#caretaker Woozi/Jihoon

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍊Without you, I’m so lonely

Title from Darl+ing (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: Seungkwan is stricken down by the flu during the Follow Tour in Japan. Jeonghan takes care of him but Seungkwan misses Seungcheol.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Seungkwan Caretaker: Jeonghan + S.Coups/Seungcheol + Woozi/Jihoon

Seungkwan groaned as the light was flipped on, attacking his retinas, and turned onto his side to bury his face in the pillow. It barely helped and, even worse, with how stuffed his nose was he only held out that position for another few seconds until he had to turn back onto his back before he suffocated. Despite having his eyes pressed shut, it was too bright.

The bed dipped beside him and a soft hand brushed his hair away from his forehead. 

“How are you feeling, darling?”, Jeonghan asked genty, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it hurt Seungkwan’s head.                          

“Amazing, hyung. Truly amazing”, Seungkwan said through gritted teeth, immediately feeling bad for snapping at the older. Jeonghan, as promised, had come back early from the team dinner -  he hadn’t even planned to go to once he had realized how sick Seungkwan was - to check on him. It wasn’t fair of the younger vocalist to be snippy or cold towards him. He was just so frustrated. They had just finished three amazing nearly back-to-back concerts in Nagoya and, instead of celebrating with the rest of the team in Osaka where they were set to perform in a few days’ time, he was trapped in bed.

Feverish. 

His head pounding.

Nose stuffed and running simultaneously.

A rough cough making his throat and chest hurt.

Nausea burning in his stomach.

Exhausted.

Sweaty.

“Sorry”, he whispered, coughing slightly, and opened his eyes, “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or be rude. I’m just … well, cranky, I guess. I don’t wanna be sick.”

Jeonghan just shushed him, placing his cold hands against Seungkwan’s burning cheeks. Despite his whole body freezing, his face was hot. That was the fever, probably. The touch felt heavenly and he sighed. 

“I know, Kwannie. I’m sorry you’re feeling so terrible”, his hyung replied. “Did you take your meds?”

Seungkwan nodded. “I took the meds”, he rasped, coughing again. “I tried to sleep too but I couldn’t. I talked to Coups-hyung on the phone for a bit but he had to leave pretty soon… I really don’t feel good.”

“Oh, Kwannie”, Jeonghan cooed. It should have been awkward, Seungkwan supposed. He was a grown man after all, hell he was closer to thirty than to twenty by now. Yet, with Jeonghan, somehow, it wasn’t weird at all. He just had those parent vibes that not only Carats joked about. And Seungkwan really needed his hyung right now. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you wanna cuddle? Maybe it will help you sleep and even …”

He didn’t even need to finish his sentence for Seungkwan to agree. “Please, hyungie”, he whispered, desperate for something he couldn’t describe in his voice. “I …”

“I got you, darling”, Jeonghan shushed him, climbing under the blankets with him. It must have been his plan all along, Seungkwan realized then, because Jeonghan was already wearing sleeping clothes. He knew Seungkwan would never tolerate somebody entering his bed in street clothes. Though he might have made an exception for his hyung in this situation. 

As soon as Jeonghan was settled under the covers, Seungkwan buried himself in his chest, shivering as he finally felt a bit warmer. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around Seungkwan and entangled their legs for maximum warmth. 

“I’m sorry”, Seungkwan whispered, annoyed with how he could barely hug Jeonghan without being unable to breathe. Even less so was he happy that his nose was now so stuffed he could only breathe with his mouth open, which irritated his already raw throat. “You didn’t have to come back early, you know?”

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to come back and check on you. Without you and Cheollie it wasn’t that much fun either way.”

“Sorry.”

“Nope, you’re not allowed to say that again, Kwannie”, Jeonghan scolded lightly, tapping his fingers against Seungkwan’s temple in a gentle admonishing motion. “It’s not your fault that you are sick. And I wanted to come back and see how you were doing because I was worried. It was my decision and I’d like you to understand that. I’ll always come back to check on my babies.”

“Dino is baby”, Seungkwan mumbled, flushing red and not knowing what else to say. His hyungs words warmed his heart and made him feel loved like little else did. How did he deserve such a caring hyung?

Unbidden tears came to his eyes and he pressed his eyes shut against the burning sensation.

“Dino may be the baby but you … hey, Kwannie, are you crying?”, Jeonghan asked confused. “What? What’s wrong? Don't cry, darling.”

“Nothing”, Seungkwan sniffed, “I just … thank you … for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me either, hon.” Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss against Seungkwan’s temple. “Your fever really got you emotional, huh? Why don’t we talk later when you are feeling a bit better? Sleep for now.”

Seungkwan nodded against his hyung’s shoulder, sure he was smearing snot on him. He knew Jeonghan didn’t care and while disgusting, Seungkwan was too tired to care either.

“Love you, hyung”, he muttered sleepily, “tell me about team dinner?”

“Love you too, baby”, Jeonghan replied.

Seungkwan fell asleep to tales of Seokmin trying to get Hoshi drunk, Woozi trying to stop Seokmin from trying to get Hoshi drunk and Mingyu trying to stop Woozi from trying to…

💎

When Seungkwan woke up again he was uncomfortably hot and wet. Sweat soaked everything around him and yet he couldn’t even care how disgusting that was. All he could focus on was the nausea in his stomach and the sensitiveness of his skin. 

He felt a thousand times worse than he had that morning when he had awoken with just a sore throat and a low fever. The flight to Osaka had not been pleasant at all with how stuffed up he was and by then he had to accept that he wasn’t well … but he hadn’t expected he’d feel this bad. Just the thought of moving made him want to cry.

His stomach was cramping harshly and he couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling in his throat. It was terribly tight and uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t supposed to swallow. It was like he could feel his stomach contents slowly climbing up his esophagus. 

Seungkwan was surprised to find Jeonghan still sleeping peacefully next to him. The older normally had issues sleeping after all but he seemed to be so exhausted that not even his bed partner turning into a furnace seemed to wake him. The way Jeonghan was holding him would have been comforting in any other time and place but with how overheated he was, Seungkwan needed him to let go.

“Hyung”, he whispered, shaking Jeonghan’s shoulder. He didn’t want to wake him, not when they all were working so hard but what choice did he have? He felt like he was boiling alive and that couldn’t be comfortable for Jeonghan either.

Luckily the one shake was enough to wake him up, apparently. Jeonghan jerked awake, and instantly fumbled for the lightswitch. When the light was turned on, Seungkwan saw just how much he had sweated. The sheets around him were wet and tinged yellow and so was Jeonghan’s previously white shirt. 

Jeonghan didn’t seem to care. His brow was furrowed in worry and he looked so very concerned. One of his hands came up to feel Seungkwan’s forehead. “Oh, Seungkwannie. Are you feeling worse?”

Seungkwan nodded, feeling his expression turn into a pout. “‘m so hot”, he complained, swallowing against the thickness in the back of his mouth, “and so nauseous.”

“Are you gonna throw up?”, Jeonghan asked panically, sitting up and looking around for a receptacle just in case. 

“No. Yes. Maybe”, Seungkwan whispered, “I don’t know, hyung. I … my stomach hurts and the cramps are really bad and I feel really nauseous but I can’t tell if I need to puke.”

If he was honest, Seugkwan really really didn’t want to throw up in a strange city, in a strange hotel bathroom. Being sick at home was already bad enough, but somewhere else? No. He couldn’t imagine how awful that would be. 

“Okay, try to stay calm, hm?”, Jeonghan suggested. If it was anybody else Seungkwan would have told them where they could stick calm when he was feeling this bad but he couldn’t find any anger flaring towards his hyung. He just wanted a hug. “Let’s sit in the bathroom just in case. I want to take your temperature again and see if we can get some meds to help you, okay?”

Seungkwan nodded and let himself be pulled to his feet by Jeonghan. He had been laying down for the better part of the last sixteen plus hours so, while unwelcome, the headrush wasn’t unexpected. Still he stumbled into his hyung’s arms, Jeonghan’s hand rubbing up and down his spine the only thing grounding him. 

Standing up must have triggered his body in other ways too: Suddenly all the mucus that had been stuck in his nose decided to run down to his upper lip and the tickle in his throat turned into a full-blown cough. Jeonghan didn’t pull away, instead just cradled Seungkwan’s head against his shoulder and let him cough. 

It was awful, really. The coughing was shaking his whole body and it did his nausea no favors. Seungkwan was barely able to fight back the gags. Jeonghan seemed to understand and within a few seconds had pulled Seungkwan towards the bathroom, where he made him kneel down over the toilet, in case the coughing did bring up something.

By the time the fit was over, Seungkwan hadn’t thrown up but he nearly wished he had. His stomach was just even more angry at him and he felt like he was about to gag and throw up any second now. Leaning over the toilet bowl didn’t help the feeling at all.

Jeonghan, the hyung he was, seemed to sense that. Or maybe he knew from own experiences. Whatever it was, he gently pulled Seungkwan away from his bent over position and propped him up against the glass of the shower. 

“Let’s take your temperature, okay?”, Jeonghan suggested, placing his cold fingers against Seungkwan’s brow. Seungkwan nodded. Without letting go, his hyung reached up for the sink where Seungkwan had left the thermometer earlier when he had first gotten the chance to check how high his fever was. Then he sat cross legged in front of Seungkwan, holding the device out to him.

“How do you wanna do this? Under the tongue is more accurate but if you’re feeling too nauseous we can do the armpit too?”

Seungkwan couldn’t imagine sticking the thermometer into his mouth. It sounded like a disaster just waiting to happen. Besides, his nose was so stuffed he doubted he could even breathe with his mouth closed. So he untangled his left arm from his shirt sleeve and put the cold metal under his arm, suddenly shivering from the cold. 

Jeonghan entangled their fingers as they waited for the beep, pouting. If he wasn’t so tired and felt like speaking was just a bit too risky, Seungkwan would have tried to alleviate his worry. So he just let Jeonghan busy himself with cleaning up Seungkwan's snotty face while they waited. When he pulled the thermometer away and found a reading of 39.1°C he realized there was nothing he could say to even make this better. It was a pretty high temperature, one that if they were at home in the dorms would have the hyungs call a doctor. Now, in a hotel room, they could ask for the medic of course but Seungkwan really didn’t feel like getting prodded in the middle of the night. 

He assumed Jeonghan agreed with not involving the team medic yet, because he just sighed and then scooted to sit next to Seungkwan, letting him rest his weary head on his shoulder. “Do you wanna go back to bed?”

“No”, Seungkwan mumbled, swallowing harshly. Just the one word had been enough to make his stomach somersault. And then he hiccoughed. The panic on Jeonghan’s face would have been funny considering it truly was only a hiccough but the way it made Seungkwan’s mouth water and brought the taste of his earlier food to his throat, made it decidedly unfunny. 

“Oh God”, he whispered, feeling himself start to tear up. It hurt his throat and the involuntary motion made the situation feel much more dangerous than it already was. He didn’t want to throw up. 

“Let’s get you back over the toilet, okay?”, Jeonghan asked and helped Seungkwan crawl forward. 

Feeling his body jerk with the motion, Seungkwan whimpered. His mouth was full of saliva and he spit into the water below repeatedly, trying to get the sour tasting fluid out. His shoulders rolled and his body worked against him, his stomach cramping and feeling so sour and sick.

And yet, nothing happened. 

Jeonghan’s hand on his back was a welcome distraction but it didn’t help. 

💎

Seungkwan didn’t know how long they sat there, just waiting. It could have been minutes, hours or days from his wonky perception. All he felt was the snot dripping down his nose and the nausea deep in his stomach.

“I don’t think you’re going to throw up, Kwannie”, Jeonghan finally said, patting his hip. “Why don’t we go back to bed?”

“What if I throw up?”, Seungkwan whispered. Deep cleaning a hotel room surely would be expensive for the company and he already felt bad for whoever would have to do that if he got sick on the carpet.

“I’ll get you a trash can, okay?”

Seungkwan had seen the tiny bin in the room. Even if he managed to hit that should the nausea win over, it would overflow within seconds. He shook his head, whimpering as the motion aggravated his headache and dizziness. 

“Let’s lean back at least, hm?”, Jeonghan suggested. Without really waiting for an answer he pulled Seungkwan between his legs and into his arms. “No use hurting your back sitting like that.”

Seungkwan allowed himself to curl up against his hyung, shaking and coughing in his arms. Exhausted tears threatened to fall and all he wanted was sleep.

“What can we do to make you feel better, love? You’re due for some meds around now.”

Seungkwan shook his head. He could not stomach anything right now. All he wanted was to be home. 

Well, that wasn’t quite true. 

He wanted his Coups-hyung.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Jeonghan being with him. He did very much so. But since Seungcheol had torn his ACL in August Seungkwan felt like he had barely seen their leader. They had visited him at the hospital of course and he had been there for their Tokyo concerts, on stage even, but then they had left to film Nana Tour and ever since it had just been phone calls and video chats. While Seungkwan had spoken with him earlier, complaining about being sick, he now missed Seungcheol more than ever.

He must have been quiet for too long because soon enough Jeonghan gently called his name in worry.

“Sorry”, Seungkwan mumbled. He felt terrible saying it out loud - he didn’t want Jeonghan, amazing, sweet Jeonghan who had sacrificed a nice evening with the team and was staying up with him at night, to think he didn’t appreciate him. But he couldn’t help the words that spilled over his lips: “I want Cheollie-hyung.”

Jeonghan sighed, playing with Seungkwan’s hair and patting his back as he coughed once again. “I wish he was here too. Let’s call him, alright? If he picks up he picks up. If he doesn’t, we’ll let him sleep.”

“Please, hyungie.”

There was no time difference between South Korea and Japan, so Seungcheol should be asleep. Resting and healing. Seungkwan felt incredibly selfish. Jeonghan must have read his mind, as he said: “Don’t, Kwannie. Don’t feel bad about it. We all need Cheollie at times and we all miss him. You’re sick and exhausted and overtired. He won’t mind. Besides, he has all the time now to rest for once and he would feel terrible if he found out one of his babies wanted him and didn’t dare call.”

Seungkwan didn’t have a chance to reply before Jeonghan pressed the call button for a video call. So he snuggled his way under Jeonghan’s chin, trembling with fever and anticipation if Seungcheol would pick up.

He did. Bleary-eyed and confused, but instantly concerned when he saw Seungkwan tucked into Jeonghan’s arms.

“Hey, ddaddu”, Jeonghan greeted him, “I got a sick kid missing you here.”

“Morning, Kwannie. Hannie”, Seungcheol replied and moved in the frame of his phone, apparently sitting up. His face was pulled into an adorable, worried pout. “What’s wrong, Kwannie? Are you feeling worse than before? Did you talk to the medic already?”

“I’m so nauseous, hyung”, Seungkwan mumbled, “everything hurts. I just don’t feel good. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby”, Seungcheol repeated. “I love you so much. Do you just wanna chat a bit?”

Seungkwan nodded reluctantly, coughing softly. His voice felt very wet and close to breaking when he continued: “I love you, hyung. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t be”, Seungcheol and Jeonghan said at the same time, then Jeonghan added: “We didn’t call the medic yet. Kwannie has just been super nauseous and we’ve been sitting here for some time now. I miss you too, for the record.”

“I wish I was there”, Seungcheol said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair, “how often have you been sick, Kwannie? You may need the med…”

“I haven’t thrown up, hyung”, Seungkwan explained, suddenly emotional. He wiped at his eyes. He was so sick of feeling sick. “I … I feel so horrible.”

His throat jumped at his admission and he swallowed harshly.

“Baby, I know you won’t like this suggestion”, Seungcheol started, “but… Do you want to throw up? It might help you feel better. At least less nauseous so you can take some medication and sleep.”

It was one thing for Seungcheol, who felt like he was on the other end of the earth, to say this but Seungkwan hated that Jeonghan, right behind him, gave a noise of agreement and nodded.

“I do want to feel better … but …”

“Cheollie is right. Getting your stomach empty might help”, Jeonghan agreed. 

Seungkwan was doubtful. Why would puking help if he was trying not to puke? Why did having to puke be the solution to not being able to feel better? He hated vomiting. Sure, not as much as Vernon who could be labeled slightly emetophobic or even Mingyu, who was kind of very emetophobic. Seungkwan had no issues with it, as long as it wasn’t him throwing up. 

Seungcheol, true leader that he was, perceived Seungkwan’s reluctance even through the phone. “It can help, having your stomach empty. I don’t think Jihoonie would mind me telling you this in this situation but when he has a migraine and is really feeling sick he sometimes tries to make himself throw up so he can lie down and sleep faster. It helps him a lot and it might help you now, too.”

Seungkwan grimaced but he had to give Seungcheol some credit. He had seen how awful migraines made the producer feel and so he kind of got why he would do that. That didn’t mean he wanted that for himself.

But between his raw throat, the coughing that seemed to only get worse and the sniffling he knew he was in for a rough few days. He would be lucky if he was fit for the next concert. So maybe, if he felt better after throwing up…

“Okay”, he mumbled, kind of already regretting it the moment the words left his mouth. “How do I…?”

“I’ll get you a glass of water”, Jeonghan said, clearly knowing what he was doing. He handed the phone to Seungkwan and removed himself from the maknae. Without Jeonghan’s warmth at his back Seungkwan shivered and jerked forward with a forceful sneeze.

“Bless you, baby”, Seungcheol said, “I’m really sorry I can’t be there for you.” “It’s okay, hyungie. Talking with you already helps”, Seungkwan replied, sniffing and using his hand to wipe away the snot dripping down his face. It would normally be disgusting but right now he didn’t care one bit. “Besides, I got Hannie-hyung with me.”

💎

It all happened so fast after that. Jeonghan ended the call - no need for Seungcheol to helplessly listen - and pressed the cup into Seungkwan’s hand, after helping him situate himself over the toilet. “Drink it all in one go”, he explained, ��you’re so nauseous it should tip your stomach over the edge.”

Seungkwan took a deep breath, not daring to think about what he was going to do, then gulped the water down in one go. For just a split second he thought it hadn’t helped, but then all he could do was mumble a terrified “Hyungie…” before a geyser of water erupted from his mouth. Waves of vomit splatter relentlessly into the dirty water below, slowly turning from liquidy transparent to chunky and smelly brown. 

It was disgusting and painful and it felt like it would never stop. Seungkwan was sure that if Jeonghan hadn’t held him up and kept muttering reassurances into his ears he would have just combusted of awfulness on the spot. He wasn’t sure he had ever thrown up this violently before.

And then it was over. Seungkwan gasped for breath, panicked and terrified and sobbing before he could stop himself. 

Yet, as Jeonghan pulled him into his arms, soothing him with soft forehead kisses and warm words, Seungkwan finally realized he felt better.

Sure, his head still pounded. His nose was running and he knew there was a spot of snot on Jeonghan’s shirt. His throat was very close to just giving up on his voice and his chest hurt from coughing and vomiting alike. But the awfulness of nausea was mostly gone.

As that realization came, Seungkwan felt like he was hit by a truck. Tiredness was overruling all other feelings and he was sure if he wanted to he could have fallen asleep just then and there in Jeonghan’s arms. He was pretty close to do so, actually, when his hyung shook his shoulder.

Seungkwan whined. He just wanted to sleep. He wondered if he said that out loud as Jeonghan whispered: “I know, I know. But let’s change your clothes, okay? And we need new blankets, you were sweating so badly earlier.”

It sounded like too many steps, especially too many steps that would require him to let go of Jeonghan. Even that his hyung seemed to have anticipated.

“Let me call one of the other members, okay? We can sleep in my room tonight and I know all of your hyungs will be happy to carry you there, hm? Who do you want me to call?”

Maybe he had his mind still on him due to the conversation earlier or maybe he just wanted his vocal team leader but no matter what it was, Seungkwan found himself mumbling Woozi’s name. 

“I’ll call him.”

💎

Fifteen minutes later, Seungkwan found himself laying on Jeonghan’s hotel room bed dressed in fresh clothes, also belonging to Jeonghan, while Jihoon was sitting perched at his side. The thermometer was stuck in Seungkwan’s mouth, even as he was falling asleep, and Jihoon was running gentle fingers through his hair. Jeonghan was taking a shower. Seungkwan hadn’t even realized that he had apparently thrown up on him a bit. He was terribly sorry but an apology would have to wait until morning. 

All he could do before finally drifting back to sleep was ask: “How is Hoshi-hyung?”

Jihoon sighed, fondly rolling his eyes.

“Pathetically drunk. He will hate himself come morning.”

Notes: Happy Birthday, Jeonghan!

I don't have a Jeonghan fic written but I think this fits him much better anyways! I already miss him so much :(

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[babyleostuff]

which svt boy is the type of boyfriend with whom you can turn your brain off with | ot13

. . . most to least likely

1 . . . seungcheol

i don’t think anyone is surprised that choi seungcheol is the number one. you wouldn’t have to think AT ALL ever again with him, like come on - he’s big, buffy and dependable (jeonghan’s words, not mine). knowing him, he’d get offended if you tried to “think” - looking out for you, and taking care of you is his number one priority in life. i mean it, it’s his life mission.

2 . . . mingyu

husband material number two, he’s equally fixated on looking out for you as cheol. there is nothing that could distract mingyu from you, your well-being, and safety. the type to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and always holding your hand when crossing the road. not a single one of your brain cells would have to be active when he’d be around.

3 . . . joshua

the third husband coded man of svt. no matter how distracted you’d get, joshua would be there right by your side to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself or get lost if you were out on the town. there would be no need for you to be aware of anything, thanks to your lovely boyfriend. and it’d all come so naturally for him - he wouldn’t even have to think about it.

4 . . . minghao

hao, our silent and attentive boy that looks out for you, no matter what, would always make sure you’re taken care of, to the point where you wouldn’t really have to think around him. you could do whatever, and minghao would have no problem with protecting you from anything that could hurt you. he’s just so aware of you, and your presence.

5 . . . jeonghan

similar to mingaho in the sense that you don’t even realise that you’re not really “thinking” when you’re with him. even before you started dating he was always such a caretaker that it doesn’t really surprise anyone when you mindlessly follow jeonghan everywhere without a single care in the world.

6 . . . wonwoo

wonwoo is everything you could ask for - he is handsome, smart, funny, and most importantly he always makes sure you’re happy, well fed, and safe. he is ready to change a light bulb, make you dinner (even though he can’t cook for shit), pick you up after a party, and pack you lunch before school/work. the best part out of all of this is that you never have to ask for any of this - he just knows when you need him, so why do you need to think when your boyfie is always there for you

7 . . . woozi

woozi is kind of the middle ground between those who are excellent at taking care of you, and those who try their best, but are too easily distracted, or just prefer to be the ones taken care of. jihoon is always there for you, no matter what (obviously), but sometimes he can get a bit distracted, so you’d still have to be aware of your surroundings when out and about, or you’d have to check his luggage before a trip to make sure he packed his toothbrush.

8 . . . chan

a very observant lil bub that always keeps an eye on you. no matter how much you try to convince him you are good on your own, he still takes care of you in every way he can, and with time (you didn’t even realise when) you started to shut your brain off more and more when with your boyfriend. and come on, it makes him so happy when you depend on him, he loves when you grab his hand the second you exit the car, ready to trust your boyfriend with everything and anything.

9 . . . dk

does a pretty good job as being the “thinker” until something doesn't distract him, and because he is easily distracted, well… he is a cutie pie, though, and very obedient, so he will gladly follow you everywhere without much nagging so looking after him isn’t as hard as looking out for hoshi or vernon. there is one situation when you can definitely shut your brain off, and it’s in crowded places, because there is no way dk will let anything happen to you in a crowd.

10 . . . seungkwan

poor baby really tries to take care of you so can confidently shut your brain off with him, but at the end of the day your relationship is very 50/50… okay, more like 30/70 because usually it’s you who has to think about everything. seungkwan still tries to help you out as much as he can, he doesn’t want to be a burden to you, but sometimes he’s just so easily distracted or oblivious to what is happening around him.

11 . . . jun

easily distracted, manipulated, puts himself in dangerous situations on a daily basis, and has the tendency to wander off like a kindergarten kid, so naturally he’s the one to shut his brain off with you. looking after him can be quite tricky sometimes, he has his rebel moments when he want to make your life a living hell by worrying the shit out of you, but the second he sees you getting really stressed he gets back to his polite, and cute self.

12 . . . hoshi

this poor boy would get distracted so easily, you’d have to think for him. if you were out, hoshi would be the one to wander off, or not see the incoming car and almost getting hit by it - you’d have to be the one to save him from everything. it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you, but he’s a kid at heart that needs to be the protected one.

13 . . . vernon

same as hoshi, you need to be alert 24/7 with vernon. distracted easily, and does not understand the concept of dangerous situations - you’d definitely have to be the “thinker” in your relationship. like, if you were going on a trip you’d be the person that plans everything, is in charge of the maps, food, packing clothes, and vernon would be the one to venmo you money.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys

[wqnwoos]

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (vocal unit ver.)

hhu ver. — requested by anon

JEONGHAN.

he’s so soft :(

like immediately scoops u up

talks to you very gently while he holds you,, about literally ANYTHING

jeonghan doesn’t notice how close you’ve sidled up to him until you tug on his shirt a little. he’s been wrapped up in conversation with mingyu, riling him up with friendly teasing and laughing as mingyu pouts defensively.

at least, until you appear out of nowhere, brushing your arm against his and sending him glances from the side of your eyes; he can tell you think he hasn’t noticed, but he definitely has. he always notices, especially when it’s you.

which is how he ends up cutting off his teasing, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer, resting a hand on your thigh and murmuring a quick “you okay?” in your ear. and it’s only when you nod, satisfied, that he returns to the conversation.

JOSHUA.

i feel like he intuitively knows when u need him

hand holder for SURE have u guys seen the recent gose 😭

probably rubs your back or something too :((

“joshua, we are going to get lost.” you pronounce the moment you see the bustling crowds of the carnival in front of you.

your boyfriend scoffs lightly. “come onnn. we’ll be fine.”

“hello? are you seeing this?” with a wide sweep of your arm, you gesture to the horde with wide eyes, unconsciously pressing closer to him already.

“don’t worry, baby. we won’t get separated.” joshua reassures, and then pauses, before dramatically announcing — “ever.”

you blink at him under the coloured lights and merry-go-round music. “i can’t tell if that was heartwarming or incredibly cheesy.”

“both?” he suggests with a smirk, before holding his hand out to you. “come on.”

“josh, don’t let go of me, okay?” you say nervously, as you approach the crowds.

he brushes a kiss over your joined hands with half a smile. “never.”

WOOZI.

omg. soooo flustered but equally as pleased

also have you seen those arms?

he’s an excellent hugger nobody can change my mind

jihoon can tell there’s something on your mind. you keep looking over at him from your place on the couch as he works, sometimes opening your mouth like you’re about to say something but then changing your mind last minute. and when it happens for the seventh time — yes, he counted — he finally turns to you, sliding off his headphones with raised eyebrows.

“can i help you?” he asks, teasing lilt to his tone.

you’re already looking at him with widened eyes. jihoon cocks his head to the side — when you pull out the puppy gaze, it means you want something. unfortunately for him, he gives in every time.

(how can he help it, when you look like that?)

“hug?” you say hopefully, voice pitched a little higher than usual.

he should have guessed. jihoon opens his arms with a mock sigh, gesturing for you to come and sit on his lap — ignoring both your satisfied smile and his warmed cheeks.

DOKYEOM.

his smile itself feels like a fucking hug so. idek where to start. this man is a safety net :(

HES SO WARM i feel like he gives the best cuddles

loops his arms all the way around you and squeezes to make you laugh too

“seokmin~! i need a hug!” you declare, the moment you step into the house. you might say it dramatically, but you mean it entirely — today has sucked ass. “i demand it, even!”

at your greeting, seokmin sticks his head out the kitchen, lips already curved into a gentle smile. “what happened, angel?” he soothes, opening his arms and entangling you in his embrace.

“bad day. awful.” you describe shortly, already leaning into him gratefully. “less talking. more hugging.”

“yes, boss!” he mock salutes over your shoulder, giggling as he tightens his grip, and with the sound of his laughter, the burdens of today seem to fall away — at least for a short while, you’ve found your reprieve.

SEUNGKWAN.

he will drop anything and everything to give you what you need and that makes me UPSET

always goes into full caretaker mode AHHH i love him

probably sways you guys back and forth when you hug

seungkwan takes one look at your sleepy form in his doorway, and he freaks.

by freaks, you mean he pulls you inside, kisses your cheek in greeting, and scolds you for not wrapping up warm enough, all in the space of a minute. and then he’s cupping your face with warm hands. “what happened, baby? you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

you scrunch your nose sleepily. “sorry. i missed you.”

“aish, don’t apologise, just come here,” he grumbles, to hide the embarrassingly delighted smile growing across his face.

“warm,” you say drowsily, as you lean into his embrace with droopy eyes and slightly slurred words. “best hugger. you’re the best hugger, seungkwannie, you know that? you’re my favourite hugger.”

he kisses your forehead then, with a soft murmur against your skin. “yeah, baby. you’re my favourite too.”

an requested by an anon who read the hhu version!! i hope you like it @ anon, let me know!! 💗💗💗

[celestialsoyeon]

I would like to order a Woozi sickfic.Maybe there was a virus in the company and as he usually stays late working he got infected because of his low defenses and when he comes home he feels sick but he ignores it and the next day when he gets up he has a fever and an upset stomach but he decides to hide it during the day. But as the day progresses he feels worse and dehydrated because of how much he has vomited so he ends up asking one of the boys for help and they take care of him and take good care of him.

Hiiii! Here's the headcannon you asked for! I'm not sure whether it's good or not, but I did my best! Happy reading, I hope the person who asked this will like it! Love y'all!

Summary: Woozi always works until late at night at his studio at the company. One night, he feels sick while getting back home. He doesn't think much of it and just tries to sleep it off. The next morning, it's even worse, but he tries to hide it until he can't anymore.

word count: 1,72k

content warnings: sickness, obviously, vomiting, fever, dehydration, kinda delirious/half-conscious, needles/IV

Sickie: Woozi

Caretaker: All the other members, especially Mingyu

Jihoon had been staying late basically every single day since the beginning of this week. He had to. If he didn't who would? And he had a lot of work to do, with the upcoming album release coming up at the end of the month. He had no time to waste chilling or sleeping.

He knew he was pushing himself too hard and that he would end up collapsing, but he didn't care. Not when the group's career could be at jeopardy if he decided to be lazy. He couldn't afford to fall back on his work right now, and he kept working until his eyes were drooping.

When he noticed that, he got up and gathered his things, intending to go back home, deciding that it was enough. He raised his head, glancing at the clock. It was 3 A.M.

He was lucky that Seungcheol had fallen asleep as soon as he got back to the dorms, too tired to even keep his eyes open for five more minutes. He hadn't been sleeping a lot lately, too busy taking care of Seungkwan and his recurring nightmares. Otherwise he would've gotten scolded, as every single time Seungcheol saw him coming back so late at night.

He let out a sigh and walked back to the dorm, putting on his jacket. As he was walking back to the dorm, the only place he would be able to sleep peacefully and get some well-deserved rest, he started feeling uneasy. His stomach was hurting him a bit and he felt a bit sick.

He decided to ignore it. There was no way he'd wake up Seungcheol neither Soonyoung just because he had an upset stomach. Maybe sleeping it off would work and tomorrow would be better?

He just went to bed, careful not to wake Soonyoung up. The dancer was fast asleep and waking him up was really the last thing he wanted. Soonyoung wasn't sleeping a lot either, and although it had always been like that since predebut, Jihoon still didn't want to disturb his sleep. He'd rather throw up all night alone in the bathroom than wake up any of the asleep members.

He laid down in bed, looking at the ceiling, struggling to fall asleep. The pain in his stomach grew stronger. "I'll be fine.. I'll be just fine.. no need to worry them.." He whispered. Soonyoung was too deeply asleep to hear him. And Jihoon ended up falling asleep too. He was too exhausted to even think he'd be able to stay awake for much longer anyway. He hugged tightly the plushie Seungkwan gifted him for his birthday last year, and fell into a deep slumber.

A few hours passed before it was time to get up. When the alarm of his phone rang, Jihoon couldn't help but let out a small whimper. His head was killing him after hearing that sound first thing in the morning. And as if it wasn't enough, his stomach was feeling worse than last night, if it was even possible.

He still got up and acted fine when seeing the other members, despite feeling his stomach churning. Seokmin and Mingyu tried to get him to eat something, but Jihoon just said he wasn't hungry and got ready for work. They had vocal practice in the morning, dance practice in the afternoon, it should be fine, right? He would feel better already.

No. No he didn't feel better. If anything, it got worse.

He still tried to hide it and focus on his work throughout the day, but some of the members were already starting to understand that something was wrong with him. Seungcheol came to check on him, but Jihoon still acted as if everything was fine.

Ten minutes later, he was in the bathroom, throwing up his guts out.

He went back to the others, still acting as if everything was fine.

As they practiced the choreography Soonyoung was teaching them, Jihoon felt even worse and went to the bathroom again. He threw up again, and more than once, at that.

He felt feverish and couldn't even drink. This time, he knew he couldn't hide that anymore. He had to tell them. He had to call for someone. But when he tried to get up, he was too weak to do so. He fumbled in his pockets for a moment, looking for his phone, finding it upon seconds.

But another wave of nausea hit him as he was going to dial Seungcheol's number. He threw up again, and after five other excruciating minutes of throwing up, he could finally call for help.

Seungcheol answered at the first ring.

" 'Hoon? Where are you? Are you alright?"

Given the tone of his voice, he was obviously worried. Very worried. Jihoon answered as best as he could.

"I.. Hyung.. I think I'm sick.. I'm not feeling good.."

"Where are you? I'll get you back home okay?"

"Y..yeah.. I'm.. in the bathroom.."

"I'm coming right away, I'll be with Mingyu, we're getting you back home."

The leader addressed the other members.

"Guys, can someone get Jihoon's belongings and call a doctor to come at the dorm. Tell them we'll be there in around... maybe half an hour? If Hoon doesn't get any worse?"

There was some approving responses from everyone, but Jihoon could barely hear them. He felt more and more tired, that was most likely because of the fever, Jihoon knew it was anything but a good sign. He heard the other members' voices but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Mingyu and Seungcheol both ran to the bathroom, arriving soon at Jihoon's side. Mingyu quickly assessed the situation.

"Uh-oh.. that's not good.. We need to lower his body temperature as soon as we can before he gets delirious or even worse, starts having fever-induced seizures. Believe me, you don't want to have to deal with that shit."

Seungcheol nodded, and held Jihoon's body bridal style, getting him to the van. The motion of the car made Jihoon's sickness even worse and they had to pull over twice so he could throw up again. But after what felt like an eternity, they were back home.

Mingyu carefully laid Jihoon in his bed, and checked on him again. He looked dazed and mumbled incoherently when Mingyu was asking him questions, trying to assess how conscious he actually was.

The answer was that he was out of it. His eyes were open, but he paid no attention to what was happening around him. He didn't mind the cold and wet towels put on his neck and on his forehead. He didn't pay attention to Mingyu shaking his shoulders and call his name. He was there, but barely.

The other members were acting swiftly to take care of Jihoon, preparing soup, water, medications, pillows, plushies. Seungcheol had stayed there, sitting down at Jihoon's bedside, a bucket on the ready in case JIhoon was to throw up again.

He didn't. But he was still very feverish. And that got Seungcheol worried to death. He ended up getting up, pacing nervously in the room. Jeonghan and Seokmin even had to get him out of the room, because he was too stressed out.

They didn't want Jihoon to get anxious or anguished on top of being sick. He was already badly sick, that was enough.

The doctor soon arrived, and just as the members, he looked alarmed by Jihoon's condition.

"We really need to lower his body temperature before he ends up having a seizure. And he needs fluids too, and nutrients."

"He can't eat though", Joshua said in a worried voice. "And even the medications would not stay down."

"We'll have to insert an IV line then. If we don't that might endanger him. But you don't have to worry, we can do it here and he will for sure get better as soon as he receives medication and the appropriate care. His condition doesn't require hospitalization. However, I want that guy at full rest for at least a week. He'll need a lot of rest to recover properly. And if he doesn't get better within the next few days, I want him to get checked properly." The doctor said, looking at them with a gentle but firm stare.

Joshua nodded, reassured by the doctor's words. Seungkwan looked horrified to be told that his hyung would need a goddamn needle into his arms, but the other members reassured him that it wasn't that much of a big deal.

Jihoon would be okay. They all were sure of it. After the doctor administered the necessary care, he left, and all the members relayed at Jihoon's bedside. As the hours ticked by, Jihoon got more lucid, he wasn't that out of it anymore. And that soothed a bit Mingyu who, among the members, was by far the most worried.

He had nearly panicked when the doctor said that Jihoon needed an IV, and Wonwoo had to explain to him, just as Joshua had done for Seungkwan, that it wasn't a big deal and that Jihoon would be just fine.

The first night was the hardest one. At first, Jihoon kept throwing up. But when the medications kicked in, it stopped and soon enough, Jihoon could eat a bit of food. Nothing much, but better than nothing.

Mingyu stayed the whole night with Jihoon, refusing to leave his side, too worried. But he hadn't anything to worry about. Not anymore.

The next day, Jihoon started to get better, though he needed a lot of rest. But he didn't have anything to worry about. His friends, no, his family was by his side to help him through it.

Mingyu was cooking for him, Wonwoo and Jeonghan most of the time keeping silent vigil by his side, the BooSeokSoon trio was usually coming to help him not get bored, and he could get Seokmin's hugs as much as he wanted. He usually didn't like physical touch, but when he was sick, he was basically asking hugs from his brothers. And Seokmin was more than happy to give him.

Little by little, he got better, and as he got better, his bond with his fellow members strenghtened even more than it already was. They would be able to return soon, and in good shape, to their not-so-peaceful but happiness-filled life.

[darl-ingfics]

Hiiiiii~ could I request a SVT (Dino) cold/snz fic, if you're okay with that? And could you make Seungkwan the caretaker?? Thank youuuu so muchhhhh!!

Hi anon!!! Thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with it once I got rolling, and I sincerely hope you enjoy!!!

Shower Sniffles

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Dino (cold)

Caregiver(s): Seungkwan (with a little Hoshi, Woozi, and Jun)

Word Count: 1,368

“Dino? Dino? CHAN!” 

The dancer opened his eyes with a start, looking around, fully disoriented. He was in the practice room. Soonyoung was kneeling next to him. When had he fallen asleep?

“You good, bro?” Soonyoung asked, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the concern in his eyes.

Chan nodded, blinking a few times to wake up. “Yeah. Just… tired I guess.” He chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

Soonyoung laughed too. “You want to call it a day? We’ve been here for…” He turned to his watch. 

Chan shook his head. “No. I want to get this choreo done.” Soonyoung looked at him skeptically. “Come on, hyung, we can crank this out. I’m okay, I promise.”

Chan was singing a very different tune as the two of them departed from the dance studio an hour and a half later. After falling asleep during their water break, an aura of fatigue had been clinging onto Chan, slowly his thoughts. Even as his body continued to move fluidly, effortlessly, his brain felt like it was on autopilot, sifting through waves of fog. Maybe he was just really, really tired. Maybe he should’ve agreed to stop dancing when it was offered. But he hadn’t, and now he was both mentally exhausted AND physically sore. 

At least Soonyoung had cuddled him the whole drive home. That had been lovely. 

As soon as they arrived back, Chan made his way to the shower, hoping the hot water would help relax his muscles. Not two seconds after he’d stepped under the steaming water, there was a knock at the door before the outline of someone’s head popped in.

“Whose in here?” Jihoon’s voice asked. 

“Dino!” “Mind if I brush my teeth?”

“Go for it.” His breath hitched suddenly, and he bent forward with a desperate, “Ht’che!” 

“You good, bro?,” Jihoon asked around his toothbrush.

“Yeah.” Chan sniffled, shaking his head to clear it. “Steam got to me.” 

“Well be careful.” Jihoon’s words were no less concerned despite still being interpreted around his toothbrush. “We don’t need anyone else slipping in there.” 

Chan laughed, instantly transported back to the night they’d all panicked that Seokmin had given himself a concussion. “I’ll be careful, hyung.” 

A statement that turned out much easier said than done. Even after Jihoon had bid Chan ‘goodnight’ and left the bathroom, the dancer couldn’t get his sinuses to cooperate. Maybe the steam really had gotten to him, as Chan found himself sneezing periodically as he rushed (carefully) to get out of the slippery tub. But if it was the steam, why was he feeling more and more congested every second? Shouldn’t he be feeling the opposite? Chan decided to worry about that later, and finish washing up. 

When Chan finally stepped out of shower, the cold air hit him like a train. As he wrapped his towel around himself, a shiver snaked up his spine, prompting two more sneezes. 

“Bless you, sweetheart,” Jun sing-songed as he breezed through the door, immediately walking to the sink. 

Chan sneezed a third time, stumbling forward.

Jun blinked in surprise, turning around. “You good, Channie?” Chan nodded. Jun’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure?” The older dancer’s hands had grasped the younger’s shoulders as he swayed slightly. Jun brushed a hand against his forehead. Not terribly warm, but…

Chan crumbled. He could never lie to Junhei. “No.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose. “Please don’t tell Jeonghan.”

Jun chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down Chan’s bare arms. “Wouldn’t dream of it. As long as you take some meds and go right to bed.” 

“Aye aye, captain,” Chan replied, waiting obediently as the elder man reached into the cabinet for said medicine. “This really snuck up on me.”

“Well, then that means you can sneak right back if you play your cards right.” Jun handed over the tiny cup of amber liquid, and Chan shot it back with little complaint. 

He only grimaced a little bit. “That didn’t make a lot of sense, hyung.”

Jun shrugged. “I’m not here to make sense. I’m here to make dollars.” 

“Okay. Love you.” Chan blew Jun a kiss, which the elder happily returned, before moving off towards his room. 

When Chan entered his room, he found Seungkwan sitting on his bed. “What are you doing here?”

Seungkwan looked up at him with the sweetest, sincerest puppy dog eyes. “Cuddles?”

“Not sure I’m the best candidate for that right now. Think I might be getting sick.” He sniffled immediately after, proving his point. 

Seungkwan shrugged. “All the more reason for snuggling then.” Chan shrugged in acquiescence. He moved to walk to the other side of the bed, pausing to sneeze twice, face buried in his hands. “Oh, baby.”

“Oh baby’s right,” Chan groaned, pulling his coziest pair of pajama pants from the dresser. Seungkwan hopped up, digging through Chan’s sweaters and pulling out his warmest hoodie, holding it out helpfully. Chan smiled, accepting the clothing, and turning around to get changed. Sure, they’d changed in front of each other plenty of times, but he didn’t feel good, dammit. And Seungkwan, bless his soul, immediately turned around to give Chan this bit of privacy, moving back to the bed where his laptop was waiting. 

Once dressed, Chan spun on his heels to address his friend again, immediately interrupted by another sharp itch in his nose. “He’tche! Etschu!” 

Seungkwan pouted. “Bless you.”

“Ugh.” Chan sniffled, rubbing his sleeve under his nose, too over it to feel gross. “I’m so tired of this.” He shuffled to the bed and collapsed next to Seungkwan, earning a laugh and a pat on the head from the vocalist. 

“Well buckle up, buttercup, cause it’s gonna get worse before it gets better,” Seungkwan replied as he opened his laptop and set it up on his legs. He pulled Chan into his side, and the dancer happily melted into the embrace, head resting on Seungkwan’s chest. 

Chan sniffled again. He nodded towards the side table. “Could you…?”

“On it.” Seungkwan placed the tissue box from the nightstand on Chan’s lap.

“Thanks.” Pulling away from Seungkwan, Chan blew his nose, hating how congested he still felt regardless. He collapsed back into Seungkwan with an annoyed groan. 

“You weren’t like this an hour ago.”

“I think the shower screwed me over.”

“Have you taken anything?”

Chan nodded. “Junnie-hyung made me take some Nyquil in exchange for not telling Hannie.” He snagged another tissue from the box, holding it against his nose, which was running more than he appreciated. 

Seungkwan snorted. “Hannie’s gonna find out.”

Chan glared up at him through his lashes. “No he’s not.”

“Oh, he is.”

“You’re not gonna tell him!”

“I don’t need to.”

Chan’s forehead creased. “Then how…” Without warning, Seungkwan tapped the bridge of his nose, and Chan was suddenly very glad he was already holding that tissue as he immediately sneezed three times and would’ve had zero time to cover otherwise. “What the FUCK!?”

“That’s how, dummy.” Seungkwan laughed despite Chan’s obvious pout. 

“You’re so mean,” Chan huffed. “I can’t wait to get you sick and then we’ll see whose laughing.”

Seungkwan, ironically, laughed at Chan’s threats. “Sure, sure, Channie-bug.”

“I mean it.” 

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t be in here right now. I would’ve left as soon as I made sure you got in bed.”

Chan paused, lips pursing together. “Did Jihoon put you up to this?”

Seungkwan shrugged. “That’s a strong word. Jihoon suggested I come and check on you. The cuddling was all my idea. He was nervous about you sneezing in the shower.” 

Chan rolled his eyes. “Seokmin almost gets a concussion one time…”

“And we have to pay the price for it for eternity.” Seungkwan kissed the top of Chan’s head, as if bringing an end to the conversation. “Now, I’m turning on a movie, and you’re going to sleep.” He pulled Chan back against his side, one hand wrapping up around the younger man’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. 

Chan sniffled. “And you’re a hundred percent sure you’re not worried about getting sick?”

Seungkwan’s smile was heart melting. “Cross my heart, bug. Cross my heart.”

[casuallyimagining]

Seventeen Masterlist

banner(s) by @caelesjjk

Choi Seungcheol

♠ seen "you know that makes no sense, right?" fluff | 561 words | domestic, caretaker, established relationship

Yoon Jeonghan

... coming soon!

Hong Joshua

♠ help "why don't you ever let me help you" fluff | 354 words | established relationship

♠ 7pm "be here with me" fluff | 621 words | established relationship, domestic

Wen Junhui

... coming soon!

Kwon Soonyoung

... coming soon!

Jeon Wonwoo

♠ something to defend "I built you a fort." fluff | 428 words | established relationship

Lee Jihoon (Woozi)

... coming soon!

Lee Seokmin

... coming soon!

Kim Mingyu

... coming soon!

Xu Minghao

♠ refuge "they're so loud" fluff | 592 words | established relationship

Boo Seungkwan

... coming soon!

Chwe Vernon

♠ what we have now vernon’s world has ended. in more ways than one. angst, fluff | 1,675 words | post-apocalypse, reunited lovers

Lee Chan

... coming soon!

[justkpopjokes]

I'll Be Your Eyes || pt. 1

AU: paraplegic!Woozi + blind!Wonwoo (ambiguous relationship? written as platonic but could be ship*) Word Count: 2.1k A/N: Another old concept from JANUARY 2018 😭 *debating on making this a ship fic but ik that’s more for ao3 than tumblr LOL we’ll see. Would love some input if you read through the whole thing! DISCLAIMER: I am not paralyzed or (permanently/fully) blind, so there are def a lot of day-to-day hardships I’m unaware of; I’m sorry if I misrepresent either of these two disabilities!

Dedicated readers know the Grimm Brothers’ story of Rapunzel, a princess stuck in her tower, waiting to be rescued by her prince who eventually throws himself from the tower and is blinded by rose thorns that await him at the bottom. But what if Rapunzel was trapped in their weakened body and the prince was blind to begin with?

Before Jihoon met his prince, his entire world was a small room—his tower, so to speak.

It took one unfortunate car accident as a kid for both of Jihoon’s legs to become completely paralyzed. The crash was so bad that people were surprised he survived at all, let alone escape with only his legs lost. He may have survived, but Jihoon doesn’t feel like he’s living anymore.

Why would he? All he can do is sit in bed and do whatever he wants…given that it doesn’t require getting up. Anytime he needed to as a kid, someone—usually his dad—would carry him on their back. Nowadays, he has to struggle onto his deteriorating wheelchair and push himself along. He doesn’t have that many friends who live nearby who could help him out and his parents were usually working to help pay for his needs and college tuition.

But the worst problem of all is that it’s boring in bed! Sure, he doesn’t need to stay there all the time, but there were many stretches of his life spent in hospitals or recovering where he had nothing to do.

But maybe calling it “boring” is just a lack of motivation talking. So, to deal with this issue, Jihoon takes up music. He loves composing and writing songs and, man, he is good at it. He starts creating instrumentals from his bedroom and uploads them online, garnering a bit of attention—not enough to make a living, but it definitely cheers him up seeing people enjoy his creations.

But he can only spend so much time on his laptop or playing instruments before he gets tired of everything within arm’s reach.

What he truly longs for is the great outside. He only gets a sliver of the outside world and natural light through his window where, on sunny days with clear skies, birds pass by and he can try finding shapes in the clouds.

Thankfully, he has books. He has never been too fond of reading, especially since he has to read way too many textbooks while attending community college online. But recently, books have become his escape. Books can take him anywhere in the universe all while staying in one place. He slowly grows a habit of getting lost in them and hyperfixating, finishing so many books that he requests more from the disability support group that helps him.

His primary caretaker who visits him when his parents aren’t around, an older woman called Miss Nam, gives him her selection of recommendations from the library each week. He adores her for it.

One Sunday afternoon, he’s waiting for Miss Nam to stop by with some lunch and his weekly selection of library books.

“Jihoon!” She calls for him as she enters his family’s home. “I want you to meet someone.”

Jihoon furrows his brows as he hears Miss Nam. A guest? She never brings guests.

He can only stare when Miss Nam walks into his bedroom with a small stack of books and a tall boy around his age. The stranger walks in awkwardly, gripping Miss Nam’s arm.

“This is Wonwoo,” Miss Nam introduces, walking the young man up to the side of his bed. “He’s another person I help. I thought it would be nice to bring him out of the house today, so we’re just stopping by. Maybe you could read a story to him while I prep lunch for us all?”

When Jihoon looks at Wonwoo, the first thing he notices is how the new boy keeps looking around his room. He pays no attention to Jihoon, his gaze flitting around the room in what honestly feels like an invasion of privacy despite Jihoon having nothing to hide.

When Miss Nam sees this behaviour, she taps Wonwoo’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head forward to Jihoon’s bed. The tall boy waves timidly in Jihoon’s direction.

“Wonwoo’s blind,” Miss Nam explains before moving Wonwoo’s hand from her arm to the bed frame. “He has cataracts in his eyes.”

I guess that explains why he hasn’t looked me in the eyes and his look glazed over, Jihoon thinks. If he’s being completely honest, Wonwoo’s eyes look oddly pretty, even with the whitish film over them.

Jihoon sits still in bed as Miss Nam steps out into the kitchen to make lunch, leaving the door open. He doesn’t move, his eyes trained on Wonwoo. It’s like he’s trying to figure out if Wonwoo is really blind, even if there’s no doubt about it considering the cloudy whiteness of his mature cataracts.

“H…Hi,” Wonwoo mumbles, his head angled down towards his hand, which is still holding the headboard of Jihoon’s metal bed frame.

“…Hi,” Jihoon responds after a moment.

Wonwoo’s lips quirk up the teensiest bit from that one word.

“Miss Nam said you like reading books,” Wonwoo says, a gentle smile on his face.

“Yeah. Did you…want me to read one for you?”

Wonwoo nods his head. “Yes, please.”

Jihoon exhales, reaching for the first book on the stack Miss Nam set on his nightstand. It’s a Korean translation of Grimms' Fairy Tales. He turns the pages to the first story.

When Jihoon starts reading the book aloud, the awkward young man beside him seems to relax a little. Wonwoo is smiling as he listens to the words roll off Jihoon’s tongue like a waterfall.

By the time they have read through two stories, Wonwoo has moved onto the edge of the bed, shoes off and hugging his knees to his chest. Jihoon can’t see his entire face at this angle, but he can tell Wonwoo is smiling.

“Do you have other books?” Wonwoo asks between chapters.

“Yes, why?” Jihoon responds, closing Grimms' Fairy Tales for now.

“Do you have The Hobbit? We could read it and play some of the music from the movies.”

Jihoon only nods—and quickly realizes his error.

“Yes,” he answers aloud, “I have that book in here somewhere, but I can’t reach it from my bed.”

“Can I help?” Wonwoo asks, his head turned towards Jihoon.

Jihoon furrows his brows, doubting it.

Mere minutes later, he’s verbally guiding Wonwoo to his bookshelf right next to his bed. Wonwoo has his hand against the lines of books, slowly dragging his fingers across the line until Jihoon tells him to stop.

“There.”

At Jihoon’s word, Wonwoo’s hand slides up and tilts the book out of the shelf, cautiously feeling around to get back to the bed and hand the book to Jihoon.

Their fingers graze over each other as Wonwoo hands the book off, and Jihoon notices the other man flinch and gulp from shock. Jihoon chooses not to comment on it out of politeness.

Jihoon reaches for his phone, starting to play the soundtrack from The Hobbit. Wonwoo settles back on the edge of the bed, ready to listen again. He gets into a steady pace with the music and Wonwoo looks overjoyed at the words.

Jihoon stops after the first chapter, taking a break as the music continues.

“Can we read something else?” He asks Wonwoo.

“Why? Do you not like this book?” Wonwoo pouts a bit.

“No—I mean, I do like it, it’s just that I’ve read it so many times before… It gets kind of boring.”

“How is it boring? It’s amazing,” Wonwoo defends, though not in a combative way. “There are so many descriptive words, the scenery is so vast and big, from the mountains to Rivendell to Rohan… Middle Earth is so beautiful.”

Jihoon raises a brow at that. Wonwoo speaks as if Middle Earth from the book were a real place.

Wonwoo continues to describe what he can see in his mind; how he can smell, hear, and almost touch all the things Jihoon described while reading.

That’s when Jihoon realizes how life is for this young man. He can’t see with his eyes, but within his brain is a whole other world.

The two take a break from reading to eat the lunch Miss Nam cooked. She sits with them in Jihoon’s bedroom and they all eat together, still listening to the music playing.

Despite his earlier reluctance to continue the book, Jihoon reads one more chapter to Wonwoo before it’s time for Miss Nam to take him home.

He had made a new friend. A friend who could show him the world that he couldn’t go out to see for himself.

A few weeks pass after Wonwoo’s visit. Jihoon can’t stop thinking about him. He can’t bring himself to pick up The Hobbit again, yet he hasn’t moved it from his nightstand either. The book lies there, waiting to be read aloud.

He doesn’t ever say it to himself—not even in his mind—but he’s waiting for Wonwoo to come back so they can read it together.

But how? It didn’t seem like he left home often. Regardless, he’d have to ask Miss Nam to bring him, seeing as they hadn’t exchanged contact information. Somehow he’s embarrassed to ask her.

To compromise his nerves, he decides to text Miss Nam. It’s just a simple text asking for Wonwoo’s phone number, or if he even has one, but it feels so invasive somehow.

He waits for a response with his phone face-down on his lap, feeling like his whole body is paralyzed now and not just his legs.

A ping from his phone finally snaps him out of it. He quickly flips his screen over and sees that Miss Nam has texted him a phone number.

He inputs the number into his messaging app, hesitating before sending a first text.

Jihoon: Is this Wonwoo?

Jihoon lets his phone rest on his lap again. Why am I so nervous? Miss Nam wouldn’t give me the wrong number…damn it, I should’ve mentioned her in the text.

Before he can ruminate any longer, his phone pings again.

###-####: Yes. Are you Jihoon? Jihoon: Yeah I asked Ms Nam for ur number Wonwoo: Hi. I’m glad you did. Is there a specific reason?

Jihoon read the text a few times as he tried to think of a response. Would it sound desperate if he asked him to come over? He definitely shouldn’t say he missed him. It’s probably best if he doesn’t lead with either.

JH: Not particularly JH: Just felt like saying hi WW: Can I call you? It’s hard for me to text. I have to use speech-to-text.

Jihoon mentally face-palms at that. He face-palms in real life as well to scold himself for being so ignorant. Of course the blind man would prefer to call over text. Jihoon doesn’t even text a response, deciding to press call and hope he won’t fumble any other way.

“Hello?” He’s greeted by Wonwoo’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey,” Jihoon responds, his heart pounding for some reason.

“It’s nice hearing your voice again,” Wonwoo says. Jihoon can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“You too.”

Jihoon takes a breath, deciding to just go for it.

“I texted you because I was wondering if you’d like to read The Hobbit together again?” Jihoon suggests, his words coming out a little fast.

There’s silence for a moment and Jihoon can’t help but dread the answer, even if it ends up being a good one.

“Well, I can’t read it,” Wonwoo answers.

Jihoon mentally face-palms again. He could’ve worded that better.

“Sorry, I meant me reading it to you. If you’d like—would you like me to read—”

“I was joking,” Wonwoo interrupts, sounding amused. “I know what you meant. Yes, I’d like to hear you read.”

“Oh.”

Jihoon’s glad they’re on a phone call so Wonwoo can’t see how red his face is. Actually, he wouldn’t be able to see even if they were beside each other…

“We don’t need to put on music for today, I’ll just listen to your voice,” Wonwoo says, recognizing the silence on Jihoon’s end.

Jihoon responds with a simple “okay” before grabbing the book on his nightstand. He wipes the dust off of the cover before opening it to chapter three. He reads for a while, getting lost between the lines of words even though he has read them so many times.

When he reaches the end of the chapter, he checks his phone again to make sure the call hasn’t dropped.

“Wonwoo?” He says.

“Hm?” The other man answers.

“Just checking you’re still there.”

“I am. Just listening.”

“Should I keep reading?”

“Yes, please.”

So Jihoon keeps reading, a smile on his face as he speaks clearly into the phone and dives into a whole world with Wonwoo by his side.

[obsessedwithkpopfics]

Sickie: Woozi

Caretaker: Hoshi

Hoshi p.o.v

It wasn't often that Woozi was this bad at dancing. Yes, it sounds horrible, but I don't know how else to describe it. It was like he lost all sense of rhythm overnight. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who noticed though because halfway through our practice Chan stopped, "Jihoon hyung, focus!" Woozi didn't even seem to notice he was being spoken to. He continued to stare at the wall as if he was waiting for something to happen. I went over to him, "Jihoon!" I tapped his shoulder. He flinched, and I mentally noted how strange he was acting. He glanced at me, "What's going on? Your moves are so off today." He mumbled an apology. "It's okay, just try and focus better." It seemed like my words weren't going through to him. I looked around at Chan, trying to explain the situation to him. He looked just as confused as I did. "Okay, let's just take a break, everyone take 5."

Woozi p.o.v

Ever since I woke up, I knew it wasn't gonna be a good day though I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. My head felt stuffy and it seemed difficult to keep my eyes open. Well, I still had to go to practice so I pushed the uneasy feeling to the back of my mind and started getting ready for the day. I internally groaned when Cheol told us we were gonna have a dance practice as well as the group recording today. This day was really not working out for me. Dance practice was pure torture. I managed to annoy even Chan who was known to not get mad no matter how much you mess up the choreography. While he was talking to me possibly about how much I was messing up, I began zoning out. There was an ever-present tickle at the back of my sinuses, and my head was stuffed up making it very difficult to focus. It got to the point where Soonyoung had to come up and tap my shoulder to get my attention. He asked me what was wrong and told me that my moves were off. "I'm sorry," I whispered and I didn't think he could hear. He told me it was fine before announcing to the group to take a break.

I was relieved that Hoshi called for a break because I really needed to blow my nose. Plus another four hours of sleep would be nice, but I'd settle for a tissue right now. I informed Cheol that I had to use the bathroom. I went to the nearest one and took a handful of paper towels and blew my nose. I cringed at the feeling. Glancing at my phone, I realized I had 3 mins left. I blew my nose again and stuffed some tissues into my pocket. Leaving the bathroom, I was about halfway to the practice room when the tickle that had been bothering me all morning decided to fully come out. "Hhktchhu!- Hektchuh!- hh-Hhtkcchu!-"

"Bless you." I flinched at the voice. It was a girl's and it came from behind me. I turned around and saw one of the Le Sserafim members, (Chaewon, I think was her name) "Thank you."

"Are you alright, Sunbaenim? You're kinda pale." She looked concerned. I smiled at the young girl's concern, "Yes, just a cold." She nodded. "Feel better, Sunbae."

"Thank you." She bowed and walked into the bathroom. Once she left, I took a few of the tissues out of my pocket and blew my nose. It was already starting to hurt, the skin around my nose growing raw. I cringed and sniffled one last time before I went back to the practice room.

"You're late," Soonyoung said, his arms crossed over his chest. I glanced at the clock, "By like 1 minute."

"Still." he looked half irritated, half concerned. "Well sorry!" I shook my head, feeling irritated at him. It's just a minute for goodness sake. I rolled my eyes to myself. "This isn't like you Jihoon. You're a lot more serious than this. I don't know what's gotten into you. If you think, just because you write our music, you get to slack off, I'm sorry. In my opinion, everyone here is practicing hard except you and I would like you to be serious." That little speech made me completely lose my patience because frankly, I'd had enough of Soonyoung nagging me that day. "Who the hell gave you the right to decide who's slacking off and who's not?! I may be off today and everyone has those days. Who the fuck are you to nag me about that! Just because you make the choreography doesn't mean you can belittle people who don’t pick up on it quickly. Heck, Chan's definitely a better teacher than you. At least he tries to sympathize with his members, unlike you who's stuck in his own fucking world where everything's perfect. Well, I'm sorry to crush your dreams but everything in this world can't be done according to you!" Every single member went silent and stared at us. Soonyoung's eyes were damp with what looked like tears. I instantly regretted what I said. "Soonyoung-"

"I think we're done for today." he interrupted me, his voice cold. The entire room fell into a heavy and awkward silence. "Let's head back to the dorms," Cheol said, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. The whole group began moving. Little conversations broke out between the members, but Soonyoung remained silent. I went over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Soon-"

"Jihoon, I don't really want to talk to you right now and I would like you to respect that." I nodded. I felt guilty, but I couldn't blame him.

On the way to the car, I stopped by the bathroom to blow my nose in private. I felt bad that I had lost my temper like that, I didn't want to make it worse by drawing unnecessary attention to myself.

Hoshi p.o.v

I was hurt, I felt like crying, a bit angry, but above all just confused. I couldn't figure out what I'd done to make Jihoon snap like that. Like, yeah, I was a bit irritated but I didn't think I deserved… all that. This was one of the very few actual fights I had with Jihoon. Sure we bickered sometimes but Jihoon has almost never been this mad at me before. The thought itself made me wanna curl up into a ball and cry. I was very close to Jihoon, and the fight we just had was really breaking my heart. I know he probably didn't mean what he said to me, but a part of me wondered 'what if he did.' I think my obvious hurt and confusion were showing on my face as Cheol came up to me, looking concerned. "What happened back there?" The concern in the leader's voice made my eyes burn with oncoming tears which I quickly blinked back. "I don't know, hyung. I don't know what I did to make him that mad at me." Cheol patted me on the back comfortingly. "You okay?" I nodded, trying to force the tears away. "Maybe you should talk to him?" The leader suggested, "I really don't want to," I admitted quietly, "I understand that but maybe he had a good reason," Cheol said. I nodded, "Is he still here?"

"I think so. Think he's in his studio." I nodded, "So will you talk to him?" Cheol asked as he started leaving the room. "I'll try. Thanks hyung."

"No problem, I just want you guys to figure stuff out. I'd hate to see you guys fight."

"For the record, he started it." Seungcheol shook his head at me, "Just go talk to him," he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "The rest of us are heading back to the dorm. It's just you guys." I nodded, "If you need someone to pick you up just let me know and I'll send someone." "Thanks hyung."

"No problem. I gotta go. The others are waiting for me. But you go talk to him." I waved at the leader as he left.

Woozi p.o.v

Even though I was supposed to be heading back to the dorm, I took a detour to my studio. It felt more like home there anyway. There's also the fact that I didn't want to deal with the others just yet. This situation had been hard enough, I didn't need them making it an even bigger deal than it already was. Plus, there was also the fact that I was trying to hide a cold from them which wouldn't go too well, especially with how fast-moving it was. Right now, I could barely see anything as my eyes were watering so much, plus the ever-present tickle in my sinuses. I turned on my computer, in hopes of losing myself in the music when the tickle suddenly decided to make itself known. "Hhkktschu!- 'snf' Hettschu!- Hh..hkhhschu!-"

"Bless you, Jihoon-ah." I flinched at the voice and whipped around and saw Soonyoung standing in the doorway of my studio. "Soonnie I'm sorry," I stood up and walked over to him. "I didn't mean anything I said. And none of it is true. You're not a bad teacher and I know you were just trying to help. I'm really sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me." I was angry at myself as I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I quickly brushed it off, accidentally hitting my nose causing my breath to hitch once again, "HhkTCHhu!- HhtcHshuH!- HhktChHuh!- HhtKKtchu!-" I sniffled, feeling my sneezes get harsher than they were before.

"Bless you and I forgive you. And I'm sorry for losing my patience with you." I stepped closer and hugged him, he seemed a bit surprised, and I couldn't blame him, I wasn't really the clingy type. He let me hug him and wrapped his arms around my waist.

Hoshi p.o.v

Saying I was surprised by Jihoon's hug was an understatement. But what was even more surprising was the noticeable warmth I felt once I was touching him. I immediately placed my palm on his forehead, checking his temperature. "Jihoonie, you're burning up."

"I am? Hadn't realized." Said the producer. I internally groaned. This was so much like Jihoon. Ignoring and hiding any sign of weakness till it gets to this. "Okay, Ji, I need you to tell me how exactly you are feeling. And don’t lie, I can see right through that." I heard him sigh softly. "Okay, I feel awful, my head is stuffed up and I also have a slight headache, I can barely keep my eyes open. I also feel like I'm gonna sneeze any second, and my nose feels like a faucet I can't control." Wow, I didn't expect all that. 'He must have been feeling like this in dance practice too', I thought. No wonder he couldn't keep up with the rhythm if his head was stuffed up and he could barely see through his eyes. And no wonder he was late, he must've been blowing his nose or something as he was determined to hide this from the others. I mentally beat myself up again for getting irritated but Jihoon needed me and I couldn't wallow in self-pity right now. A soft gasp interrupted my thoughts as I looked down and saw Jihoon, his eyes closed, turning away from me, his breath hitching. "Ahh…hhtKSshu!- HhhktsCHuu!- HhHKtshuu!- HhktsCHhu!- Ugh, 'snf'-" I flinched at how harsh his sneezes had become in a matter of minutes, he must be exhausted.

"Bless you, c'mon let's get you home. You need rest, like a lot of it." Jihoon nodded as I took out my phone and called Cheol. He answered the call in about 2 rings. "Hey Soon, what's up?"

"Cheol, could you send one of the members to pick us up? Jihoon's sick." I said, giving Jihoon a quick glance, he looked half asleep already, and knowing Cheol, he probably knew that too. "Sure thing. See you then,"

"Bye," I said and cut the call. "Cheol is sending someone to pick us up," I said, turning to Jihoon.

"I was gonna finish this first though." He said sniffling against his wrist. "Jihoon, you're sick. You need t-"

"HhhktCShhu!- HhkKtcHHu!- HhttTchuH!-"

"Bless you. You need to go home and rest."

"I know. I'm just bad at resting sometimes, " He said, laughing lightly. I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. "I know. But let me help you relax. You need to rest. You'll never get better if you don't sleep." I handed him a tissue from the box on his desk, he thanked me and blew his nose wetly. I tried not to cringe but it sounded painful and messy. He coughed after, which sounded equally as painful. I patted his back. "You alright?"

"Sick." He said under his breath. I smiled and brushed the hair off of his face, "I know."

Woozi p.o.v

I knew Soonyoung was worried. He didn't show it too much so as not to overwhelm me but I could see that he was worried about me. It made me feel both happy that he cared about me and guilty for bothering him with something so small. He must've seen the change in my expression as he smiled softly, "Hey, it's fine. It's not your fault you're sick and I don't mind taking care of you." I smiled too. In a few minutes, a car had pulled up in front of my studio. "C'mon, let's go." I quickly gathered up my stuff, shut down my laptop and turned off the lights. When we got to the gate, I saw Jeonghan wave at us. I smiled at him slightly. "Hey, Seungcheol said you were sick. How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine, really hyung, it's just a bad- Hhh…hhtKStshuu!- HhkSHtshu!- 'snf' Hhh…hhhtskshCHu!- It's just a bad cold." I said, sniffling, my nose completely rubbed raw by now. "I can definitely see that," Said Jeonghan, patting my arm lightly. "C'mon, let's get you guys home." He said climbing into the car.

Hoshi p.o.v

I got in the back seat of the car and Jihoon climbed in after me. The manager looked in the rearview mirror, "Is he okay?"

"I-

"HhhktCShhu!-HhkKtcHHu!-HhttTchuH!-"

"Bless you, I think he's got a bit of a cold."

"Does he have a fever?" Jeonghan asked from the front. I reached over and placed my hand on his forehead, "Yep, feels like it," I noticed the way that Jihoon leaned into my touch. "We need to get you home and resting, ok." He sniffled, "Sounds good to me." He cleared his throat, "Can I take a nap on the way home?"

"Sure, Ji." I said, softly.

He laid his head on my shoulder and fell asleep quickly.

Once we arrived back at the dorm I gently shook his arm to wake him up. His eyes opened for a second as he looked around in confusion, before they fluttered shut and he ducked his head towards his shoulder. "Hh-ktchUH!-TCchu!-kktCHshu!-tTch!SHhu!-"

"Bless you!" I patted his shoulder. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes. His pink nose and pale skin made him look much younger and even cuter than normal. "Let's get you to bed, Ji," he nodded, attesting even further to how tired he was. "Thank you, Soonie," he said softly as I half carried him to his room, I smiled and kissed his forehead, "No problem. Just want you to feel better. " The two of us made it to his room, and I got him in bed. There was a bit of a struggle to get the half asleep sickie to change out of his sweaty practice clothes. But finally, I got him into his pajamas and into bed. He seemed very dazed as I did so, and when I moved to leave the room, I felt his small fingers wrap around my arm. "Please stay. I don't really want to be alone." I smiled softly. "Sure thing, Ji." I climbed into the bed next to him and allowed him to curl up with me. I smiled and began running my fingers through his hair. "Feel better, Jihoonie."

💖👾

[home-krp]

welcome home! the following applications have been accepted. to collect your keys, please add our caretakers, Rose and Serenity, within the next 24 hours or your home will be put back on the market! please make sure ‘home’ or '🏠’ is visible in your bio so we know you are a resident! park chanyeol ( exo ) hwang eunbi / sinb ( viviz ) lee chaeyoung / isa ( stayc ) lee jihoon / woozi ( seventeen ) lee hangyul ( bae173 )

[itsapapisongo]

world’s worst secret keeper

pairing: spider-man!hoshi x photographer!gender-neutral reader ft. sorcerer!woozi & sorcerer!the8

genre: dramedy | fantasy | superhero

word count: 10.3K

warning content: consumption of alcohol, language, mentions of assault, blood, low self-esteem, and suggestive themes

synopsis: when soonyoung accidentally reveals he’s the one and only spider-man to you, he anxiously asks a friend for a do-over. or the one where things don’t go according to plan and soonyoung thinks magic is the solution to a mess of his own making.

taglist: @husbandhoshi | @yangyanghater | @boo-tycall

I’M NOT HOME.

This is what Lee Jihoon—Disciple of the Mystic Arts, caretaker of the Seoul Sanctum, desperate for a good night’s sleep—is thinking as he’s awakened in the middle of the night and blankly stares at the ceiling. 

He gently shakes his head as if to shoo away whoever’s knocking on the front door. His lips are pursed in a tight, thin line of exasperated disapproval. His arms are comically crossed across his chest, just below his collarbone. He feels something pulling at his bedsheets, clenches his eyes shut, and pettily shakes his head with a grunt.

“Let Minghao deal with this,” he says to the darkness that envelops him and the rest of his room. “I’m not the only one living here.”

Suddenly, his bedsheets are violently pulled away and he’s forced to follow them. One second, he’s in his bed. The other he’s on the floor, groaning. Something tugs at his right leg, almost pulling off his sock, then begins to slowly drag him across the floor. Jihoon merely groans louder and aimlessly kicks at the air.

“Fine!” He reluctantly gets to his feet with a click of his tongue. “I’m going!”

Jihoon cleans himself up, blindly extends a hand to the side, and feels the summoned sling ring fly to his left hand; he wiggles his index and middle finger and adjusts it in place. He doesn’t need to turn on the lights to know where he’s going—he knows this room like the back of his hand—but he does stop at the door, turns, and sighs.

“Want to come with?” he asks, sounding defeated.

A shuffling sound lets him know that, yes, it does want to come with. He feels the Cloak of Levitation float above his head, descend, and then perch itself upon his shoulders. He shrugs, lets it get comfortable and rests his head on the door frame.

“This better be worth it,” Jihoon says and feels the Cloak of Levitation pat his right shoulder. He swings the door open and cracks his neck. “Or else I’m gonna lose it.”

∿∿∿

“OH-KAY,” JIHOON DEADPANS, squinting then rubbing his eyes. “I’m losing it.”

Before him, clad in a tight suit of red and blue, is none other than the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, rubbing his forehead, muttering to himself, and looking downright inconsolable. Exasperated, Jihoon takes a step forward, half his body in the Sanctum and the other on the Sanctum’s front step, looks left and right, then clicks his tongue.

“Get in,” he mutters, motioning a hand toward the foyer.

Spider-Man, to his surprise, merely looks up and sighs. “I think—uh—I think I effed up,” the webslinger mutters.

Jihoon pinches his forehead, muttering, “Just say ‘fucked up’ like an adult.”

“I—” Spidey begins but shrugs, pulling off his mask to reveal a youthful face framed under a messy head of silver-blue hair. “I need your help.”

“No shit.”

“Your—er—magical help.”

Jihoon looks up and blinks at him. He feels the cloak tugging on his shoulders and lifts his head up, as though to rage at the heavens, but relents and simply sighs for the nth time.

“Of course you do,” the sorcerer replies, reaching out to lay a hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder to slowly pull him inside. “Why else would you come in the middle of the night?”

∿∿∿

KWON SOONYOUNG—THE one and only Spider-Man, college student close to dropping out, desperate for catching a break—is very much aware of just how bad this looks. He’s been knocking on this weird place’s door for about ten minutes, sweating buckets, ignoring the bleeding cut above his left eyebrow, the ache in the small of his back, and the violent throbbing in his knuckles.

He’s aware that he’s a mess. He’s also very aware that he’s in a mess. Both are, rather unfortunately, consequences of his own actions—which means they could have been easily avoided. But nothing is ever easy for or with Soonyoung. He’s too stubborn to ask for help and too self-deprecating to admit he’s in over his head.

So when he decides to swing and stumble the rest of the way towards the tall brownstone with the round skylight in a street most people tend to avoid, he knows being stubborn won’t help him; it will only lead to self-sabotage. Despite being creeped out by this place, by how weird it is, he knows it’s the right move. 

Jihoon will know what to do. And so far, Soonyoung has been right. He’s grateful for taking a detour and knocking loudly and insistently enough until someone—preferably Jihoon, who did, in fact, answer—came to his aid.

“You’re tense,” Jihoon had muttered as they walked through the Sanctum. “I advise you to start loosening up because that room—” he pointed to a small door that’s shut close with six different chains, “—feeds on tension.”

Ten minutes ago, Soonyoung couldn’t stop mumbling. Now, much to his friend’s growing exasperation, he can’t seem to utter anything beyond a sheepish “thank you” or “I’m sorry.” He slouches on a bean bag chair, which he swears Jihoon conjured up out of thin air, and rests his head back as the grumpy sorcerer-in-training disinfects his bleeding eyebrow. He barely registers when Jihoon begins to suture the cut.

Soonyoung can’t help but be both thankful and embarrassed because, well, he never expected he’d end up here. He considers whether or not to tell Jihoon he has a healing factor that would naturally take care of his injuries. Part of him wants to tell him that he’ll be fine. But another part of him is pretty sure that Jihoon is aware of his superhuman physiology and is simply tending to the wound to avoid an infection.

“What happened?” he hears Jihoon ask.

Soonyoung blinks, remembers why his right hand hurts so much, and loosens his grip around his mask. Right, you’re on edge, he thinks to himself. You need to relax.

He lifts his head a bit to see his small, grumpy friend sitting above him, clad in casual attire not befitting of a practitioner of the Mystic Arts. He snorts at the sight of Jihoon sporting an asymmetrical red cloak upon his shoulders, an oversized and yellow ‘I Survived My Trip To New York’ crop-top, and black shorts while wearing slides with high white socks. Despite this and the apparent look of exhaustion in his eyes, Jihoon carries himself with a dignity and an aura of mysterious wisdom.

“What brings you to the Holy of Holies in the middle of the night?” Lee Jihoon asks, raising an eyebrow.

Soonyoung’s smile falters. He clears his throat and tries not to sigh, but he can’t; he heaves a sigh so heavy and laced with despondency that his entire body seems to sag with the weight of his anxiety.

 “It all happened so fast,” he whispers. “I was patrolling the streets, y’know? Came across a mugging, stopped it, and then—”

Soonyoung can perfectly see it: you’re walking alone, feeling like utter shit. You’re not close to your apartment nor far from the bar you just got fired from when two suspicious-looking individuals ambush you from either side of the empty street. You’re not paying attention to your surroundings. By the time you look up and see them, all attempts to cross the street and put some distance between yourself and these creeps are immediately thrown out the window when one of them nearly tackles you and drags you to a nearby alleyway.

Someone says something ominous, pushes you, laughs, then there’s the gleaming of a knife’s blade as the moonlight reflects off it. And what happens next is nothing but a blur of motion: one second these two assholes are harassing you, asking for your money and your phone and any other valuables, and the next one of them is stuck to a wall while the other is beaten to a pulp by your feet.

Soonyoung groans, cringing at the brutality he inflicted on those two creeps. He knows why he lost it: you were involved. You, who he cares for. You, who found who he really is at the worst possible time. You, who he sees as a reason to keep putting on the suit to stand up for the little guy. 

He thinks he took it too far, letting his feelings get in the way of his actions, but he considers that if Jihoon had been in your place, seconds from being mugged or stabbed, he wouldn’t have held back. But that couldn’t, shouldn’t, nor would it ever happen again. 

His whole shtick is literally being the Friendly Neighboordhood Spider-Man. If he goes around beating people up just because he can, he would be giving certain people a good amount of satisfaction and validating their impression of him. He can even read the headline now: ‘PAY EVIL UNTO EVIL: SPIDER-MENACE STRIKES AGAIN!’

He still sees the look of horror in your face. He can still hear your voice—the disbelief, the confusion, the panic—and clenches his eyes shut, muttering to himself for the nth time that he’s the world’s biggest idiot.

“Well, webs, if you’re gonna leave in suspense . . .” Jihoon mutters. “I need to see your hands.”

Stirred from his thoughts, Soonyoung frowns and leans his head further back into the bean bag chair to look up at Jihoon. His black hair, parted at the middle, cascades over his face and makes him look more pale than he actually is. The gleam in his eyes is both alluring and terrifying; there’s something in his gaze that lets Soonyoung know he’s seen things and learned to take them in stride.

Jihoon gives him a cursory, if impassive glance, suturing without looking or thinking too hard about it because he’s fully trusting his muscle memory. Once upon a time, Lee Jihoon had been studying medicine. He’d say that the profession chose him rather than he chose it, which was partly true; he wouldn’t admit, however, that it stemmed from childhood trauma. 

Soonyoung didn’t know the full story. He only knew that before graduating high-school, Jihoon lost someone close to him. Thereafter, he fostered an interest in medicine and was hyperfixated with becoming a surgeon. He was at the top of his class, devoted to not only his studies but the future he envisioned for himself. Lee Jihoon only thought of all the good he could do, all the lives he could save, and felt reassured that in spite of all adversity he faced along the way it would prove to be worth it. 

But, by sheer fate or cruel coincidence, mere days after the first time he put a scalpel to living flesh, mere days after feeling he had achieved something in the infancy of a promising career, everything changed. The pieces that had been falling into place were shattered after the accident. 

Everything else was a blur: the plunge into despair and the what-could-have-beens . . . the isolation that drove him to self-pity and self-loathing  . . . and ultimately the leap of faith that turned his life around.

Soonyoung barely feels his touch. Though the cut stings, he feels no pain whatsoever. It dawns on him that something as simple as suturing is so ingrained in Lee Jihoon’s very being that no matter how long it’s been or how damaged his own hands are he can still perform with delicate and professional ease.

“Why?” Soonyoung asks, rubbing his hands together, wincing as he touches his knuckles. “Why do you need to see my hands?”

Jihoon purses his lips, as though relenting from saying something, and simply offers a tight smile. “It’s just a hunch.”

“Are you sure it’s a hunch and not a kink?” Soonyoung asks, slowly and uncomfortably taking off his gloves, half his body slouching further on the bean bag chair. Through his periphery, he notices the annoyed look on his friend’s face and smiles sheepishly. “I’m not kink-shaming! I’m genuinely curious.”

“I know saying the first thing that comes to mind helps you fight the nerves,” says Jihoon, dabbing the webslinger’s brow with an alcohol swab, “but save it for later.”

Soonyoung winces and exhales through his mouth. “If not now, when?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows only to groan and bite his lip.

Jihoon makes a face, his eyes not quite narrowing or squinting but definitely displaying aggravation. He cleans his hands with a rag, slightly painting it red, then tosses it over Soonyoung’s head and watches as a mesh wastebasket moves on its own to catch it.

“Did that just—”

“Hands.” Jihoon commands, unfazed, and proceeds to cup his own hands against his chest and rub them together, all while walking around the bean bag to kneel in front of his reluctant patient. “Let’s see them.”

Soonyoung complies, if only to stop being bossed around. He stretches his hands forward, feels Jihoon’s touch and winces. That’s when he notices just how swollen and bloodied his knuckles are. Jihoon examines them, his eyes focused on the bruised hue that has settled and spread atop Soonyoung’s knuckles and proximal phalanges.

“This is going to be painless.” Jihoon very gently squeezes his friend’s wrist and tilts his head side to side as if to crack his neck. “Is what I’d say, if I were a liar.”

“What do you mean?”

Jihoon doesn’t even pretend to smile. “That this,” he points to Soonyoung’s knuckles, “is gonna hurt like motherfucker.”

“Wha—”

He doesn’t finish. Instead, he interrupts himself and shrieks as he feels Jihoon pull—no, yank—on his left hand’s thumb and index finger. A cold sensation ebbs and flows through his skin, spreading across his wrist then reaching his forearm . . . his elbow . . . and ultimately his entire shoulder; when the sensation flows back to the tip of his fingers, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever felt in his life.

He can’t hear himself scream nor can he feel his own body; he can only contort as every muscle spasms at a discordant rhythm. An overwhelming wave of agony washes over him and stops as quickly as it rolls over him like foam returning to sea.

“Nearly there,” he hears Jihoon say, his voice distant and echoing in his head as if coming from a badly tuned radio. “Deep breath.”

Soonyoung feels whole again, if only for a moment, and breathes in. Without thinking, as though in a trance, he deeply inhales through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth.

“I’m gonna count to three and do it again, okay?” Jihoon pats him in the knee and grasps his right hand.

Soonyoung blinks. “Oh-kay.”

“Alright.” Jihoon nods, smiles, then exclaims, “Three.”

The last thing he sees before passing out is the cloak upon Jihoon’s shoulder move, as if it’s alive.

And then . . . nothing.

∿∿∿

YOU’RE STIRRED FROM your sleep by the smell of something burning—or, at least, something that’s fire-adjacent—but it’s the warm breeze that finally makes you sit up in bed. You groggily open your eyes to see a man standing right in front of your bed, partly enveloped in the darkness of the room and partly illuminated by some dim-lighting that resembles the glow of a torch. 

Before you can say anything, before it even registers that there’s a stranger in the room, you notice that he’s stepping out of a crackling, swirling orange circle that neither touches the ceiling or the ground. Is that a—it can’t be a portal, you think, mouth slightly ajar, eyes squinted in disbelief.

Just when you think you can’t be more skeptical, you notice that the stranger is wearing an oversized crop-top, black shorts, tall socks, and slides and a rather fancy cloak upon his shoulders. You begin to think you’re losing it and scoff at the sight of him staring back at you, his lips pursed into a thin line. After the week you’ve had, who can blame you if you can’t take him seriously?

You slowly realize that this cloak-wearing stranger looks adorable—and awfully familiar. When he speaks, it’s in a soft voice. He even calls you by your name, seemingly aware of who you are because it says it with certainty and familiarity.

“Are you giving tickets to something?”

The man frowns. “No,” he mutters. “What makes you think that?”

“I thought you were a door-to-door magician.” You blink, slowly feeling your groggy mood shifting to weary skepticism. “Like—uh—like a doctor who does house calls but with magic.”

“I’m neither,” he replies in a chastened voice, like someone who’d rather change the conversation rather than respond directly. “I know this is strange but I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

“W-why?”

“It involves Spider-Man.”

Suddenly, you’re wide awake. It all clicks and you realize why he’s so familiar. It’s because you’ve seen him before with Soonyoung—with Spider-Man.

“Oh,” you manage to whisper.

He smiles smugly, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replies in a measured voice, “oh.”

∿∿∿

THOUGH YOU’RE CERTAIN you have your emotions in check, Jihoon seems not only to notice but feel your anxiety; he says it’s palpable. You scoff because there’s no way he can possibly feel that, but the look he gives makes you think he’s scrutinizing you from the inside out. 

Jihoon offers you something to drink and you blurt out that a cup of coffee would be fine. He nods, suddenly half-smiling, his eye gleaming with something akin to mischief. A second later, without delay, he’s off to brew some coffee. He defies your expectations and imagination by using magic instead of walking through the door like mere mortals would. 

He extends his left hand, draws a circle in the air, and a crackling, swirling portal opens mere inches from where he stands. Very casually, Jihoon steps through it and leaves it open as he moves around a rather modern-looking kitchen. It’s then that you notice that the cloak upon his shoulders isn’t an ordinary cloak. It moves on its own accord, opening a drawer and the refrigerator to look for and pass sugar and milk to Jihoon.

In the blink of an eye, he steps right back through the portal, which closes itself on its own, and offers you a tankard-shaped mug. As you thank him, he sits opposite you on an old, silken futon that you swear hadn’t been there a second ago.

The smell of coffee loosens the knot in the pit of your stomach. You take a sip and feel the creeping and confusing anxiety that had overwhelmed you just minutes before disappearing.

“This is one of the best coffees I’ve ever had,” you whisper, grasping the tankard mug with both hands. “It’s magic.”

Jihoon blinks then very slowly smiles a stiff, if polite smile. “You’re welcome,” he says, lifting a mug that in bold letters reads ‘[INSERT WORDS OF AFFIRMATION HERE]’ and takes a long sip from it. “You gotta thank Ruby for it.”

“Ruby?” you tilt your head, interested.

“Introduce yourself,” he whispers with a shrug. “Don’t be shy.”

The Cloak of Levitation springs from his shoulders and gently floats above his head. It slowly descends to his left, as if taking a seat next to him. He takes another sip from his mug and groans, squinting for a brief second, as the cloak sheepishly waves at you.

You snort against the coffee, burning yourself. “Is that—” you wince, feeling your tongue numb. “Did that thing just wave at me?”

“That thing is the Cloak of Levitation and it has a name.” Jihoon looks at you impassively. “Ruby.”

Before you can say anything, he then turns to glance at his cup and blinks at it. Almost immediately the distinctive sound of liquid filling a vessel echoes in the room and he half-smiles, satisfied.

 “That’s the ticket.”

“Did you just refill your coffee?”

“Yeah.” He sips from the cup then smiles. “But this isn’t coffee.”

“Then what is—”

“It’s soju.” Jihoon crosses his legs and clears his throat, his posture exuding impatience. “Now, pleasantries aside, you must be wondering why you’re here.”

“I have some idea . . .”

“You know who Spider-Man is.”

“I—” You open your mouth then close it, your eyes unconsciously widening in consternation. You sigh and clink the tankard mug with your nails. “I do.”

“I’m afraid you discovered his identity at a rather unfortunate moment.”

“Where is he?”

“Resting.” Jihoon raises his cup to take another drink but instead lowers it and sighs. “Would you like to see him?”

You do, but you don’t want to admit that. You’re still grappling with the fact that he’s Spider-Man and that he’s been keeping that little secret for the past three years. A part of you had always suspected something was going on, but it was ridiculous to even imagine that Soonyoung was a superhero—the very same one that had saved your hide more times than you could count.

But, lo and behold, the webslinger behind the mask was none other than your friend. The shock of seeing Spider-Man descend from above to beat the ever living shit out of the creeps that almost mugged you still clings to you. He’d been unrelentingly brutal and substituted his usual quips for angry grunts and pointed threats. It was if something had taken over, as if something had snapped, and he stopped holding back.

The moment one of the creeps pulled the mask off his face and you saw the look of unbridled anger in his face, you felt your heart sink. It wasn’t the violence as much as it was him being the one behind the mask—that he’d been putting himself in danger time and time again and hadn’t told you.

“You might wanna hold on to your coffee,” says Jihoon, getting to his feet. “I wouldn’t want you to drop it.”

“Wha—”

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself in another room. Your entire body is buzzing, as though you’d run a mile and then some but without the fatigue. It takes you a second or two to regain your balance.

“You okay?”

You blink, your eyesight making a gradual transition from blurry to crystal clear, and see Jihoon standing close by; he’s holding you by the elbow to prevent you from swaying in place. He guides you into a tall chair and pats your knee, all while nonchalantly sipping from his cup.

“While I fetch Soonyoung, take a second to gather your bearings.”

“Okay, sure, okay,” you reply, unconsciously drinking from your coffee. “Why not?”

As Jihoon opens a portal, you hear him grumble, “Vishanti give me strength.”

∿∿∿

“IT’S NEVER EASY, is it?”

“Unfortunately, Master Lee, it doesn’t get any easier.”

Jihoon glances over his shoulder to see Xu Minghao leaning on the door frame. Based on how he’s dressed and by the look of his wet auburn hair, Minghao has recently walked out of a late night shower. He’s casually munching on something, probably one of Master Wong’s trail mixes, and seems to be in a rather amused, if aloof mood.

“I’m still a Disciple,” says the oldest of the two. “You have a better chance of being ascended as a Master than I do.”

Minghao half-smiles and brushes his fringe off his face. “I doubt that,” he disagrees. “Wong says that if and when he kicks the bucket, you’re the only person he’s comfortable with taking over his duties.”

“The sheer amount of misplaced faith you both have on me is staggering.”

“Believing in someone.” Minghao chuckles, shaking his head. “What a radical, mind-boggling concept, huh?”

Yup, what a concept. Jihoon rubs his hands together and feels them tremble with increasing intensity the more he tries to control the tremors. He whispers a mantra to himself and traces his digits across the scarring on his hands, which cover most of his palm, knuckles, fingers, and cuticles. He’s reminded of the agonizing pain he experienced in the beginning and how little he thinks about it now; it’s still present yet silent, like an old friend used to not being acknowledged because their presence is nonetheless felt.

Jihoon feels Minghao inching closer and hears him make a sound akin to disbelief. When he turns, his fellow Disciple of the Mystic Arts is pointing at the limp figure of the friendly neighborhood hero lying on his bed. The mask is back on, if only to avoid further revealing his civilian identity to anyone else within the Sanctum.

“Is that—”

 Jihoon nods, forcing a smile. “Spider-Man? Yeah, that’s him.”

Minghao blinks, titls then slightly shakes his head as he mutters something in Mandarin. He side-eyes Jihoon and pats him on the shoulder. “Whatever this is,” he says, “keep me out of it.”

“Will do.”

Minghao winks then knocks on the door frame. “Don’t break any rules,” he whispers in a sing-song voice, waving good-bye. “But if you do, make sure to put them back together.”

Jihoon can’t help but laugh.

∿∿∿

AFTER YOUR THIRD cup of coffee and realizing it’s refilling itself whenever you’re not looking at it, you decide to put down the tankard-mug on the ornate side-table to your left. You then wallow in the confusing, awkward silence that has enveloped you ever since you first stepped into this strange place. That’s when you finally notice where you’ve been for the past—holy hell, has it really been thirty minutes? 

Wow, you think to yourself, time really is meaningless. Having arrived without so much as a word, you lean back on your chair to properly take in the room. You sit in a hexagonal room the size of a studio apartment and wonder how that’s possible. You quickly stop wondering, however, because self-refilling cups of coffee are a thing in your life now so what’s the point of questioning the size of the room? 

Emotionally and physically taxed, you just sigh and go with it.

The battened door to your right is tall and wide, shining like obsidian stone. Bookshelves cover every corner of the room and contain a plethora of knowledge: tomes, indexes, relics, and the long history of the Mystic Arts. Under the tall chair you’re sitting on is a decagon-shaped rug covering most of the floor; its fabric moves with shifting images of an otherworldly firmament from dawn to dusk. Opposite you is a thin, brick fireplace with a bowling-ball sized crystal ball hovering above the mantelpiece; beneath it, the fireplace nurses a tame blue fire.

It suddenly dawns on you that all of this is real—that you’re surrounded by dust, ancient history, and powers beyond your comprehension. Weird things have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen here, a voice whispers in your ear, spreading goosebumps through the back of your neck.

“You look very thoughtful,” says the now all too familiar voice of Lee Jihoon, startling you as the annoying, if familiar sound of a portal opening announces his arrival.

“What?”

“Thoughtful,” he repeats, then makes a face as if that isn’t the word that embodies what he’s trying to convey. “You look constipated,” he says, looking satisfied, “when you’re staring at the middle distance.”

“Funny.” You feign a smile then look away, rolling your eyes. “Very funny.”

Jihoon shrugs, waving a dismissive hand. “No one ever said I had good jokes,” he mutters, unfazed, “or that my sense of humor would appeal to others.”

You wave your hands in a yeah, yeah, enough of that sort of way and you stand up to ask him about Soonyoung.

“Where’s—”

But before you can even finish the question, you see him though the portal. Or his unconscious form as it’s being moved from room to room. Ruby—the cloak, you remind yourself—has enveloped Soonyoung from shoulders to thighs as it very carefully carries him. Jihoon summons a comfortable looking lounge chair and says something to the moving cloak, as if directing it to lower Soonyoung on the furniture. After a second, it does just that, unwrapping itself off him, and returning to Jihoon’s shoulders as he snaps his fingers and the portal closes itself with one swirling motion and a distinctive hiss.

“Here’s the deal,” says Jihoon, hands behind his back. “You know he’s Spider-Man. He knows that you know that he’s Spider-Man. And I know that you know that he knows that he’s Spider-Man.”

You blink, not following his train of thought. “Oh-kay? Wha—”

Jihoon half-smiles and opens his mouth to continue, but closes it and his expression falters when Ruby begins to insistently tug on both of his wrists. He sighs, lowers his head, mutters an aside, groans when the cloak tugs at his wrists again, then lifts his head and meets your gaze.

“And Ruby knows that I know that you know that Soonyoung knows you know he’s Spider-Man.” Jihoon clears his throat and claps his hands together in a gesture that reminds you of someone praying for patience. You notice the scarring in his knuckles and fingers but relent from asking. When your eyes meet his gaze again, he’s forcing himself to smile. “That’s not even the confusing part yet.”

“It isn’t?”

He shakes his head and whispers, “Not even close.”

You close your eyes and rub the bridge of your nose, sighing. When you open your eyes, he’s intently looking at you, hands clasped together by his stomach, standing as if in a meditative posture.

“I’m—you were saying?”

“It seems too many people already know what’s supposed to be a secret. Which is, y’know, the whole point of a secret identity.” Jihoon raises both eyebrows as he begins to roll his eyes but relents halfway. He shakes his head and waves a hand that says never mind, we’re wasting time and turns to give Soonyoung the once-over. “But someone is not very good at keeping secrets.”

“World’s worst secret keeper . . .” You mutter absentmindedly to yourself, though you quickly realize you’ve been thinking out loud and that Jihoon heard you. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why not?” He shrugs. “I already told him. Maybe if he hears it from you, he might take it seriously.”

“So . . . what happens now?”

Jihoon’s demeanor changes completely. That mischievous glint you had seen in his eyes when you mentioned coffee is nowhere to be found. He looks apprehensive, his mouth set in a thin line, his eyes gleaming with worry. He claps, the sound bouncing off the walls and the room’s impossibly high ceiling, and brings forth a cracked oval basin from one of the bookshelves behind you with a flourished flick of his wrists.

“The Runes of Kof-Kol,” he says, extending his hands around the basin.

You open and close your mouth, a hand raised as if to ask a question, but you slowly lower it and blink at him. “The Runes of Kafka?”

“No.” He cocks his head to the side, a piqued groan stuck in his throat. “Kof-Kol.”

“What the hell’s that?”

Jihoon makes a face, as if to say oh, haven’t you heard about this, well, okay, let me tell you.

“It’s just a standard spell of forgetting,” he explains. “It won’t turn back time, but it will make people forget about specific events.”

“Turn back time?”

“It’s possible.” He nods but there’s something in his expression that gives you the impression he’s not keen on trying that out. “It’s immensely dangerous and ridiciously irresponsible, but, y’know, doable.”

“But erasing my memory is, what, an acceptable option?”

Jihoon raises both hands above his head and the basin turns itself, rotating in mid-air on its accord. “The lesser of two evils,” he admits in a morose tone of voice. “None of which I’d like to bring into fruition.”

“And you’re still considering wiping my memory?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Why are you telling me this, though?”

“Because I’m not comfortable with brainwashing you into forgetting who Soonyoung is without your consent.”

You snort. “Without my consent?”

He waves the basin away, not paying attention to it as it floats and hovers near the fireplace.

“Magic is helpful and it can make things easier,” he says, his brow furrowed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to mess around with your mind for shit and giggles.”

You glance at Soonyoung through your periphery, lips pursed. “He’s more than Spider-Man,” you mutter. “He’s my friend.”

“I know. Which is why I want you to be aware of what’s going to happen.” Jihoon’s voice is serene and he sounds almost apologetic. “If I cast the spell, any and all memories you’ve had with Soonyoung—the good, the bad, the weird—will be all gone, erased forever from your mind, and you’d be none the wiser.”

You stare at him then turn to see Soonyoung lying unconscious on the lounge chair. You don’t know what to feel or do. You wonder if Soonyoung asked for this—for you to forget who he is—or if he asked for both of you to forget each other. You’re curious and you want to ask Jihoon, but you don’t because you’re afraid of the truth.

As Jihoon stares at you, letting you consider everything he’s said, you remember the first time you met Kwon Soonyoung. It was your first year at college, and both of you had two things in common: neither of you knew their way around campus and you were both media and communications majors without a clue as to why you’d chosen said concentration.

And yet there you were: lost, confused, and going with the flow because neither of you didn’t know what they wanted. And that’s okay, he’d said every time you muttered or yelped in a fit of anxiety that you were wasting your time. When you changed your major, he did too, and suddenly you were studying photography and found that you enjoyed it.

You remember how care-free, how unfazed by adversity, he’s always been. And despite you always knowing when he’s upset or worried or bothered, he’s always smiling. He’s more worried about others than himself, and only now do you realize that he’s done this for a reason. Being raised in a loving home where kindness and empathy reigned supreme had stuck with him and every lesson that had been imparted to him, he did and does his best to live by them.

“Why put yourself last in favor of others?”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung said, shrugging. “Why not? If I help one person, I make their lives easier. I ease a burden, y’know?”

“What about yourself?”

He scoffed, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed to have an answer, but he simply shrugged again and looked back at his notebook. You wanted to ask him again, push until he opened up, but he wouldn’t. Rarely was Soonyoung quiet, but whenever he was it meant that he was considering what to say and how to say it. That, or he didn’t know the answer yet and preferred to be silent instead of being dishonest. He would never say I don’t know because he’s always been so damn stubborn, but you can tell when he wants to say it even if he keeps it to himself.

Which is rather ironic. He had kept a secret from you—and God knew who else—and it hurts that he hadn’t shared it with you. You understand why. Or, at least, the logic behind the omission. He probably wants to keep his civilian and hero life apart—protect you from enemies and any danger that’s so tightly connected to him—but by leaving you in the dark he only protects himself. It feels cruel to think that, to believe that you should know every little detail of his life, but you’ve known him for years, been there with him when his grandfather died, helped him grief, and move on.

After that, a bond between two people strengthens to the point that an honest emotional connection is almost inevitable. And that’s what you’ve had for the past three years, which makes you wonder if this friendship—this relationship—will survive what happened a few hours ago.

It’s the fact that it’s him, Kwon Soonyoung, and not some random stranger that shakes you so much. Of all people, it’s him: friend, walking mess, full of energy and positivity, always smiling, always considerate, willing to make himself the fool, willing to stand up for his friends.

Spider-Man had been doing the same for years. A bright light in the midst of darkness, swinging to aid the helpless. The webslinger has taken hits capable of breaking a man and yet he picks himself up every single time. Just like Soonyoung. No wonder they’re one and the same.

You feel guilty and ashamed because instead of talking with him you ran. You left him in that alleway, not responding to his calls or his texts, and locked yourself in your dorm without a second thought. You thought about replying to his calls or texting him back, but instead you buried yourself in bed until you fell asleep.

And now he wants to be erased—purged—from your memory and you don’t know how to take it.

“Can I have a moment alone with him?”

Jihoon nods. “Duh,” he deadpans. Off your look, he just shrugs. “What, you were expecting me to be more tactful?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“This has been the longest night of my life and I’ve been stuck in a time loop fighting off Vampa-Cabras.” He lifts one shoulder, making a face that fully displays just how tired he is. “The quicker we deal with this, the faster we all can go back to bed.”

“Oh-kay.” You nod and pop your lips. “I’ll—er—I’ll try to speed this up.”

Jihoon deflates, genuinely smiling at you. He suddenly looks like the twenty-something he really is: an exhausted but well-meaning, walking mess trying his best. He passes a hand through his hair, exhaling as though he’s finally breathing fresh air, head above water, after wading through an ocean without a break.

“You’d be doing me a great favor.”

“Will you still erase my memory?”

“No,” he says, smiling thinly. “Is what I’d say if I were a liar.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He shrugs yet again.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to sort this out.”

“And then?”

“I’m casting the spell.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, forlorn, “oh.”

∿∿∿

SOONYOUNG DREAMS OF a life before Spider-Man. Before the bite. Before his grandfather died at the hands of a scumbag he let go without thinking of the consequences. He dreams and wishes he wasn’t Spider-Man anymore, but the dream slowly becomes a nightmare when he sees himself descend from above to pummel the shit out of someone. 

At first, he can’t see who it is—until he can. Himself. The same shy young man that hadn’t conquered his social anxiety or his fear of heights. Only this young man is on the ground, begging for his life, bruised, bloody, and broken. When Soonyoung looks at his hands, the blood is fresh: glistening, crismon, impossible to get rid off.

He screams but can’t hear his own voice. He closes his eyes and falls to his knees. When he opens his eyes, he’s standing in front of a mirror and his reflection is hazy. He can make out the silhouette—the red and blue of his suit, the white wide eyes of his mask—but nothing else beyond that. When he moves, the reflection stares back but doesn’t follow. Instead, his reflection reaches out and pulls him into the mirror. Soonyoung falls and falls and falls, his screams echoing in his head, unheard, lost to everyone but himself.

He sees the silhouettes of familiar foes: a mountain of a man, gray-scaled, a horn upon his forehead . . . a wide-shouldered, green-clad brute with a long, prehensile tail . . . a flying maniac with wings that spread the length of a man . . . a man clad in a suit in tie, a bright photo-negative brought to life . . . a man made of pure energy, crackling and cackling . . . a man in a suit of yellow-quilt, vibro-shock gauntlets on his forearms.

And they all have something to say:

“You’re nothing but fucking freak!”

“Give up, you failure!”

“Why waste your time following me, webhead? I’ll just break out again—”

“—and again—”

“—and again—”

“—AND AGAIN!”

Soonyoung keeps falling. His chest aches, feels tight as if the Rhino has stomped on him until he’s been cratered on the ground. For a moment, everything hurts. The voices in his head grow louder, scathing, insistent. They’re reminders of how he truly feels, and he can’t do anything but agree with them. He has tried his best and his best has never been enough. He has tried to keep you safe. He has tried to do good by his grandparents. He has tried to balance a college life with being a superhero. And it all has been for nothing—because it’s never been nor would it ever be enough.

The deeper he falls, the darker the abyss becomes. The deeper he falls, the louder the voices become until they crescendo into a cacophony of contempt. He embraces the abyss, the jeering, and lets go of the fear, the doubt, that resides within. Just as he thinks he’ll hit rock bottom, a voice stirs him from his self-pity.

“Soonyoung?” says the voice of his grandmother. “Soonyoung, honey? It’s time—”

“—to get up,” your voice and Jihoon’s follow, fused as one yet distinctive to his ear.

“Off your ass, kiddo,” says the voice of his grandfather. “You got this.”

Kwon Soonyoung’s eyes snap open. He pulls himself up—a web here, a web there—and sees the light above him. He fights through the cackling and the insults and the jeering, punching and kicking his foes’ shadows, expelling them to the abyss below, smiling as he does it. The part of him that wishes the spider had never bitten him remains behind, falling into the abyss along with all the self-doubt.

He pulls himself through the darkness and finds himself standing in a mirror again. He moves and his reflection follows. He looks and sees himself clearly. The red and blue suit is still there, vaguely outlining his mirror-self, the mask is off and Soonyoung can only see himself: smiling, nodding, as if to say this is who you are.

Wake up, says a voice.

And so he does.

∿∿∿

“HEY,” YOU WHISPER, gently tracing Spider-Man’s jaw with your index finger as he wakes up. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

He blinks, unsure whether or not this is a dream, then dazedly sits up on the lounge chair. He gives the room the once-over, puffs his cheeks, then exhales through his mouth. Having met your knowing gaze, Spider-Man pulls off his mask and smiles sheepishly, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I—er—how do I—” Kwon Soonyoung begins, but can’t bring himself to speak.

“You should have told me.”

Soonyoung briefly meets your gaze, frowning. “Told you?”

“That you were—” you pause, letting reality sink in after being in denial. “That you’re Spider-Man.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I know, but still . . .” It’s you now that lowers their gaze and looks away. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Have been long enough for you to trust me.”

“I know. It’s just—”

You frown. “It’s just what?”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Soonyoung sighs. “I can’t lose you.”

“And I can’t lose you.”

“I am afraid, y’know? I already failed my grandfather. I don’t want to fail you. I guess I was just trying to avoid the inevitable. I kept telling myself that if I kept you at arm’s length, if I kept you separate from all the shit I go through, you’d be safe.”

“In the end, you’re only protecting yourself.”

He smiles ruefully at that then nods, his head resting against his chest. He chuckles, but there’s no joy in it; it’s a mirthless sound that slowly transitions into a heavy sigh. You hold his hand, gently squeezing it, and rest your head on his shoulder.

“We’re friends,” you whisper. “We should be able to rely on each other.”

“I know. It’s just—” Soonyoung lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours. “I’m not good with loss.”

You shrug, smiling. “No one really is.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you since forever but I’ve never found the right time or had the right words.”

You scoff. He leans back, gingerly brushing part of your hair off your face, smiling a small smile. He admires you, looking into your eyes, momentarily eyeing your lips, then tracing your jaw and chin with his index finger.

“Won for your thoughts,” you mutter, feeling your ears grow warm, a knot in your stomach tightening and unraveling as he eyes linger on your lips. “I’d love to, y’know, know what you’re thinking.”

“I want to kiss you,” he blurts out, his voice trailing off as if in a daze.

You blush. To your surprise, so does he. He blinks, eyes wide, mouth open, eyebrows raised, and awkwardly clears his throat.

“I—” Soonyoung purses his lips. “I did mean that but I don’t think now’s the right time.”

“If not now, when?” you ask absentmindedly.

He smirks. “Touché.”

You lean forward, resting your forehead against his once more. You poke his dimples, which appear once in a blue moon, and chuckle when he makes a face and throws his head back, concealing a smile by looking away. His laugh is contagious, a melody that lifts your spirits, and makes you forget about the alleyway ordeal . . . about how things are now different and will never be the same . . . about how the spell.

“Hey,” you begin, your tone sheepish. “Jihoon mentioned a memory-wipe magic thingie.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widen in horror. He sits straighter and scootches away from you, as though he’s radioactive and wants to keep you at a safe distance. After a moment of silence, he stands up and begins to slowly and painfully pace the room.

“The spell?” he asks, not looking at you.

You nod.

“Yeah, about that . . .” Soonyoung scratches the back of his neck. “I just wanted to make things right.”

“By erasing my memory?”

“No, by making you forget that I’m Spider-Man.”

“How’s that not erasing my memory?”

Soonyoung smiles, eyes crinkled and eyebrows knitted in a pained, awkward expression. He can only look ashamed. It was a last minute idea. He had asked Jihoon to turn back time so that he could avoid doing what he’d done but apparently that wasn’t the most viable of options. It's an idea, sure, Jihoon had said, but it’s a terrible idea. He said it with a stern look and a glint of apprehension in his eyes. When Soongyoung asked why, Jihoon half-smiled in a way that wasn’t funny or comforting. Universes have collapsed because someone thought using an Infinity Stone was a great idea, he added, and I’m not about to fuck around and find out what it can do this plane of existence.

When Jihoon proposed the spell, with the same apprehension as when messing with the stability of time-space was mentioned, Soonyoung clung to the idea. He wasn’t keen on it, but if he could make up for what you’d see and what he’d done, he would do whatever it took to fix things. Granted, neither he or Jihoon were particularly on board with the Runes of Kof-Kol, but it was the only thing that popped up in the sorcerer’s head.

Soonyoung had been regretting then and that hadn’t changed. He’s still regretting it and now the regret turns to immense embarrassment. How could he do that to you? Or even to himself? How could he live with it knowing he’d cheated you from the truth in spite of how uncomfortable it had been revealed?

He shakes his head and turns to you, grimacing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted to tell you who I was, but I’d never wanted you to find out the way you did. I lost control. You saw me—” He pauses, blinking away tears. “You saw the worst of me in a moment of anger . . . of desperation. I want to protect you, but not like that. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“You really are the world’s worst secret keeper.” You look at him and click your tongue. “You’re a mess.”

He shrugs. “I know.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the lounge chair. “Sit down.”

He sits next to you, though avoiding your gaze. He’s gripping his mask with both hands, staring at the wide, white eyes with a clenched jaw. You rest a hand on the back of his neck, lean forward, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad it’s you,” you whisper. “That you’re the one and only Spider-Man. You definitely scared the shit out of me, though.”

“I know.” He half-smiles. “And I should have told you and I plan to . . .”

“You’re still going through with it?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I just wanted to do it properly, y’know? Tell you the truth, I mean.”

You chuckle and pull him into a hug. “I know,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. You feel his hands slowly envelop the small of your back and immediately feel your ears and cheeks grow warm. His touch is tender, his breathing warm against your neck, and somehow you can tell that he’s smiling that dumb smile of his.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft yet you can tell he’s forcing himself to sound calm.

You pat him on the back. “Still shaken, but I’ll live.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

You sigh and find yourself chuckling.

“Me too,” you say, feeling relieved. Then a thought pops in your head and break the hug, holding him by his forearms. “What about the spell?”

“I—” His eyes widen in panic but he quickly recovers and looks confident. “I’ll tell Jihoon to forget it.”

“Just like that?” You ask, eyes narrowed in skepticism.

“Yeah.” He nods, confident. “Just like that.”

∿∿∿

FINDING JIHOON PROVES to be a pain in the tochus. The Sanctum is huge, shifting its rooms out spite or a twisted sense of humor, and never really gives you or Soonyoung a straight path towards any particular direction. After five minutes of wandering and ending up in the same room Jihoon had left both of you, Soonyoung decides it’s best to just call him out by name. You witness him screaming with detached curiosity and a good amount of second-hand embarrassment but ultimately give in and follow his example.

This strategy doesn’t last long because a minute or two after just saying Jihoon’s name out loud, varying between whispering it and shouting it, the door opens and there stands someone neither of you have ever met.

“What in the name of the Vishanti are you doing?” asks a lean, auburn-haired man in a stern, if judgemental tone of voice. “Do you even know what time it is?”

“Eh . . . no,” responds Soonyoung, eyes crinkled as he offers an embarrassed smile. “But I’m assuming it’s late.”

Auburn Hair blinks at him, scoffing. “Oh, you assume? How very bold of you.”

Soonyoung chuckles nervously then stops, pointing at the man as if recognizing him. “Wait, aren’t you Minghao?” he asks. “Jihoon has mentioned you before.”

“Yeah. And you’re Spider-Man. He’s mentioned you before.” Minghao crosses his arms, shrugging. “Your point?”

“We’re just wondering where he is,” you interject off Soonyoung’s hurt expression. “He gave us some privacy and then just—”

“Disappeared? Yeah, he tends to do that.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“As long as you shut up, I’ll just show you where he is.”

You and Soonyoung exchange a look. When you turn to Minghao, he’s giving you the good ol’ stink eye at both of you.

“It was nice meeting you,” he says, aloofly.

“Is what you would say if you were a liar?” you ask, half-smiling and pointing finger guns at him.

Minghao scoffs. “Sure,” he retorts. “Let’s go with that.”

“So do you—” Soonyoung begins but doesn’t finish. “Oh.”

You feel the same way you did when Jihoon moved you from one room to another, but this time you feel fatigued and dizzy. It takes you longer to regain your balance and your breath and when you do you notice that Soonyoung hasn’t been affected at all by the sudden shift in time-space. You blink and think you’re going blind but it slowly dawns on you that you’re simply in a dark place.

“Where are we?” Soonyoung’s voice echoes and bounces off the walls.

“Yeah. What is this place?” you ask, taking slow steps as you unconsciously follow Soonyoung towards the only source of light. “It’s creepy.”

“You’re in the Sanctum’s undercroft,” Jihoon’s voice sounds distant, but he’s standing no more than eight feet from you. “And if I were you, I’d stay exactly where you are.”

You blink, your eyesight no longer blurry, and see Jihoon standing in the center of a hexagon-shaped tile that’s cracked beyond repair. Floating at chest-level is that same oval basin he’d summoned earlier. It shimmers with orange light and that reminds you of contained fire. Jihoon stands stiffly with his left hand forward, a mandala hovering his open palm, and his right hand is lifted, drawing something above his head. You look up to see what can only be described as a bunch of Unowns forming a thin ring of blazing light.

“What’s that?” you groggily ask, pointing at the magical gibberish. “Is that—”

“—the spell?” Soonyoung finishes for you, taking a step forward.

“STAY.” Jihoon commands in a cold, ethereal voice.

Soonyoung pauses, though not of his own volition. He tries to move but remains rooted in place. You take one, two, three steps, and find yourself equally frozen. When you try to speak, the words are lost on the tip of a now very heavy tongue. The same happens to Soonyoung because he’s grunting in a way that sounds like he’s trying to form words but can’t.

“You stand at the intersection of cosmic energy currents,” Jihoon says in a strained voice. “Some, if not all, of these walls are thousands of years old. I’m not about to cast a very powerful and precise spell and let you two mess with it.”

You want to say I appreciate the effort, but we worked things out and we’re gonna keep working them out on our own without the abracadabras and the bibbidi bobbidi boos so if you can stop waving your arms around and we could leave we’d love that but beyond a pained moan nothing comes out. You swear you’re more articulate when you’re not magically held in place.

Soonyoung tries to move, manages to slide his foot forward, but stops when he notices Jihoon finishing the spell. His eyes widen in panic and he groans, as if to say hey stop that, but it’s too late because whatever the swirling symbols above his head begin to swirl faster and glow brighter until they nearly blind you.

“Nice knowing you, Spider-Man,” says Jihoon in a booming voice unlike his own.

The last thing you see before everything flashes to pure white is Lee Jihoon smiling ruefully, as if to say hate me now, thank me later.

∿∿∿

“HOW ARE THE hands?”

Soonyoung rubs his eyes, sits on a very soft bed, and realizes he isn’t in his crappy apartment. He blinks at the hazy silhouette of someone he knows is familiar standing by the door. He blinks once, twice, and notices it’s Jihoon. The sorcerer is holding a cup of coffee in one hand and one of those THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING plastic bags on the other.

“The hands?” Soonyoung asks.

Jihoon sips from his coffee. “Your hands.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung looks down at them. He can tell they were bruised but now they look healed as he opens and closes them. “They don’t hurt.”

Jihoon smirks and throws the plastic bag. Soonyoung catches it without looking.

“Still got it,” says the sorcerer, smirking. “So . . . about last night.”

“What about last—oh.” Soonyoung’s eyes widen to the point of almost popping out of their sockets. He aims a shaking finger at his friend and cock his head to the side. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. You came to me all beat up. I patched you up. You spent the night here. End of story.”

“Wha—really?”

“Yes, really.”

“What about last night then?”

Jihoon clenches his jaw in that way he does whenever he has to impart bad news. “It can’t happen again,” he says. “I have no problem patching you up, but if it’s something that’s gonna require me using magic then . . . that’s not something that should become routine.”

“Oh.”

Soonyoung sighs and massages the back of his neck. He barely remembers why he came to the Sanctum in the first place, but things have been so hectic lately that it isn’t that weird that he can’t recall swinging by for a quick check-up and some stitches. He shrugs it off and turns his gaze to Jihoon, who’s scrutinizing him with a penetrating stare.

He does remember Jihoon suturing a cut above his eyebrow and yanking on his hands.

“I remember blacking out when you were treating my hands . . .”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I realigned your chakras.”

Soonyoung makes a face. 

“That was what you were doing?” he asks, fighting the impulse to shudder.

Jihoon nods. “I told you it’d hurt like hell. And seeing as you’re constantly neglecting your needs to focus on others, you got some work to do on yourself.”

Soonyoung scoffs and shakes his head. Work on myself, he thinks, as if I had time for that.

“Thanks, but I can manage,” he says, waving a dismissive hand and patting Jihoon’s shoulder. “I always do.”

“I know, but you’re not alone.” Jihoon looks serious. “Look, webs, your problem isn’t the smearing campaign the Bugle has against you or fighting crazy supervillains. The problem is you trying to live two widely different lives. The longer you do that, the more dangerous things will become.”

“Why are you—”

“The more you try to keep something from happening, the quicker it’ll happen.” Jihoon pats his friend’s knee, sips from his coffee, and turns to leave. “Keep your friends close and your loved ones closer.”

Soonyoung blinks, confused, not really sure what to say. He just nods and watches Jihoon leave the room. He opens the plastic bag, looks down, and sees his Spider-Man suit. He tenses, gives the room a cursory glance, then slowly takes the mask from the bag. He sniffs it out of habit and instead of recoiling he finds himself smelling it again. It smells like mango and feels new to his touch.

He cocks his head, as if to say no bad. A second later, he puts the suit on, opens up a window, and swings out of the Sanctum.

∿∿∿

YOU WAKE UP to the smell of mango and someone knocking on your window. Groggily, you open your eyes, rub them, then notice a familiar silhouette clad in red and blue hovering on the windowsill.

Is that—

“Spider-Man?”

You blink twice, rub your eyes again, and cock your head in confusion as the webslinger awkwardly waves at you. You wave back, drag yourself out of bed, open the window, and slowly back out as he slips into your bedroom.

“Hey,” he says.

You nod. “Hey?”

He clears his throat and points to the spider emblem in his chest.

“I’m, uh, Spider-Man.”

You nod again, eyebrows raised. “I know who you are . . .” your voice trails off then you ask, “What are you doing here, though? Don’t you have, like, things to do? Crime to fight? Supervillains to put away?”

“Er,” he mumbles, “I do but I got something a bit more important.”

“In between all the superhero stuff?”

He gives a small nod. “Yeah.”

“Oh-kay?” You narrow your eyes. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, uh, I—” Spidey clears his throat. He begins pacing the room, hands on his waist, glancing your away every ten seconds or so, then gives his back to you. After a beat, he turns to you and shrugs. “If not now, when?”

“Wha—”

He leans in, pulls his mask off, and Kwon Soonyoung appears underneath it. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says, smiling a smile that perfectly embodies his sheepish idiocy. “And I’m an idiot for telling you earlier.”

Your eyes grow wide, your mouth hangs open, and then everything clicks. All the sudden disappearances or the calls immediately directed to his voicemail or the times you noticed a bruise here or there. You try to say something but the shock is too much and you just punch him in the shoulder and embrace him in a hug.

“You smell like mango!” you exclaim, entranced by how sweet he smells.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes but can’t conceal a bout of giggling. “It is.”

He hugs you tighter. The way his hands wrap around the small of your back feels familiar, comfortable. You lean your head on his shoulder as he leans his against yours. It feels like it’s meant to be.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he whispers.

“I’m just glad you did,” you whisper back.

You hold him tight and wish to never let him go. Your eyes meet with his and you remain there, looking at each other, losing in each other’s gaze. His eyes linger in your lips and after a moment he leans in. 

The kiss is gentle and it seems to last forever.

∿∿∿

“HOW DID THE spell go?”

Jihoon painfully rolls his eyes and twists his neck left and right until he hears it crack. He doesn’t have to turn to know Minghao is behind him, possibly smirking at him, dripping with smugness, waiting for a lie or an excuse. But he does turn and sees that Minghao is just standing there, clad in his teal and golden yellow Disciple robes, a curious glint in his eyes.

“Well, let’s see,” says Jihoon, lifting a hand to count off his fingers. “The very fabric of reality isn’t breaking apart. We have no interdimensional visitors. Oh, and Wong hasn’t killed me yet. So far, so good.”

Minghao giggles mischievously. “You broke some rules and but them back together, didn’t you?”

“Sure,” says Jihoon, closing his eyes to continue meditating. “Let’s go with that.”

[kpopsickiess]

<3

could you pls do an s.coups snz fic with him being sick!! maybe with a concert plot or something, if you can pls pick cause i can’t!!

tysm!!

Sickie: Scoups

Caretakers: Woozi+Hoshi

(Set during Cheers filming)

Scoups p.o.v

I checked the time, 8:36, four minutes until I had to be in a meeting with our manager about our new album, and then I would head to the filming location to start recording with the other leaders. I was uneasy, because something felt off, but I couldn't quite place what it was. The meeting went smoothly for the first half, besides the strange feeling I had. About halfway through I noticed that the uneasy feeling felt more achy and icky than uneasy. And as the meeting went on I was able to pinpoint a noticeable scratchy and somewhat painful feeling in my throat. I found myself clearing my throat more and more often as the meeting went on. I also noticed that there was a slight tickle blossoming. I was able to ignore it for nearly half an hour, before it got to the point where I couldn't ignore it any longer, "e-excuse me-hh- HHttCChuuH HiKktchHu HHkktCHU ehhKktcHHuh" I bowed and apologized, he ignored it and continued talking. After the sneezes I noticed the tickle was still very prominent, and getting harder to ignore. I mentally blamed it on my rhinitis acting up, likely from the dust, even though in reality, I knew that I was likely getting sick. My throat didn't really hurt when my rhinitis was acting up, unless I had been sneezing a lot. And the fact that I had only sneezed a few times, and my throat had hurt before that, I was definitely getting sick. But mentally I knew I didn't exactly have time to get sick, with our comeback coming up, so it was easier to pass it off as rhinitis.

The meeting ended a bit later than expected, and no, it had nothing to do with us having to pause every few minutes for me to sneeze. I went straight to the filming location, not even having time to take anything for the quickly moving cold that was plaguing me. I also knew that Jihoon and Soonyoung would send me straight home if they found out I was sick, and I really couldn't be sick right now, I had too much going on. I mentally agreed with myself that I would hide and downplay my illness as much as possible, I felt like it was for the best. I arrived at the filming location in a rush, quickly saying hi to the others before heading to get changed into the outfit for the filming.

Once finished, I quickly blew my nose before going out to where the other two leaders were. "What took so long?" Jihoon asked, a subtle hint of scolding in his tone. "The meeting went a bit longer than planned" he nodded, but seemed dissatisfied with something, "are you alright hyung?" I nodded, quickly putting up my defensive air, not wanting the other two to catch on. Especially this fast. "The room we were having the meeting in was a bit dusty" I shrugged as if to say, you know. Both members knew about how dust got to me, so they both nodded and didn't say anything else on the topic.

A few minutes into filming the tickle came back into my nose, the members would know something was off if I was still sneezing, because I was usually fine after I got away from the dusty area. So once the other two were distracted, I pinched my nose shut, "hhhttch, nngtch- heh-nngtch nngptch- hhngtcch-'' I shook my head to clear the foggy feeling that had settled. I cleared my throat, hoping that would help restrain the cough that was kicking at the back of my throat. After doing so, the younger two leaders looked at me, "did you need something hyung?" Soonyoung asked. "Uh.." I thought quick to cover up, "are we going to start filming or are we just standing around"

"

"Hyung they just said we're going to start in about 5 minutes" Jihoon said, looking vaguely concerned, they must have said that while I was sneezing. "oh, I missed that" 

"Are you sure you're okay hyung?" I nodded, "my brain is kinda not functioning, the meeting was kinda tiring" 

"We can film later hyung" Jihoon suggested, I think the two of them noticed something was wrong, I frantically shook my head. "It's okay, let's just get started" The filming went smoothly, until it didn't. We were in the middle of a group shot, when I felt the annoying tickle and quickly ducked down, not wanting to get the sneeze on camera, and pinched my nose shut, "hhptcchu- nngtchhu hhh- ehh-" i paused, the tickle was still there, but the sneeze wasn't coming out. "Alright guys, reset so we can refilm that shot" the director said, much to the annoyance and confusion of the other two members. "Why, that was a good take!" Soonyoung protested, the director shook his head, "Scoups sneezed, so we need to redo it" I blushed, as the other two focused on me. "How didn't we hear it? Your sneezes are usually pretty loud and aggressive" I planned to answer, but my breath hitched, and I turned away, but the sneeze didn't come, but my breath still was hitching, and my nose was still really itchy. While I was still facing away from the other two, I waved my hand in front of my face, hoping to relieve the itch somehow. It was a highly ineffective tactic, because the itch didn't lessen at all, in fact I think it only got worse. Finally the annoying stuck sneeze came out, and I stifled it again, not even thinking about how the other two would have noticed either way. "Bless you"

"Thank you" I cringed at how congested I was. "Hyung you really shouldn't stifle your sneezes"Soonyoung said, as Jihoon left, i wasn't sure where he went. "I know, but earlier I was trying to be quiet"

"Hyung, why didn't you tell us you're sick" 

"Because I'm not sick" i heard them both scoff in disbelief, "hyung, you're sweating while shivering, so I know you have a fever" Soonyoung explained, but he didn't stop there, "you're also pale, and your nose is bright pink, and you earlier is it was from dust, so why are you still sneezing? And last I checked, rhinitis doesn't cause a fever." I blushed, and used my sleeve to wipe at my nose. "Hyung, I just got it cleared with the staff, you're supposed to go home, and you're not coming back until you don't have a fever" 

"But-" 

"No hyung, you're sick" 

"The comeback"

"The comeback can wait, your health comes first" I wanted to protest, but I knew there was no use. And as stressed as I was about the comeback,a nap sounded amazing right now. And tissues, I felt bad for the stylist, as the sleeve of my jacket was now quite gross. "Here hyung" Jihoon handed me a box of tissues, "thanks' ' I gladly took a handful and blew my nose, not caring any more if the others knew I was sick. The blow brought the tickle back enough that I sneezed twice more, not stifling this time. The rough sneezes ripped at my sore throat and I coughed a few times. "You sound pretty rough hyung, let's get you home" I nodded.

The three of us got home, and none of the others were there, which wasn't a bad thing because it was quiet so I was able to sleep. I woke up a couple hours later to a hand on my forehead. I stirred, opening my eyes, seeing Jihoon, "you're fever broke" he explained seeing i was awake. I nodded, "can I f-hhtCHhuh HHTChhuUH- *snf- cough cough - snf- *ahem* Can I film now?" He rolled his eyes, "are you serious!??!" "Yes" he rolled his eyes, "no, you have to wait until you can actually get through a sentence without coughing or sneezing, and you have to be without a fever for at least 24 hours. And you've maybe made it three" I couldn't help but feel irritated, I knew it was for the best, but I just wanted to film and release the album asap. As if Jihoon was reading my mind, he patted my shoulder, and said "I know you want to finish filming hyung, but if you go now, you'll only get more sick, and then you'll be out even longer" I sighed, I knew he was right. He smiled, "you're already on the mend, which is a good sign, hopefully it'll be out of your system pretty quickly, you've got a strong immune system" I was so grateful for my strong immune system because I felt better within four days, and my fever didn't spike again. So on the 5th day after being sent home, I was able to return to filming. With thankfully only a few sneezes here and there.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🐢Day 17: Brainfog/Spaced Out

@sicktember

Summary: Hansol keeps spacing out. The 96-liners are working to help him.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Vernon/Hansol

Caretaker: Jun + Hoshi/Soonyoung + Wonwoo + Woozi/Jihoon

Tension was high with Seungcheol and Jeonghan on hiatus at the same time. The members would never admit it to the two eldest and they did try to help out Joshua, who hated his role as vice vice leader more than anything. Especially the 96line felt the pressure as they tried to keep anyone younger than themselves away from any added responsibility. With Hoshi and Woozi already used to their roles as performance leader and vocal leader respectively and Jun and Wonwoo being some of the most responsible members, they managed just fine.

That didn’t mean that they didn't feel the responsibility and the stress.

Especially during that day’s dance practice.

With nerves running high, it didn’t help that Hansol was … well, Hansol. They were used to his particular brand of awkwardness and his spatial unawareness when he was in his own world but it didn’t make the dance practice run any smoother. 

No matter how often Hoshi tried to explain the moves, Hansol couldn’t seem to grasp them. 

Normally Hansol’s spaciness would not interfere with any schedules or at least not to that degree. But that day? Hansol was all over the place.

Countless times he stopped in the middle of a movement, forgetting either what he was supposed to do or what move he had just done. Other times he stumbled over his own and once even over Dino’s feet. For Hansol’s and their own safety, Jun had even taken him aside at one point to try to teach him the dance one-on-one. It hadn’t really done anything.

Hansol was clearly having a bad day. They all had them and they tried to be careful with the member who was in need of a break and/or unwell. It wouldn’t help to pressure a member further when he was already beating himself up about it anyway and they all cared about each other too much to let things get too far if they could. It took different approaches for each member.

With Hansol it was most of the time enough to speak with him: He wouldn’t feel comfortable admitting to something out of his own accord but if somebody talked to him he wouldn’t hide whatever was going on.

It was during a water break that Wonwoo decided to speak to him, to try to see if he could find out what was happening. Joshua was on the side, talking to a manager and looking more frazzled each second, so having him talk to his fellow America-liner would not work. Hoshi was working with Mingyu and Seungkwan on their dance moves and Woozi was walking over to see if he could help out Joshua. Jun was nowhere to be seen, likely either using the bathroom or refilling his water bottle at one of the fountains.

So, for now, Hansol was his responsibility. With Seungcheol as their Hip Hop Team leader not there, Wonwoo felt especially responsible for Mingyu and their rap-maknae. 

“Hansol-ah?”, Wonwoo asked, approaching the younger rapper. Hansol was sitting on the ground, leaning back against the fogged up mirror with his eyes closed. “What’s going on with you today?”

Maybe he should have expected it but Hansol showed no signs of having heard him. To anybody outside the group he might have looked asleep but Wonwoo could easily spot the tension on his face and the way he was absently tapping an imaginary beat with his fingers against his thigh. 

Wonwoo crouched down next to him, entangling his fingers with Hansol’s to stop the nervous movement. At the touch Hansol sighed and opened his eyes, blinking blearily up at his hyung. His eyes seemed unfocused and he quickly looked down at their hands before Wonwoo could get a better look at his face.

“Hey, baby”, Wonwoo said quietly, moving into a crosslegged position next to the younger without letting go of him. “What’s going on with you today?”

Hansol shrugged, gripping Wonwoo’s hand more tightly. 

“You don’t know?”, Wonwoo questioned, a bit lost and unable to interpret what exactly Hansol wanted to tell him. Maybe the maknae didn’t know himself.

Hansol swallowed and licked his dry lips. “I don’t know”, he echoed, “I feel weird. Floaty. Everything is so hard today.”

Wonwoo hummed, lifting his other hand to feel Hansol’s forehead. He wasn’t particularly warm, just sweaty. A fever would have explained the symptoms easily enough but it seemed like that wasn’t the issue. 

“Everybody has hard days”, Wonwoo settled on saying, “do you think you might need to sit out of practice? Dancing while so distracted isn’t safe.”

He didn’t receive an answer. He wasn’t even sure if Hansol had heard him. Yeah, no more dancing for him. 

“Sit here, okay? Rest”, Wonwoo said, tapping Hansol’s wrist to get his attention again, “after practice I’m gonna have Jun take you home, okay?”

Technically they had a Hip Hop Team meeting after but Hansol desperately needed rest and he wouldn’t be helpful in his state. Mingyu and Wonwoo would be able to do it as two. They had to. The performance team was free after, hence Jun taking Hansol home to their dorm. Maybe they could get Dino to help them with their rap lyrics.

Hansol nodded.

When Wonwoo got up, he found the rest of the group staring at him in expectation. He just shook his head and walked over to his spot.

“From the top”, Hoshi announced, looking worried but determined to go on. 

💎

An hour later, they were taking another much-needed break. They were all running on fumes. This time, Seungkwan went over to check on Hansol, sitting down against the mirror next to him. Hansol, as soon as he noticed his best friend, leaned his head on the older’s shoulder. Seungkwan laid his cheek on top of Hansol’s head and closed his eyes too. They both looked exhausted and, yet, it was a sweet sight.

Wonwoo had sat down by the couch, eyes closed and leaning back against Mingyu’s legs, and Dino sprawled over his lap. Even Hoshi with his endless energy was laying down with his head against Woozi’s thigh, and Minghao, Jun and DK seemed to be trying to become one person, laying on top of one another. Joshua was on his back in the middle of the room, seemingly asleep.

It was quiet in the room, all of them just taking a moment to breathe and relax. So they all heard the small gasp echoing in the room, and the following stunned mumbling: “Shit, oh, oh, okay. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Wonwoo opened his eyes in time to see Woozi and Hoshi jumping up at the same time, colliding against one another and falling back down, and Jun pushing DK and Minghao off of himself. It was then that Wonwoo noticed where exactly the commotion had come from.

Seungkwan’s eyes, full of panic, locked onto Wonwoo’s. The vocalist’s shirt and sweatpants were covered in vomit, he himself looking stunned. Hansol, looking just as shocked as him, was crying and there was saliva and strands of throw up dangling from his lips. 

“Oh, Nonie”, Hoshi broke the shocked silence engulfing the room and rushed over to the maknaes, Wonwoo hot on his heels. He should have noticed earlier that Hansol’s spaciness wasn’t just Hansol having an off-day but sickness. However, the blame-game would have to wait.

“I don’t feel good”, Hansol sobbed as soon as Hoshi pulled him into his arms, away from Seungkwan who looked equal parts disgusted and worried. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay”, Hoshi comforted, rocking Hansol in his arms, “you’re just sick. It happens.”

He looked up at Wonwoo with wide eyes. Normally this would be the part where Seungcheol would take charge and Jeonghan would help out the sick member. Now…

“Junnie? Why don’t you take Seungkwan to the shower and help him get cleaned up?”, Woozi suggested loudly, coming over to them as well and placing a soft hand on Hansol’s shoulder. “Wonwoo, can you go wake Shua-hyung and get him and the other kids a ride home? They all need rest. Soonyoung and I got Hansollie.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea”, Jun said, reaching out his hands to help Seungkwan up. It was probably smart to have Seungkwan go with Jun. The dancer wasn’t phased by vomit and he would be able to keep Seungkwan distracted from his own worry.

“Yeah, let’s do that”, Wonwoo agreed.

💎

“Come on, love”, Hoshi mumbled into Hansol’s ear, “let’s go to the bathroom, okay?”

The shaking maknae in his arms whimpered a bit but nodded. Woozi sighed, feeling awful for him. Hansol was so ill and it hurt to see his whole body trembling. Yet he made no move to get up.

Woozi rubbed Hansol’s shoulder and asked: “Sollie, do you want me to carry you?”

There was definitely a risk of getting thrown up on and there was probably already puke on Hansol that would end up on Woozi's clothes but at that moment he couldn't care less.

Hansol turned to look at the producer with teary eyes and nodded. He looked so young, engulfed in Hoshi’s arms. 

Woozi turned around and soon he felt Hansol wrap his arms around his shoulders and his legs around his waist. The producer hooked his elbows under Hansol’s knees and with Hoshi helping him he stood up, Hansol snug on his back. When the maknae rested his head against Woozi’s neck, he felt unnaturally warm. He had seen Wonwoo feel the younger’s forehead earlier and realized that between then and now Hansol must have developed a fever after all. 

The poor young rapper really wasn’t doing well.

As they walked past the other members, all with worry written over their features, Hoshi just said: “Don’t worry about him. Take your time to rest too. You did well.”

They managed to make their way to the closest bathroom without any incidents but as soon as they sat Hansol down next to the toilet he leaned over and opened his mouth. Instantly more vomit poured into the toilet, dirtying the water. Woozi and Hoshi exchanged worried glances over the maknae’s head before Hoshi scooted closer to their miserable maknae and half-hugged him, whispering reassurances. Woozi noticed the way Hansol’s fingers seemed to seek purchase against the cold tiles, clearly in need of holding onto something. He took the younger’s hand in his, smoothing out the curled digits and rubbing soft circles on the back of Hansol’s hand with his thumb.

“Breathe”, Hoshi whispered, “you’re okay. Breathe.”

Luckily this round didn’t take long and soon enough Hansol was able to lean away from the toilet, basically slumping into Hoshi’s arms. 

“Do you want to … Hansollie, can you look at me for a moment?” Woozi interrupted himself half-way through his own question as he realized that the maknae was staring at something only he could see. His eyes were glazed with fever and it took Woozi gently tapping his cheek to get his attention. “Can you try to drink something?”

Woozi held up a water bottle that Hoshi had taken with them. Hansol blinked but didn’t react otherwise. 

“He’s really burning up”, Hoshi commented, feeling the younger’s forehead, cheeks and neck, “no wonder he is so spacey.”

“Should we … should we take him to the hospital?”, Woozi asked reluctantly. He was incredibly worried over the younger and he wasn’t sure that they could help him with the limited resources they had on the floor of a random bathroom at their company building.

“Not yet, I think.” Hoshi pressed a kiss to Hansol’s sweaty hair. “He hates hospitals and strangers prodding him nearly as much as you do. If he doesn’t get better with some fever reducers and antiemetics at the dorm, we can reevaluate.”

A knock on the bathroom door startled both of them, yet Hansol didn’t even seem to have heard.

“Hi, it’s me”, Wonwoo said, “I got some fresh clothes for Sollie and orders from the managers to get us back to the dorms asap.”

Woozi reached up and opened the door, revealing Wonwoo with his glasses a bit askew but a soft smile on his lips. It was a tight fit in the stall with already three fully grown men and there was no way Wonwoo would even fit half of his body in there with them. 

“Let’s get you into fresh clothes”, Woozi said to Hansol, though he was pretty sure that the younger didn’t really hear him. They managed to get him up and into the open space by the sinks where they had more room to help him.

With Hoshi supporting Hansol and Woozi and Wonwoo working on redressing Hansol, it was surprisingly easy to remove the stained clothing. Though Hansol had mostly thrown up on poor Seungkwan, there was a bit of vomit on his clothes as well. 

Some of it had indeed ended up on Woozi's clothes but Hoshi made quick work of wiping the stains away with a wet paper towel. It would suffice for now.

They had a van for themselves back to the dorms, the rest of the team having gone home with Joshua. Hansol fell asleep on Woozi’s shoulder basically the moment they had settled down. They were grateful for it, especially since the younger rapper normally had a tendency to get motion sick. Luckily he slept through the whole drive.

💎

Jun had just managed to get Seungkwan and Joshua to one couch and himself to the other when the door opened again, revealing Woozi, Wonwoo carrying Hansol, and Hoshi. 

The dancer had been incredibly worried about the young rapper all day, only momentarily distracted by his worry for Seungkwan. The youngest vocalist had really tried his best, feeling worried for his best friend, but when they had taken off his clothes he had given into his own nausea from being covered in vomit. Jun was glad he was asleep with Joshua now and they could focus on the sick maknae.

“Gimme”, he said without greeting, holding out his arms towards Wonwoo, who laughed softly and deposited Hansol on top of Jun, who instantly wrapped the younger into his arms. Having a half-asleep, sick maknae in his arms was always worrisome but it was cute really, the way Hansol nuzzled his face into Jun’s neck, sighing softly.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked, rubbing the younger’s back.

“Floaty”, Hansol mumbled. The next sound coming from him was a soft snore. 

“We need to keep an eye on his temperature”, Wonwoo said, sitting down on the TV table beside them. “Manager-noona says to call if his fever gets over 39.5°C, they’ll take him to the hospital.”

Jun hummed in agreement. Hospitals were never fun but he couldn’t deny that Hansol was like a furnace on him. 

“Where is the rest?”, Woozi asked, entering the living room again, trailed by Hoshi. Jun hadn’t even noticed them leaving.

“Spread over the different dorms”, Jun explained, watching in wonder as Woozi pulled various medications as well as a thermometer, fever patches and even a damp washcloth from his pockets. Hoshi placed an old towel on the floor - handing another one to Jun, who placed it under Hansol’s head on his shoulder just in case - and the designated puke bucket on the floor.

“Tea should be ready soon”, he said.

“Looks like we got ourselves sleepy maknaes and hyungs”, Wonwoo commented, raising an eyebrow.

Woozi shrugged. “Could be worse.”

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Sicktember 2024

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[chibieoushelvetica]

TELL ME WHY THIS IS WRITTEN SO BADLY OMG... I WANNA CRY... I JUST WANNA WRITE WOOZI ANGST PEOPLE

     We have always hated it here.  House to house, school to school, family to family.  He never talked to anyone.  He would only write.  I was his translator.  I spoke the words he never would, and he would thank me with small smiles and nice letters under my pillow.  He was the only thing that stayed constant.

     I met Jihoon when we were both ten years old.  When two people never speak, they learn to communicate on their own.  The home we were staying in was an empty one.  Only ten kids lived there at the time, including the two of us.  It was only a few weeks later, that we began moving from home to home.  In the first weeks, we were together in the home, I was the only one who made the effort to communicate with him.  Short notes back and forth across the dinner table, poems underneath pillows during hushed nights.

     It wasn’t until we were sitting in the eleventh house we had been to that year, that I spoke aloud.  My voice was raspy and disgusting.  It was untrained; like a kid riding a bike for the first time, it took practice.   My first words were meant to be said fiercely, instead they were stumbled over.  My first words were supposed to protect him from the harshness of the children in the new house, instead, it got us both beaten up.  It was that day that I vowed my silence would end and I would learn how to use my words as a sharpened sword.

     I had never apologized to someone with words before, but the night after we got our asses kicked, that was all I said. ‘I’m sorry,’ became my branding and ‘It’s okay,’ became the prettiest thing he would ever write.  Since I had never genuinely spoken, the importance of words was instilled in my being. I knew that certain phrases should only be said to certain people in certain ways. He knew that too. So, the night that all of us kids piled onto the bus to be transferred to another home and I told him I loved him, we were both taken aback.  We were only eleven years old, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t mean it. I think that is what scared me. I think that’s what scared him too. Nothing is as scary as the truth and because we had never had a reason to lie each other, he knew it was honest. His response was a dark ever spreading blush, a small smile, averting eyes, and a heart is drawn on to my hand in thick black Sharpie ink. He even wrote ‘Jihoon’s’ underneath it.

     That was six years ago today. The two of us have yet to be split up and we are on foster home number twenty-four. In a little less than two months, Jihoon will be seventeen and that means the caretaker of this house, or any other house we go to, will be pushing him on every family that shows up to get him a home before he is eighteen. I, however, have about four months before I am seventeen. Which means, if someone wants to take him home, I’ll be left alone. Being away from Jihoon is not what I want.

-T

[celestialsoyeon]

woozi centered - motion sickness

wc: 0,69k

content: emeto, motion sickness

sickie: Woozi

Caretakers: hyung line

They had a long trip scheduled for their next concert. It would be seven long hours packed in a van, all together. They had decided to split into two groups, to make things easier and more comfortable.

There was absolutely nothing more uncomfortable than being packed all thirteen of them in a van that was supposed to be able to stand eight of them. So they were in two separate vans: one with the seven oldest members  and another one with the others. 

Jihoon had been given the choice between both of the vans since they were an uneven number and that he was just in the middle of them, and he had chosen to go with the oldest members. He wanted to spend more time with Jeonghan, Junhui and Seungcheol, and this trip was the perfect opportunity to do so.

They had all settled in the van, Jihoon sitting between Junhui and Seungcheol. The Chinese fell asleep after about an hour into the trip, so Jihoon lowered his voice as he kept talking with Seungcheol, in hopes he wouldn’t disturb Junhui’s sleep. There was no chance he did, the tall brunet usually had a deep sleep. 

But the more they were driving towards the next stop of their tour, the more Jihoon felt sick. At first he thought he was just stressed and kept talking with Seungcheol to distract himself, but he kept feeling worse and worse. 

He soon started to feel sick and queasy, and he knew he didn’t have a choice but to tell the others. 

Wonwoo was focused on the road and he didn’t want to trouble him, but it was better to ask him to pull over now than throwing up all over himself -and over Junhui’s sleeping frame and Seungcheol- so he decided to speak up.

“Wonwoo hyung….? I.. I’m not feeling good.. Can you.. Can you pull over for a while please?”

Wonwoo’s brow creased with worry, but he did pull over without asking more questions. He had seen the pale hue on Jihoon’s face and knew that he was already embarrassed enough as it was now, he didn’t need any questions, just support and help.

He didn’t say anything when Jihoon rushed inside and threw his guts up. Junhui woke up hearing the commotion, and instantly got worried.

“Is Jihoonie okay..? He threw up.. Is it because of the breakfast I made? Wasn’t it good?”

“This has nothing to do with the breakfast you prepared” Jeonghan reassures him. He knew what was happening and was feeling a bit awkward because he couldn’t do anything to help.

“It’s just motion sickness, isn’t it?” Soonyoung asks. He was obviously worried as well, and as awkward as Jeonghan. It was unusual for all of them to see Jihoon sick, and none of them knew he had motion sickness.

Jihoon wasn’t usually one to talk about his problems. He was usually one to keep them to himself and handle it on his own. But sometimes he had to just accept that he couldn’t do it all alone. That he needed help sometimes.

He kept throwing up for a while before feeling slightly less queasy. When he deemed it safe to get back to the van, he did so, really embarrassed. His cheeks were slightly red, which the pallor of his skin made even more obvious.

No one was saying a word. Jihoon just got a reassuring squeeze of his hand from Junhui. He smiled at him and let Wonwoo get back on the road. Everyone kept silent, they all knew better than crowd and annoy a sick Jihoon.

The rest of the trip was a blur for Jihoon who was mostly asleep, the other members keeping a close eye on him in case he needed to throw up again. He didn’t, spending more than half of the trip sound asleep, his head resting against Junhui’s as they both fell asleep together. 

Seungcheol was looking at them, a small smile on his face. This situation had been awkward, but Jihoon was fine and it was all that mattered to him.

[manokkinda-blog]

kindergarten!au with Seventeen

part 1 | part 2

Choi Seungcheol/ S.coups -befriends and plays with everyone -encourages everyone, even the shy kids, to play and spend time together -happily gives piggyback rides to his classmates -tosun caretaker #1 (class pet rabbit) -challenges people to wrestle with him bc he knows he’ll win

 Yoon Jeonghan -pranks classmates and blames other classmates for them so he’s never caught -sleepy for the whole day but when it’s naptime he’s Wide Awake -actually a nice kid -encourages his classmates to make up when they fight -also a really active kid when no one notices -never found during hide and seek -hogs the slide -hates vegetables and gives them all to joshua

 Hong Jisoo / Joshua -the most respectful kid -falls for jeonghan’s pranks for a while then gets used to it -the first in his class to learn to read but only in english -his lunchbox often includes fruits and vegetables -shares his food with everyone but no one eats his vegetables -eats his vegetables and likes them -bikes to school with his lil trike w/ training wheels

Wen Junhui / Jun -a pro in all playground equipment especially the monkey bars -can hang upside down from the monkeybars -quirky personality but then after a while gets shy and flustered -brings in adult coloring books to look cool but colors outside the lines like everyone else

 Kwon Soonyoung / Hoshi -fingerpainting enthusiast -chases his classmates with paint on his hands -trips and falls easily while playing -always has a few bandaids on him of different designs -plays with his food -competes with jeonghan for the slide

 Jeon Wonwoo -attempts to read books on a whole other level for a kindergartener but he can’t read yet -is offered picture books by the teacher instead -goes behind people and scares them -befriends stray cats

Lee Jihoon / Woozi -very shy -brings a baseball bat and mitt to school but is too shy to ask anyone to play with him -loves the swingset on the playground -stuck on the high end of the seesaw often and gets frustrated