary for us to get emotionally and mentally drained before we start to think about our own happiness?

I understand that sometimes it’s hard for us to face problems in the relationship that we have invested and treasured a lot. It’s not always easy to remember who you are and what you want from the relationship. We might put up a lot of excuses and reasons for people who hurt us because simply picturing the life without them makes our heart ache.

I know how that feel and I have been there too, not only had a few broken relationships, I also experienced obstacles with my friends and co-workers. (It’s not just romantic relationship that can become toxic, my friend!)

No matter what kind of relationship it is, it’s important to pay attention to how the relationship makes you feel. Think about it this way, Listening to yourself and pay attention to how you feel is, the key to saving your relationship. Simply letting the other parties know what you really want is the key first step to regaining your own happiness again!

Here I have summarized toxic signs in different kind of relationships and solutions that might help you to get through this unpleasant stage.

On Toxic Love Relationships

Passive Aggressive

What is it? It is the indirect resistance to others to avoid direct confrontation. It means on the surface we try not to be aggressive but we actually are. One way is by criticisms. “I hate it when you do this but I have been keeping it to myself.” Sounds familiar, isn’t it? It happens when they try to nudge you in the direction of figuring it out yourself.

Why is it toxic? It shows that you aren’t ready for open communication. If you feel secure to someone you’ll be open to express feelings directly instead of dropping hints for guessing. If your partner only knows you don’t like the idea but doesn’t know your real meanings, the conflict cannot be solved. You may create distance since your partner may avoid any kind of confrontations by hiding thoughts in the future.

What should you do instead? If you to be understood, tell them your feelings openly. Tell your partner that you are not blaming him/her but you want to discuss and find out solutions together. By doing this, your partner knows it needs both parties’ effort to work it out. This also gives a chance for both of you to explain yourself clearly to each other and develop a better understanding.

Excessive Jealousy

What is it? Jealousy is a mixture of insecurity, fear, rage, anxiety and blablabla (and the list goes on).Simply listing them makes me sick too!  A simple and obvious example is you feel bad when you see your partner get in touch (in any form) with others. What do you do? You tell your partner that’s an awful thing to do and try to control your partner by forbidding them to contact ever again.

Why is it toxic? The emotion signifies a lack of trust. This will often lead to a loop when you start to check your partner’s phone while they are in the shower. A male friend of mine experienced this. His ex-lover checked his phone by looking at the photos, call history, and WhatsApp and Facebook messages. They ended up in a serious argument because the man found it disrespectful while the girl felt emotionally cheated. When jealousy is excessive, both parties suffer and after all the torture, it’s common to say goodbye in the end.

What should you do instead? A certain level of jealousy is natural and is considered as a sign of affection since you show care. However, excessive jealousy is definitely toxic. Trust your partner. It is just as simple as that. Do not overthink how your partner is going to cheat you. If you feel insecure, tell your lover and let them know how you feel.

Buying the Solution

What is it? Instead of talking through the problem, you partner try to cover it up with a good feelings and excitement that comes from gifts and treats. Imagine You and your partner had an argument in the morning. At night your partner brings you to a fancy restaurant with your favourite Italian cuisine. You want to talk about the issue but you don’t want to break the atmosphere and so both of you enjoy the pasta with casual talk. So what’s going on with the problem? Guess you guys just let it “pass-ta” away.

Why is it toxic? You think it helps rebuild the relationship? This isn’t true. Covering up problems doesn’t work since the problem is never discussed or solved. You feel depressed instead of happy even tho you are having a nice dinner because you know your partner isn’t willing to be accountable for the problem. So the story ended up with voice unheard and a man feeling like an ATM.

What should you do instead? Again. Talk. Talk. And Talk. Communication is always the key. Dig deep into the core problem and try to solve it step by step to make sure it won’t happen again. There’s nothing wrong to treat your lover a nice gift but never use this as a solution to your problem because it will never be. If you try to cover it up with gifts, the problem accumulates and rolls like a snowball, leading to a harmful and enormous threat to the relationship.

Blaming One’s Emotion On the Other Half

What is it? Some people think if two people are intimate, their can rely their feelings on each other. It means that if you get angry then your partner has responsibility in causing that. Imagine a girl who just finished an exhausting day wants to see her partner asap after work. Unluckily the partner had a dinner date planned earlier so he got home late. At home, he got distracted by a business phone call while the tired girl tries to cuddle. The girl ended up losing temper because she felt like being ignored and the partner was insensitive to her feelings. She blamed him to be responsible for all the negative emotions.

Why is it toxic? It’s just small issue and can be solved easily, but now it ended up with an unnecessary argument. This harms the relationship when the partner finds you irrational and emotional and constant annoyance can possibly reduce intimacy and of course patience.

What should you do instead? Put yourself in his/her shoes. Think of the frustrations your other half may have in a day. If you are tired frommeant work, he or she may probably feel the same. Take responsibility for your own feelings. Long-lasting partners are meant to be supportive but not obligated to each other’s feelings. You don’t want your partner to put the blame on you for everything they feel too. So next time if you need him/her, just gently ask, ‘I just had a bad day, si that ok if you can talk to me for a while or just comfort me?”

On Toxic Friendships

Encourages bad behavior

What is it? He or she invites you to join all those events that involve unhealthy activities like smoking or taking drugs and maybe even convince you to try it.

Why is it toxic? We normally will compromise because of peer pressure and just don’t want to be left out. We try very hard to fit in because they are our friends. and because of that we easily develop habits that affect us because who would want to be left out alone? However, because of this mentality, in long term, we will simply do things that we don’t want to. In a more serious way, you might also lose yourself and the power to reject.

What should you do instead? You should understand your stand, what you like or do not like and keep it firm, do only what makes you comfortable and feel right to do. Also, you should understand that friends should be encouraging (in a positive way) and that they will not force you to do the things you do not want in life and how you guys are not on the same path anymore.

All you do is gossip

What is it? Basically, every time you guys meet, all you guys do is gossip. You will find yourself constantly gossiping with him or her behind people’s back and judge their behaviors, appearances or any other little things that are not really meaningful in life or have little contribution to your personal growth.

Why is it toxic? In order for us not to be awkward, you are forced to give he or she the answers they want to hear and gossip together with them about things that are not important in your life and constantly sending out negativity to people when you make your judgment. In long term, you are wasting your time gossiping in which you could have developed yourself a hobby, read a book and do something more positive or meaningful things to yourself or the society. You might also start to be more negative in life than before as you constantly make your judgment and see only the bad in people and fail to appreciate the others.

What you should do instead? First, you should avoid gossiping with him or her and learn to see the good things in people around you and in your life. Spend more time focusing on yourself and your friends instead of people that are not around. Always remember to surround yourself with positive and encouraging people. 

You guys are not on the same path anymore

What is it? You guys have different or maybe even the opposite goals in life and he or she blames you for not following her path and degrades your goals or dreams in life.

Why is it toxic? He or she blames you for being selfish and not considerate enough to have a different path with him or her in life, in which you might then be persuaded to give up what you want in order to be the ‘considerate’ friend that he or she wants you to be. Finally, you give up what you want to do instead of perusing what you want in your life trying to make your friend, but not yourself, who is the owner of this life.

What you should do instead?

You should stand firm in face of her judgment and blame. Do not stop believing in what you want to do or to achieve in life just because of what she said. Remember that good friend should be supportive of each other despite having different goals in lives.

Everything is in competition

What is it? Instead of feeling happy about what your friends have achieved, you feel jealous and often compare your own success with theirs. You compete for everything with him or her from what you guys eat, what you guys wear, where you guys live, your exam scores, your positions in work to every little part of your life even though it is not meaningful.

Why is it toxic? You start to focus so much on winning that you spend your every dollar, every minute and every bit of energy competing with her. Then, you forget your original plan or goals in life because you are too obsessed with winning her. In the end, you lose track of your goals in lives and forget many other things that are much more meaningful and important than competitions in life, like a true genuine friendship.

What should you do instead? Don’t lose yourself. True friends should be happy for each other and encourage each other along the way instead of competing. You should know that not everything is or should be a competition and that failing does not mean losing, what is moreimportant is that you learn from your friends and know what you want to improve. Don’t hesistate to ask for help if you think they can teach you!

On Toxic Working Relationships

Pointing to the person instead of the problem

What is it? When there is a problem at work, your colleagues blame you or your team members instead of fixing it together. Imagine something went wrong in a project. Rather than investigating the problem deeply or learning from the mistake, your colleagues keep blaming and pinpointing at one particular person, claiming that it’s all his/her fault. Sounds annoying, isn’t it?

Why is it toxic? Does blaming help? Definitely not. Nothing will improve by simply putting the blame on someone instead of finding ways to improve. Members who are blamed will feel demotivated and embarrassed. It is also possible for them to do the same and blame the others next time.

What should you do instead? Try to talk openly about the problem as a team instead of an individual. Make sure you talk objectively and based on fact instead of feelings. Let your team members know open communication is the only way for the team to learn and grow.

Not sharing responsibilities

What is it? When there is a big project that requires effort from different parties, some colleagues refused to contribute either they are too busy with their own stuff or fail to fulfill what’s promised.

Why is it toxic? How do you feel if a team member doesn’t contribute as much as the others? That’s just NOT FAIR, I bet you are screaming this in your head. The colleague who doesn’t share responsibilities is likely to be disliked by the others. It demotivates others too because they may feel dissatisfied due to the lack of contribution of the colleague. This doesn’t only ruins the relationship and it might delay the project progress.

What should you do instead? Always remember you are not working on your own but as a team. Whenever someone needs help, offer help. And when the work requires shared work, get involved, contribute, and take up responsibilities. Try to find out why your team member failed to contribute their part, make deep investigationa, find out the reasons and offer as much help and assistant as you can!  Again, just what we stated above, point to the problem, not the person!

The post What Is A Toxic Relationship And How To Deal With It. appeared first on Lifehack.

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